#neteyam sully fluff

[fleurriee]

— the one ; neteyam sully

pairing ; neteyam sully x fem!reader

synopsis ; neteyam was beginning to court you, much to your elation. each time he showed you how much you meant to him, you only fell more in love with him.

word count ; 10.3k (we don’t talk about it)

themes ; fluff, soon-to-be mates

warnings ; tooth-rotting fluff, vv brief mentions of worrying over someone’s well-being, uses of y/n.

author’s note ; i can’t tell if this got slightly worse as it neared the end but we’re just gonna leave it bc i do like it. i mean, who doesn’t like the idea of neteyam courting them??? also, this is my longest fic yet & it wasn’t supposed to be anywhere near this long but i just got carried away bc i love neteyam so much. sue me. 

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For a short while now, yourself and Neteyam were in the courting process of your relationship.

It wasn’t too long ago when the male Na’vi asked your permission to do so, along with your parents’, and the thought always caused butterflies to roam in your stomach, no matter how much time passed in between. Neteyam was the perfect Na’vi - a mighty warrior, a caring gentleman, someone who knew how to properly lead, something that would one day aid him when he took over as Olo’eyktan. 

So, in short, you simply couldn’t believe your luck when he asked you.

You could argue that you saw it coming with the way he always sought you out in a crowd, the gentle smiles he sent in your direction, but you’d be lying to yourself. Having Neteyam te Suli Tsyeyk’itan choose you to be his mate was something you never would have imagined possible in your wildest dreams. Of course, it was something you did imagine - you were pretty sure every other Na’vi your age did, too - but to have it play out in front of your very eyes was a whole different experience.

His family were welcoming, too, letting you safe in their warm embrace and treating you like one of their own - because you would be, someday soon. Neteyam’s family and your own got on well which was a huge relief to the both of you, making his progress just slightly easier. 

His aforementioned progress in courting you was something that caused a blush to rise on your cheeks, filling you to the brim with elation. Each time you saw him, you were sure you were close to combusting; each time he spoke, you were sure your heart was close to melting. Everything about Neteyam was godly, otherworldly... how in Ewya had you managed to get him to choose you as a mate?

You were forced out of your jumbled, overthinking thoughts when Tuk let out a loud gasp. The young girl was situated in front of you, comfortably placed on top of your crossed legs, twiddling away at the carved wooden toys her eldest brother had gifted her a while ago. She had come to you earlier, asking you to braid her hair with some of the beads she had recently collected with her sister, Kiri. Of course, you couldn’t say no to her - you were sure Tuk could ask anything of you, no matter the circumstance, and you’d still say yes. It was those big eyes looking up at you, all pure and innocent of the dangers surrounding them with the war brewing nearby. You’d do anything to shield her away from that.

When Tuk gasped, for a split second, you thought you’d hurt her. Your eyes were frantic as you looked over her figure, but then another sound pierced through the atmosphere - a horn. Following Tuk’s line of sight, that’s when you spotted the group of ikran’s beginning to descend back into camp, chants from the warriors filling the air with their victory. 

That meant Neteyam was back, too.

Lightly brushing back Tuk’s hair, the braids practically finished, you patted her back to ensure her she was okay to run over to her returning family. She doesn’t even pay you any mind and you laugh at her reaction, watching as she screams out in exclamation, her feet rushing over to where you watch her parents descend. 

Standing up from the ground, you jump down from where you were seated, landing softly and jogging over, following after Tuk. The idea of seeing Neteyam again - even though it hadn’t been that long since you last saw one another - had you full to the brim with excitement. He was your future mate - it was practically your job to feel like this at the prospect of seeing him, even if you had only been away for a short period of time.

But, when your eyes finally land on who you were looking for, the smile drops from your face and replaces itself with worried features. Just a couple of steps away, you watch as Jake stands in front of his two sons, his back clearly showing off his agitation. You don’t hear what they’re saying, but you can tell it’s nothing good - both Neteyam and Lo’ak have their heads hung low, ashamed at the obvious lecture they were receiving from their father.

At the sight, you can’t help the way your heart aches for the two boys. Since Neteyam had started to court you, you had spent a lot of time with his family, meaning you got to know each of them pretty well, including Lo’ak. You got on with him great, despite your stark differences in personality, but you could tell everything he did was just to live up to the shadow of both his father and older brother. He just wanted to be like them.

And, Neteyam - he was always the protector, whether it was for his parents, his siblings, for you. If Lo’ak had done something reckless and dangerous, you knew Neteyam wouldn’t have been too far behind him, watching his every move and ensuring his younger brother’s safety. It was both a strength and a weakness of his.

Your eyes scrape over your future mate, checking every inch of his body until you spot a cut at his side that he’s trying to hide from everyone else’s view. It’s clear no one else has spotted it, or else you were sure they would’ve sent him straight to a healer to get it treated. Thankfully, the wound didn’t look too bad, but you could tell it was hurting him - from the signs of him fidgeting from foot to foot, keeping his hand pressed firmly against his side in a weak attempt to dull the pain, his eyes frantically searching about the place to find an opening of escape.

You know him too well.

That’s when your eyes meet, and if it wasn’t for the worry currently eating away at your very being, it would’ve felt as though the whole of Pandora stopped around you, just the two of you in a world of your own. That’s how it always felt around Neteyam, and knowing you had more of this to look forward to for the rest of your lives was enchanting.

In a bid to reassure your future mate, you send him over a soft smile, one full of care and admittance. A small nod of your head accompanied it, too, ensuring him that you would be there for him when he was finished with his father. You understand the weight bearing down upon his shoulders after the several times he would open himself up to you, and you’d be damned if you let him drown. No matter the circumstance, no matter the cost, you’d make it your life’s mission to pull him out when he started to struggle.

A tense smile in return is your only response, another subtle nod of his head with it, too, but you can see the way his body moves stiffly, as if afraid of more reprimand, as if hurting. His eyes held all the love and adoration he had for you like they always did, and seeing such a sight made you feel a little calmer about the situation.

Neither yourself nor Neteyam were conspicuous in your looks towards one another, it seemed, for Jake immediately noticed the way his eldest son’s attention was snagged somewhere else. He watched as Neteyam’s ears twitched a little, tail perking up from its once ashamed downturn, a smidge of light coming back to his eyes. It was obvious what the cause of such a demeanour was, and when he turned his head to look behind himself and found you, standing your weight from one foot to the another, fingers mindlessly playing together in a bid to calm your nerves and tail swishing in anticipation, he was proved correct. 

He sighed deeply, turning back around and talking to Neteyam, words being shared that you couldn’t hear, but as he gestured over to you, you stood straighter as you realised he was dismissing his son. The young Na’vi in question doesn’t move quickly, something you can decipher from his wounded side he continued to clutch away from any possible prying eyes, but he does move eagerly, wanting to get over to you as soon as he can.

Not even ten steps between the two of you, and your feet are moving of their own accord, hurrying closer to his figure. You reach your arms out to him, hands grasping against his arms with care to help steer him in the direction of a healing tent. Your eyes wonder seamlessly back down to his wound, looking over every inch of it to ensure it’s not entirely life-threatening. In conclusion that it isn’t, a small breath of relief escapes your lips, shaking your head - still, it looks painful.

Looking back up at him, your eyes filter from one of his to the other in a bid to garner his full attention whilst the two of you continue walking. “Are you okay?” you question, your voice coming out breathy. 

“It is fine.” His words are short and sharp, and if it wasn’t for the piercing wound aching at his side, you’d assume he was mad at you. But, that obviously wasn’t the case - Neteyam rarely got angry, and if he did, he swore it’d never be at you.

You scoff before you can decipher your own response, eyes trailing back down. “It doesn’t look fine.” When he doesn’t say anything in return, you look back up at him, finding his gaze already trained on you, a small, graceful smile painting at his lips. It makes your heart flutter, knowing that such a rare beauty is entirely for you. Trying to bite back the reciprocating smile desperate to show itself, you shake your head at your future mate and his antics, wanting to stay annoyed at him for once again throwing himself in harm’s way for the sake of others. But, when he looks at you like that, you find it difficult to do anything.

The healing tent you had intended to take him into finally appeared in front of you, sounds of chatter and winces coming through to your ears from inside. You weren’t a fan of such places due to the pain and misery it brought the people of your clan, but as the mate of the future Olo’eyktan, you knew you’d eventually have to suck it up and put on a brave face for those around you. You’d be spending more time in there than you’d like to admit.

Bringing your arm up and leaving the other one clasped tightly around Neteyam’s bicep, you go move the tent flap away, but another beats you to it. Despite the obvious pain he’s in, Neteyam reaches out, opening the entrance up for you and gestures you in. You stop in your tracks, looking over at him pointedly, but he doesn’t acknowledge the way your eyes reprimand him - even when in agony, he’s still adamant to be a good future mate in courtship.

You sigh, almost a little agitated that he still felt the need to prove himself to you, even when your heart beats rapidly in your chest at such a domestic gesture, the determination of Neteyam Sully peaking through his pained actions. As you step inside, you feel him grab a hold of your hand from behind you, his warm and callous skin juxtaposing against one another, but have you shivering in affection all the same. He allows you to guide him through the tent, weaving around those moving hurriedly to others sitting and waiting for their treatment, before you finally find a somewhat-secluded area towards the back.

With his hand still firmly in your grip, you turn to him, moving your other one around his bicep again and begin helping the both of you steadily to the ground, each of you guiding the other with delicacy. You didn’t want Neteyam to be in more pain than he already was, and Neteyam always treated you like you were fragile glass - something that didn’t bother you, although you have had others say it would bother them, but you paid no mind to them.

Once the two of you were as comfortable as you could be in a tent crowded with other injured people, sat cross-legged and facing one another, you gently pried his hand that had continued to cover the wound in his side. You were slow with your movements, sending him a look of reassurance that you would be tender. He winced slightly when the cool breeze smacked so suddenly against the now-rough skin, his head hanging low and shaking from side to side to tell himself that the pain was nothing. Neteyam never did like to come across as weak - especially in front of you.

You can’t help the way your eyes narrow up at him, a frown on your lips. “I wish you were more careful...” your voice is barely a whisper, not wanting anyone else to hear in on your conversation. With thoughtful touches, you begin to clean away at the wound, wanting to make sure the blood is washed away and nothing made its way in that could make it worse. 

“I am always careful.” There’s another wince, another strain when he speaks, the sensation of your fingers against his skin both sending delightful shivers down his spine and causing his tail to stand on end from the pain.

Stopping in your movement, you sit up in front of him, watching as he slowly lifts his head once he realises you’ve paused. “This,” you say, pointing directly to his wound, “says otherwise.”

Neteyam doesn’t say anything as you immediately go back to your previous work of cleaning him, knowing that whatever he says will only be argued with a firm answer you no doubt have ready to fire at him. He understands you, though, because if the situation was switched and you were in his position, he knows his head wouldn’t be in the right frame of mind, either. Neteyam would be imagining different scenarios where you’d ended up worse, more injured, or even... If he didn’t like to think about it, he couldn’t imagine the feeling of going through it, and you did, every time he went out with the war party. You didn’t know what condition he was going to be coming back to you in... you didn’t know if he was going to be coming back.

Neteyam understood.

So, rather than biting back, the Na’vi instead smiled down at your working figure, pure love shining bright in his eyes as he watched your concentration prevail through your hurried movements, your gentle fingers, your narrowed eyes. Everything about you was so beautiful to Neteyam, even when you were surrounded in a crowded room by others who didn’t deserve to witness such a sight. He couldn’t believe his luck of getting to call you his own.

While you work, moving one of your hands back in the direction of his wound, you feel it get snatched away. You look up at Neteyam, about to tell him off for not letting you work, when you watch him place a firm, tender kiss against your knuckles, his eyes never once leaving your own. 

You can feel yourself blush profusely at his actions, tilting your head to the side subconsciously as he only smirks at your reaction - he always knew the best ways to get you right in the palm of his hands. Instead of previously wanting to reprimand him, your words are but a murmur when you speak, eyes continuously flickering from his eyes to somewhere behind him in order to distract yourself. “I’m trying to concentrate, ‘teyam.”

