#neteyam of

[luvteyams]

TAG YOUR MINE

Characters: Neteyam Sully(26) x Fem Omaticaya Navi Reader

Warnings: none, just sweet fluff

Word Count:

Synopsis: Childhood friends play a game…could it lead to more?

Neyrali begged and pleaded as you gathered more sweet berries, popping a few between your lips as you plucked more. She had been rambling for a while about a much needed break from the heat, proposing to stop down by the stream after harvest was over.

“Please just come with us, I promise it’ll be fun and relaxing”, she pleaded, pushing her body into yours.

You could feel the blistering sun burn against your skin as you weighed your options, which weren’t many at this time of day. Going back to home tree meant your mother would be fanning over your every move, and heading back with the harvest group meant being hunched over as you peeled the thick skin from many of the fruits to get the sweet flesh inside.

A sly smile raised as Neyrali began pestering you again, “it’ll only be us girls, and you can even finish that cute little top you were making”, her smile wide now as she grasped your working arm, shaking it gently.

You could feel your resolve slipping, with no real objection except that with Neyrali, it was never just us girls. Neyrali was popular, loud and energetic as she worked within the clan. If Neyrali and Tili came then of course Tanu and Bexti were not far and with Kiri, it meant the entire Sully gang was not far behind either. Causing the peace to be upturned into hormonal chaos and pending trouble.

As you stood stretching high into the thick leaves of a yovo fruit tree, you pulled your final fruit for the day, laying it to rest along the variety of other fruits in your picking basket. Scanning for the other harvesters you could see Neyrali’s long forgotten basket back at the small bush of sweet berries in the distance.

“Okay, fine Neyrali…we can go,” you huffed as Neyrali shrieked, jumping into the air. Her happiness was short lived as you sharpened your tone “BUT only if you promise, no. funny. business” jokingly pointing your long fingers into her chest with a deadpan face.

She rolled her eyes hard as she began to pull you along, further into the thick vines of the forest. You stumbled after her, adjusting your heavy sac, that carried all your weaving tools and even pieces of your pending top, back onto your slim hips. It wasn’t long before you could hear the rushing water splashing against the nearby rocks and rippling back out into the forest.

As you entered the familiar clearing, the sounds of laughter could be heard coming clearly from Tili as she fended off Loak and Tanu from drowning her. A flurry of emotions fluttered within as you scanned the rest of the clearing, many more Omaticaya your age resting all along the bank of the stream. And as your eyes landed on the bulk form of the future Olo’eyktan, sitting atop one of the much higher rocks along the stream, you could feel your body begin to tingle all over. He was a sight to see, the crush you harbored from childhood burrowing deep into your chest once again. All those years of carefree playing as friends had slowly slithered away as duty became more important. And although always sweet and respectful in passing, that really was just Neteyam.

You were extremely hot now, your eyes downcast as you made your way toward the water, farther away from the crowd.

As you settled onto the waters edge allowing your feet to dangle into the calmest part of the stream, your eyes naturally began to wander back to Neteyam’s form. He really was gorgeous in all his glory, Olo’eyktan training doing his body justice as he filled out. As your eyes trailed up his torso, you could feel the burn within your stomach,perspiration building a slick layer onto your skin. His chest, full and round as it rose and fell, his neck stretched back as sweat begins to pool in the dip that meets below, up past his soft pink lips, you could now admire his bright amber eyes, intense and focused as he gave his full attention to his surroundings. And usually he was focused on everything, observing his comrades, sweeping for potential danger, and keeping a watchful eye on his rowdy siblings, but now his eyes were only focused on you.

He was always so intense, his eyes quickly tracing your form as his lips quirked into smile, and before you could feel the tingle spread from your stomach to your burning cheeks, he was walking over.

His stride long and quick as he shuffled through the playful hunters and dancing healers. You could feel your heart quicken, thumping against your ribs as it began to drown out Neyrali’s insistent plan to get with Bexti after eclipse.

She abruptly stopped feeling Netyams strong presence behind her, a sly smile spreading across her face as she eyed his body up until she was squinting up at his face. The sun outlined his body in a heated glow that made your mouth go dry and you palmed at the moss below, grounding yourself in its cool feel.

“Hi”, he spoke softly keeping his eyes solely on you, his shoulders creating a dark shadow for you to look back up at him.

An awkward pause stretched between the three of you and you could see Neyrali roll her eyes with a small giggle pulling from her lips. She was the first to leave, not even so much as a goodbye, swaying her hips towards Bexti, who waited for her with open arms.

The silence was almost deafening, only the beat of a nearby drum, and the loud crash of water filling the space between you two. You could feed him shift down, not towering over you but hovering close as he eyed you with a smile.

“You know we haven’t spoken in a while, I miss playing with you”, he was confident as he flirted, his attraction seeping into you. His confidence made you giggle, but no response would come.

This wasn’t unusual. You know Neteyam, at least you used to. When he was young and oblivious, a playful boy, who only dreamed of becoming a mighty warrior. He spent more time with you then, playmates who spent from dawn to eclipse together. You both the same height, him taking your slightly smaller hand into his as he guided you to the small fishing pond he liked, or teaching you and his siblings how to swim on a warm day. A big brother to the small and weak, picking you up when you fell and encouraging you to run a little faster when you were almost in his grasp.

He was still that Neteyam, just taller, broader, handsomer- you smiled, but still confident and forward.

Your face turned a hue too purple and you could feel his heated gaze all over you now, burning your neck, chest, and thighs as he gaucked shamelessly.

Turning your head down back to the flowing water, you mimicked his greeting,” hi, sit with me ‘teyam”, you grinned as that childhood nickname slipped past your lips.

He was bright now, glowing as he made room for himself next to you. Leaning back into the wet earth to bask in the sun.

•

Eclipse was beginning as the hot sun began to dissipate. A slow progression as your skin began to cool and a slight chill began to slither across your skin.

Your body still slightly pressed up against Neteyams as he watched your work intently. A quick learner always as he began to twists and braid some of the extra twine you carried in your sac. Every so often pulling small beads from his hair and weaving them into the dainty jewelry he was making. Working alongside him was easy even when your ears spiked and a shiver ran down your spine at the touch of his thigh against yours. No words were exchanged as the sounds of everyone around drowned out seemingly into the distance.

Your hands had begun to ache as your nimble fingers worked simultaneously weaving the brightly colored beads onto the waxy thread. The multiple hues of purple shimmering as you twisted them tightly together creating a contrast to the dark blue feather tangled into hanging vines. The top was coming along nicely, and a smile graced your face as you worked along.

Every so often you could hear the giggles and shrieks from the frantic Navi playing in the water, but overall it was peaceful and you could feel your tense muscles relax as you laid along the waters edge, the small fish kissing along your legs.

The cool breeze blew against your back, a stark contrast from the heat that consumed you every so often from his amber eyes dancing along your exposed legs.

His eyes had been glued to the side of your head as you worked, sitting up against him to hold yourself up from the long day of harvest. And as you relaxed, you sunk further into him, like you once did as a child.

The seemingly serene peace was broken as a sopping wet Loak landed near you, setting himself onto the mossy edge with an obnoxious sigh. His lanky form crowded over you, his beaded hair dripping water all over your lap as you rolled your eyes, you knew it was only a matter of time.

“Loak, always the charmer”, you slipped as your eyes rolled back harshly. He was truly a show boat, even in childhood. Calling the attention of anyone who’d look to showcase his itty bitty muscles, or running through the village creating a path of chaos for all the kids to follow.

His smile was wide, canines on display as he chuckled loudly. Resting on his forearms, laid back he hadn’t so much as acknowledged his brother until you felt his arms reach around you, pulling you into his warm chest and away from his soaking wet little brother. Scolding him for his lack of manners. Neteyam ever the gentleman was still as protective as you remembered.

“ Bro, don’t be such a buzzkill, I just missed my girl”, he charmed with a toothy grin.

Now he was hovering over you, pushing you further into Neteyam’s sturdy chest. You gasped feeling smothered by the large brothers.

“Loak, please, I’m not your girl or anyone’s for that matter”, you snapped, shoving his tawny body from your personal space. You could smell the sweet scent of yaku berries and healing paste seeping from him and so you teased “even after a bath you still smell like Sati”.

It was Loak’s turn to stutter, a purple blush spreading across his face as his flickering ears burned a painful looking red. You giggled, a sharp cackle spreading through the clearing as a low rubble of Neteyam’s chuckle soothed against your back.

Loak was so easy to tease, even as he had grown up with a quick mouth, you had a slick tongue that was quick with retort. His gasps halted as he eyed you with sharpened eyes, and you had returned to weaving, knowing that he would have much more to say.

“Well at least I’m not cuddled up with the next Olo’eyktan,” he quipped and now it was your turn to choke.

Neteyam’s solid body was now hovering over you from behind, rubbing your back, and pulling you back into him further as he scolded his brother.

Without looking you could hear the bright smile he held and it felt like old times. Loak teasing you about the very obvious crush you had on his older brother, and a Neteyam’s gentleman like nature allowing you to hide within his chest as a blush creeped along every point of your body.

Now he was pushing his younger brother back into the shallow waters edge, a loud splash crashing against both your legs as he surfaced back up for air.

“So low bro and you know it”, he gasped with a roll of his eyes.

Neteyam’s boisterous laugh sounded out into the crowd calling the attention of the few people still left as eclipse was ending.

The darkness had begun to descend upon Pandora calling the bioluminescent flora to glow with the absence of light. You began packing up your bag, placing your almost finished top at the bottom of your satchel.

“Neteyam were you able to finish”, you inquired with a small smile and he began fishing through the moss where he left the forgotten project.

As his large body turned back to your own reaching out for your long arm. His fingers clasping onto your own as the feeling of wooden beads gliding up past your fingers and then onto your wrist. A tiny bracelet with turquoise pebbles woven tightly between flower shaped purple beads you had stuffed at the bottom of your own collection of pebbles.

Your entire face lit up, a now pink blush creeping along your cheeks as you recognized the gleaming teal beads that matched the many beads within his own hair and jewelry he wore everyday.

You didn’t imagine the small project to keep himself occupied as he relaxed at the river would be for you, but like Loak he was still a confident charmer, and you smiled knowingly as your eyes admired his work.

His notable skill as a warrior trumped any of the other skills he had learned within his 23 years of living, but still his weave-ship rivaled a few of the skilled weavers within the clan.

“It’s gorgeous teyam..is this really for me?”, you gushed as he fiddled with his work wound around your wrist. His response came much later, a small bubble of silence that made you look up into his awaiting eyes.

“Of course, love”, his smile gleamed the same bright glow as the surrounding flora and he pulled you into him, crushing you against his warm chest.

“ Alright lovebirds, how about a game before we head back” you could hear Loak snicker from behind you, his soaking wet body making the moss below mushy.

Now he was yelling, calling attention to the few who were still lazing about the clearing. You could make out the pile of Neyrali, Bexti, Tili, & Tanu near the edge of the clearing, laying against the massive tree that shaded parts of the pond. They seemed to be in a relaxed conversation with slight smiles as they flirted with each other.

Over the years you knew that each pair was endgame, but no one was in a rush, our youth consumed with finding our place with the traditions of the omiticaya and excelling to live up to our proud parents.

As Loaks voice sounded out into the clearing again, competing against the howls of nightly creatures lurking far within the distance, the group had made their way up and over the waters edge near us.

The boys hollered as some much needed fun was suggested and you could feel yourself being pulled up to stand, Neteyam pulling you close against his chest again.

“how about a game of truth or dare?”’ Loak suggested a smirk forming as he stared down Sati. Her dark hair hung in waves, flowing against her back as she rested against a nearby rock.

Everyone tracked his eyes, landing on her form as she sat oblivious to the many eyes resting on her. She was a great warrior, following after her father to be a notable scout and guard in the late hours of the night. Loak and Sati had been partners sinde she passed her iknimiya. His training had proved fruitful and they were a noticeable pair within the clan.

You called out to her, adding to the crowd of young Navi looking to have a little bit of careless fun before trekking back home.

Although many people were all up for the teasing fun that accompanies playing the human game introduced by the current Olo’eyktan , Toruk Makto.

You had personally played the game with the sully kids many times. Always in the comfort of the sully families hut, as the game always seemed to get out of hand when played within the forest. The first and only time we played in the forest lead to baby Tuktirey being lost for hours, only being found long after eclipse. Loak having dared her to stay hidden within the forest until she was found. The brave Tuk had blindly completed her brothers dare, giving her father a “heart attack”, as he berated Loak once again for such dumb antics.

As you began to decline the game, in respect for the rule, Neteyam’s deep voice beat you to it, “ you know we aren’t allowed, plus we need to ALL be making our way back to Hometree”, his stern voice seemed to pierce everyone standing around and many had begun to disperse, slowly heading to the path that led home.

Loak huffed loudly, stilling everyone,” we’re literally all adults Neteyam-“ he retorted harshly but continued.

“-but fine how about tag” he suggested with roll of his big eyes.

You remembered the game fondly, your small legs racing through the forest, your skrawny limbs being thrashed by whipping vines and harsh roots sticking up from the ground. Your short body was still a bit clumsy, as you tried to leap from branch to branch. You rarely lost even with that disadvantage and you smiled boldly as you knew you could win again.

“we haven’t played that in so long”, you gushed, jumping up and down in a giddy childlike manner.

You could hear Loak and Neteyam snicker as they gaped at your excitement. Neteyam’s body had jostled a bit as you jumped against him and as his hand smoothed itself over your head, with a light pat, you grinned harder.

As if on autopilot, the crowd began to disperse. Female Navi shifting to the edge of the clearing, readying themselves in the direction of hometree.

The warriors still left, huddled at the waters edge, eyeing up the female Navi, picking their prey. The human game of tag had many years been morphed to a game of hunt. Young Navi learning to track and flow with the movement of trees, eager to become revered warriors within the clan. In all it’s fun, it had given many of them the confidence to begin training at a young age and pass their rites early too.

Hometree, our safe haven was base, and every prey who made it to its thick roots at its base was safe from the strong grip of their hunters.

If caught you were subjected to whatever desires your hunter requested, and most caught female Navi ended with courting gifts and shared whispers of love in the glowing night.

In much younger age you remembered the chase to be just as exhilarating as it was scary. You’d forgone playing many times, and only when Neteyam pinky promised to be your hunter for the game did you relent. With watering eyes and a bobbing poked out lip, you begged against his chest to go easy on you. His soft eyes and calm voice always reassuring you that he would protect you no matter what.