His heart is full, ready to burst, when he hears your nickname for him, something he loves from only a select few people, with you being right at the top. Keeping your hand in his own, his thumb beginning to run smoothly where he kissed you against your knuckles, he chuckles at your attempt to stay focused. “I know,” he nods lightly, eyes bright and fangs pointed in bliss. “That’s why I kissed you - you look adorable when you concentrate.” 

As soon as the words left his lips, your head sharply snapped back over to him, irises blown wide, ears high upon your head and tail curling in on itself from the compliment. No matter how many times he’d talk to you in such a way, or did certain things that made you feel all mushy inside, it’d always gain the same reaction from you. And, he loved it. 

You plaster on a playfully annoyed expression, trying to fight the smile dancing at your lips. Chuckling, you shake your head. “Do you want me to help you, or not?”

He laughs, breathless, tongue flicking out and running along his fangs as his eyes make a point of looking over every inch of your figure. It makes you cower in on yourself, and this time, you allow your lips to curve at the edges. Neteyam doesn’t say anything in return, just shrugs mindlessly like he hadn’t been internally torturing you beforehand, letting you get back on with healing your future mate. 

Not once does he move his gaze away from such a beautiful sight.

Your hands moved in a hurried motion, eagerness and anticipation beginning to eat away at you. You moved from one side of your tent to the other, the empty space allowing you to rush around without having to worry about bumping into or getting on your parent’s nerves. The both of them would be out all day - your mother spending the day with the younger Na’vi in your clan, and your father helping out with training the soon-to-be warriors. 

With the day ahead seeming so empty, you had decided to take it upon yourself to go out into the vast forests of Pandora and collect some fruit for your family. Foraging was something you always enjoyed, ever since your mother took you out for the first time. There was something about just carelessly exploring the lush greenery whilst stumbling upon something new - it brought you happiness and peacefulness. 

Of course, you couldn’t go out there unprotected, making sure to stop by your mat where you kept your bow and arrows and tying them around yourself. Going out into the forest alone wasn’t uncommon, but it was something the clan didn’t like to do often. However, you did - just for the tranquillity of being alone for a little while when you were constantly surrounded by the hustle and bustle of so many people at once. You knew there was always going to be a chance of you running into something dangerous whilst you were out there, so, to calm the nerves of your friends and family after finding out about your little lonesome adventures, you assured them you’d always take a weapon with you.

Sighing, you stood tall, looking around your tent then to your body, making sure you were definitely prepared before setting off for the day. You looped your mother’s empty basket through one arm, hoping to be full to the brim with an array of fruits by the time you returned in a few hours, your bow was tucked over your neck and hanging against your shoulders, and your arrows were placed firmly upon your back, ready for their use. You just hoped you wouldn’t have to resort to using them.

With a nod of your head, you turn around, beginning to walk out the entrance of your tent. You kept your eyes trained to the floor, hanging your head low so as not to bump it against anything and have an embarrassing story to talk about later on, when you ended up bumping your entire body into something anyway.

You gasped in surprise at the sudden sensation, the solid material in front of you hitting against you fairly harshly. Stumbling on your feet, you were sure you would’ve fallen down like a sack, but your saving grace came in the form of two hands, gentle yet rough in texture, catching onto your upper arms, wrapping their fingers against your biceps. 

Looking up, you spotted Neteyam. The morning sun hit against his back, painting him in an ethereal glow, and you swore you had never seen anything so glorious in all your life on Pandora. He had a cheeky smile on his lips, eyes roving over your features, his hands still holding tightly onto you - he knew you were steady on your feet now, but he simply didn’t want to let you go.

When you made eye contact with Neteyam, you were so entranced, you couldn’t look away. The way his eyes caught against the light began to suck you in until you were his entirely, no one and nothing else mattered in the world because Neteyam was right here, looking at you. The close proximity between the two of you made the heat rise against your cheeks, painting you in a darker blue, but your eyes never strayed from his. How could you, when he looked like this? You could feel his breath fan against your face, the feeling sending shivers to your skin.

“Hi,” he said, voice low and teasing, that stupid smile never once leaving his lips as he looked down at you like you were some sort of prey and he the predator. 

“Hi,” you whispered, voice sultry and soft, struggling to find the correct words to say to him due to your stuttering heart and how close you were, feeling every slight move he made against your own body. “What are you doing here?” You were happy to see him, but confused by his presence - you knew he had training with his father early that morning (part of the reason why you decided to go out), and if he was here with you now, you were sure he was going to end up being late, something Neteyam did once in a blue moon. 

He shrugged carelessly, like he didn’t have a care in the world. “I wanted to say good morning.”

You look up at him expectantly, waiting, but when he only continued to look at you adoringly, you narrow your eyes in confusion. “Are you going to say it...?” Your words are still a whisper, but this time, there’s a teasing lilt to them as you watch his smile grow wider when he realises his mistake.

Neteyam began to laugh at your sudden cheekiness, something you didn’t do often but he absolutely cherished, silently wishing to himself that you did it more. Maybe he’d just have to do things like this a little more. “Good morning, yawne (beloved).” As he spoke, he leant down towards you, giving your cheek a feather-light kiss, you had to run the sensation over in your mind again. When he pulled back, you couldn’t hold his eye contact, too flustered to look up at him, knowing that if you did, your cheeks would only continue to darken from their original colour. Neteyam found it endearing, smile so bright his fangs were pointing out, before eventually spotting your attire. “Going hunting?”

“Foraging,” you corrected him, lifting the basket higher on your arms to accentuate your point. Your heart finally finds the confidence to look up into his intense gaze, swelling with both care and devotion. “I need to get some more fruits.”

At your admittance, Neteyam’s entire demeanour lights up at an opportunity beginning to present itself right in front of his very eyes - his ears stand high upon his head, eyes shining and tail elevated, anticipation peeking through his system. “I can get them for you if you want.”

You swoon at his eagerness to help you, the domestic part of Neteyam showing itself off to you. If it were any other time, you would’ve gladly took him up on the offer, loving the idea of spending more time with him despite truly believing your heart would explode if he continued to look at you like you were Ewya herself. But, you knew Neteyam was important to your clan, even before he was to become Olo’eyktan - you couldn’t keep him from his duties, from his purpose. 

(Neteyam would strongly argue that you were his purpose.)

“‘Teyam,” you start gently, hate having to turn him down when his features slowly start to fall. A sympathetic smile lingers against your lips, head tilted to the side but your eyes spoke more than your words could convey. “You have training with your father...” you find your eyes trailing your surroundings at your reminder, instantly spotting Jake in the near distance behind your future mate. He stands tall, proud, but you can tell he’s only moments away from calling his son out as he eyes him up, impatient. “...who is right over there and definitely does not want you to be late.” 

In an instant, Neteyam’s head shoots around to follow your gaze, a grumble slipping past his parted lips when he spots his father. Like a child, he hangs his head low in defeat, allowing it to fall against your shoulder when he turns back around. He lets his weight bear down on you teasingly, chuckling through his chest at your struggled attempts to stay steady on your feet. 

You pat his chest in mock sympathy, giggling to yourself as he only continues to be his dramatic self, head nestling closer into the space between your shoulder and neck. But, when he begins to press kisses against your skin, you tense up, feeling your spine straighten out and eyes look around for anyone watching. 

His father continues to glower at his eldest son, hands on his hips and shaking his head, obviously disgruntled. “Neteyam,” you warn, patting his chest again, a little harsher this time, more so in warning. Neteyam doesn’t seem to care, however, only continuing on his journey as he travels his lips from your shoulder to the crevasse of your neck. “’Teyam, your father-”

“Neteyam!” Jake’s voice is loud and clear, piercing through the clan until it makes its way to the two of you. In an instant, Neteyam jumps up and detaches himself from your shoulder. You look over his broad shoulder, seeing his father beginning to storm his way over. A harsh, fast-paced kiss is placed roughly against the side of your face, before you watch Neteyam run sheepishly over to his father, not wanting him to make a big scene. When your future mate arrives at his father’s side, the older Na’vi grabs his son against the back of the neck, forcefully pulling him further away from you before the guides of Ewya could will him back to you.

You can’t help but chuckle at their antics - the more time you spent with the Sully family, the more excited you felt at the prospect of finally being a part of them. Of course, they’d argue that you were already an honorary Sully, just from being betrothed to one of them, but you knew it’d be entirely different when you finally mated with Neteyam. 

Shaking your head, you noticed a few stares sent your way from the scene Neteyam had previously created before leaving you to deal with it. The only response you could give them without wanting the ground to swallow you whole was a sheepish smile, before securing your basket tight against your chest and running off into the forest.

The rest of the day went by quicker than you had imagined - you were simply so emerged in the beauty of the forest around you that time seemed infinite, like it was laying in the palm of your hands for you to do whatever you pleased with it. And, you did - you spent majority of your time marvelling at the pure life around you, the way everything seemed to pulse like it had its own heartbeat, and you liked to imagine that it did. After all, this was all apart of Ewya, too.

You had managed to collect a good amount of fruits, filling your basket almost to the top with a variety of tastes and colours to show off to your parents. Walking back into the clan, your chest swelled with pride at the few gratifying looks you were receiving from your collection, but you were also feeling proud of yourself for not having to use your weapon, either. Whether it was just your good intuition, or Ewya herself guiding you in a direction to ensure your safety, you steered clear of any potential threats that could’ve been lurking around the corner, waiting for the perfect moment to pounce. Either way, you were grateful you never ran into anything.

Arguably, you were a good hunter, someone who could hold their own if they needed to, but you weren’t entirely confident in your skills enough to fight off something bigger than you if its intentions were to kill you. You’d never had to fight against such a creature, thanks to adventuring out with others that knew what they were doing, or going to specific places you knew would be okay for you. Plus, there was something about killing the creatures of Pandora that didn’t sit right with you - after all, they were also children of Ewya. Of course, you understood the clan had to eat in order to survive, and if you were being attacked, no Na’vi would judge another if they needed to defend themselves or their family. That’s why you were always the one to volunteer to collect the fruits out of your family, enjoying that particular experience more. It also helped that you received offer’s from Neteyam’s family - and Neteyam, especially - to share the meat they had hunted. You could turn down the meats his family offered you, arguing that it was for them, but you couldn’t disagree with Neteyam - what’s mine is yours.

Nodding to another Na’vi who had done the same to you in a small gesture of congratulations, your cheeks hurting from the prideful smile against your lips, you hadn’t spotted the figure rushing to jog over to your moving figure until they stop at your side. You already know it’s Neteyam - not from the sight of him, but from the presence of him. His scent infiltrates your scenes immediately and his aura oozes itself around you, enshrouding you in a protective layer. 

How your knees haven’t buckled out from swooning will always be beyond you.

No words are able to leave your mouth before Neteyam takes the basket from your hands, relieving your lower back from the pressure it was previously feeling with the weight of the fruits. He holds it firmly in his grasp, matching your pace as he walks beside you, taking note of the amount you collected before his gaze lands on you. “How was it?” 

You don’t bother arguing against his wishes of holding the basket for you, knowing it would only be a losing battle if you tried. Instead, you allowed your heart to flutter wildly in your chest as it begged for release, wanting to cover Neteyam in all the love it had to offer. Your head tilts in affection as your features coo. “It was good - I managed to get quite a bit.”

He hums in acknowledgement, eyes hurriedly scanning over your figure from top to bottom. His gaze makes you feel warm, but you know he’s checking you over for any potential injuries. “You didn’t run into any trouble?”

“Nope,” you state proudly, beaming like a child would with a new accomplishment. “I’m too good at sneaking.”

A laugh tumbles from his stomach at your answer, embellishing in the way you proudly stand and tell him of your day’s achievements. This is what he’s always wanted - the two of you, talking about your day and everything in between, before finally coming back together to rest for the night. 

All he’s ever wanted was you.

With only one of his hands now holding onto your full basket, he brings his other up to grab hold of your arm, stopping you in your tracks. When you turn to face him, your smile slowly begins to fall from your lips at the seriousness in his gaze. Only when he cups your face in his larger palm do you soften, features lighting up once more. “You did well, my muntxa (mate).”

The nickname makes you bite your lips to stop you giving away your true feelings, but you know Neteyam, and you know he knows you inside and out, like you were his other half - because you were. Snuggling your face further into his palm, you stand higher on your toes, wanting to bring him closer despite the rapid beating of your heart. “Not yet...” you remind him.

He hums in acknowledgement, but doesn’t say anything more. Rather, he presses a light kiss against your forehead, his lips lingering there for a while longer, like he didn’t want to part from you in such an intimate way. As he stays there, his lips ghosting over your skin, he whispers an almost-inaudible soon. The implication makes you shudder in delight, feeling him separate away from you, now intertwining his hand in your own and gesturing his head for you to follow him. 

Soon.

Tonight was a normal night within the clan, although it somehow seemed more alive.

Every night, the people of the Omatikaya would come together to celebrate the day’s achievements, even if nothing too celebratory had happened. It brought a semblance of togetherness that you couldn’t get anywhere else - one you wouldn’t trade for the world. 

You could hear the hustle and bustle of many Na’vi even from the tent furthest away from the main area, your body filling with brimming excitement already at the prospect of everyone being there. You weren’t a huge fan of crowds, but growing older had taught you to appreciate such a feeling - these people were your family, after all, and with such an impending war knocking upon your doorstep too often than you were comfortable with, you learned to enjoy what you have already, before it was too late.

Training with the Tsahik had increased tenfold in the last couple of months - you were working from sunrise until sunset alongside Mo’at and Kiri, aiding them in their tasks and ensuring you were close to knowing everything off by heart. Eventually, you would be taking over, with Neteyam at your side as Olo’eyktan. It wasn’t long until the two of you would finally be mated before Ewya, and whilst it would still be a while until you stepped forward as leaders, there would always be more preparing to do. As a mated pair, the clan would slowly start looking to the two of you.

With such a pressure lingering upon your shoulders, you began to make your way through the main crowd, leaving behind your duties in their wake and allowing yourself a moment to breathe. There were Na’vi everywhere, no matter what direction your gaze trailed to; smiles adorning each face, tails high in elation and chatter loud in excitement. There was a large woven table to the side that held the hunting party’s food they had caught during that morning’s hunt, piles high of fruits and meats that had your stomach growling in anticipation. You hadn’t had time to eat much when training, your mind too focused on remembering every little detail shown before you.

But, you couldn’t help your own smile beginning to dawn upon your lips as you attempted to make your way past people at the sight of their happiness. For a moment, it almost felt like there wasn’t a raging war so close to home, ready to kill you all just to say they had won. 

You shook your head at such a thought, willing it away from your head and forcing yourself to enjoy the moment before you. There were several people you accidentally bumped into on the way past, your mind foggy as it searched for someone, but no one was too bothered, too caught up in the blissful atmosphere lingering within the air. 

Eyes trailing over every figure you came across, you struggled to spot a single Sully. You stepped higher onto the ends of your toes, head poking out over the tops of other’s heads in an attempt to locate them, but you kept coming up short. It was obvious they would be here, of course - they were the Sully family, the leaders of your clan, and if they didn’t make an appearance at just a regular gathering such at this one, you knew they’d be more panic around you.

Thankfully, before you could be swallowed by the crowd and lost to the world around you, a hand clasped itself securely within your own, fingers intertwining together. The feeling of his hand against yours caused your brain waves to kilter off edge, the rough but warm sensation of his palm meeting your own so similar to home. 

When you look up at him, Neteyam’s happiness is evident upon his features, grin broad and so unbelievably handsome-looking. Before you can get too caught up in him, him, him, he nods his head in the direction behind him, where you guess his family had set themselves up. He doesn’t take his hand away from your own, keeping a strong grip against you to ensure he doesn’t lose you, leading you through the crowd until you come up to his family.

They’re all already seated comfortably together, Lo’ak, Kiri and Tuk already eating away to their heart’s desires whilst Jake prepares the food for himself and his mate. Upon seeing your breathless figure, they greet you with smiles and nods in your direction, never surprised to see you with Neteyam anymore as they used to be. The bond between the two of you was only growing stronger as the days tilted by, the time dwindling down before you were mated and you truly became a Sully. His family were your family.

Neteyam’s arm is almost forcefully ripped away from your own when a much smaller body crashes into you. Tuk, in all her pure and giddy glory, has her arms wrapped strongly around the tops of your legs, her height not allowing her to go any higher. Her chin rests against your legs, looking up at you with her deer-like eyes and the biggest smile you have ever seen. The sight has you melting. 

“Hi, Tuk,” you greet her softly, bringing your hand up to gently caress the top of her head. She giggles at the sensation, lightly hopping up and down on her feet. Whilst you were definitely close with Neteyam’s family - more so Kiri, than anyone else, due to the amount of time you spend together - Tuk would always be your favourite. You looked to her like she was your little sister, and you hoped that one day she’d look at you like her older one. The idea of having someone as adorable as Tuk look up to you, feeling comfortable enough to come to you should she ever need to, was heart-warming. 

“Tuk!” Neytiri called, her tone harsh but understanding as she beckoned her youngest child back over to her, watching her bound away from you and back into her mother’s arms.  

You laugh quietly to yourself at the sight, finally making your way to the free seat next to Neteyam. When your comfortable enough, you go to reach over for the contents already splayed out before you, but a soft slap against the back of your hand has you recoiling away. Next to you, Neteyam reaches for everything you’d need, already beginning to do it for you.

He doesn’t look at you, although you know he can feel your gaze zoning in on his every movement - he’s too busy concentrating on making sure everything’s perfect for you, even if you are going to devour it just moments after receiving it. Your heart flutters like a swarming butterfly and you’re positive your cheeks are starting to redden as they blush. You don’t say anything to him, knowing it’s an argument you won’t be able to win - instead, you continue to watch with hearts evident within your eyes, a faint, loving smile present on your lips.  

It’s then you remember you’re not completely alone, too caught up in Neteyam. When you look up at the family surrounding you, you instantly spot his parents’ gazes already trained on the two of you - Neytiri’s expression is fond, whilst Jake’s is most definitely teasing.

Whether he can begin to sense your slight unease at being caught, you’re not sure, but Jake decides to speak up, hands moving subconsciously as he now starts to prepare his own food after giving the finished one to his mate. “So, y/n,” he starts, “how is Tsahik training going?”

You briefly look back over to Neteyam next to you, biting back a smile as you allow him to continue his work - his eyes are narrowed in on making everything flawless, making sure it’s exactly how you’d like it. Turning back to Jake, you offer him a nod, breathing out. “It is good - there are a few things I’m still struggling with, but the Tsahik believes I just need to continue with my training before I am able to do it with my eyes closed.”

Shrugging at the end of your admittance, you let out a sheepish laugh, almost a little embarrassed. Tsahik training is hard - no one ever said it was going to be easy, especially when you would be guiding the clan spiritually through Ewya, helping them heal and celebrate important ceremonies. But, you know you don’t have anything to be embarrassed by for several reasons - Neytiri understands from her brief time of training alongside her mother before mating with Jake, but this is also Neteyam’s family, your family, who have never once stopped to judge you for a single thing. In fact, you’re sure they’ve only ever supported you through the things you do, because now you’re as much they’re daughter as Kiri and Tuk.

“You will be an amazing Tsahik, y/n.” Neytiri speaks up, clearly noticing your hidden embarrassment and wanting to ease your worries. Tuk is still in her lap, happily chomping away at her food as her mother braids her hair. Her smile is doting, motherly. “The clan already loves you.”

The compliment from your mother-in-law only causes more embarrassment to flood through you, feeling yourself slowly begin to curl in on yourself. The love you were receiving not only from the family, but also from the rest of the clan, helped ease your tensions, but you never really took to taking such praise well. You appreciated it like any other Na’vi did, but sometimes you struggled to show a natural reaction, becoming slightly uncomfortable. That was something you would have to work on - the Tsahik couldn’t be embarrassed.

Your tail had previously nestled itself against your side when Neytiri complimented you, shying away from the attention, but it began to perk up suddenly when Neteyam lay a kind hand against your shoulder. His thumb was absentmindedly rubbing soothing circles against your skin - you didn’t know whether it was in his natural persona to do so, subconscious taking over, or whether he took notice of your change in demeanour, but either way, it calmed you. 

Looking at his other hand, you can see your prepared food, wrapped neatly together and gesturing for you to take it. With a grateful smile sent his way, you do so, speaking softly. “Thank you, ‘teyam.”

His grin is wide as he looks down at you. “You do not need to thank me, narlor (beautiful).” Heat passes over your cheeks when he calls you beautiful, the sincerity behind his eyes showing you how much he means it. You try your best to focus on your food when his attention doesn’t waver away from you, the warmth of his gaze piercing into your skin and making your entire being feel all tingly. Despite taking note of your attempt to shutter yourself away from him, taking a bite of the food and savouring every mouth-watering flavour it has to offer you, Neteyam is relentless - the same hand that was formerly rubbing against the top of your shoulder now snakes around the back of your neck, bringing you further into his side and pressing a tender kiss against the side of your temple. His lips linger hotly against your skin when he pulls away. “I would hunt down the most ravishing creatures and prepare the most delicious meals just for you, muntxate (wife).”

For a moment, you know nothing else but him - the way his eyes bore into yours completely, unseeing of anything else going on around you; the way his breaths steady with each one, like you bring a sense of calmness to his very being; the way his hand doesn’t move from its place against you, like doing so would cause him extreme pain. You’re sure you can feel your heart soar to the sky when he calls you his muntxate (wife), never wanting to hear him call you anything else ever again. You’ve been down the road before - Neteyam has been calling you his mate boldly as of late - but hearing him call you his wife, such domesticity has you feeling completely brand new, like you could conquer the world, face the most dangerous beast and win, just to come home and see him smiling at you like you hung the stars in the night sky. 

You’re scared it’s obvious that your tears are beginning to show against the line of your eyes, a nervous but oh-so adoring chuckle escaping your parted lips. Neteyam brings you foreheads together, the heat of his skin sending waves of the temperature into your own, his hand still clasped firmly against the back of your neck, and you notice his eyes never once falter from their stare into your own. There’s so much love, so much devotion and worship in his gaze, you can’t believe for just one brief moment in your past, you had thought Neteyam wouldn’t want you to call his own. It’s clear to you now that he’s only ever saw you.

So suddenly you’re brought out of your reverie when you hear a gagging sound coming from the direction of your other side. Reluctantly pulling away from Neteyam, you spot Lo’ak pretending to throw up the contents of his meal, no doubt having seen the intimate moment between his older brother and yourself. In any other instance, the embarrassment would be clawing away at you - and, you won’t deny the little semblance of it still making its way to the forefront - but the endearment you held for Neteyam in that moment, when you truly saw how much you meant to one another, overrides anything else. You laugh at your younger brother figure, looking up at Neteyam with nothing but comfort and passion in your eyes, watching as he rolls his eyes and shakes his head at such dramatics. But, he doesn’t pull away - no, he keeps you closer.

Another sound is brought forward to your senses - this time it’s Neytiri, smacking the back of her youngest son’s head, her words a hushed scolding. You faintly hear her tell him that someday soon, that will be him and his own mate, but the voices drown out when your attention is pulled back to Neteyam. He’s not looking at you this time, rather he’s laughing at his brother’s grumbling of having to put up being like Neteyam, and as your eyes drown in everything he has to offer, you realise the whole world had started to disappear, until all you see is him.

After a long day spent with the younger Na’vi within your clan, you’re finally finding the time to slip away and relax. Your time had been filled up with helping teach the children different aspects that Pandora had to offer before they go their separate ways and start heavily training on what they wish to do in order to provide for the clan - whether that be foraging, hunting, healer, weaving... You and a few others had taken the children out into the forests, showing them the plants, the fauna, the creatures, the life that constantly emanated around them. 