You smiled brightly every time you barreled through the thick vines covering the entrance to Hometree, spinning around to jump against Neteyam’s unwavering form right behind you. He was always so close, but never close enough.

“We’ve picked! Does everyone remember how to play”, a young hunter by the name of Tsu’mey called out into the clearing.

He was eyeing up another young harvester, Juma. The intense gaze of every hunter was cascading over their prey and you could feel the weight of Neteyam’s gliding over your skin.

His intense stare caused a hot prickle to begin crawling up your skin, every hair follicle on edge as your body turned over to fight or flight.

Your chest began to squeeze, tightening around your beating heart. Your widened eyes, pinching into slight amusement. The game was about to begin, and as you readied your shaking body, steadying it against the solid ground beneath you, you called out to him, loudly amongst the overlapping calls of daring hunters, “so close, ma teyam”, pausing for dramatic effect, “but never close enough”.

He was crouched now, his looming body morphing into the form of a beast, his eyes as daring as a palulakan itself.

Your sharp eyes had began to search for his form among the hunters. They had crowded around at the ponds edge, waiting for the countdown to begin for our headstart.

Neteyam must have stood at its center, his bulky form hidden well amongst the others so you crouched, tensing your body to prepare to run. 10 seconds. That’s all you get before he’s behind you, you reminded yourself.

“READY”, was what silenced everyone. The one word calling out into the clearing, jolting your body for the rush. Your toes dig deep into the soil below, a slight breeze chilling your wet skin.

“SET”, a low voice called out, stilling all the surrounding Navi. The silence was palpable, even the surrounding foliage and native creatures stilled to a pause.

You could hear your heart beating against your rib cage. Knees bent and hands outstretched to pull against the cascading vines.

“GO”,a deeper tone sounded out, the familiar accent sounding out into the clearing. You sprung into a sprint, pushing off the soil as soon as the Navi next to you did.

10

9

The load chants from the hunters spurred you on as you knew they would be barreling behind you any second now. Surely their eyes were tracking their prey, seeing the direction and scenting the path.

8

7

You pushed on, past the clearings bordering foliage and up into the trees for hopefully an added advantage. Home was not far and you knew you could swing further up higher so you pushed on.

6

5

The vines were twisted, forcing you to pull against them to make way for your slim form. Desperately clawing at the air to keep your head clear of the heavy leaves blocking your view.

4

3

2

1

You could hear the loud calls of hunters on the loose. In every direction they called familiar chants, as if they were hunting tailoang, in the night air. A slight burn was creeping up into your thighs, the soles of your feet beginning to ache as you landed harshly on a giant branch, high in the air.

You could feel him, he wasn’t close just yet, but his presence was easy to pick out many paces away. His adept body moving through your cleared path smoothly, catching up to your form, in less time than usual.

Your fingers were stinging now, small scrapes adorning your nimble fingers as you pulled against some particularly strong vines.

This may have not been a good idea, you thought. On the ground you only had to worry about the deep roots sticking up out the earth. Hopping over them with ease, and avoiding the chaos of other avoiding prey and hunters.

As you pulled against a thick cascading vine , pushing your body into the air to land against a branch further ahead you could feel the soft touch of his fingers.

He was way to close now. Neteyam was insanely fast, well past his peers in agility, speed, and strength but your head-start should have afforded you a good distance.

You could hear his harsh breathes now, almost as if he was right on top of you. Pushing your sore legs further, a harsh burn began to ripple through them. The thump of your heart beating against your ribs pushed you on, your wideshot eyes seeking out a quick escape.

A sigh of relief left your lips as the pink glow peaked around the corner of a large branch up ahead. Slipping down the slim branch you began to jump down quickly. Hopping clumsily from branch to branch, as you closed in on the landmark, the bright flora of (pick one) growing against a tall tree, almost as tall as kelutral??. Its roots spiraled around the tree in a magenta hue covering.

You were close.

Pushing forward the quick whips of branches and vines slicing against your skin stung, twisting within your braids before being snagged out. You could hear the path behind you shuffling loudly, tree bark scratched and leaves ruffled to make way for his opposing frame.

The loud hoots and calls of hunters surround you, as you closed in on Hometree. Your rapid breaths pushed out between your lips, heart beating harshly against your chest. But you could see your home insight. Just a few feet before you would be passing the grand threshold of the tree winding branches.

And then you felt it.

Warm hands tugging against your strained arms pulling you back from the winding roots leading to the entrance of kelutral. His hard chest pressed firmly against your back as he forced your body to come to a sudden stop. The air rushing from your lungs halted and a harsh gasp pushed past your lips as you swung around to face your predator.

Then his lips are covering yours, a passionate dance of tongue and clashing teeth. His bulky form pushing you over until you were leaning uncomfortably far back and holding onto his shoulders tightly.

As his lips began to pull away, you could feel your body following, begging to be kissed again. You could feel his hands all over now, on your cheeks, neck, shoulders, waist, and lastly your ass. His musky scent mixed with the sweet scent of moss surrounded you and you feel into his body comfortably with your eyes closed and head tucked into between his pecs.

“Your mine now”, he rasped. His lazily flicking tail wrapped around your thigh, holding you flush against his form.

Authors Note: Finally posted my first writing so I’m excited and happy I could finish it. There might also be another chapter for this story but nothing more than that. Let me know your thoughts plss!!!

💗 @pandorapromises @pandorxxx @thewalkingwillowtree @theblueflower05 @neteyamsyawntu @vivid-ink

[s0urw00lfsrants]

Being a girl is: wanting to go to bed early but deciding to just get on tumblr/wattpad/Ao3 for a little bit and then end up finding a fic series that you really like and read until well past your usual bedtime then keeping on because it’s already past your bedtime. Then being mad when you wake up in the morning because you overslept your timer.

[l0velysmut]

family: “why are you just sitting in ur room smiling at ur phone?”

me who’s been reading smut about fictional characters for the past 6 hours:

[itshelia]

My mom to her friends, my aunts, and literally everyone she knows: Yeah, my kid is so smart. She is on her phone a lot of the time, but it's not like you guys think, She is not like how kids nowadays are, She reads a lot of books on her phone!!

Me, a fanfic reader who can survive off nothing but just words and day dreams herself to sleep:

[neteyawne]

Toruk Makto's son, Neteyam Sully, is your secret lover...!

Neteyam—your dear boyfriend, has been staring at you all night.

It's another nightly celebration amongst the Na'vi, and the clan is gathered around various fires lit as family and friends tell each other stories and tales.

Neteyam was your secret boyfriend.

As the son of your infamous clan leader, he was expected to be perfect. Stay absolutely in line and make no mistakes. He had no time for distractions.

But for you, he made an exception.

And he couldn't be happier. Yes, stealing glances at you and sneaking away with your smiling face is worth it all. The thrill and happiness he feels with you will forever remain unmatched. It was like his heart was finally living. The dull thump inside now a lively drum that beats to the sound of your soul.

"Neteyam."

He pulls away from the kiss breathless, his braids tossed over his shoulder and a smile in his eyes as he looked at you. He loved it when you said his name like that—

"Hmm?"

He doesn't give you a chance to even try and respond, because he's pressing his lips all over your mouth and face as you squirm and squeal under him

"Neteyam—!"

He laughs, gently tugging you onto the green ground beneath him as you huff. He kisses your pouting lips before positioning you on his legs so you're comfortable.

"Yes. What is wrong?"

He's smiling softly even as his finger taps mindlessly against your hip, and you let out a quiet sigh—not wanting to speak the words but knowing you had to.

"It's getting late. Your family will notice you're gone." You scold lightly, gently tracing the stripes on his chest idly as he shifts under you with a rare grin that stretched over the entirety of his face

"So? They're all fine, I am not needed right now. I will explain later—"

"What? That you were busy with me?" You say, pinching your brows with a sigh as he laughs. You didn't want Neteyam to get in trouble, but he could be so stubborn sometimes.

He's quiet after a bit, and you realize he's in deep thought when he stares off into the trees, tilting his head up towards the darkening sky before he turns to you

"I... I'd just like to stay here with you for a while longer. Is that okay?"

Your heart melts at the sight of his hopeful smile.

"And you think I want to leave you?" You murmur against his lips as he grins, cradling the back of your head in the palm of his hand as he presses a soft kiss onto your forehead

"No."

You're leaning back onto his chest after a while, watching the sun's rays twinkle out of sight as the stars rise—the night comes slowly but surely, and there isn't a single other soul in the world Neteyam would watch the moon with rather than you.

[lilaccmilk]

“i can fix him”

“i can make him worse”

good for you. i, however, can will fuck him so hard that he literally forgets he was ever fucked up.

[byunpum]

Scent

Pair: Tsu'tey x Human Reader ( jake human sister )

Warning: A little spicy, tsu'tey (in my opinion) being curious.

Note: Me posting something, knowing I've ignored my tumblr for months. Bye~!

After the war, life for tsu'tey had been very quiet. Everything was back to normal, well almost everything. A large number of humans decided to settle in Pandora and close to the clan. The idea of having humans among the clan was not pleasant to him, for him they were a bit unpleasant. They were strange, everything they did was strange to him. And the most disturbing thing to him was the scent the humans gave off. The Na'vi had a highly developed sense of smell and the strange scent of humans was not pleasant for him. They always tried to use some scents to disguise their scent of origin, according to Jake it was “perfumes and soaps”. Tsu'tey didn't think it was cool to use those things. But there was one scent which had caught all his attention. And the owner of that scent came from you.

The first time tsu'tey registered your scent, was when he happened to pass by jake's side. He was talking to one of those humans. But as soon as he walked by you, he stopped dead in his tracks. The scent he was smelling was something… amazing. He felt a shiver run down his spine, he couldn't understand where the smell was coming from. It wasn't until jake tapped him on the shoulder, and introduced them. Tsu'tey turns to look at you. You smiled warmly back at him, giving him the 'I see you' sign. Tsu'tey caught on a little too late, he was so immersed in the scent you were giving off that he barely listened to what Jake was saying. He couldn't believe that you were the carrier of that peculiar scent. From that day on, tsu'tey did everything he could to be by your side.

It got to the point that he didn't care about the comments they made, it was strange to see a man like tsu'tey behind a human. Always trying to help you, or try to talk to you even for a couple of seconds, he had to smell your scent at least once a day. He was becoming obsessed, and if his little obsession was not dying down. He began to notice how your scent became stronger when he was around you. It had to be that reason, because on one of the occasions he came to talk to you. You were talking to neytiri, and he could feel how your scent was the usual one. But as soon as neytiri left you alone, he could feel it getting more and more potent. He was going crazy and he knew it. It wasn't healthy, what he was creating for you. You were supposed to be a human, he wouldn't have to find you attractive or desirable…but here he is. If you asked him to kiss your feet he would do it, even if you asked him to kill someone and let him put his nose in your neck sweet spot for only 5 minutes or less, he would do it.

On the other hand, you were oblivious to this situation. You thought tsu'tey was very kind and gentlemanly. He was always helping you, and available to you. You liked the attention he gave you. Besides…tsu'tey was painfully handsome. You liked him from head to toe, you found him beautiful. And having him this close wasn't helping you much. But you enjoyed his company…there was just a nice friendship between the two of you.

That particular day, tsu'tey could smell your scent from far away, he could tell you were about 30 feet away from him. And he could recognize it was you, turning around to see you approaching him with a basket in your hands. “Hello!!!” you greet him, smiling at him. You were hurting his senses, because if it were up to him he would have already dragged you into his arms. You looked very pretty, in the traditional na'vi clothing. Tsu'tey scanned you up and down, laughing a little. “Do you like it? Neytiri gave me this outfit…she made it for me” you speak, taking a quick turn. “I'm surprised at how well it suits you “tsu'tey says, looking at you again. But now with more determination, the little clothing gave freedom to your scent to be released all over the place, he was getting nervous. “Yeah…she says I should wear more family stuff…you know, since jake is my brother and he is now…” you stop talking, when you notice that the man is barely paying attention to you. “Tsu'tey…are you okay?” you ask, waving your hand in his face. Snapping tsu'tey out of his stasis. He laughs nervously, settling more on his feet. “Yes, sorry. You were saying?” tsu'tey sees you laugh.

“I was going to ask you if you could help me pick some berries…the ones near the river. You know they're a little tall…and I need help” you speak, tsu'tey doesn't think for a second and goes to help you. Getting up from the ground, he starts walking towards the river. The walk from the village to the river was about 15 minutes. When you arrived you both decided that the best thing to do was to pick the berries that were on top of some branches, besides it was much more private for you. Your very presence in the clan could be a bit intimidating for some na'vi. And this was an area where they used to come frequently. Tsu'tey helped you up, placing his hands on your waist, to get you up easily. But not before bringing his face close to your back, sniffing you. Closing his eyes, enjoying your scent. It was a momentary thing, when you climb up the branch. “Are you coming?” you keep walking towards where the berries were. “Yes…I'm coming” tsu'tey swallows hard, trying to control himself.

Tsu'tey helps you for a while, picking the prettiest berries that were on the highest leaves. Sitting down to rest, and to watch you pick in the other corner. You turn and give him a smile. Tsu'tey smiles back. Aside from the fact that the man was obsessed with your essence, he liked the way you were. You were the opposite of your brother. You were calm and quiet. You didn't do risky things and avoided getting into trouble. Tsu'tey enjoyed your company, and he was sure you did too. He could feel it. “These berries are so sweet” you speak, approaching where tsu'tey was sitting. “Yes…and this is their best season” tsu'tey speaks, but is puzzled when you sit down in front of him. You sit in front of him, cross-legged. This new position makes your scent much stronger than at other times. Freezing in his seat, his eyes widen.

However, you keep talking as if nothing is wrong. You are placing the basket next to you, taking some berries to clean them. You can tell, you were the only one talking, tsu'tey might be silent, but he wasn't talking at all. You look up and you can see that he was different. He was looking at you seriously, his pupils were dilated, his posture was straight, his ears were up and so was his tail. You could notice that his breathing was agitated, and although his look seemed to be one of discomfort… you knew it was not. It was one more of lust, you could see how he was swallowing hard. “Tsu'tey?” you speak softly, getting her attention.

“What's wrong with you? Are you ok?” you ask, tsu'tey doesn't answer you, and keeps looking at you. Analyzing your whole body, your scent was ambushing him. It was too strong for him, too sweet. And now with your new outfit you were not helping him. “Why do you smell like that?” says tsu'tey in a serious tone. You grow more nervous, closing your legs out of instinct. The look on tsu'tey's face at this moment was intimidating, but not in the bad way. “I have a bad smell?” you begin to smell your hand, as you watch tsu'tey approach you. Placing his hands on the ground of the branch, leaning a little over you. To now be much closer to you. “Don't do it” tsu'tey places his hand on your knee, moving it to the side. Causing your legs to spread for him. You watch as he closes his eyes, and sighs deeply. Your heart wanted to pound out of your chest, he was getting so much closer to you. “You have a scent…delicious” tsu'tey moves over your body, getting closer to your neck. Pressing his nose to your neck, breathing deeply. Words didn't come out of your mouth, you were surprised tsu'tey didn't use to behave like this with you. Well with anyone…and now he was almost on top of you. Balancing on his hands, sniffing your neck.

Tsu'tey felt so out of control, it was like he couldn't control what he was doing. He was feeling anxious, he wanted to know where that scent that was driving him crazy was coming from. Slowly moving down as he sniffed your skin, down your chest until he reached your breasts. Breathing hard again, to continue, the only thing you could do was to stay still. -T-tsu” your voice is interrupted when you see that tsu'tey had already reached your lower belly, stopping for a moment. At this moment tsu'tey was crouched over you, very close to his goal. He gave you a quick glance, and if you had to be realistic his look was one of hunger. As if no one could stop him, though you didn't plan to. Tsu'tey wouldn't get that far, would he. It was then, when he decided to go a little lower. First you thought he was going to smell one of your thighs. But you were wrong, when he went down he parked his face completely in your clothed cunt.

...

...

Your eyes widen in surprise, as you feel him breathing much harder than before. In a quick movement you move your foot towards tsu'tey's face and kick him in the face. This makes him move away. “What the hell is wrong with you?” you yell at him, this is all taking you by surprise. You liked tsu'tey but no one has ever behaved like this before. “What's wrong? I'm just sniffing you” speaks tsu'tey caressing his face a little bit. “What for? And why are you sniffing me…there” you close your legs slowly, but you see how tsu'tey stops you. “Don't close your legs…this is where that rich smell is coming from” tsu'tey says, laughing playfully. “Oh my god, no no” you close your legs tightly. “You're talking about the smell of my parts?” you were more concerned now. “I'm talking about your whole scent, I've never smelled someone with this scent before. No na'vi woman has a scent like this…it's exciting” tsu'tey speaks a little excited. You had never seen him like this, he looked like someone else. He was still very close to you, now he had come completely over you. You were looking up, observing his whole body attitude.

“I have noticed that when I am close to you…or when I touch you” tsu'tey lowers his voice, raising his hand to now touch your thigh, caressing your exposed skin a little. “I can notice how the smell gets stronger…and I love that” tsu'tey lowers his face, moving closer to your face. You push him back, causing tsu'tey to sit back down. You were so embarrassed, tsu'tey was talking about the excitement you felt towards him, like it was nothing. You wanted to bury yourself alive, you were getting so nervous, you didn't know what to say or do to him. “Tsu'tey…but you must not approach him like that. You must ask” you looked down, tsu'tey was looking at you playfully. He is silent for a moment, seeing how you are a little nervous. Squeezing your legs together so nothing would come out. “So…could I smell you a little? “tsu'tey asks. You knew that the attitude tsutey was showing was something without mischief, something he wasn't doing on purpose. It was instinctive on his part.

“I don't know what to tell you…we barely know each other, and yes I really like you” you try to change what you just said but there was a lot going on right now. “I mean…we should wait, yeah?you know what I mean?” you try to make him understand you, it's not like you didn't want tsu'tey between your legs. But it was still too early for that. “Ok… but can I be closer to you?” asks tsu'tey again. You nod with your face, watching as he moves closer to now be literally glued next to you. His tail began to dig into your waist, and he kept looking at you.

Oh my gosh…where have you gotten to. You had to explain to tsu'tey that personal space in humans is much more important than he thinks.

[jardanikos]

[lani-sun]

☆ ritualistic ☆

synopsis: jake reminds himself it’s just biology. just the instincts of his newly-acquired form urging him to take, to claim, to keep. and maybe, just maybe, he could’ve controlled it. (had you not made everything so damn difficult, of course.) avatar!jake sully x fem!scientist!reader

warnings: there's no plot here friends i am SORRY, kind of dark!jealous!jake if you squint, slight enemies to lovers, graphic, descriptions of lust bc imagery goes wild here, explicit sexual content [18+ MINORS DNI], dom/sub dynamics, dubcon, dirty talk, slightly sacrilegious?, dacryphilia, major major size kink, biting/marking, jake sully being himself should be an inbuilt warning, let's pretend (for the bio minor stem girly in me) that the lab is somehow perfectly clean and non-contaminated after this pls

☆

jake finds you in the lab, your eyes scrunched into crescent moons underneath scuffed safety glasses hooked loosely behind your ears. his own pin back against the underside of his head instinctively, attuned to the rhythmic, near-silent reverberation of your breath. in. out. in. out. your gloved hands (ancient latex, he notes with a disgruntled twitch of his nose) shake incrementally as you peer into the microscope you're hunched over, adjusting the brilliance of the light painting your petri-dished specimen in a silvery glow. the sound you release when you get it just right—faint, pleased, unfairly absentminded—is enough to send a spark of something foreign down his spine. something delirious, fervent in nature. something that grits his teeth on instinct, clamps down on his jaw like barbed wire, like an insatiable beast clawing at the bars of its enclosure, crying out for the feeling of your flesh (futilely human, extremely off-limits) in its hands. and god, he's not supposed to think about you like that. not supposed to want you the way he did. not when his body isn't meant for you, not when he feels the chains of his forced entrapment in a life confined to a wheelchair coming undone at the sight of freedom. at the sight of you. in this form, he could take you. hell, he could have you. bite into you. he swipes his tongue across his top row of teeth, feeling for the elongated hooks of his canines. yeah, he'd like that.

he settles on making himself known. as his low hum of greeting fractures your reverie, your gaze snaps harshly to his, ricocheting of the surface of his skin. (and he likes it, the aggravation simmering under the surface of your composure. he's always had a soft spot for brats. for an animal to tame.) he swears he can hear the startled hitch in your breath, can sense the shaky, half-jump in your heart rate. "mornin' doc," he chirps, lips quirking up at the sight of the exasperation already etching itself into your features. you rip your safety glasses off, shoving them into a pocket of your lab coat before yanking your mask down with an irritated huff.

"i cannot with you today, sully." a muscle in the delicate column of your neck bounces under his unyielding stare as you reach underneath the metal tabletop to grapple for a pipette, balancing it in the junction between your thumb and index finger. sticky, cloying heat gathers in his veins, a tangible ache hunting for purchase in between his temples. take, it begs. take her.

you continue, oblivious. "and i told grace to change the code on the damn door—"

he clears his throat. reminds himself that fantasizing about you while you're within arm's reach of him is a decision better left unmade. "aw, c'mon, don't be like that. 'm not gonna stay long. not smart enough t'be a scientist like you, pretty."

you huff. "that's an understatement. go out and do—other things, then. stop bothering me." you yelp when his hands (heavyset, gorgeously sea-blue) meet the slim neck of your microscope, slapping them away with a flick of your wrist. "jake!"

a chuckle rumbles in the back of his throat as he backs away, arms raised mockingly in surrender. "show me what you're workin' on." his tail flicks across the backs of your thighs as he stalks around the table, diminishing the space between you. inch by inch. breath by breath. prowling. you track him warily, but a sharp gasp—low, so low he swears he's imagining it—slips through your gritted teeth when his palms flatten against the counter on either side of your waist, your shoulder blades nearly pressed to the junction of his navel and thigh. you jolt when his tail curves downward to wrap around your ankle (fragile, he thinks, so breakable) and squeeze.

"hey—" you warn, the force with which you grip the lab bench beneath you burning half-circle indentations of your fingernails into your palms. "what are you—"

"show me," he coaxes, voice like honey down the curve of your spine. "teach me, if you wanna. 'm not complainin'." his face goes slightly slack when you shift your weight, the cotton of your coat brushing against his tensed lateral muscle. your proximity is stifling. suffocating. he nearly tackles you to the floor when your hand tentatively encases his wrist, the illusion of distance accompanied by an empty threat of resistance. (he just can't help himself, you see. hunting prey is in his biology; he has to do it to survive. and you understand that, don’t you, sweet girl?)

"teach you?" your voice is erogenously breathless, spine fleetingly rigid. ramrod-straight, enraptured in the suggestive slide of his skin against yours. he resists the urge to outline the arc of your back with his knuckles. with his tongue. "not a service i offer, sully. not for you."

"who's it for, then?"

you shoot him a dark look over the incline of your shoulder, a brooding lilt scripted in the slant of your brow. an unavailing warning to his wandering hands. "why does it matter?"

the scent of you floods his senses as you shift, and his focus momentarily gives way to antiseptic and dampened soil, lemon and fresh chamomile, pine and vanilla-tinged sweat. a lingering body lotion, perhaps, or a coveted perfume. (and oh, are you trouble. trouble in the form of gentle hands, soft eyes, fragile bones. trouble in the way your defiance bleeds like a salted wound, roving gaze shirking under the weight of his shadow. it is raw, the way he longs to sink his teeth right into your godforsaken throat, apologies already teasing the tip of his tongue, just waiting for him to extinguish the fire he started—).

"just wanna know who's been spendin' time w' my girl." jake's chest vibrates with amusement against the dip of your nape, but the salacious slip of his tongue against the roof of his mouth betrays him. the heat of you burns through his layers (well, layer) of clothing, akin to an open flame. taunting him. tempting him. his gaze drops to the flex of your neck, the hypnotic flutter of your pulse thrumming dangerously close to the surface; the involuntary twitch of his fingers is only customary. only natural. "you're in 'ere too much, baby. gotta get you out."

"here's where the money is, jake," you counter, and his stomach seizes when your elbow brushes the braided cords of his tewng [loincloth]. "all the samples from the valley still need to be cataloged, and norm brought me a—"

jake's voice slices through the air, crackling roughly with unbidden contempt, an edge of resentment he can't quite bring himself to swallow. "you're gettin' samples from that asshat now?"

you crook a brow. "well. he offered." (he battles the depraved urge to clasp his hand around the dainty column of your throat, to press his chest flush against the arch of your spine. to school you in the art of possession, of ownership, of instincts that slither through bone marrow, of urges that writhe beneath his skin like a sickness, ravenous and unrepentant.)

his jaw flexes lazily, tongue pressing heavy against the inside of his cheek. his restraint is a brittle thing, straining beneath the weight of something starved. something venomous. "'s that right?" his teeth flash pearly-white. "doin' a lot for you, isn't he?"

you whirl on your heels to face him, snaring his gaze in yours. your vexation rises, fiery and unmistakably overeager, but a viscous want accompanies it, swirling in the whites of your eyes. it grows bolder under his earthy stare, a mere captive to the deepening hunger stretching wordlessly between you. it lingers, needlessly persistent in its provocation—the constant standoff of shallow breaths and locked jaws, of tongues bitten raw and fists clenched around unfulfilled promises of restraint. his stare tumbles downward to the wicked curve of your mouth, and he swears he can taste the startled exhale of breath that leaves you. gotcha.

"ever heard of overstaying a welcome, sully?" your expression dissolves into schooled imperturbability.

his braids follow the movement of his head as it tilts, azure skin glimmering aquamarine in the lab's sterile lamplight. your eyes track the slow sway of each woven strand, the way the beads threaded into each end collide sharply in sync—hypnotic, deliberate. erotic, almost. "careful, doc. keep talkin' like that and i might just start thinkin' you don't like me very much."

"i don't," you respond swiftly, but a flicker of suspicion contracts his pupils. he doesn't believe you for a single damn second. (and you're so pretty when you lie, aren't you? pretty girl, so resistant to an orbit your body is meant to sustain. saliva coats his mouth. the things he thinks of doing to you are despicable. downright lewd, even. he thinks of folding you in half. he thinks of molding you to his pleasure until you can't tell his name from your own. he thinks of making you cry. and he should feel guilty. he should chain himself to contrition. but he doesn't. he never has. he never will.)

he leans in. grins in wolfish pride when your pulse skips one, two, four beats. "you're a good liar, pretty. gotta give you that."

you jerk forward instinctively when one of his hands slides to your stomach, forcing the arch of your spine to coalesce with the unforgiving edge of the table. the other dips under your coat, captivation evident in the way his palm stretches effortlessly around the fullness of your waist. it is nearly consumption, an unfurling desire hell-bent on catharsis. on bitter-blooded ecstasy. (it is only nature, he reminds himself. it is only his new body, adjusting to the unfamiliarity of want for an object he cannot have. cannot attain. he's not himself. he's not thinking straight.)

"jake." a tinge of nervousness colors the syllables of his name as your mouth parts around them. he drops onto his haunches just as you reach for him, eluding the desparity of your touch. your hand flexes in midair, barren. "what are you—"

"bet norm's thought about this." his voice is a rasp against your skin, curling warm in the crook of your neck. his nose brushes the tender slope of your pulse point as his words wash over it, savoring the frantic thrum of your heartbeat against his lips. "bet he's wonderin' what you feel like under all these—" a pause. intentional, drawn-out. with an arbitrary flick of his wrist, he slides your lab coat off your shoulders, his fingers ghosting across the expanse of bare skin he can see. "clothes."

"what the fuck are you talking about?" there is no bite to your bark, a weak imitation of pious resolve hovering in the air between you.

"y'don't think so?"

"jake, stop."

he heeds the urgency in your tone, leaning back on his heels. (he knows you're fighting it. fighting him. stubborn, sweet girl, ankles deep in quicksand. so damn eager to play the ethical upper hand. so devoutly attached to your cool-blooded composure. so resolute in slipping from his grasp. flighty. he grits his teeth. then again, he's always liked butterflies. they look so pretty on their backs.)

your shudder of breath betrays you. "this isn't—we can't."

his eyes narrow—watching, knowing. he can smell it on you, the quiet betrayal of your body, the want fused to the rhythm of your pulse. it pools in your gaze, a laceration bound by silence. his fingers trace idle patterns along your thigh, evocative of ink kissed into parchment. a silent mantra hums beneath his touch—mine, mine, mine. "don't you want it?"