This was arguably one of your most favourite things to do - teaching the children the way of Ewya was such a beautiful experience when you got to witness their eyes light up in awe, fascination cleaving at each and every one of them, wanting to know more, to explore more. Spending time with them made your heart grow fonder, the images conjuring in your mind of the day that yourself and Neteyam get to do such things with your own children. You’re still unsure as to how many you’d like, but you know that Neteyam would be the best father, without a shadow of a doubt.

Such thoughts stay lingering within the corners of your mind, unrelenting in their leave and it has the corners of your lips turning up in a subtle smirk. The walk from the tent you had just visited after dropping off the last child wasn’t such a distance from your own, and you couldn’t stop the sigh of relief breathing through you when you spotted it. Already, you were picturing yourself laying down in the comfort of your mat, eyes closed as the worries slowly start to slip away, your dreamland beginning to take to the forefront of you mind. 

Lately, your dreams had only been filled with Neteyam, and you wondered what else they’d have you thinking about that night. The time of your bonding with Neteyam was just around the corner now, on the precipice to being the next chapter in your life, and both nervousness and excitement filled your entire being. You wanted it to be special, you wanted to be everything Neteyam ever wanted in a mate, and that’s where your nerves started. But, the moment you thought of them, they were shut down by your excitement - you knew Neteyam, and with the way he had been treating you all this time was only further evidence to how much he cared about you. You truly didn’t have anything to worry about.

“Y/n!” Your name pierces through the clan, senses heightened when you recognise the voice, such a sound being the cause of your craned eyes and elevated tail, like they had a life of their own and were looking forward to seeing him, too. You stop in front of your tent, watching as Neteyam slowly jogs his way over to you, his hands hidden behind his back.

“Hi, ‘teyam,” you greet him, an affectionate smile playing against your lips.

He sends you one back, but this one falters a little towards the end, like he’s unsure of yourself. It has you feeling nervous again, but this time, the nerves are understandable - he’s beginning to fidget from foot to foot, nodding to himself as though he’s telling himself everything’s going to be okay. “Hey,” he replies, voice low and quiet, so unlike the Neteyam you’re used to. One of his hands points towards your tent behind you, still keeping the other one hidden away from your prying eyes. “Can we talk inside for a moment?”

Such words only make you feel worse, so many jumbled thoughts and suspicions bouncing from one side of your intrigued mind to the next, concocting different possible outcomes of what could be the source of his anxiety. You repeatedly tell yourself that it can’t be anything too damaging - after everything the two of you have been through together, even before finding out you were to be mated, it’s practically impossible to pull you apart, now. Without yet being mated, you know the two of you are bonded for life, and nothing can ever come in between that. Still, a small part of yourself feeds off his apprehension and you can’t help but wonder if going inside your tent with him will change the course of your life as you know it.

With a tense smile, trying your best to muster up the courage and pretend that he’s not worrying you, you nod, moving towards the entrance. Neteyam’s quick with his movements - instantly, the flap is pulled open for you, his hands holding back the fabric and allowing you to usher yourself inside. That’s a good sign, you tell yourself - if he’s treating you like this still, whatever he wants to talk about can’t be too bad, right? Unless he’s being a gentleman so the idea of tearing you down doesn’t seem as harsh.

You walk over to your mat, placing yourself down in a hurry, looking up at Neteyam and gesturing for him to do the same. He does so, and his body movements of sitting down opposite you are stiff, too. You notice his hand still firmly placed behind his back. Suddenly, the air feels uncomfortable, too much to bare as it continues to envelop you more, his worry stifling every one of your senses. Sucking in a breath, you let out a nervous laugh, hoping to ease the tension, wanting to get it over with in the chance it’s something bad. “’Teyam, you’re worrying me.”

As soon as you speak, he’s on alert - his head shoots up to you, finally able to properly look at you directly, his pupils blown wide. Tension steadily starts to dissipate from his figure, a brittle chuckle parting from his lips as he shakes his head slightly. “I’m sorry, I do not mean to worry you, it’s just...” he pauses, takes a big breath like he’s preparing himself for something monumental and steadies himself. “I made something for you.”

The strain of believing Neteyam was going to be telling you bad news disperses and it’s like it was never there in the first place. You feel your ears wiggle as they come to understand exactly what he said, your tail swaying back and forth in anticipation. “For me?”

He breathes out a soft laugh, eyes lighting up at how adorable you look to him. “Of course, am I courting someone else?”

It’s like the nervous Neteyam has completely disappeared, and finally you’re looking at the one you know and love - the Neteyam that is brave, and proud; the Neteyam that enjoys teasing you just to get a shy reaction out you; the Neteyam that can’t help but be sarcastic despite being a nervous wreck just moments beforehand. You hate the way he teases you, and yet you love it at the same time. You shake your head at his sarcasm, in slight disbelief at how he had managed to change his demeanour in the matter of a split second, a velvet-like giggle breaking out before you have the chance to force it back in. Now, he knows he’s got you right where he wants you.

Slowly, with both precision and care, he moves his hand from behind his back, palm outstretched and showing off what he has to offer you. Your eyes land on a beautifully woven necklace, all different colours, shapes and sizes of beads and feathers and small intricacies tied all into place to make it perfect. It’s completely caught your attention, and you can’t seem to train your focus away from it. Subconsciously, your hand covers your mouth, smile wide and tears beginning to brim along your waterline. “Oh, ‘teyam. It’s beautiful.”

He brings himself closer to you, body shifting over until you’re now sat side by side, legs touching. He holds the necklace delicately in his hand still, bringing it further into the light to show it off, to show you how it looks in its true element. A beam plays at his lips now that he’s finally at ease, seeing the way you look so adoringly upon the object, so intense and ethereal it surely can’t be real. 

With a slight shake to his hand, he points to one of the beads, a watercolour blue that glistens when it shines perfectly against the light. “This bead is to represent when we first met - when you tripped and fell into the water.”

The memory comes back to you so quickly, it felt as though it happened just yesterday. You had been stood by the water, so close your toes were tipping in to the cool liquid, watching the fish as they swam in their habitat, blissfully happy and fascination clear on your features. Neteyam had unintentionally snuck up on you, scaring the life out of you as you fell into the water in surprise. Instantly, Neteyam felt bad, helping you out of the water and making sure you were fine, but as time went on, Neteyam loved to casually bring it up in conversation, if only to tease you.

You playfully smacked his arm, features recoiling before gasping out at his remark. “I did not trip - you scared me!”

He laughs, eyes imploring straight into yours, and you can see the hearts filled lovingly within them. Shaking his head, he bites back his smile, moving onto the next one, this one a darker brown, almost rusty in colour with different edges of tones. “This one is to represent the time when I started to help you with your bow.” As another memory filters through your mind’s eye, of two younger looking Na’vi practicing in the midst of the forest on how to correctly aim, you start to realise that this necklace your future mate had made for you is personal. He didn’t choose these specific ornaments just based on their beautiful colours or their variety of textures... he’d chosen them to portray each pleasing moment you had spent together, right from the very beginning. Your attention doesn’t falter, eyes trailing slowly from the necklace up to him, watching as he continues to talk through each one; so in his element, so in love. “This is a feather I found that looks similar to the colour of your ikran, and this one is supposed to represent when I asked to court you-”

You couldn’t help yourself - his voice was drowning in your ears, a ringing sensation taking over until silence deafened you and there was nothing else important in the world. Whilst he’s still speaking, you take his face gently within your grasp, holding onto both sides of his face, turning him to you and smashing your lips against his own. You kiss him passionately, as though it was the last one you may ever share together. It isn’t usually you who initiates moments like this one, but the more he spoke about every moment you shared together, concocting them and making them into something you’ll wear for the rest of your life proudly, all you wanted to do was show him how much the gesture meant to you, how much he meant to you.

When you eventually pull back, your lips linger against one another, breaths mingling together. You press another soft kiss to his lips, thumbs absentmindedly rubbing the apples of his cheeks. Looking up at him, you watch as his eyes start to open slowly, dazed, hazy, in love. A grin rests along your features at having been able to get him so drunk on you in such a way. “Nga yawne lu oer, Neteyam (I love you, Neteyam),” you breathe out, pecking his lips again, even lighter this time. “Oel ngati kameie (I see you).”

A vast smile is obvious upon his features now, uncontainable, but it wasn’t like he wanted to contain it anyway. For as long as the two of you were together, he’d show off all of himself to you, no matter the circumstance. Such a sight before you - all for you - has your heart fluttering. Neteyam presses his head impossibly closer to your own, trying his hardest for the two of you to become one, kneading his face against your own, wanting his scent to be all over you, for everyone to know that you belong to him. “You have no idea how much you mean to me, yawne (beloved), and how eager I am to finally be all yours.”

Your cheeks are hurting from how happy you appear, but there’s so much love being shared between the two of you, you simply don’t care. “And, I cannot wait to be yours, muntxa (mate).”

It’s the first time you’ve admittedly called him your mate - after all this time, it’s usually him to call you such a name. But, seeing him today, presenting you with a gift of such beautifully personal memories, you finally give into yourself. Even if it is still some time before the two of you mate as one before the eyes of Ewya, but all in all, Neteyam te Suli Tsyeyk’itan will always be your mate. 

A laugh bubbles in the back of his throat at finally hearing you call him such a name, pearly fangs on full display as the two of you show off your eagerness to come together as one - of how much you care for one another, how much you yearn for one another.

You truly cannot wait to be all his, because there was no doubt in your mind that Neteyam was always the one for you.

taglist ;

@bakugouswaif @andraga12 @draiochtwrites @teyums​ @neteyamslovrr @tinkerbelle05 @netesanrr

#𝐅𝐋𝐄𝐔𝐑𝐑’s work ── ✎ #neteyam #neteyam sully #avatar #avatar 2 #neteyam fluff #neteyam smut #neteyam x reader #neteyam sully x reader #neteyam x you #neteyam sully x you #neteyam x female reader #neteyam x fem reader #neteyam sully fluff #neteyam sully smut

[moonlightsolo]

can you write neteyam and human reader you’re exploring in the forest and ends up losing you and when he finds you after searching for a long time you’re actually having so much fun gathering things and running around and it’s all cute and protective! ^.^

i looove nete n human reader it’s my weakness … i hope u like this!!!

“nete! c’mon!” you call out to your boyfriend as you run amongst the trees. you giggle as you leap over a fallen log in one fluid motion, somehow landing on your feet over the other side.

“hey!” your boyfriends accented voice cackles from behind you, but your feet refuse to relent. obviously, if he really wanted to catch up to you, he would. his long legs give him the advantage. your head dodges branches, and vines, and your legs hop over rocks as you sprint through the foliage.

something bright catches your eyes next to your swift feet, stopping you in your tracks. you’re finally able to take a deep breath as you slowly backtrack. right at the base of a tree trunk, three bright pink flowers sit buried in the dirt, rustling slightly in the wind.

a fwäkìwll; a mantis orchid.

the huffing and puffing boy catches up to you, his usual unruly braids are secured behind his head. with two that must’ve escaped that frame his face perfectly, “you’re nuts, you know that?” he laughs breathlessly.

“look!” you bend down to examine the flora, admiring the softness of the petals, “oh my, it’s so beautiful.”

neteyam can’t help but giggle at how you gawk over a simple little plant. something he’ll never understand, but he will always appreciate your fascination.

your hands reach into the small bag slung across your body to pull out a notebook, flipping to an empty page to sketch a rough draft of the flowers.

his large four-fingered hand rests on the top of your head to softly rustle your hair, pressing his fingers into your skin to slightly massage your scalp. your head angles up to look at him, smiling wide at your boy before stuffing your head back into your book.

your pencil scratches satisfyingly against the lined paper; instinctively bringing your lip between your teeth as you focus.

“i’ll be right back, okay? stay here, my love.” neteyam pats your head as you nod, but truly his words went in one ear and out the other. it was something about him leaving, but your attention is taken up by the flower.

once you have a few key points labeled on your little picture, you finally close the book. your eyes dart around to seek out the blue skin of your na’vi boyfriend, but something else catches your eye.

behind a wide tree trunk in the distance, you see the edge of a plant. the loreyu; also known as the helicoradian!! you excitedly spring to your feet, and creep toward the giant plant. ducking under thick vines and swatting at buzzing bugs.

on the way there, you stumble upon a small stream that has glittering rocks and gems under the water. obviously, you can’t help but snag a few and store them in your bag— but you can’t let yourself get too off track, so you continue forward.

the salmon-colored spiraled plant is almost twenty feet high, which is ginormous compared to your tiny human body. as you grow closer, you realize the one loreyu is surrounded by clusters of smaller and even bigger ones.

“oh my god.” you breathe out in shock as you carefully weave between the helicoradia; already having the knowledge that if they’re merely brushed against, they’ll retract into the ground.

you mindfully sink to your knees, folding your legs underneath your body as you lean back on your heels. you unlatch the notebook from being pressed against your chest, flipping through the used pages to find the one you’re looking for.

you’ve already observed this plant elsewhere in the forest, so theres a few notes and drawings written down already. you decide to perfect the previous drawing you have in the middle of your page, even sketching a close-up of the edge of the leaf.

you tuck your pencil into the crease of the book before closing it and sliding it back into the safety of your bag. you glance up into the sky, but you can barely make out the blue color from the plants that tower over you.

it’s so serene and peaceful; you’re hidden amongst these intimidating plants that are five times the size of you. it seems like nothing could ever hurt you, as if you’re shielded from the unforgiving environment of pandora.

you carefully lay down against the grassy soil. once your back hits the warm ground, you suck in a deep breath— mentally wishing you could breathe their air to be able to smell the fresh dirt.

although the oxygen mask is your key to survive, it’s also so suffocating. one of the biggest problems it gives you is that you’re unable to kiss neteyam whenever you want. only able to get inside the privacy of your room in the scientists shack, but even he needs his own mask.

wait, neteyam. where is neteyam?!

you abruptly sit up in your spot, suddenly feeling as if you’re claustrophobic from the menancing plants that surround you in every which way. oh god, you’re gonna throw up. your feet scramble to stand as you panic, causing your shoulder to brush against the tendrils of the plant.

with a pop, it sucks itself into the ground. the movement creates a chain reaction that triggers the entire field to recoil into the dirt. you watch as each plant disappears, waiting until the area clears entirely. everything around you looks the same, and absolutely nothing looks familiar.

something firm grasps your upper body from behind, strongly spinning you around to face them.

your frozen expression is met with wide, worried eyes that belong to neteyam, “what are you doing?!? where were you?” he lectures as arms tug you tightly into his chest. he briefly embraces you before pulling away just as fast to stare back down at you.

“i told you to stay where you were! why did you walk away?” his voice cracks from his raw emotion, his honey-colored eyes dart frantically over your face.

“i’m—i’m sorry, i- i didn’t realize i walked so far away… i was just taking notes and… drawing.” your voice stumbles over itself.

his shoulders drop slightly from your anxious voice, his eyes watch how your quickened breath slightly fogs the glass of your mask.

coldness washes over his body when he realizes just how harsh he sounds and the points of his ears droop from his realization, “you scared me. i thought i lost you.” his sharp voice has softened and his tight grip loosens on your shoulders.

you take a step forward to stand in between his feet to wrap yourself around his body, smooshing yourself into the warm skin just above his navel. “i’m sorry i won’t do it again.” you whimper out, your apology slightly muffled.

his hand soothingly cradles the back of your head as he holds you against him, “don’t be sorry.” he tsks, “it’s my fault. i shouldn’t have left you.”

your head angles up to gaze at him, giving him a soft downturned smile, “well, i should’ve listened to what you were saying.”

“s’okay. you’re with me now, that’s all that matters.” his fingers toy with the elastic band of your oxygen mask, itching to rip it off and kiss you; but he knows that he can’t.

“oh! i uh- i found some crystals! i think you can use them for your clothing and your hair beads, ‘n stuff.. do you wanna see?” your hand wiggles your bag persuadingly with an excited grin.

neteyam stares down at you in awe and nods his head, “‘course i wanna see, ma yawntu. show me.” he nudges his nose in the air for you to continue.

your hands rummage through the weaved sack on your hip, pushing past your notebook to the little bag at the bottom filled with the rocks. you pluck it out to dump the contents into your palm, admiring how the multi-colored crystals sparkle under the sunlight.

“those are perfect. i must make you some jewelry out of them.” his eyes brighten from the idea, “what would you like? a necklace or somethin’ else?” one of his fingertips roll the rocks in your palm to examine them, careful not to push them off into the grass.

“really? you‘re gonna make me something?” your voice sounds surprised, which is shocking to him. of course, he is going to make you something; you’re his mate, his muntxate.

when he first courted you, he gifted you a handmade bracelet — which you’re currently still wearing and have no plans to take it off, and the weaved bag that never leaves your side.

“yes, for you, silly. who else would i make jewelry for?” neteyam rolls his eyes at you playfully, a sneaky smirk crawling it’s way onto his lips.

your eyes flit over his face, still surprised, even after all this time, that you’ve bagged yourself a tall, gorgeous, blue alien. something comes over your body, a sudden rush of adrenaline as you suck in a deep breath of your oxygen to hold your breath.

confusion twists over neteyams features as your hand grips the lower part of your mask to push it over the top of your head, “what are you-?” his question is cut off by your hands reaching up to grip the edge of his waist adornment to tug him down to you.

he happily obliges with a pearly grin, ducking his head down to your height to urgently pull you into a kiss. you smile when his lips move against yours and his hand presses into the small of your back to lean your body slightly backwards.

even though kissing him is a rare occasion in itself, it still feels like the first time— every. single. time.

his tail curls around his back to wrap around your upper thigh to hold your body in place, as if his hands aren’t strong enough to do so by themselves.

neteyam reluctantly pulls back, staring down to admire your beauty without something separating him from you. his hand sits heavy on your neck with his fingers curled up under your jaw. his thumb swipes down the bridge of your nose, and over your plump lips before pulling the mask back over your face.

your human features are so soft, and delicate; he can’t help but touch you without your mask whenever he gets the chance.

once the mask is firmly fitted over your face you suck in, a definitely needed, sharp breath. your chest expands as your lungs inhale the air, giving neteyam a small sad smile. “i love you.” you whisper once you’re finally able to talk.

neteyam’s face lights up from those three words, his lanky arms wrap around your tiny frame to lift you into the air to his height. it’s nothing new to express your love to each other, but whenever he hears those words it feels surreal to him.

the sudden change in height makes you squeal, and wrap your arms around his neck for support, “i love you.” he replies and presses his forehead to the glass, which you instantly lean forward into.

“let’s head back to camp. we can get some food, and just hide in your room and do nothing for the rest of the day?” he offers as he lowers you back down to the ground.

when your feet hit the softness of the grass, your hand reaches out to grab his. neteyam’s fingers practically engulf yours, so you decide to hold onto him the best you can.

“sounds like the best idea you’ve had all day.” your voice hums with a content grin.

neteyam gives you a little nod, before looking around to see which way he should go. he begins to walk to lead you back to his ikran, mindful to go slow since his legs are much longer than yours.

but not without his tail wrapping protectively around your leg. this time, he’ll make sure you won’t stray away from his side, not even a little bit...

-

stop this is so cute i’m in love w this 😭

#neteyam #neteyam x reader #neteyam x human!reader #neteyam x human reader #neteyam x you #neteyam x y/n #neteyam x oc #neteyam sully #neteyam sully x human!reader #neteyam sully x reader #neteyam sully x you #neteyam sully x y/n #neteyam sully x human reader #neteyam sully fluff #avatar twow #avatar #avatar neteyam #avatar x you #avatar x human reader #neteyam fic #neteyam imagine #neteyam blurb #neteyam request

[lovemyavatar]

Hello, pretty! First of all your writing is so good, I'm hooked! And if u don't mind can I request a fluff (maybe smut?) of Neteyam being so clingy in public, that man can't keep his hands to himself fr and I know for a fact that he would always rub it in people faces (especially the one's who failed to court you) like he would throw a glare when he notices someone staring at you for a second too long before kissing you on the spot while looking straight into their eyes.

Mine

Neteyam x Fem!Omatikaya!Reader

Warnings: jealousy, possessiveness, mild angst, fluff, lil hint of smut

Yours (part two)

Neteyam still can’t believe you chose him.

Despite being the future Olo’eyktan and a skilled warrior, he has a tendency to view himself as less than. But you…you are easily the most beautiful and sought after woman in the clan. So, despite the fact that you’re already mated, that you’ve chosen him for life, he constantly feels the need to assert his claim in the presence of other men.

Like in the morning, when you’re helping with meal preparation. You’re always in the same spot, washing the newest collection of fruit, so he’ll easily settle against your back without so much as a hello.

“Morning, yawntutsyip (darling).” A soft smile pulls at your lips, cheeks warming under the public display of affection.

Neteyam nuzzles against your shoulder, humming lowly as his lips caress the skin of your neck. His hands completely dwarf your hips, long fingers curling around them before gently guiding you closer to him. You instantly relax against the warmth of his chest, a contented sigh adding to the quiet morning bustle.

What you don't notice is the way his eyes scan the area, pointedly glaring at every man who dares glance in your direction. It's mostly accidental, really, few would openly challenge the future Olo'eyktan for his mate, but Neteyam doesn't see it that way. Every single look, touch, conversation is something he needs to monitor closely, ensuring it doesn't go too far.

When you sit with his family for meals, he crowds in close, until his arm presses against yours and his tail firmly wraps around your waist. If you'll be with any of his siblings for the day, he practically threatens them into watching you closely too.

On the rare occasion that he can't be physically near you, he does his best to remain within eyesight. His attention locks on you, on anyone who approaches you, mentally daring them to even try acting out of line. He isn't a violent person, but Eywa, he wouldn't hesitate to protect what's his.

He's always finding ways to touch you, and you love it. You aren't fully aware of his true motives, simply appreciating how smitten he seems to be. No matter how busy he is, he makes his adoration known with a simple brush of his hand along your back in passing, or a quick peck of his lips on yours before his father inevitably rips him away.

It's mostly innocent, his little routine, until someone who once courted you pushes him too far. There are only a few who dared vie for your affections at the same time as Neteyam.

Truthfully, you didn't pay any of them much attention, only accepting their courting gifts politely as you're expected to do. From the beginning, he had your heart, your decision was made early on and there wasn’t any real competition.

But still, to this day, if one of them gets too close, lingers for too long, Neteyam is instantly on high alert. Like right now.

He's absolutely seething, jaw clenched so firmly he fears he might crack a tooth. His short nails dig into his palms, fists tightened at the ready.

“Mawey (calm), Neteyam.” His grandmother demands roughly, forcing his fingers apart as she works on his battered chest. “You are too tense for wrapping.”

He lets his hands fall onto his thighs instead, fingers splayed and pressing harshly into his skin. His head sways side to side, peering over her as she kneels before him, tending to the injuries he suffered on the latest supply run.

He doesn't pay her poking and prodding any mind, full attention locked on you across the clearing. You're helping, as you always do, dutifully patching up the wounded. He had every intention of being the one beneath your gentle hands, but his grandmother got to him first. He tried, he really did, but there's no arguing with Mo'at.

His jaw grinds as he watches you rub yalnabark into a warriors shoulder. But not just any warrior, of course, it's one of the men who once tried to court you. His heart thrums harshly between his ribs when your head tilts back ever so slightly, a beautiful laugh twinkling from your lips.

Your lips that should only ever part that way for him. Your hands that should only ever touch him. A dangerous possessiveness brews deep wtihin his belly, whispering that everything about you is his. His to claim, to touch, to protect. Just simply his.