"jake."

"it's a yes or no question, pretty."

"that's not fair." your lower lip juts outward, crowned by the swell of your trembling inhale. "you've don't even like me. and you're a pain in the ass. i'm not letting you take my clothes off just 'cause—"

"who says i don't like you, huh?" he presses his nose to your sternum, grinning viciously when you choke. "i like you tons, baby."

"you didn't let me finish. i'm not letting you take my clothes off just 'cause—"

"who says i was gonna take your clothes off?"

your fingers sink into his hair, curling along the sharp cut of his jaw, thumbs hooked around the curves of his ears. controlling, captivating. taking what is already yours. he is gold wrapped in skin, inescapably sweltering beneath your touch. liquid longing fills the void of cloying stillness, his gaze dragging lazily over your lips, your throat, the shell of your ear. your echoed stare is a live wire, leaping frantically from feature to feature. "you talk too much." the words ghost from your lips like silk. like a promise of calamity, of disaster.

his ears twitch, tracking the staggered cadence of your breath. "you keep lookin’ at me like that,” he drawls, smirk broadening, "and i’m gonna start thinkin’ you wanna do somethin’ about it."

and for once, you do.

you yank him forward, crushing your mouth to his with enough force to bruise. his answering groan reverberates down the channel of your throat as his teeth catch your lower lip, eyes eclipsed by the storm-black of his pupils. he does not hesitate to lay claim. does not hesitate to anchor your body against his, swallowing your startled yelp. it is animal, the festering in his chest. lust. it makes devils of good men. makes massacres of soldiers.

"'s this what you wanted? huh?" his hands palm the outline of your chest, marveling at the artificial ribcage his fingers provide. (he resists the urge to nip at the indentation of your collarbones, at the dainty bone lining the column of your throat). your hands scramble for his biceps when he slots an arm underneath your thighs and single-handedly places you on the counter. "yeah, y'did."

"shut up," you whimper, and oh, fuck, his teeth ache. there is no bite to your bark, a weak imitation of resolve hovering in the air between you. "j-just shut up."

"nah." jake stands as he slots a thigh between your legs, parting them around the intrusion. his mouth moves south to taste the damp skin of your pulse point, salty musk exploding on the base of his tongue as he sinks to his knees. (and he'd pray to you, if he could. would bring you trinkets at an altar made of gold. would stroke his cock right there, at the edge of your world and his, begging for you to touch him.) "i think y'like it when i talk." his nostrils flare. "can smell it on you."

the cotton of your shirt doesn't stand a chance; it tears like aged paper beneath his hands, splitting stitches merely rendered a casualty of his need. your entire body jolts, mouth poised in a soundless gasp as his name tumbles out of your mouth, caught in a dangerous balance of shock and rapture. his grin widens. "could fit all of you in 'ere," jake breathes in wonder, fingers unfurling against the expanse of your ribcage, cyan thumbs hooking under the padded fabric of your bra. "in my hands."

"god." the word rips from your throat, breathless, a prayer to something holy. something sacred. your head drops forward in surrender, forehead pressed against the sharp curve of his collarbone. his hands are everywhere—everywhere, everything, all at once—as the clasp of your bra gives way and his tongue draws forward to trace agonizingly slow circles against the side of your breast, just an inch from the growing tightness throbbing beneath your skin. "someone—someone could see us—"

"let 'em." it is sacrilegious, your little whimper, the way it escapes from the corner of your mouth. it instigates sin. calls upon forces beyond his better judgement, beyond plain, good common sense. beyond right and wrong. his fangs graze your nipple, and a harsh breath catches halfway up your throat, the hand in his hair tightening around his kuru {braid} instinctively. he chokes roughly, slicing through the silence with a drawling inhale. (careful, pretty.) a shameful blush paints your cheeks in mahogany as your hands trail downward, tracing the corner of his mouth with the pad of your thumb. (there is but a single strand of mangled control holding him together, and the second he snaps—).

all it takes is one, broad palm flat against your sternum for your shoulder blades to kiss the cold metal of the table underneath you. pinned. (trapped). he tears into you like scripture. devouring not with mercy, not with patience—but with reverence. with ecstasy. it is simply a testament to the ruinous want stitched into the carbon-fiber of his bones, a hunger that has kept him starving, aching, waiting. your breath stutters, wrecked and disparately shallow, slipping from your lips in uneven waves. (he has never wanted anything the way he wants you. has never even known he could want something this damn much. and yet here you are, in front of him, his pretty little girl—). you lift your hips obediently when his hands slip under your leggings, earning a low hum of approval as he tugs at the panties clinging wetly to your cunt, leaving both in a haphazard tangle around your ankles. his thumb presses into your pulse, feeling for frantic jump in your heartbeat.

"look at you," he drawls, tone akin to that of a drawn-out prayer. his entire frame shakes, an embodiment of fraying restraint. "so pretty f'r me. fuckin' wet, too."

you only realize he's dipped inside you when the tip of his middle finger brushes the silken, pulsating center of your core, a stretch so deep it borders on cruel. your entire body jolts as your mouth falls open in in a soundless cry, fingernails clawing uselessly at the table’s edge. his groan bleeds through your ribs, settling into the hollows like a symphony only your bones remember. en echo of something long buried. "jake. jake, oh, fuck—"

"that's my name, baby," he mutters, thumb smearing through your slick, cautious circles gathered methodically around the tingling bundle of nerves at the apex of your thighs. (your arousal smells like rain, like velvet rose, like a hazy memory of a garden at dawn gnawing at his fraying conscious.) "jesus fuck, can't even get two fingers in 'ere, pretty. how're you gonna take my cock like this, huh?" the sound that rips from your throat in response is nothing human. his fangs flash crystal, scissoring hand devastatingly carving out space to fit himself in between the thighs of a body not meant to hold him. a body not meant for his hands to touch. (but it would take divine intervention to stop him now. he is a hound, an animal spoiled rotten by the scent of flesh. your flesh.)

your hips jerk at the unexpected sight of his middle and ring finger sinking into his mouth, leaving your empty cunt clenching around nothing. your pupils blow wide as he hums against the sweetness of you on his tongue, swiping the muscle downward to catch the droplets of milky white lingering across his knuckles. (he finds himself wondering if your tears will taste as good as your cunt does). his name escapes your lips in a whisper, trailing gently over the softness of your skin. your pulse is a wreckage beneath his palm as his mouth crashes over yours once more, the prickling rhythm erratic against the rounded edge of your ribs.

then—he moves. presses his weight over you, drags his mouth down the line of your jaw, your throat, the shallow depression of your clavicle. "been thinkin' about this," he rasps as your hands flutter uselessly at your sides, scrambling for purchase against the line of his torso. he ruts his hips ever-so slightly forward, harshly reminded of the painful hardness throbbing under his tewng {loincloth}. "for so long. fuckin'—jerked off t'you. had a real nice dream, once."

your voice is unbearably soft, enslaved to single-minded pleasure. "you d-dream about me?"

jake's breath hitches, heat grazing the sweat-slick line of your throat. "yeah, baby. tons." his steady stare brushes yours, sapphire flush painting his freckles in a shade of liquid ivory. "gets worse after seein' you. can't sleep for days w' you patterin' around in 'ere." he raises a hand in a slow arc, fingers wandering along the tender line of his temple as the other works the strings of his tewng {loincloth} loose. it falls, forgotten, and—oh. oh. your lips part around a soundless gasp, any sense of decorum failing you. the sight of him eclipses language itself, glowing pre-cum slathering his length in a starry sheen, flushed tip carved from material far more primal than skin. than muscle, than bone. you swallow, pulse skipping, and his cocky-eyed grin only grows.

shameless, he nocks the dripping slit against the tender mess of your folds, coating himself in your slick with an unbidden groan. "wanna take samples? 's better than norm's, i promise."

"jake—oh my god." he swallows your exclamation as his mouth claims the expanse of yours, hands branding heat along your ribs, your waist, the soft, trembling flesh of his thighs. his fingers wrap around your hips and pull, the blunt, aching weight of him nudging at your entrance. you whimper, dizzy with desire. "g-go slow," you slur, clambering for his shoulders, arching your back in an effort to appease the burn pulsating under your skin. light explodes behind your closed eyelids as he slowly—slowly—sinks the first inch inside; you seize, lower stomach contracting around the foreign intrusion. the stretch sings through you, the thick head of his cock cradled between your legs, and yet jake forces himself still, a vein pulsing in his forehead.

"lemme in, c'mon, pretty," jake pants, exhaling roughly through his nose. his cock throbs restlessly inside you as instinct claws at his spine, shaking with the urge to chase the relief of being fully sheathed, of simply forcing you down the rest of the way. he grits his teeth when you mewl, glimmering tears clinging to your waterline.

"'s not gonna fit," you howl, and guilt lances through him. (that's what he does with pretty things, isn't it? he breaks them. it's in his nature, written in the code of his biological being. he can't help himself, he's so sorry, pretty girl—)

"fuck," he chokes, languish enshrining the syllables in agony. his tail wraps around your calf, soothing. easing. "fucking shit, i'm so sorry, pretty—"

"hurts more when you stay still," you whisper, eyelashes damp where they flutter against the heat of your cheeks, and jake's breath pans over your throat in a sinking shudder. your vision spotlights as his fingers pull upward, reaching between your parted lips to gather the saliva pooling at the corner of your mouth. he kisses the shell of your ear as he strokes your spit lazily over his length, whining lowly at the lewdly-wet squelch. "d'you hear that?" his voice is enthralled. "that's you and me, baby."

your gaze flickers skyward, unfocused and glassy. mindless. (always thinking, aren't you, baby? he's happy to help you turn it off, if you'd let him. happy to strip you down to something soft, something malleable in his grasp—something that belongs only to him. it’s only fair. it’s what you deserve). a dark chuckle rumbles from his chest, sharp with satisfaction. (yeah, you'd like that, wouldn't you?).

he gives you no warning before taking hold of your hips, molding your lower body in a high arch, and sinking the rest of the way in.

"jake—!" his name leaves you in a breathless sob, a prayer, a curse, a requiem. you're nearly catatonic, twitching like you’ve been electrocuted as you spasm beneath his hands, the girth of him infiltrating the marrow of your bones, the lining of your ribs, the edges of your lungs. the dull ache in your stomach intensifies as his hips rut up, your head smacking against the ground as his ridged cock rams lecherously into the spongy entrance of your cervix. jake punches out a strangled laugh as your stomach mounds obscenely (frighteningly, if he were being honest with himself) to accommodate the sheer size of his length, a shaky hand reaching forward to feel for himself underneath your layers of quivering muscle. you jolt with a sharp cry, feet kicking helplessly in midair as tears spill in shimmering rivulets down your flushed cheeks. “so-“ he cuts himself off when your cunt, unable to squeeze around the girth of him, flutters achingly. begging for release. "tight. knew you'd be so fuckin' tight—"

he doesn't wait. can't. his hips roll forward, dragging another devastatingly thick thrust through the vice-like grip of your cunt, the sensation of him rearranging you from the inside out. his hand slips between your thighs (greedy, insistent), feeling for the slick heat pooling there, brushing over the tender, swollen knot of your clit. he drinks your shaky squeal, chest rising and falling in rapid succession as he folds forward, tongue swiping across your upper row of teeth. "jake,” you sob, a wrecked little thing, hands fisting in his braids, grasping for something, anything. "'m gonna cum—oh god, i wanna c—please, can i, jake, please—"

"w'me," jake manages to hiss, tongue swirling patterns into the wounded skin of your clavicle. the blunt tip of his cock twitches as his thrusts shallow, a moan purred into the junction between your neck and shoulder. the tightness in his stomach ebbs as the wet slap of your pelvis against his reverberates in the air, a symphony of noise escaping your throat as he fills your womb in thick, unrelenting waves of searing warmth. you sob raggedly in relief, convulsing under the weight of his palms, cleaving lines of deepening crimson in his back. (pretty little thing. so good for him. you'd let him do this every night, wouldn't you? would let him bury himself to the hilt until he flooded your cunt with his seed, would let him turn your pristine skin a splotchy, bruised shade of fuchsia.)

he thinks with his teeth, lovely girl, and you've got such a pretty neck.

note: WOW WHY DID THIS TAKE ME FOREVER?! i was so smut-stumped for whatever reason, so i apologize for the rushed ending and for the fact that i forgot to include jake taking sips of CO2 while he was in an oxygenated lab LOL (the stem girl in me is screaming at them having sex IN THE LAB). this one's for @pandoraslxna!! love always from lani!!

[s0urw00lfsrants]

Being a girl is pt.2: deciding you’ve read enough fics for the moment and swiping out of the app just to re-open tumblr or open wattpad/ao3

[wheneclipsefalls]

Little Gift - Latch

Neteyam photo by @cinetrix

Pairing: Dark Aged Up Neteyam x Human Fem Reader

Warnings: aged up characters, DUBCON/NONCON, kidnapping, MDNI EXPLICIT, yandered qualities, possessive behavior, slight degradation, interspecies intimacy, swearing, power imbalance, sub reader, dom Neteyam, manipulation, hair pulling, creampie, a lot more stuff but at this point you hopefully know whether or not you should read haha

Summary: Victory is finally his and Neteyam knows exactly how he wants to celebrate it.

A/N: A little unsure about my word choice but it's been fun writing from Neteyam perspective for the first time in this series. Enjoy!

Main Masterlist I Little Gift Masterlist

You belong here, perched on his lap with your head notched against his shoulder. So small and pretty that his legs barely register your body weight. He wraps a hand around your outer thigh to angel you further against him. This is perfect.

Everything is perfect. 

Pandora has rid of those Sky Demons and his prize, his little gift, is still here in his arms where you will always be. Those traitors are no longer here to tempt you with false promises of escape and a life outside of belonging to the Olo’eyktan. You may not realize it now but they would have broken you. It is only a miracle from Eywa that has allowed your beautiful spirit to stay in tack after all those years of inhabiting the same space as those treacherous creatures. 

The RDA may think that you are a gift given by them but in reality it is Eywa that has placed you on his lap.

You were created for him. Designed perfectly inside and out. 

His reward for all that he has had to endure. 

Now with you safely tucked in his arms and his People celebrating their freedom once more, he can rest. He is free to savor all that the Great Mother has offered him, although you prove to be difficult to rangle at times. That’s okay, he enjoys a good challenge. It makes your earned submission all that more satisfying. 