In an instant, he's on his feet. Completely ignoring his grandmother's protests—which he knows will get him into trouble later—but he can't find it within himself to care. There's no way he can endure this for even a moment longer.

He approaches swiftly, fists clenched all over again as he stalks toward you from behind. His face is marred with a dark glare, chin dipped, gaze molten beneath his thick brow.

“That's enough.” He barks roughly, large hand covering yours to peel it from the man's skin.

A tiny gasp lodges in your throat at his sudden presence, shoulders stiffening at the firm grasp. Your muscles relax a fraction when wide eyes find your mate, but the relief only lasts for a few seconds as you take in his furious state.

“Neteyam?” Your voice is gentle, questioning, as you place a comforting hand on his bicep.

He doesn't even glance your way, the full force of his wrath locked onto the other warrior.

“Find someone else to finish.” He orders, tone dripping with finality.

The man looks up at him with a blank expression, undeterred. “She's just patching me up, man.”

Neteyam's vision blurs, red dotting his periphery as his chest tightens with rage. Where you see a man simply defending the fact that what you were doing was completely innocent, Neteyam catches the way his lips twitch into a defiant smirk. Sees the challenge swelling just below the surface.

“Like I said, find someone else to do it.” Neteyam steps forward, spine straightening as he towers over the man, ready to pounce at any moment.

“‘Teyam...” His name is a warning under your breath as you move closer, urging him to calm down.

“What? You don't trust your girl or something?” Now, it's clear that was a direct challenge, and it makes you gasp in shock.

Neteyam doesn't hesitate, jerking forward until his fingers wrap firmly around the man's throat. You can't help but cry out, hands moving to cover your mouth as the situation quickly escalates. The man’s good arm instantly claws at the tight hold restricting his airflow, eyes widening in horror.

“Neteyam, please!” You hiss, pulling at his shoulder, panic gripping you as a few curious eyes drift your way.

Finally, he relents, releasing the man and letting you jerk him away. He’s trembling with pent up emotion, muscles coiled tight, but he doesn’t want to cause a scene. Not now, while the clan is regrouping after such a stressful mission.

“Disrespect my mate again, and I’ll show you what a real warrior is capable of.” He doesn’t even sound like himself, voice deep, the warning accented with a ferocious growl.

The man simply watches you drag Neteyam away, stunned that the always docile future Olo’eytkan actually fought back.

You don’t stop until you’ve reached your shared tent, practically shoving him through the entrance. It flaps shut harshly behind you as you stomp in after him, hands resting on your hips when he turns to face you. His ears flatten at your agitation, head dipping in shame.

“What the hell was that?” You snap, fiery gaze boring into his pointedly.

“I didn’t like the way you were touching him.” He knows he took it too far, knows you did nothing wrong, but there’s no escaping the anger that still courses through him. He fights to keep his tone even when he speaks to you, desperate not to make the situation worse.

“You mean when I was tending to his wounds?” Your hands wave animatedly in exasperation, scoffing at the absurdity of it all. “I’m the future Tsahik. What do you want me to do?”

He growls low in his chest, stalking forward until you’re face to face, a mere few inches between you. “You are mine. You agreed to that when we mated. I have every right—”

“You have no right!” You can’t help but shout as frustration curls in your stomach. Your fingers shove against his chest lightly, careful to avoid his freshly wrapped injuries. “You don’t see me threatening other women for simply existing in your presence, do you?”

He forces a tense breath through pursed lips, trying to calm down. This is quickly turning into a fight between the two of you, which is the last thing he wants. He reaches out, fingers gently curling around your arms to stop you from pacing before him.

“I’m sorry, yawne (beloved). I just…I can’t stand the thought of anyone…taking you from me.” His voice is soft, quiet, face tightening as the words leave him. It’s difficult to admit this, to bring attention to his deepest insecurity.

He is the son of Toruk Makto, a mighty warrior, and the future leader of the clan. He isn’t supposed to feel such things, to worry about losing you to another. He’s supposed to exude hard edges and confidence at all times. Not weakness, like he shows now as he stands before you, bearing it all.

“Oh, Nete.” You coo, eyes rounding as you cup his cheek softly. He leans into the touch, eyes fluttering closed with a heavy sigh.

You had no idea he held this turmoil inside, was fighting to remain stoic while watching your every interaction with another. It all makes sense now, his constant desire to keep you close. It wasn’t coming from a place of love, but rather uncertainty.

“I am yours, okay? Come here.” Your gentle touch guides him those last few inches closer, until his lips brush yours in a light caress.

He responds eagerly, relief flooding his system at the fact that you aren’t upset with him, that you understand. His palms skim down your arms before releasing you so he can engulf your waist, pulling you flush against his chest.

His tongue parts your lips, laying claim to your mouth as he groans slowly, adrenaline still coursing through his veins. The kiss quickly becomes feverish, passionate as the desire to assert his ownership of you becomes overwhelming.

You pull away suddenly, fingers tangling in his braids to tug his lips from yours. He growls in protest, chasing your touch as you lean back a few inches. Your heavy-lidded gaze meets his, chest heaving as your heart thrums wildly.

“How do you want me?” You purr, sultry eyes blinking up at him through thick lashes.

“What?” He pants, breathless from the insinuation beneath your words alone. His tail twitches to attention at his back, swaying with excitement.

“I will prove that no other man could even come close to taking me away. Now, how do you want me?” Your fingertips trail down the column of his throat, causing a shiver to roll down his spine.

“On your knees.” The command is gritted through clenched teeth, cock already straining behind his loincloth.

You instantly obey, slowly kneeling before him, hands smoothing down his broad chest and tight stomach on the way down. Your fingers make quick work of releasing his pulsing length, gaze flicking over the huge appendage eagerly as it springs free. Sharp teeth catch your lower lip, tongue wetting your lips in anticipation.

Your eyes catch his just as your mouth closes around his swollen tip, watching in satisfaction as a long moan rumbles his chest, head tilting back at the feeling.

You settle into the floor, finding a comfortable position, ready to show him just how much you belong to him, and only him.

let me know if you guys want a smutty part two 👀

#netayam #neteyam fic #neteyam headcanons #neteyam sully #neteyam imagine #neteyam fluff #neteyam smut #neteyam sully fluff #neteyam sully smut #neteyam x you #neteyam x reader #neteyam x y/n #neteyam sully hc #neteyam sully imagine #neteyam sully x reader #neteyam sully x you #neteyam sully fic #neteyam sully x y/n

[jakexneytiri]

may i request a dad! neteyam taking care of his sick newborn?🫶🤍

of course!! :)

⊱✿⊰ ⊱✿⊰ ⊱✿⊰ ⊱✿⊰ ⊱✿⊰ ⊱✿⊰ ⊱✿⊰ ⊱✿⊰ ⊱✿⊰ ⊱✿⊰

“teyam?” you call out to your mate, who is preparing lunch for the two of you while you’re feeding your newborn.

“yes, my love?” he glances over to see your face twisted in pain, gently trying to remove your baby from your breast.

“he’s-ow! he’s biting, can you take him for a bit?” you look over at your mate, exhaustion plastered all across your face.

he immediately rushes over, holding his arms out to take your son. you gently try removing his tiny lips from your nipple, his little teeth grazing over it before you finally pry him away.

neteyam scoops your son up in one arm, while he heads back to finish preparing lunch with his other. “come on, you can help me prepare lunch for mama.”

he shifts his sons’ position in his arms, propping him up against his shoulder now. it’s not long before neteyam hears a small “bleh!” followed by a wet, slimy sensation on his shoulder.

neteyam is used to this, having taken care of tuk her entire childhood. “not feeling well, my little warrior?” he grabs a wet cloth and wipes your sons’ mouth first, then the remaining spit up on his shoulder.

you’re rubbing a small glob of yalnabark around your swollen, irritated nipple when you hear it. looking over at them both, you say “it’s okay, i can take him now.”

“no, no. it is all right, i’ve got him. do you need help with that?” neteyam’s gaze lingers on your swollen breasts, and he can’t help but feel guilty. “i’m so sorry, my love. please lay down, i will take care of you.”

you lay back down, as you watch your mate lay beside you, cradling your son in his arms. you watch his large fingers gently trace over your newborn sons skin, trying to ease him to sleep.

your son lets out a wail, beginning to cry now. neteyam immediately picks him up, hushing him as he gently rocks him back and forth.

“shh, don’t cry. i’ve got you, daddy’s got you.”

#neteyam x reader #neteyam x y/n #neteyam x omaticaya!reader #neteyam x na'vi!reader #neteyam sully fluff #neteyam fluff #neteyam sully x reader #neteyam x you #neteyam sully x you #neteyam sully x y/n #daddy neteyam #dad!neteyam #dilf!neteyam #dad neteyam

[loveforneteyam]

Hello! I would like to request for Neteyam x reader angst-to-fluff headcanons for how he would react if his s/o flinched during an argument, please and thank you!

❝flinch❞ ( neteyam suli )

summary: even in the heat of an argument, neteyam wouldn't dare to hurt you, so it breaks his heart when you think otherwise. pairing: neteyam x omaticaya!reader wordcount: 782 contains: some angst! fighting/arguments, neteyam's kinda mean note: my first request and first fic! this idea is so good!this is so perfect for our favorite boy. i'm not the best at headcanons, i hope this is good...thank you for your request!

ma syulang : my flower ma txe'lan : my heart

masterlist

You and Neteyam don't easily argue. Every relationship has a few up's and down's, but you have always been able to calmly work through it. You know just how to calm him down if he's ever stressed or flustered with his duties as the future olo'eyktan, and he knows just how to soothe your nerves.

So when you have your first real, emotional argument, it's completely unexpected.

Neteyam had an exhausting day that consisted of keeping Lo'ak in check, making sure that Tuk wasn't running off into the forest again, and following any other orders that his father gave. Most of the time, Neteyam could compose himself until he'd join you in bed at night and you would hold him through whatever was bothering him.

However, this particular night, Neteyam returned to your shared tent in silence. You could see the frustration in his eyes, so you immediately ran to console him. "What is wrong, ma 'Teyam?"

"Nothing, ma syulang." He was lying and you could tell. He practically threw his bow onto its stand. You rested your hands on his shoulders. "Please, it has been a long day."

"Let me help you," you cooed, pulling him to a seat. He sat down and you began to pluck the colorful feathers from his braids. You'd collected newer, cleaner ones earlier that day. "Is it your father?"

"It is not just him, (y/n)," he sounded annoyed with you and you couldn't tell why. What had you done to bother him in the few minutes he'd been home? "I just want to go to sleep."

You pressed a kiss to his temple. "I found new feathers today, ma txe'lan. Let me remove these and then we may rest."

He huffed out a harsh sigh that felt like a cut in your heart. Your hands stopped their movements; your eyes softened. "Neteyam...have I done something wrong?"

The only thing that was wrong was that Neteyam felt like all of his responsibilities during the day were piling up on top of him. Although he loved to spend time with you more than anything else, it felt suffocating to be insistently questioned when all he wanted was to fall asleep with you in his arms.

Unfortunately, he didn't communicate it that way. "Ma (y/n)," his voice was unusually deep and agitated. "I want to be left alone."

Alone? This was completely foreign to you. Neteyam had never wanted to be alone before. "What did I do?" Your voice almost cracked as tears collected in your eyes.

"You have been irritating me this whole time!" He shot up from his seat, causing you to stumble onto your bottom, knocking over the small bowl of feathers that you collected. "When I come home, I just want to spend time with you...I do not want to be bothered!"

Neteyam had never raised his voice at you like this. When he turned towards you, you closed your eyes and flinched your head to the side. His heart broke.

It was silent for a few moments. Your eyes remained shut until you noticed that Neteyam could barely breathe. When you looked to him, his lips parted with small, panicked breaths. "Ma syulang..." he began, falling to his knees and moving closer to you.

"I'm sorry," you muttered, trying to ignore the tears that were now evidently running down your cheeks.