He’s not sure how long one human can cry for but it appears you are shooting for a record. Your tears have soaked the feathers of his Olo’eyktan attire but he doesn’t mind, not when you are snuggling into him for comfort. 

His plan of distraction worked wonders during take off but it was only a matter of time before your mind came back online and began worrying once more about the absence of people that never truly loved you. It’s to be expected however Neteyam is pleased to find that your response is not one of anger but sadness and seeking refuge. He couldn’t have asked for anything more ideal. 

He is your refuge, your one true home and the fact that you are learning that so quickly makes a sense of pride burst within him. 

The glittering gems of your new top compliment your own sparkling tears exquisitely. It had taken weeks for him to make but it was worth it. He would want nothing less for his pet on a night of such grand celebration. However, it becomes abundantly clear that he is not the only one who appreciates the outfit. 

It’s the fifth time Lo’ak has turned in the direction of the throne while dancing to check on you. Or at least, that is how his younger brother would be sure to phrase it but Neteyam is no fool. He can see the hunger in those eyes. Typical of his younger sibling to chase after what he can not have. What Neteyam himself possesses. 

Their eyes meet and it only takes a moment for Lo’ak to recover from being caught and roll his own back at his brother and turn to continue dancing. He’s not sure how much longer this game will go on where Lo’ak pretends to hold no interest. One way or another it will come out. Neteyam’s arm tightens around your waist, fingers running through your silky hair. 

It is then that he notices your little sobs have stopped and are now replaced with long deep breaths. It’s amazing that you are able to sleep through the banging drums and echoing calls but it seems that all of your crying has worn out your poor little body. Such a fragile thing you are. 

All the more reason to keep you close. And yet another reason he finds his mind swirling back to the idea of keeping you on a leash. Ideally he would carry you to and fro but there are times where he needs to have his hands available. With your habit to wander off he can’t risk having you fall and break your little neck. A leash would be the perfect solution.

Not to mention how good you would look trailing behind him, sweet little bow around your throat as a permanent reminder of his claim on you. 

His tewng [loincloth] is unbearably tight. It presses against your soft thighs but that’s not enough. For perhaps the hundredth time you shift in his lap, unable to sit comfortably on your red ass. You’ve given up on trying to convince him to let you stand but that doesn’t stop that supple little pout from gracing your lips every time you are reminded of the pain. Even in your sleep you try to wiggle and squirm from his lap. 

Of course there is another source of your constant squirming. A source that Neteyam finds his fingers dipping down to trace over as the base just barely peeks out of your tight pussy. 

This plug is much larger than the cute one you had stowed away in your old nightstand drawer. It had taken more than a fair amount of encouragement to slot that thick piece of plastic inside your cunt but the sight was magnificent. Complain all you want but the way your walls clench around it in desperation tells Neteyam more than he needs to know. 

It’s the largest size of his collection which means that tonight is the night. Tonight you will officially become his. Your pussy will soon forever have the imprint of his thick length inside of you, ruining you for any other man. Not that you would ever have the chance to be with another male outside of him again. Jared was the end of that line and the Olo’eyktan feels no hint of remorse for taking care of that pest.

Another flash of Lo’ak’s gaze.

Neteyam feels you stir when he lets out a deep sigh. However reluctant he is, it’s important to set his brother straight. Lo’ak has an overactive imagination after all and the last thing he would want is his little brother’s curiosity and desire becoming an interruption for the wondrous night the two of you are about to have. 

Those long lashes flutter open, throat caught on a sharp intake when he stands up and places you back onto the seat. Your dazed and confused look is one that Neteyam can’t help but coo at, the pad of his thumb running over your cheek. 

“Mawey, tiyawn [be calm, love]. I will be right back.” You’re already scrambling to your knees, finally keeping the weight off of your sore bum. “Be a good girl for me and stay put, yes?”

It’s a rhetorical question and one that he doesn’t give you a chance to answer before a kiss is placed on your hairline and the Olo’eyktan is parting the crowd. It’s obvious that there is a moment where you consider stopping him. You may be hell bent on never admitting it verbally but the other Na’vi put you on edge and being around him has become your one constant, a safety you can rely on. If not for his urgency Neteyam would take his time in teasing you on the matter. 

Your face always looks even more lovely with that deep shade of red, whether from anger or embarrassment or even both. 

Later, he reminds himself.  

The female rubbing up against Lo’ak looks more than put out by his lagged reciprocation. Her displeasure colors into slight shock when she spots her Olo’eyktan coming straight towards them. Lo’ak crosses his arms as his partner quickly signs the proper respect to their leader. Neteyam dismisses her easily. 

“Excuse me, sister. I require a moment with my brother.” Neteyam ushers Lo’ak away from the scene before giving her a chance to respond or offer to give them privacy. 

The fire’s light now just barely humming over their skin. The two brothers find a moment of solace on the outskirts of the celebration. Neteyam’s ears still buzz from the sensory overload it has taken for the past few hours. 

“If you’re going to ask me for another favor can it at least wait until tomorrow? There is a party, you know.” Lo’ak tall frame lazily leans against the nearest tree and he attempts to hide the way his eyes fly over Neteyam’s shoulder towards you by making a show of tying his hair back. 

“Funny considering how eager you were to grant me a favor earlier this morning.” Neteyam’s veiny arms cross over his chest, tail whipping back and forth in the cool wind. If Lo’ak is intimidated he doesn’t show it. 

“Aren’t I a wonderful brother?” Those sharp teeth shimmer as he makes a show of giving an over the top sarcastic grin.

“Lo’ak.” Neteyam growls. 

“Jesus, calm down.” Lo’ak groans, head thrown back against the bark. “She’s still your little toy.” 

“I am not stupid, baby brother. I see the way you look at her.” 

“Whatever.” Lo’ak bristles and makes his way to stomp off but he is caught by the upper bicep. 

“I don’t want there to be any…confusion.” Silence spreads between them, the only sound being that of Lo’ak’s harsh exhale. 

“I was only watching.” He finally says, voice dropping lower. 

“And you are free to.” Small steps bring him further into his brother’s space. “But let’s be clear about whose permission you need in order to touch.” 

“And I didn’t.” His arm is ripped from Neteyam’s grasp. “I’ve only ever babysat the little brat and done all that you’ve asked of me. If you are looking for problems to address I would start with her running off at every given opportunity. Take a look for yourself!” He flails an exasperated arm in your direction but Neteyam doesn’t even bother to turn. 

“I am aware.” There is no need to look in order to know that you have once again tried your hand at another escape. He can see it in his mind’s eye now, your small body carefully hoisting itself down from the high throne. Panicked eyes racing over the crowd in search of any Na’vi that could potentially halt your actions. All that before short legs race off into the darkness. “I’m giving her a head start.” 

It’s best not to let you go too far. Eywa knows you are very skilled at finding new ways to put yourself in danger, but a little chase is an exhilarating experience. 

“Oh yeah, you going to make me chase after her for you too?” Lo’ak spits out, urging Neteyam to roll his eyes at his brother’s antics. He resists however, that wouldn’t be very becoming of the Olo’eyktan. 

“I fear you would enjoy that far too much, brother.”

Instead of fiery words shot back the only line of defense Lo’ak puts up is a scoff and frowned expression, golden eyes simmering with words that he knows better than to voice. Neteyam can give his brother credit for that at least. He knows when he is stomping on dangerous territory. You, on the other hand, seem to be learning that lesson far too slow. It seems a cute tawtute like you are more of a hands on learner. 

“Can I be excused then, oh might Olo’eyktan?” He flourishes with a sarcastic bow. 

“Leave.” Neteyam bites out simply, forcing his eyes to remain trained on his younger brother as he joins the crowd again. It’s a safety precaution just in case Lo’ak gets a bad idea even after warnings. Much to the Na’vi girl’s dismay Lo’ak does not join her again on the dance floor and instead heads straight towards the fermented fruit. No doubt he will spoil himself into a drunken state. Unfortunately for him, Neteyam already has his hands full babysitting you tonight. 

He takes his time, however, greeting a few of the clan members and partaking in a small dose of alcohol himself. With your small legs it will take you forever to get a distance that makes this chase even remotely fun. However, once the drink is empty and he has done his dues as Olo’eyktan in the social event Neteyam can no longer keep himself at bay. There are other creatures of the night that could be waiting to catch a pretty prey like you.

Tracking you down is almost laughably easy with your sweet scent wafting through the air. A scent that only grows tenfold when he comes across a peculiar piece of plastic stashed in a bush. It’s the dildo that is meant to still be snuggled up in your little cunt. 

A sharp smirk cuts into his features. 

For such a smart little thing you really can be so negligent at times. With the dildo out your scent now goes from a dulled perfume to a thick fragrance that coats the air. He recognizes that aroma, he knows the way it tastes. Your arousal has only made you an easier target and now you have done nothing but take out the one piece keeping it plugged. Neteyam can envision so clearly that trail of slick that is sure to be marking your thighs. 

Such a messy little thing you are. Even after the way he cleaned you up so dutifully post launch, you have managed to turn into a wet temptation once more. 

The small footprints along the dirt are almost pointless in his pursuit now that he has your scent. They only serve as a confirmation that he is going the right way. It doesn’t take long before the sound of your sharp panting reaches his upturned ears. It’s then that the Olo’eyktan takes to the trees. He glides along the thick branches without a sound, gaining a bird’s eye view of your desperate running. 

The full on sprint you started off with has come down to a clumsy jog. Even with your small stride he’s sure you could make it a lot further if you would simply stop looking over your shoulder every other second. An action that has you stumbling and grabbing your foot to pick out a thorn from the underside. Little curses rise between your harsh breaths. 

And then your breathing is cut all together. 

The sounds of claws and wild yips echo through the greenery. By the sounds of it Neteyam knows it must be a small pack of aynantang [viperwolves]. They aren’t close, at least not yet. With your back turned and eyes blown out in silent terror he decides that now is as good a time as ever to interrupt. 

Neteyam lowers himself down slowly, muscular arms controlling his descent into a movement so smooth and silent that it is nothing more than a shadow. A shaky hand covers your lips, the little puff of your beating heart pushing your chest out even more. One long step forward and now he can watch your trembling from above, his toes almost touching your muddy heels. 

“Their bite is not as sharp as mine, pet.” 

You scream before the sound can be stopped, spinning so fast your heel that you land directly on your red bum instead. Even without glowing tanhi dotting your skin, those dilated eyes have a way of making you glow in the night. Even more so when they dazzle up at him with unleashed fear and vulnerability. 

You scramble backwards, clawing at the muddy ground until you are clumsily trying to crawl back onto your feet. Fine by him, it’s easier to close the height difference when you are back to standing. He grabs your right arms easily, pulling you back against him. The fight continues as you turn to bash your first against his abdomen, even clawing at his thighs but then another sound cuts you off again. 

They are closer this time.

“They hunt in packs.” Neteyam informs you. “Circle their prey until there is nowhere left to go.”

A rustle of bushes to the left has your squirming changing from running away to ducking behind Neteyam. He allows the action, sharp teeth peeking from his grin when he feels the way your soft fingers dig into his thighs. 

“My father was almost killed by a pack once. Even in his avatar form he depended on my mother’s mercy to fight the creatures off.” You shake like a leaf in the wind, your face pressed against his lower back when the sounds get louder. He almost feels bad for scaring you so much, tempted to bundle you in his arms and shush your worries away. However, that would ruin the lesson. You are the one that decided to run off carelessly into the woods without him and now you need to understand why you depend on Neteyam for everything. Why you owe him your submission and affection. 

“I wonder how you would fair.” A few more wolves prowl from the bushes, inching closer. They creep forward with a hesitance at the sight of Neteyam, driven only by curiosity as your scent continues to fill the air. 

“Teyam.” You whimper into his hip, now latching onto the strap of his loincloth to urge him backwards. 

“What’s wrong, pet? I thought you wanted to be set free?”

A vicious snarl rip from the right and you stumble to cling to his left side now. That startled little scream is just barely muffled by the way your face is pressed into his hip. 

He coos at your little pleas. “Has someone changed their mind, hm?” Any other time you would be barring your blunt teeth at him but he knows that in the height of your fear there is no resistance left for him. You’re too focused on the prowling beasts that flash their own teeth in eclipse’s glow. 

“Teyam please, let’s go!” Voice caught on sobs that threaten to rise, you can barely make the words out. 

Your fear is palpable, but not just to him.The aynantang [viperwolves] can sense it too. They circle and watch with more confidence as the seconds roll by. Periodically they flicker up to his looming form, as if checking to see whether or not he will be a threat against their newfound meal. It would be easy to scare them off, something Neteyam has done himself many times. He’s hunted these forests since he was a boy and his own scent is something that the creatures have learned to associate with danger. 

Standing here now, however, he keeps a neutral position and one that the pack hesitantly takes as an opportunity to cinch closer. A flash of his knife and that confidence would disintegrate until the pack would scurry off into another corner of the forest. 

Neteyam keeps it sheathed. 

“You’re the one that ran off, little gift.” He reminds you, voice calm and cool. 

“I know! I know! I’m sorry j-just please!” 

“Please what, tiyawn? You have to be more specific.” 

You struggle to respond properly, hands frantically switching from tugs at the straps to clawing up at his arms. Regardless, Neteyam remains unmoved, arms crossed over his chest as he observes the scene with indifference. “Please..please don’t let them-” You gasp rearing back when you spot another viperwolf emerging from the left. It’s been there for a while but it appears this is the first time your weak eyes have caught sight of it. “I’m sorry! I’ve changed my mind! Please, I’m sorry.” You cry out in a shrill voice, plastering yourself under his arm. 

“Changed your mind on what?” It’s tempting to look down and see the way you so desperately seek his comfort but Neteyam is wise enough to keep his golden gaze sharply pinned on the emerging creatures. 

“On wanting to leave! You can take me home just please-”

“Oh can I?” Your chin is snatched between two fingers, forcing you to crane your neck up towards him. That mask of indifference is gone, replaced only  by a fierce stirness you are terrified to be facing twice in one day. “And what makes you think that is up to you?”

It’s hard to look into your eyes directly when they are bouncing wildly in every which direction. Perhaps it is your pitiful way of tracking the oncoming predators, or maybe you simply can not handle facing his gaze filled with ire. Either way, it is adorable to watch your natural submissive nature emerge. And all from a few viperwolves. 

Poor thing, what would you do without him?