He shook his head while you tried to hurriedly collect the feathers in the bowl again. "Oh, (y/n)," his hand gently grabbed yours. You would not meet his eyes. "I would never hurt you. I am sorry."

"'S alright, Neteyam."

Neteyam pulled you to him and cupped your face with his hand, gently rubbing the tears away. "You've done nothing wrong. I should never raise my voice like that with you, I'm so sorry, ma (y/n)." You leaned into his hand and wrapped your arms around him to pull him closer to your frame. He embraced you, holding your head to his chest. "Please, don't cry, I would never hurt you. I'm so sorry, can you ever forgive me?"

#bleghh i hate how i ended this!! #but i still love this request <3 #neteyam sully #neteyam sully x reader #neteyam x reader #neteyam x navi!reader #neteyam x omaticaya!reader #neteyam sully x omaticaya!reader #neteyam sully fluff #neteyam sully angst #neteyam fluff #neteyam angst #avatar fanfic #neteyam fanfic #avatar the way of water #jake sully x reader #neteyam imagine #neteyam sully one shot #jake sully one shot #jake sully imagine #jake sully angst #jake sully fluff #jake sully smut #jake sully fanfiction #lo'ak sully #lo'ak sully x reader #lo'ak x navi!reader #jake sully x navi!reader #jake sully x omaticaya!reader #lo'ak x omaticaya!reader

[mayhemories]

Neteyam x readers kids to lovers eventually, before WOTW bc I carnt handle his death

Eywa, A Sign

Ohhh it kills me, I love this boy. He died for what? Pandora Jesus better resurrects him next time, or I will have words with Mr Cameron. Not sure if I did your request justice, hope I did <3 

Pairing: Neteyam Sully x Reader (James Cameron’s Avatar) 

Requested: Yes | No

Warnings: None? Just straight fluff. Reader is an orphan trope/parental death. Mentions of death. 

Words: 1.58k

Author’s Notes: Neteyam is roughly 18/19 here, Reader is 18, Lo’ak and Kiri are 17, and my girl Tuk is still the same. Set before Way of the Water. 

Please note that the reader utilises she/her pronouns. If you’d prefer male or gender-neutral pronouns in fic I’m more than happy to repost a male or gn version of the story, otherwise include any pronoun preferences in the request box!

Read below the cut

Many Na’vi died following Toruk Macto. Either due to the impact of the battlefield violence or, their wounds upon return to their clan. Your parents, two brave Omatikaya warriors, died at the hands of the Sky People during a routine raid on supply shipments. 

Jake and Neytiri were quick to take you under their care, love and protection. Practically becoming one of their own. Being a few months younger than Neteyam and a year older than the twins, Kiri and Lo’ak, you slipped right in.

Jake was never afraid to reprimand you like you were his own, either. Like the time you were twelve, Lo’ak eleven:

“Now what did I tell you two?” Jake had you and Lo’ak lined up against the wall of the clan stronghold, sprung by the Olo’eyktan from the moment you came sneaking back in after curfew. 

“Don’t be in the forest after eclipse-” You and Lo’ak mumbled under your breaths, knowing that Jake wouldn’t let up.

“Yes! That’s right, don’t be in the forest after eclipse!” he said, exasperated, holding his hands above his head, dragging them down across his face. “And where were you two knuckleheads?” His face was annoyed, though his eyes were soft. We were his kids, god forbid anything happened to us. 

“Look dad (y/n) had nothing to do with it, it was all me-” Lo’ak started, but you finished,

“Sir, Lo’ak didn’t want to go, I wanted to go.” You and Lo’ak shared a small smile, he was your brother, through and through. 

Jake shook his head, hands on hips. 

“Go, go, both of you. Wash up.” He was stern, but as you two skxawngs ran past him you saw the gentle smile lay on his lips. 

As you got older you noticed Jake becoming harder and harder on his boys. For whatever reason Lo’ak almost gave up on pleasing Jake, felt like he could never be enough for him, a spec of dust compared to Neteyam’s glittering gold. Maybe that was why, why he was so impulsive and reckless, consistently. Any attention being good attention for Lo’ak. Regardless of his intentions, you liked that about him. He encourages your sense of adventure like a brother should, was always there to catch you when you fall. Neteyam and Lo’ak were different sides of the same coin, both living to please Jake in one way or another. Jake saw himself in Lo’ak and that scared him, you knew that,

But Neteyam…shit, Neteyam. 

You always saw Neteyam differently. As kids, he felt too cool for you to be around. This developed over time as you, yourself developed. As you felt awkward and out of place in your body, tail giving away every thought and feeling, Neteyam got taller, got broader, got sweeter. As an awkward teenager, your little soft spot evolved into a full-blown crush. You kept it under wraps sure, Lo’ak teasing you here and there but he never thought anything serious of it. Shit, you tried not to think anything of it. He was the future Olo’eyktan, he was the future of the clan. 

Now, freshly eighteen you were considered a woman: A relatively fierce Ikran rider, bow made from wood of the tree to replace the Hometree that was lost to the Sky People, a hunter. You surpassed any ritual trail of clan-life easily, save for one. Save for probably the most important one. 

Finding a mate. 

So, here you were, kneeling on the beautiful deep green moss surrounding the base of the Tree of Voices. The tree was glowing purple, fading to a light pink and back again, streaks of white travelled up and down the tendril of the tree, where you’ve made the bond. The hum of the ancestors created a white noise in you mind, helping to create a true vision. Praying to Eywa always gave you a sense of calm, like all anxieties were being blown right through your body, energy settling itself back into the world. 

“My dear All-Mother Eywa, I come to you now for guidance, for advice.” You started, clamping your eyes shut to encourage any kind of vision, so that you may see into the realm beyond that of physical sight. 

Neteyam knew it was wrong, to listen to your private prayers with Eywa. But he did not make a move to leave his advantageous spot, hidden amongst trees and rocks, he could watch you freely. His whole life felt like it revolved around you, and your alluring presence, strong heart, strong mind. 

Neteyam officially became a man the year prior, it was expected of him as the future clan leader to have already chosen a woman. And, in some ways he had. It had always been you, it was always you. Neteyam loved you, and it was never as a sister as Lo’ak has. When you were children you would play family. Neteyam was the dad, you the mum, Kiri and Lo’ak the kids. Neteyam knew from a young age that he didn’t want to play family with anyone else. 

He assumed Neytiri always knew, too. She never pressured him in claiming a mate, or even talking about it. Jake, well he was less switched on when it came to Neteyam’s shy nature. He was always pestering Neteyam about it-

Jake had flown Neteyam and himself to a floating mountain so that him and his first born son could speak freely: “Look, I’m not even saying you have to mate straight away! But at least court someone Neteyam, you’re the future of this clan-” Jake started, but for the first and last time in his life, Neteyam cut his father off.

“I am waiting for (y/n)!” Neteyam yelled, holding the bridge of his nose, anticipating that Jake would come back with a raised voice as he most often did. It did not come. Instead Jake closed the distance between him and his son, wrapping his arms around his beautiful baby boy, who wasn’t a baby anymore. Neteyam loosened, wrapping his still lanky arms around his father. With his chin resting on Neteyam’s head, Jake chuckled:

“Well then, wait for her as long as you need.” 

“I love her.” Neteyam admitted quietly. 

“I know you do, kid.” 

Neteyam shook the memory from his mind, and focused back on your kneeling, praying figure in front of him. 

“My mother Eywa, what am I to do?” You felt exasperated, lost. “I… I am afraid that the one I love does not love me Eywa.” 

Neteyam’s chest tightened, although he always knew it was a possibility that you may not want him, he tried his hardest swaying anyone else’s decision in the matter. The glares he had sent to all the young na’vi during their teen years, and at your own ceremony of womanhood, Neteyam made it clear with growls and possessive hovering that he was waiting for you. Although, maybe he could’ve made it clearer to you. 

“Great Eywa please, please show me a sign that Neteyam and I will be named mates.” you whispered, scared to admit his name in the scenario, aloud. 

Neteyam felt like he could vomit. He slowly approached you, kneeling beside you, as if he were beginning to pray, himself.

You could feel his heat, his being as he sat down, you didn’t need to open your eyes to confirm. Besides that, you could feel all the blood drain from your body and rush back up to your cheeks and ears. Clearing your throat, you decided that this was a good a sign as any. 

“Neteyam” You opened your eyes, his beautiful warm honey ones already locked on your face, “how much of that did you hear?” 

Neteyam hung his head in shame, shaking some of his braids from their resting places, blood rushing to his cheeks. 

“I am so sorry, I know I shouldn’t have listened to your private words spoken with Eywa.” Neteyam spoke softly, like he always did with you. “But I could not help it, especially knowing you have not chosen a mate yet.” Neteyam spoke around a lump in his throat, “I needed to know why.” 

Your mind was rushing a million miles per minute. But fake bravado was something that Lo’ak taught you, and something you could hide behind.

“You know, you haven’t chosen anyone either. My ceremony was last week, yours was last year.” You said, catching his eye again, with a slight smile on your lips. Neteyam laughed. Shit, you loved that sound. You could die happy now, hearing his laugh. 

“I have chosen,” your stomach dropped at his words, though sensing your anxiety Neteyam wove one of his hands with yours, and pinned you to the spot with his warm eyes. “I just had to wait a year for her to choose me too.” 

And all at once it felt like Eywa had breathed life into you, and Neteyam. Like your soul was made of milk and honey and you were going to flow on forever. 

You kissed him, your hands cupped his beautiful face, his slender fingers settling on your waist, nestling between beads and cloth. 

He came out of the kiss laughing, needing air. You let out a laugh too, keeping your foreheads together. 

“I see you.” You whispered, still scared that if you speak too loud this dream will dissipate into the colours of Pandora’s jungle, floating away from you entirely. 

“I have only ever seen you,” Neteyam said, smiling. His silver freckles set alight from the glow of the Tree of Voices. 

Happiness was simple.

#avatar twow #avatar 2022 #avatar 2009 #avatar #neteyam x reader #neteyam #neteyam sully #jake sully #neteyam sully fluff #loak #loak x reader #loak x reader platonic #jake sully x reader #jake sully platonic #jake sully domestic #avatar domestic

[starkeysmoon]

MISSED YOU

paring: neteyam sully x omaticaya gender neutral! reader

summary: neteyam sneaks away to see you

warnings: none, fluff!

word count: 1.2K!

request: hi i have a neteyam request :) i’d like to read about neteyam sneaking out to see his secret gf, basically his rebellious era hahah, where instead of doing his duties he goes to see his gf and he is happier with her, not needing to be the perfect son (bonus if the sully family are shocked by his recent behaviour and then meet his gf)

a/n: hey lovely, thank you so much for the request! i’m thinking of making the bonus into a part two, hope that’s alright. (also! my orignal upload got deleted??)

it wasn’t in neteyam’s nature to act like this. disregarding his parents' orders and sneaking around to see you.

however, he couldn't stop thinking about you. especially the laugh that would fall from your lips when he made a joke, the never-ending smile he wore when he was around you, the warmth of your touch, and just the way you made him feel in general.

It was as if you had cast a spell on him that he couldn’t seem to break from, not that he was complaining.

all he knew for certain was that he needed to see you. as a result, he settled to complete his task as soon as possible. his parents, particularly his father, had instructed him to gather twigs and branches for the mreki u'lito (fire pit) tonight.

he hastily gathered the twigs and branches, tying them together before he placed them to the side of a tree and hiding them well. he made a mental note to himself that he would bring them back home later, as he was supposed to.

a sense of guilt filled his chest as he looked back to check on the now-wrapped twigs and branches. his hands trembled a little. his tail swooshed from side to side. debating if he wanted to go through with it or not.

neteyam knew he shouldn’t leave his duties unattended, especially as the eldest son of the family. his parents were counting on him.

he knew it was wrong and that they would be worried if he didn't return soon, but why did being around you feel so right? he let out a huff, shaking his head before walking in the direction of your meeting spot.

neteyam was approaching, walking quickly, but he paused. his ears perked up when he heard familiar sounds of laughter and giggles coming from south the direction of where you were supposed to meet.

he followed instinctively and was met with a surprising sight. you were playing with a plant, the helicoradian to be exact.

he watched you in awe as you touched the leaf, it coiled up and retracted to the ground in response. you let out a soft giggle before moving to the next one.