“I-I’m sorry.” You say, voice so small and timid that only a Na’vi would have hopes of hearing it. Neteyam’s chest rumbles with a deep purr, other hand finally coming up to run through your hair.

“I know you are, tiyawn. You just get confused sometimes, don’t you?” No response is given, instead just a gasp as another creature inches closer and you dash into his arms. This time he wraps one arm around your small frame while the other goes for his sheathed knife. The advance pauses, aynantang  [viperwolves] pacing from side to side instead. Your reaction is premature but Neteyam basks in it all the same.

From the heated breath and salty tears painting his lower stomach he begins to worry that your fragile body will soon give out and lose consciousness. Keeping you tucked under his arm is the best move, easily accessible for when he needs to scoop you up without retaliation. However at this point, it seems that you are willing to do whatever it takes to earn his protection.

What a short memory you truly have. Perhaps if you listened to him more diligently like a good pet should then you would already know that his protection has been yours since the first time he saw you. He would defend you to his very last breath. Whether or not you asked for it would be irrelevant. That being said, you’ve always had the sweetest way of begging so who is he to deny himself such a pretty chorus of promises. 

They flow now freely from your lips. Pleading, crying, and begging for him to get you out of harm's way. He simply shushes you, making no rush as a rigid arm tightens to pull you even closer. 

The creatures are scared off within the first few hisses that leave his lips. Knife dancing under the moonlight with a deadly promise, they yip away reluctantly. Still, there is an advantage to not letting you know how easy it truly is to scare them off so he tells you to look away, to keep snuggled against him where they can not so easily see your fear. 

You remain that way when you are lifted into his arms. Your thighs strain to wrap around his ribcage but you eventually manage to lock your ankles together. With your shaky limbs locked in terror you are barely in need of his supporting arm, but he wraps one under your rear anyways. You remind him of a small syaksyuk [Prolemuris] as you cling with fervor, lighting his amusement to new heights. 

The walk back is pleasant, even when your shaking doesn’t stop and your racing heart beat is louder than the stomp of his feet. There is still great peace to be found with you in his arms and the promise of a wonderful night in the air. After tonight you won’t dare to leave him, not now that you have developed a healthy sense of fear and even more so once your body has taken him fully the way it was meant to. 

He holds back a groan at the thought. Your smell is still just as potent as when you first ran and now it holds an extra tang of emotion that makes it all that much sweeter. He manages to pick up the tossed aside dildo on the way back, but that acts as fuel to the flames. 

He has sought after your true mating for months and now that he is on the cusp of finally making it a reality it is hard to keep a rational mind. The natural urge to pin you down and take what has always been his morphs into a feral urgency that infringes on his thoughts. Although, he is determined to take his time tonight because it is isn’t enough to simply fuck you into the ground or find pleasure in that first stretch. No, tonight is about claiming you in every way possible. 

About teaching not only your body but your mind that there is no one else it belongs to. No one else that can provide for you in the way he can. Utter and complete submission is his goal. But to get you there, that will take skillful maneuvering and coercion. Otherwise it would not be a quest worthy of his time or attention. 

However, there is still one more way he can lock you into his life. One permanent reminder that would forever keep you shackled to him. An action that would have your scent intertwined with his so much so that it wouldn’t matter if it took. Pregnant or not the message would be clear. The confines of his loincloth feel suffocating at the thought. Would your tiny pussy even be able to hold half of his seed? What a pretty treat it would be to see it spilling out from your perfectly pink and tight hole. 

Pace now quickened, nothing can take away his laser focus. Not even Lo’ak’s obvious staring as you are carried swiftly along the outer edges of the celebration. Nor Spider who tries to run across the crowd and apologize again. Neither make it to him because all that he can feel is the warmth of your softy body. The pulse of your heart. The essence that is entirely yours, filling his lungs. 

Once back in the safety of his kelku [home/house] you are smart enough to not flee from his lap. He manhandles one leg to be thrown to the other side so you are properly straddling him. A sense of shyness must fall over you because you are silent while nervously fiddling with the feathers of his traditional attire. Or maybe you are still too shaken up over the little viperwolf incident to do much else. 

Neteyam is unbothered by it, instead using it as an opportunity to let his hands explore. Not in a sexual way at first, just simple brushes that are sure to have you melting for him.

“Now you understand why you must stay by my side. Don’t you pet?” Voice as gentle as the hands that run up the back of your neck, he can feel goosebumps rise in its wake. Eyes still fixated on the feathers, you nod shakily. If it wasn’t so cute he would be tempted to reprimand you for such a half hearted response but it appears luck is in your favor. 

His knuckles paint a trail up the back of your neck before swiping over your left shoulder. His other hand softly gathers your hair to the other side so your skin is bared for him. He thumbs at the side of your throat, feeling your pulse flicker beneath his fingers. 

“Such a pretty thing like you is not safe out there.” His hands bracket either side of your face, large enough to span the entirety of your head and tilt it upwards. It gives him the perfect view of your expression when both hands smooth up towards your hairline before parting and dragging along your scalp. Lips parted and eyes fluttered closed, he knows he has pressed the right button. 

“Creatures eager to snatch you up.” Neteyam draws out, nails ever so gently scratching along your roots. The shiver that races through your body is powerful enough to be visual. Massaging at the area in long strokes proves to have you breaking into pieces. Body practically limp against him, the Olo’eyktan watches with glee. 

No wonder Sky People are too soft for this world, all it takes to disarm you is some well placed pets. 

“And they’d be successful too,” The tips of his fingers come together to circle your hair into a ponytail. A small sound exhales from your lips, leaning into his touch without resolve. “Have you between their teeth before you could even scream.” That dark tone washes over you in a way so contrary to the warning message, his lips mere centimeters away from your own. 

One little kiss, more of a peck really. That is all you get. Just enough to have you chasing after him, a motion that is hard to do when he has you anchored by the root of your hair. 

“And that,” Another soft peck to your cheek, “is why you are so lucky to have me.” Neteyam allows his lips to linger longer this time but it’s still just as soft, almost more of a whisper than anything else and with the way you are trapped, there is nothing for you to do but take it. The noise that catches in your throat proves it is far from the passionate affection you desire. 

“Isn’t that right?”

“Yes Teyam.” You puff, the softest whisper as you try to learn forward for more. He tutts in disapproval, a slow but firm yank to your hair following. “Y-yes Olo’eyktan.” You correct yourself with a squeak and much to his delight, the fragrance from between your thighs intensifies. He’s tempted to look now and see if it has left a spot on his loincloth. 

“There’s my good girl.” He grins and finally you are rewarded with his lips capturing yours. Although slow and tender in movement the heat of the kiss is all consuming, spreading a message that can only reflect his complete control over you. Several times you try to squirm or wiggle but the hand embedded in your hair shackles you into place. 

Unlike most times you become a fidgeting little thing, it’s clear that your efforts are to get closer, not further away. Neteyam is a nice man after all and so he indulges that desire. At least to a degree. He kisses you until you’re gasping for breath. He kisses you until slick is seeping through your mini loincloth. And he kisses you until those soft little lips are ruby red and chapped from the harsh treatment. 

It doesn’t matter to you, that much is clear by the way you whimper once he pulls away. 

“Don’t be greedy.” He smirks against your cheek.

Your greed only intensifies when he slips one hand down to untie your loincloth. His other hand remains embedded in your hair as a leash, one that proves necessary as you are eager to rut up against him. Perhaps he would feel guilty for the way you blush in shame after another tug to your hair. That is, if your reactions weren’t so delightfully endearing. 

For reasons mysterious to him, humans have a habit of going against their natural needs. You are not exempt from this issue as you are constantly trying to deny your desire for him, even deny yourself the pleasure you so clearly require. It’s fortunate that you have him to override those silly concerns. And override them he does, quite easily since your body reacts like a live wire every time he is near. The smallest of touches have you aching for more.

Eywa has blessed him with such a responsive little pet and he has every intention of exploiting that sensitivity until you are screeching for him to stop. 

Small hands come to dig into his feathered mantle as he idly explores the curves of your stomach. He traces up until reaching the sparkling gems of your top. With two little flicks your hardened nipples are bared for him. 

It’s a rare experience to have you so cooperative as he bites and sucks at those little peaks. The emotions of that day have softened your resolve, a pattern that Neteyam makes a mental note of. 

He tunes into every sensation of satin skin beneath his fingertips. Atop his thighs. Prickling beneath his lips. Like a flower you blossom for him so exquisitely. Revealing petals that are just for him. Melodic whimpers that only he has the pleasure of inducing. The irritation of Lo’ak’s infatuation fades to the background with you so pliant in his arms. 

You are quickly driven to madness, or at least is how you plead when he continues to trace, worship and tease your small body. Neteyam is anxious too. His hard member presses painfully against the fabric of his tewng. However, being the first born son has taught him something that you very rarely exhibit: patience. The fruits of your labors are tenfold more exhilarating once following a period of yearning. 

And you yearn for him, little gift. So much so that your dramatic begging has him holding back a deep chuckle. 

A river of nectar flowing down your thighs, you act as if you will pitter into dust if not satisfied. 

It will be fun training you. Making you learn to sit patiently like a good pet when that inferno of fire burns deep within you. He can devise a plethora of creative punishments for when you inevitably step out of line. Neteyam looks forward to the long process. He wouldn’t want to succeed too quickly and cut the fun short.

Luckily your spit fire attitude is sure to draw it out, keeping him entertained and challenged for a long time. 

The reasoning is only further confirmed when he catches you sneaking a tiny hand between your legs. The grip in your hair finally releases only for him to sharply smack away your attempt. 

“Did I say you could do that?” 

You’re exasperated, pleading eyes staring up at him as a drawn out groan comes from your lips. 

“Well are you planning to tease me all night or actually do something?” 

You’re pinned onto your back in a heartbeat, this time his right hand curled around your throat instead of your hair. It may not be firm enough to cut off your airway but the oxygen in your lungs freezes all the same. 

“Oeyӓ tiyawn I have greater plans for my pussy than using your pathetic little fingers.” He growls into your ear, watching as you are too frozen in shock to bother struggling. “Because by the end of tonight it will be filled with my seed.” 

Your throat bobs with a thick gulp, stuttered words struggling to come forth but a tad more pressure against your pulse earns your silence. And to his fascination, your eyes roll back into your head. Fight it all you want, but it’s clear you have always thrived off of his domination. This power imbalance is one that you need. Satisfying that deeply locked away drive you have to be loved, pampered, controlled, and absolutely ruined.

Just in the way only he can deliver. 

Squeeze any tighter and his fingers might just lose circulation. Regardless, the dildos have done their job effectively and now you are more than ready to take him. It was always going to be a tight fit, but at least there is little risk of real injury due to his preparations. 

You appear less convinced on that matter when his unoccupied hand roughly tugs off his tewng. Wide eyes stare down to where his full length lays along your stomach. He has to admit that in a position like this the size difference does become ever more staggering but he has every faith in you. 

“Neteyam please,” You whimper, shiny eyes staring up at him for mercy.

“Please what?” He hums. His fingers curl to massage that special spot inside while his thumb playfully runs over your clit. It has the desired effect, watching as your begging turns towards a different goal.

“Please let me cum! Need it! Neteyam please!”

Neteyam shushes you tenderly, relieving some of the pressure from you little button when he feels your cunt clench around him on the verge of an orgasm. You’ve never looked more beautiful than now, naked and spread across the little nest of blankets and pillows he arranged just for you. Long hair splayed out in every which direction and eyes already coated in a haze, it appears as if you have already been fucked dumb beneath him. 

“Patience, little gift. You will cum on my cock soon enough.” 

Your alarm flares up once more. 

“No Neteyam I can’t! It’s too big, it’s impossible-”

A large thumb presses over your lips to silence you. At this rate you are going to work yourself into hysterics and that would unravel all of the hard work he has done to get you here. A few more intentional circles on your clit has those protests flying out the door. It’s clear you require his help to stay calm and compliant the way you are meant to. The Olo’eyktan doesn’t mind aiding.

Your chest rises and falls dramatically as you melt under the pleasure. And when his three fingers are replaced with the head of his cock lining up, you hardly even notice. As long as that little bundle of nerves is being stimulated, you are hyper focused on seeing out that ecstasy to a finish. 

A soft kiss dampens your screech when he slots in just the tip. Already his mind swirls from the sensation but Neteyam manages to reign in his focus. Little ‘no’ s and pleas fall from your lips to caress his. 

“Mawey, oeyӓ tiyawn [be calm, my love]. You are being so good for me.” Another inch and it feels as if his own knees are about to crumble from how tightly you cinch around him. Small hands fists into the fabric below as your eyes squeeze shut. Neteyam shakily grasps one with his right hand, placing it along his shoulder that is now exposed with the feathered attire out of the way. “You can touch, little pet. Good girls deserve rewards.” 

With your face just barely reaching chest level the Olo’eyktan is forced to bend into an awkward position every time he goes to kiss away your tears, but it’s worth it. Those blunt little nails dig into his lower back. It’s a shame they aren’t strong enough to leave marks that he can cherish.

The air from his lungs are pushed out in a rush as he plunges ever so slightly deeper inside your sweet little pussy. You tense and cry beneath him, scratching as his back in haste. Although mere seconds away from popping his load far too early he still manages to reach down and play with your poor little cunt until more of that sweet essence is trailing out. 

“You need to relax for me, pet.” Neteyam grits, tail curling erratically. “Going to suffocate my cock like this, little one.” And it’s true because in all of his years of sexual maturity not once has he ever felt a pussy so tight, so responsive, wrapped around him. It drives him to the point of insanity. It takes every last bit of resolve he has left to not shove the rest of himself inside and plow you into the floor. 

But Neteyam knows better than to break his toys. 

The next few minutes test his mental and physical stamina over and over as you slowly take him inch by inch. Every slow push of his hips causes a domino effect of tears and incoherent cries from your sweet lips. He kisses and soothes and pleasures your trembling body until you’ve learned to relax again. Only to then restart the cycle when you take one inch more. 

However, nothing prepares him for the end result. No amount of dreaming or training could ever have done the sight justice as he sees the  way your soft belly bulges when he reaches the hilt. The shape of him is clearly visible, twitching so deep inside of you that it threatens to drive both of you into sensation overload. 

The groan that rumbles from his throat is one that you have never heard before. So rough and unleashed that your glittering eyes dilate in response. It’s still painful, that much he can see from the look on your face. So despite every instinct in him screaming to ruin your little pussy until it can take no more, Neteyam remains in place. 

Your swollen nub is red from his sensual play, nipples not far behind as he laps and kisses them like they are the last meal he will ever have. That beautiful blush now heats down your neck and torso, as if tempting him to continual his oral fixation. It accentuates most importantly that bulge of your stomach until he can’t help himself anymore, large hand spanning over your tummy to press on that area lightly. 

“Can you feel me, tiyawn? Right here?” He presses again, your mouth opening in a silent scream. “Taking me so deep, pet. My good girl.” 

 And it’s then that it feels as if something has clicked. Your bodies becomes attuned to one another. Burning stretch morphs into something otherworldly, those soft features finally unscrewing into fluttering bliss. And he draws out ever so slightly to rut back in, your head falls back against the pillows. 

He’s waited long enough. Pinned long enough. Crawled after you long enough. Now all that his body can do is take what you so freely give him. His hips snap forward without restrain, spurred on by the little sounds that pulse in the back of your throat. Little fingers scatter between gripping his muscular back and tangling into his braids. 

The heat that travels from his ears to toes is so intense that it feels as if he may burst into an inferno. And he truly might, little gift. With the way you hug his cock so snuggly as if you never want to let it go, you may simply kill him. He would be happy to go that way. To leave this world drowning in the bliss of your destined union. 

And for once in his life, Neteyam lets himself fully go. He chases that peak with fervent desperation. He drinks in every reaction you have to give him. And when the pleasure becomes all too much for you to take. When you grapple to crawl away from him and the mind shattering climax that is around the corner, he pulls you back down with a hiss. 

“No more running, pet.” He commands, a growl emanating so deeply from his chest that he almost doesn’t recognize his own voice. He hoists your left leg around his waist, effectively changing the angle to thrust in deeper. 

“Neteyam!” A screech like sweet honey from your lips as you finally tip over the edge. Body trembling so hard it takes that firm grip on your leg to keep it there, you crumble beneath him. His stamina is far from being drained as he rides you through it. Every wave of pleasure is stronger than a drug, leading him to cloud nine until he no longer wants to be anywhere else. 

“T-too much.” You gasp for air but your body is already succumbing to the onslaught. He can feel the way you are ramping up again. This is far from being over. 

“Give in.” Neteyam coos but the ring of that command is clear. There is no other option. That is the way it has always been because from the very beginning you have always been his. And sooner or later Eywa knew that the two of you would be here together, trapped in his love where you belong. 

“Oh God!” You cry out, body sliding up the floor with every thrust. 

Whether you find his queue by accident or on purpose is unclear but that first tug is enough to have his balls drawing up against his body, bracing to fly into bliss. There is a sticky mess between the two of you, slick enough to have those wet sounds filling the night air. Neteyam runs the flat of his nose over your sweaty temple and curve of your cheek. 

“My little gift.” He purrs, body on the brink of rupturing. He says it more for himself than you but is more than pleased to watch the way your eyes flutter close as the sound. Trembling, squeezing, and shattering around him, those are the moments your reserve of denial dries up.

That’s how it has always been. From the first night that he brought you home, tucked under his arm, you’ve had this other side that can be taunted out. Even that night as you had pleaded to be released only to have the gag put back in, his tongue had driven you to stillness. Your screaming of kidnapping had sizzled into a series of moans and ecstatic exclamations. 

There’s another side to him too.

The part of him that can finally bask in the one thing he has wanted for months. The part of him that yearns for reprieve day in and day out. The part that demands for rest- for freedom. 

Now he can finally surrender himself to the magic that the two of you create. To the sparkle that runs down your cheeks. To the sensation of being embraced so tightly by your little pussy. To the way his name has never sounded better from anyone else’s lips. Eywa has finally given him this gift, his sanctuary from every other pressure bestowed upon him. 

And now nothing is going to take it away from him.

Nothing will ever take you away.

Those are the thoughts that coerce his primal nature forward. The same that ramp the fire of his tongue demanding more from you. Pushing you further, harder, deeper. 

“You won’t let any spill out, will you pet?” He spits between grunts. 

“I-I’ll be good. I’ll be good. I’ll be good.” More of a chant on loop than anything else. One day you will beg properly. You will cry for his seed, for his babies. You won’t question whether or not pregnancy is possible as he fills your womb with his mark. 

You will wear that little bow on your neck with pride.

Neteyam forces his eyes open at the precipice. Even as his body convulses and cock pulses rampantly while painting your insides white, he won’t allow himself to miss a single moment. That imprint of your expression as he finally claims you past the point of return will stay with him. The drawn in gasp that is sucked in from your red lips when you feel that warmth will be what keeps him going on day after day. Major to minor details of tonight will be his soundtrack to perfection as he pushes himself to be the best Olo’eyktan possible. 

And when the day has worn him to the bone and those day dreams are not enough, there you will be. Waiting for him oh so sweetly. 

“I want to sleep.”

Your muffled whine coaxes a chuckle from the Olo’eyktan.

“Then sleep.” He responds, only looking up from your spread legs for a second. So peaceful and sweet you are now, almost drowned in the hammock’s blankets and pillows. The picture of innocence and beauty only to then trail his eyes lower and find the evidence of his primal claim. His bioluminescent seed paints your weeping folds and inner thighs. A new spurt erupts from your still clenching hole only for him to push it back inside with his thumb again. 

It won’t make much of a difference. There is no way your small body could ever truly hold all of it but that doesn’t stop him from teasing you all the same. 

“Looks like this little pussy will need training to savor my seed properly after all.” 

Eyes still closed you let out a groan, trying to rip your thighs from his fingers. You remain trapped as exhaustion finally overcomes you, only a small incoherent curse from your tongue before passing out. 

Neteyam grins, reaching up to straighten the little pink bow around your throat. 

Please don't be shy. Hearing your thoughts and reactions is what helps fuel my drive to keep posting. Love you, pookies<3

Taglist: @neteyamssyulang @pandoraslxna @tallulah477 @sullybrothersmate @criticallybella @lilghostiequinni @chershire23 @lala-1516 @yawnetu @puddle-nerd @ratchetprime211 @avatargirly @chocolatechocobo91 @kariz-stark @bunnscoffe @avatarwifey @universal-s1ut @witchsprit @heart-an0n @riri-is-a-girlie @rivatar @minnory @ikeyniofthetayrangi @ilovehobi101 @spicymayyo @v4mp1rr3 @nilsavatar @bambithewriter @quicktosimp @itchaboi-itchyboy @thehoneymushroomhealer @ilytulipse @imwutim @crazy4books1 @thegirlwholoveslivesfanfiction @danniackerman @dayyzlol @justabite7 @krispyjellyfishkitty @neteyamtesuli @sakurayuki8655-blog @deadpool15 @valeriinee @leaveitbythewave @aqxllo @mxnygn @crazed-flower @crimsonroses666 @property-of-neteyam @rejectedbytheeempty @erenjaegerwifee

I know there are people I probably missed. It's getting harder and harder to keep track of this taglist so don't be offended if you aren't on there. Also, a good portion of these aren't linking properly so check to see if I have entered it in correctly and if so, you might want to look into your account.

[itshelia]

Taking anti-depressant pills?? Seeing a therapist??? Journaling???? No need babe, my fav writer just dropped another x reader fic.

[zg0nuwa]

i’m not switching between my hyperfixations because i’m autistic, i’m just a whore

[stealingpotatoes]

OMGGGG YOU LIKE AVATAR I'LL EAT GLASS I'M SO HAPPYYYYYYYYYYY

will be get ever some art of it from youuuu?

PUT THE GLASS DOWN eat this instead

[onskepa]

Hi how are you? If you want, could you tell us what your headcanons would be for what the Sully children's relationship would be like with a human/avatar mother who was mated with Jake and Neytiri? Thank you very much, have a great day!

I can see a lot of possible outcomes for this one! So here ya go! Enjoy!

P.S: Reader will not be given a name in this one, instead she will be called "small mama"

Pinnacle protection

-------------------------------

Pinnacle motherhood

Right off the bat, the whole family loves their third mother, second mate. Jake sully couldn't ask for a better family, and better mates. Especially his little human mate. Neytiri will agree with him, while yes she has her children to hug, her little mate is just what she needs. Something small yet full of love just for her. 

Now like any trio, there is a balance between the parents. Jake is the head of the family, the brains with his clever ideas. Neytiri at times can be the brains but most muscle due to her skills in fighting and hunting. And their beloved human is the heart of the family. Keeping everyone together. 

And like any child, the sully kids will have favorites. And their favorite is their amazing human mother. She is the most fun, loving parent any child could ever ask for. Are they not getting their way with Jake or neytiri? To mama it is! And mama will always fold by the simple look of her kids. 

Another thing about their favorite mama, they all believe she has the power to read their minds. How else would it explain she knows their next move? 

Lo’ak and tuk can recall so many instances where they were barely forming an idea only for their mama to say “dont even think about it” or “it is not worth the trouble”. 

For neteyam, as he is the oldest he does try to be a good example for his mischievous siblings, along with holding so many responsibilities, but he can always count on his small mama for anything. Small mama consoles him, talking about anything neteyam has his mind about. 

Unlike Jake or neytiri who neteyam has to put up a strong warrior face, with a small mama he can revert back to being a baby with her. He feels safe and be a kid again with her. And small mama always called him her “little baby boy”. Neteyam won't admit it but he likes it when she calls him that. 

For kiri, she definitely adores her small mama. She is closer to her third parent than she is with neytiri. Not to be mean or anything. But with Jake, Kiri can talk about what odd things happen around her, ask her about her mother and stuff but with her small mama. Well, she can express far more with her, be free to say anything not be judged upon. Kiri can dare say small mama understands her more than anyone in the world.

With tuk, the baby of the family. Why, she loves to be the taller one, it makes her happy. Of course she would never tease her small mama that she is taller, but small mama would call her “tiny tuk”. A name tuk loves and will glady flex it for some reason. 

If tuk can't go somewhere with her older siblings, small mama would personally take her anywhere she wants to go. As long as it is safe. With small mama, everything is fun and never boring. Tuk loves the times where her hair is braided or she braids small mama’s hair. 

Now, if small mama would use her avatar, nothing much would change. Except that now the kids will demand piggy back rides. Tuk or lo’ak would be front of the line for that.  

Hunting would be easier and much more fun with jake and neytiri, running, riding their ikrans, less risk overall. 

Even with her avatar, she is still short compared to her two mates. She is smaller than Neytiri by 9 ½ inches. Not something she is super thrilled about. No matter what body, she is still small mama through and through. 

Small mama is forever grateful to live her best life with her family, loving them and saying her thanks to Eywa for blessing her to be the best of her two worlds. Through hardships, through trials, small mama has a mighty heart and a roar of an ikran. Yes sometimes she might be stressed or frustrated but life is not perfect. Small mama knows that all too well. But there is nothing better than what she has. 

[delulusionwl]

♡ I See You

Pairing ── Neteyam x Fem!Omaticaya!Reader Word ── 3k Synopsis ── In which Neteyam gets jealous about the reader having a lot of suitors, as he wants her for himself. Warnings ── A jealous!Neteyam, a little bit of angry!Neteyam, Neteyam wanting to confess to Y/N but having an internal block, Possessive!Neteyam? Yandere!Neteyam?! o.O (I wasn't expecting this as I wrote it, fr) Fluffy moments ahead! Let me know if I should warn something :) A/n ── This is my first fic/imagine of Neteyam (hearts in my eyes). I saw the film a long time ago, but I never wrote an imagine for this lovely boy. But now, here I am! Let me know if you liked it <3 Images are not mine, so credit goes to the respective owners. English is not my first language!

Neteyam was irritated. Anyone who looked at him could tell he was practically steaming, his narrowed eyes glued to the ground, his firm steps carrying him somewhere far away from the clan before he did something he might regret—or something that would earn him a stern lecture (and punishment) from Jake later on.

Once again, the eldest Sully had seen Y/n being politely courted by one of the other boys in the clan. He chuckled bitterly to himself, almost scoffing. Of course, Y/n was being courted by every young Omaticaya in the hopes of making her their mate.

If this had been a few years ago, back when Neteyam wasn’t even aware of Y/n’s existence—too busy with training and missions assigned by his father—he wouldn’t have cared about her constantly being approached. But from the moment he truly noticed her, something inside him had shifted. And that something drove him to the brink of madness every time another boy approached her.

Of course, he couldn’t expect that not to happen. Y/n was, by far, the most beautiful young woman in the clan. But it wasn’t just that. It wasn’t only her perfectly amber eyes, designed so flawlessly by Eywa, or her long, dark hair that seemed to reflect all of Pandora’s natural light, or even her radiant smile that adorned her small, round face so perfectly. No, it was more than just her looks, though the entire clan—especially the young Omaticaya men—had to notice those things about her, too.

Still, Neteyam was utterly jealous. And furious. He couldn’t just hide Y/n away from everyone, keep her somewhere safe where only he could see her, appreciate her, talk to her. Maybe even touch her—if he didn’t combust from the thought alone.

Every time he interacted with Y/n, Neteyam’s heart would pound harder and faster, his face would flush, and his palms would sweat. When he first started feeling this way, the Omaticaya thought he was ill and grew concerned, which drew Jake’s attention. Eventually, Neteyam couldn’t keep it to himself and told his father what was bothering him.

Jake Sully had to fight back a laugh when his eldest said he was in love—though not in those exact words. Still, Jake kept a serious face to maintain his authority. Jake liked Y/n; she was a good girl. He had practically watched her grow up, just as he’d watched Neteyam grow up. But he didn’t like how much she was distracting his son. As a final piece of advice, the patriarch told his son to focus harder on his training until he felt ready to confess his feelings.

And so, until that day came, Neteyam settled for forming a friendship with the young woman. He poured himself into his training, trying harder every day to push those feelings away.

Neytiri, on the other hand, had noticed what was happening without needing a word from Neteyam. She saw how he acted whenever Y/n was nearby during any clan gathering. She saw his reactions as he struggled to hide his emotions, forget them, and behave naturally around the girl. Neytiri liked Y/n, too. She thought the young woman was beautiful, talented, and caring. If it was Eywa’s will, she would gladly welcome Y/n as a daughter when Neteyam finally woke up and claimed her as his mate.

But Neytiri thought that day might take a while—and she hoped it wouldn’t be too late by the time Neteyam finally confessed.

“Neteyam?” Y/n’s sweet, melodic voice called from behind him, breaking through his thoughts. He kept walking, his long, purposeful strides carrying him anywhere far from the girl who occupied his mind—and who was now standing right behind him.

Neteyam didn’t stop walking, but his ears, along with the stiffness in his tail and shoulders, betrayed that he had heard Y/n and was fully aware of her presence.

Y/n was confused but decided to follow him in silence. She trailed after the boy through paths filled with lush vegetation and small animals, eventually arriving at a breathtaking view of Pandora from the heights of one of the great trees. The girl smiled at the sight but quickly turned her attention to Neteyam, noticing how he stood quietly, avoiding her gaze, seemingly trying to calm himself.

“Did something happen?” Y/n asked softly, taking a careful step closer but keeping some distance between them.

Neteyam swallowed down the words that were forming like a lump in his throat—words like: You shouldn’t be accepting courtships when I’m around. But he couldn’t hold back the frustrated sigh that escaped his lips. “It’s nothing,” he replied simply and calmly. He would never burden her with his confusion or irritation. After all, it wasn’t her fault she was so beautiful and skilled.

“Nete, it doesn’t seem like nothing,” Y/n said with a small laugh. The moment the nickname left her lips, Neteyam’s heart jumped wildly in his chest.

Still, he remained silent, his face beginning to flush as he stood there, choosing to focus on the view of Pandora. The sun was already starting to set, making way for the night.

“Well... I’m sorry. I guess I shouldn’t have meddled…” Y/n said softly after receiving no response, her tone a little embarrassed. She had known Neteyam for years and had never wanted to be a burden to him—quite the opposite.

The Omaticaya girl had always had her eyes on the eldest Sully, the first son of Toruk Mak'to, even before they had built their friendship. Of course, her feelings weren’t tied to his status as the son of a leader but rather to Neteyam’s gentle yet strong demeanor.

His sharp, observant eyes. His posture—one that had been largely shaped by Jake Sully’s expectations, yet which Neteyam carried with a natural grace. His careful, steady way of speaking, free of judgment. And, most of all, the way he would laugh wholeheartedly whenever he had to save Lo’ak from his own troubles.

"I... I didn’t mean to bother you, Neteyam. Sorry," Y/n said, clasping her hands together. Her ears lowered softly, and her tail stopped swaying slowly from side to side.

Before she could leave, though, the Omaticaya stopped her.

"No," Neteyam said quickly, finally meeting her eyes. He straightened himself, feeling the warmth on his face intensify, spreading to his ears, neck, and soon, he was sure, his chest. Taking an almost imperceptible deep breath, he added, "You're not a bother. You don’t have to go if you don’t want to." His voice was soft, and he moved closer to the edge of the tree, sitting down and letting his long legs dangle in the air. The last thing he wanted was for Y/n to think she was a nuisance.

The girl smiled slightly at his words, a bit of her earlier energy returning. Being near Neteyam was gratifying, and she loved it. She loved talking to him, feeling close to him in any way. With gentle steps, she moved to sit beside him, admiring the view.

"This is beautiful," Y/n said, her gaze fixed on the scenery—the setting sun casting its warm hues over Pandora.

Neteyam turned his eyes to her again, mesmerized by the golden light illuminating her face, enhancing her already stunning features.

"It really is," Neteyam replied calmly, though his gaze wasn’t on the scenery but on Y/n.

As soon as she looked at him, he quickly averted his eyes, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly.

"Is Jake being hard on you with training, Nete?" Y/n tried to start a conversation. "Is that why you were so upset?"

"A little..." Neteyam replied, avoiding her gaze. He wasn’t telling the full truth, but it wasn’t entirely a lie either. Jake always seemed to expect more and more from him. "I’m just a bit tired, that’s all."

"No days off, huh?" Y/n chuckled softly through her nose. "Jake just wants you to be perfect, Nete. You’re the leader’s son, Toruk Mak’to’s son. There are a lot of expectations for you to meet."

"And that doesn’t help me at all," the boy replied, eliciting laughter from the Omaticaya beside him. Neteyam allowed himself a small smile as he listened to her laugh, watching her face light up.

"The hunting ritual is coming up..." the girl pointed out, softly swinging her legs where they hung over the edge. "Maybe Jake will let you rest after that."

"I’m not so sure about that."

A comfortable silence settled between them. Y/n turned her gaze back to the breathtaking scenery, but Neteyam’s eyes stayed fixed on her, admiring her quietly. He loved moments like this—talking to Y/n, sitting in silence with Y/n. Everything about it felt natural. Like it was meant to be.

"You... you’ll have to make a big choice," Y/n began softly, her voice tinged with hesitation. She swallowed hard and took a deep breath.

Neteyam didn’t entirely understand her words but chose to remain quiet. Deep down, he knew he could listen to Y/n talk for hours—even if, perhaps, he didn’t fully grasp everything she said.

"Have you already chosen?" Y/n asked timidly, her eyes finally meeting his. Neteyam hadn’t taken his gaze off her.

"Chosen?" Neteyam echoed, a little confused, snapping out of the dreamy state her presence always seemed to put him in.

"I mean... your mate, of course," Y/n clarified, her voice quieter now, tinged with embarrassment.

The truth was, Y/n was scared of his answer. If Neteyam said yes, if he already had someone in mind to share his life with, it would crush any hope she had. But even so, she needed to know.

"Mate?" Neteyam repeated, slightly stunned. Her gaze bore into him, making him straighten his posture. He swallowed hard under her careful observation of his sharp, strong features. "No... I-I haven’t," he stammered, finally looking away. His ears twitched anxiously.

The truth was that Neteyam’s heart had already answered the question for him—loudly and undeniably. The moment Y/n mentioned "mate," his thoughts returned to the hunting ritual and the decision he would have to make afterward. And his mind landed firmly on Y/n.

Because it was her. It had always been her. Y/n was the one he wanted as his mate, the one he wanted to spend the rest of his life with, to share every moment with.

Neteyam grew nervous as he imagined Y/n waiting for him in their shared home, arms open, ready to embrace him, kiss him, and care for him just as he would care for her. And he would do it well—he was certain of that.

A small but happy smile flickered across Y/n’s lips upon hearing Neteyam’s response that he hadn’t chosen a mate yet.

“Have you… noticed any, um, approaches?” Y/n asked softly, her voice almost a purr, knowing this was her chance and determined not to let it slip away. Not when Neteyam stirred her heart in ways no one else could. Not when she longed to hear his voice or feel close to him.

Of course, just like Y/n, Neteyam was a target of attention. The difference, however, was that Omaticaya girls weren’t as aggressive in their advances toward him. Getting close to him without at least being friends with his siblings was no easy task. And even then, finding a moment to be near him during his rare free time was nearly impossible. Yet Y/n managed it every time.

If anyone hoped to be courted by Neteyam, they had to make their feelings and intentions clear due to his limited availability and the fact that he wasn’t exactly the most expressive Na’vi. Y/n had tried to make her interest obvious around him, but the boy didn’t seem to notice.

Eywa knows how many courting gifts Y/n had carefully declined, all the while hoping to receive one from a particular Na’vi—the eldest Sully. With the hunting ritual so close, perhaps it was finally time for her to be a bit more forward in showing her interest, though still delicately. She didn’t want Neteyam to think poorly of her—not that he could, even if he tried.

“No, I haven’t noticed,” Neteyam replied truthfully to her question. The fact was, he rarely paid attention to anything outside of his parents’ demands, Lo’ak’s troubles, his siblings’ safety, and, of course, every move Y/n made.

“Well… plenty of girls would love to be courted by you,” Y/n said sweetly, letting out a soft laugh as she leaned ever so slightly toward him, her tail moving lightly along the ground. Neteyam’s ears twitched at her words, his gaze drawn to her once more. His own tail began to shift, unconsciously seeking hers.

But then, the scene from earlier crept into his mind—a boy standing close to Y/n, talking to her, laughing as if there were no tomorrow, clearly thrilled to be near her. The memory made Neteyam’s brows knit slightly together, and he found himself looking away from her.

“Yeah. From what I’ve noticed, many are courting you,” Neteyam said, trying to manage the irritation bubbling up inside him. He’d almost forgotten it, but now it had resurfaced. A new thought struck him, making him feel both nervous and uneasy. “You… have you already chosen a mate?” he asked carefully, bringing his eyes back to her.

“No,” she answered simply.

“No? Why not? You…” He cleared his throat, fidgeting slightly. “You’re an incredible girl. I’ve seen what you do for everyone in the clan. You tend to the injured, help prepare for rituals, assist mothers with their children… you’ve even helped my mother.” Neteyam’s voice grew a little shaky, his ears flicking nervously, his tail moving restlessly behind him. He vividly remembered the day Lo’ak got himself into serious trouble, forcing him, Neytiri, and Jake to go and drag his brother back. In their absence, Y/n had kept Kiri and Tuk company, distracting them with her kindness and warmth.

Y/n smiled, realizing that Neteyam had noticed something about her. The boy steadied himself before speaking again.

“Why haven’t you chosen anyone?” Neteyam asked simply, his voice low, though his eyes stayed fixed on the girl beside him.

“I’m waiting…” Y/n began in the same tone, looking deeply at him. “…for someone to make me an offer.”

Neteyam averted his gaze, assuming Y/n was talking about a specific Omaticaya in the clan. His thoughts spiraled, imagining anyone but himself in her mind—something Y/n was trying to make obvious with her intent gaze and the subtle movements of her tail inching closer to his.

“Well…” Neteyam said, trying to swallow the frustration brewing inside him over whichever lucky Na’vi had managed to catch Y/n’s eyes and heart. Maybe he’d challenge him to a duel if he found out. “It shouldn’t take long,” he said simply, still not looking at her, his earlier sour mood returning.

“It could happen now,” Y/n suggested, tilting her head slightly, attempting to catch Neteyam’s gaze.

“Now?” Neteyam asked, looking around and confirming they were still alone. There wasn’t another Omaticaya in sight that he could aim his fists at.

“Yes, now,” Y/n replied, his attention now fully on her. She fluttered her eyelashes gracefully, hoping he would understand her meaning.

“How ‘now’? It’s just us here,” he muttered, confused, though his heart skipped a beat as he caught her beautiful lashes in motion, momentarily forgetting his impulse to pummel some imaginary rival.

Y/n sighed, realizing she needed to be more direct if she wanted him to understand what she meant.

“Nete…” She swallowed hard, steeling herself for what felt like an immense challenge. She placed her hand gently over his, watching his eyes slowly widen as his ears perked up in surprise. “…I see you,” Y/n confessed intensely, her breath quickening as her heart raced uncontrollably.

Neteyam, on the other hand, was frozen in place. His wide eyes and dilated pupils were locked on the girl in front of him, his body entirely still as he processed her words.

“It’s true that I was waiting for something from you,” the girl began, embarrassed, avoiding his gaze. “But... you don’t have to feel pressured by me. I know you’ll have other great options for a mate.” She let out a small, almost bitter laugh.

The Omaticaya boy snapped out of his stupor, blinking several times in quick succession, his pupils dilating greatly, his heart racing faster than ever before. As soon as Y/n pulled her hand from his, Neteyam quickly but gently grasped it, not wanting to startle her.

“Y/n,” the boy called softly, still surprised by her words. She wanted to be courted by him.

Even though Neteyam was consumed with happiness, staring at her intensely, the words were stuck in his throat. He wanted to say “I see you” like he had imagined so many times, but with his heart pounding and his shock overwhelming him, he could only open his lips several times, struggling to find the right words.

Y/n looked at him shyly, waiting for him to say something, while the boy still held her hand gently, preventing her from going anywhere. He traced her soft skin with his thumb, his gaze still locked on her, hoping she would understand him without words, because he certainly would stutter if he started to confess.

The girl looked down at their hands joined softly, gripping Neteyam’s hand firmly, but soon she lifted her gaze back to him, watching him swallow hard.

“Do you feel the same?” Y/n asked quietly, leaning in slightly, and the only thing Neteyam could do was nod—quickly, almost too fast, which made her smile even wider.

Even with his heart practically on fire, the boy swallowed hard and tightened his grip on the young woman beside him.

“Y/n, I see you,” Neteyam said as if making a promise, though it was whispered, it was intense. It was clear that his chest was rising and falling quickly, with a brief flush of purple creeping up his face, his ears, slowly descending to his neck.

Y/n smiled wider, the same color beginning to tint her cheeks. With her beautiful smile, Neteyam returned a smaller one, still immersed in emotions. His skin was showing his anxiety and mild embarrassment, and his palm was starting to grow warmer than usual.

The boy pulled back slightly from the girl, still looking at her, her eyes locked on him with curiosity. Neteyam began to undo one of his bracelets, tightly fastened to his forearm, and once the accessory was removed, he looked at Y/n with expectation.

The girl let out a happy sound, lifting her left forearm to Neteyam, who, with slightly trembling fingers, began to fasten the bracelet onto her. Now, anyone who saw Y/n wearing the accessory would immediately know that she was promised to Neteyam, as the Omaticaya wore the matching pair on his right forearm.

"In the hunting ritual..." Neteyam began softly as he adjusted the bracelet on Y/n. "I will bring the largest animal I find for the clan. And after that, I will come to you and ask if you would choose me as your mate in front of everyone." He continued, his voice still quiet, a little embarrassed but happy, watching the bracelet settle perfectly on the girl. "This is my first courting gift. But please, don't worry, I will give you more gifts so you can adorn yourself with them until the ritual. And also, after it." The boy smiled at her, making the girl laugh too, filled with happiness.

"And I will make your adornments," Y/n replied, thinking of the accessories she had already made for Neteyam, but never had the courage to gift him. However, from now on, she saw no problem in doing so.

The Omaticaya boy smiled at her, gently bringing their foreheads together, and she responded without hesitation, closing her eyes in delight and happiness. Neteyam turned his gaze back to the landscape in front of them, feeling Y/n settle close to his body, resting her head between his neck and shoulder. He accepted her presence gladly, holding her close as they both silently admired the beautiful, dusk-lit landscape of Pandora, content in their mutual affection.

With Neteyam holding the girl firmly and gently beside him, his tail swayed slightly, finding hers, and they wasted no time in intertwining them, causing both to share small, happy laughs. And behind the couple, Atokirinas—the seeds of the Tree of Life—floated softly, undisturbed, as the young pair embraced in front of Pandora's giant moon.