“(name)!” he called, a smile filling his face. you turned towards the sound of the voice, smiling, before rushing towards the young boy and immediately engulfing him in a hug.

he sighed in contentment at the warmth of your presence. his previous sullen demeanor completely washing away from his body. his hands moved down to your waist and drew you in closer. the two of you stayed like that for a few moments before eventually pulling away.

“that seemed like a lot of fun,” he noted, and you nodded your head in agreement.

“it was.” you answered, your smile widening. “so, what brings you here?” you teased, already knowing the answer.

“a certain someone,” he quipped.

“and where might that certain someone be, neteyam?” you inquired, a smirk now tugging at your lips.

“they happen to be right in front of me,” he says happily, you giggle at his answer as he takes your hands and places them in his own.

“so miss me already, huh?” you teased once more.

“more than anything.” he sighs, his thumb gently caressing your hand.

“you know, it’s only been a day,” you point out, and he laughs in response.

“and a day is already long enough for me to miss you, my love,” he admits, his eyes locked on yours.

your cheeks feel hot at his words and your stomach does a flip, almost as if butterflies had entered your stomach and were fluttering around. “you just can’t seem to get enough of me can you?”

he chuckles at your words. “yes, I truly cannot (name).”

you pull him in for another hug, burying your face in the crook of his neck, as his hands wrap around your waist gently. the two of you soaking in each other’s warmth and presence once more.

he always made you feel at ease when he was close to you, and you adored him for it. you peppered soft kisses along his neckline before gazing up to look at your boyfriend to find that he was already looking at you with a grin on his face.

“i see you (name),” he says softly, before planting a gentle peck to your lips.

“i see you too, neteyam.” you beam up at him, noticing how his eyes light up at your words and how you can tell they are filled with so much love and care.

“now, are you up for a quick game of who can close all the helicoradians the fastest?” he challenged with an annoyingly cheeky face, and you playfully roll your eyes.

“oh, you’re on, sully!” you say, rushing towards the helicoradians before you’re pulled back as a hand latches onto the end of your tail.

“hey!” you yelp, swishing your tail out of his grasp. “that’s not fair”

“I never said it had to be fair,” he says, lips curving into a teasing smirk.

“i’ll get you for that!” you threaten.

“go right ahead, (name). i’m right here” he taunts, holding up his hands as if to assert his innocence.

you launch your body onto him, causing the two of you to tumble onto the ground. the helicoradians shrink right under you as the two of you playfully roll around the forest floor trying to topple one another.

it’s a continuous cycle of either one of you on top saying a smug sentence before they get flipped over and their back’s pressed down against the forest floor and they are proven wrong again.

“willing to surrender now, (name?)” neteyam asks, noticing your somewhat tired state, his body now on top of yours pressing you down on the ground.

“no,” you reply, refusing to back down despite the obvious fatigue in your voice.

although your response confirms his suspicions, and he moves away from you before offering his hand, which you gratefully accept.

the first thing you notice when you’re back off the forest floor is neteyam’s body covered with dirt before your eyes flicker to your own.

you gently brush it off yet it does no good, as it creates an even bigger smudge. neteyam moves towards you and helps you brush off the rest of the dirt on your body.

“thank you, neteyam” you say, placing a hand on his shoulder, eyes full of gratefulness.

“no worries, my love.” he chuckles, his hand moving to place a braid behind your ear. your cheeks turn into a shade of pink at his motion.

“i really do love you, you know that?” you say, giggling. he nods his head at your words, “and i really love you too.”

the two of you turn around hand in hand to notice that the helicoradian field had coiled and shrunken to the ground.

you both end up bursting into a fit of laughter at each other's competitiveness earlier. “it’s a draw,” you exclaim, and neteyam merely shakes his head. “you wish.”

#neteyam #atwow #avatar #jake sully #lo’ak #avatar the way of water #lo’ak x reader #fanfiction #lo’ak sully #neteyam x you #neteyam x reader #avatar 2 #avatar 2009 #neteyam sully #neteyam fluff #neteyam sully fluff #neteyam x reader smut #avatar fluff #avatar x reader #avatar smut

[cordyce]

BY YOUR HANDS ALONE

neteyam sully x gn!reader

notes: this is silly & overtly fluffy & all over the place if i am completely honest rn. neteyam is a little flustered & probably ooc. sorry :’)

"there you are."

"here i am," you mirror back instantly, hardly sparing a glance up at the far too familiar voice as your fingers continue to work at chopping up some vegetables. it's a busy day—a momentous day. there is no time to waste.

"let me help," neteyam offers, already making moves to steal your knife from you as he steps to your side.

but you weave it away from his grasp, nudge him back with your shoulder and point the knife at him as you address him. "aht, don't think so," you differ, then continue your slicing. "besides, don't you have your own tasks to get to, mr. mighty warrior?"

days like this require a lot of preparation; everyone chipping in and doing their part so that it all gets done and runs smoothly. if even one person slacks off, it could cause a rift in sanctified plans. and that simply wouldn’t do. no, it would not.

"i have completed all of them, actually," he retorts, but he shrivels when you narrow your eyes up at him. "okay, almost all of them."

you scoff, let your pupils meet your sockets with a roll as you pry the truth out of him. of course, one of the most important days of the year and it is now that neteyam chooses to have an irresponsible whim. you aren’t sure what you’re gonna do with him.

"your mother will have your tail if she finds one thing out of place for tonight, you know this." it isn't necessarily a warning, but there is some tip-off in your tone. "you must get everything done."

neteyam hums, leans his hip against the raised wood that you are using as a makeshift counter. he says nothing, simply watches you. takes into account how you dice up the vegetables in front of you diligently before sliding them to the side with your knife and moving onto the next ones. his stare is driving you crazy—no one works well under pressure, after all.

it causes you to have a slight blunder; a misstep. you cut a pattern a tad too fast and send a slice of root tumbling towards the ground. neteyam's instincts are superb, quick, and he catches it before it hits the dirt. mumbling a thank you under your breath as he places it back on the tray, you find the heir before you still not making a move to speak.

you aren't sure why it unnerves you so.

"what do you have left to complete?" it's not the question you want to ask, but 'what the hell do you keep staring at?' doesn't sound quite as nice. so you settle on it.

you take a pause, a breath, to turn to him. throughout the years you have seen the eldest sully child wear many expressions. ones tainted by smiles, irritation, pride, devotion—but this one has you tipping your head in the most peculiar way.

because timidness is not something you think you've ever seen don the strong features of neteyam sully.

he carries himself with such an air of confidence; shoulders pressed back and chin held high—not arrogant, but undaunted. he does not shift gaze unless he is avoiding scoldings and he does not suck in his cheek unless he is fighting frustration. so, you wonder, what could possibly have his face contorted in such a reticent manner. if you did not know any better, you’d almost call his demeanor a rendition of shy. but that seems rather uncharacteristic of him, doesn’t it?

"ah—are you sure you don't need help with that?" he's deflecting, brushing off your inquiry like he hasn't heard it. and you can't decide whether you find that amusing or concerning.

he's making way for your knife again and you twist your arm to hold it out of his reach behind you. you eye him carefully, flit your gaze all around him to pick up on anything that you can that would explain his behavior.

"tell me." it's not an order, you aren't demanding, but neteyam nods his head like he's respondent of such.

"my father told me i needed a, uhm," he stutters, licks his lips, like he's tripping over his own tongue. and it's undeniable the way you see his ears twitch. "for the celebration tonight. i need a.."

"a what, neteyam?" you press, cock your brow up at him. you don't think you've ever seen him like this. never witnessed him so.. "you need a what?"

"a.. date."

so fidgety.

"a date?" you repeat with widening eyes.

"no, no not a—not a date really but i need someone for the—“

"the staining ceremony.” you finish for him, continue his sentence because with all his blubbering you aren’t sure he’ll ever spit it out.

he nods curtly.

the celebration tonight is for all the young warriors who have proved themselves throughout the calendar year as being strong willed and great protectors of the clan. neteyam, of course, is one of them. has been since he earned the right to be titled as such. so perhaps it should have clicked in your head that he’d be searching for a partner for the staining ceremony portion of the night.

but a part of you—if you’re being completely honest with yourself—just figured he had one already. events like this take weeks of planning; most warriors find their artisan a fortnight in advance. because it cannot just be anyone.

the partner one chooses for the staining ceremony must be someone with whom they feel a connection. some of the older warriors choose their mates. some of the youngest choose their mother or father. some settle for siblings. others, in brazen acts of outstretched hands, choose a mate unbonded; one who they harbor feelings for but have yet to seal such in the eyes of Eywa.

you cannot lie and say you had not pondered over who neteyam’s choice would be. a part of you thought he would pick kiri—they have always been so close and she has been his partner for such ceremony before. but, you are not deaf to the murmurs of your village, you are not ignorant of what has been passed from mouth to ear of all that will listen. there have been other… prospects who have been suggested to neteyam for this special commemoration.

your name has not been among them.

“well,” you continue, tear your eyes away from him and get back to the task at hand. there is no need to dwell on such things and fall behind. you have just one more batch of greens after this to prepare then you will be done and can walk away from all this. “if you’re here to ask my opinion on who your choice should be, i’m not sure i will prove to be much help.”

a shut down; a cut off. you’d like this conversation to be over as soon as possible because it’s making your fingers itch. you’re offering him a gateway to close the topic off.

but he doesn’t seem to get the memo.

“no,” he chuckles, now, and you can tell he’s shaking his head out of the corner of your eye. it’s breathy; like he’s punched it out of his chest and finally broken past the barrier of whatever flusteredness had him trapped before. “that’s not why i came to find you.”

“if it’s to convince kiri to sacrifice herself to do it for you again this year, i’m not game for that either.” you don’t understand why his laughter leaves you agitated, why this whole situation has caused an odd twisting in your gut.

“that won’t be necessary,” he disputes, “i do not need kiri to be my partner this year.”

your fingers fumble, your slicing stutters. “oh?” and you want to kick yourself for how your voice hitches. you clear your throat, bite the corner of your lip that neteyam can’t see. “convince some other poor soul to do it for you? is it zuy’nik? i know she presented you a kill from her hunt recently.”

neteyam hums. “no. i have not chosen zuy’nik.”

you grip your knife harder, focus carefully on the blade as you chop down on a bundle of leaves. your throat is dry, your heart is thundering. you feel silly.

“sënuul, then?” you question, do your best to sound as disinterested as possible even though your chest is burning to know who could be lucky enough to have been picked by the heir himself. “i hear many young warriors wish for her. they say she has delicate hands.”

your hands—in contrast—have grown tense; your chops near erratic. being this worked up over a man who is not your mate seems so futile, so nonsensical. if your mother were here to see you now she’d call you childish.

but is it so childish to want things your heart yearns for?

“while that may be true,” neteyam agrees with the sentiment, and that makes your stomach lurch, “it is not sënuul either.”

“then who is it? who could you possibly—“

a hand covering yours has you cutting yourself off. neteyam’s palm melds over your knuckles; stops your unsafe cutting and stills your wrist’s movements. before you can even bring yourself to look at him, calloused fingers are hooking around your chin. swiveling your head around, you have no choice but to meet his gaze. and it is not averting, not twinkling with tepidness like it was before. you think, for a moment, that’s because he’s passed the feeling onto you.

“i do not wish for any other partner in this clan.” and his voice does not waver, does not stumble, now. you swallow as you listen. “i came here to ask if you would do me the honors, for tonight.”

your tongue feels like cotton; the fuzz of it floating to your brain to make everything go static. this is.. not what you had expected.

you had expected to follow neytiri’s orders for preparing the food for the meals that would be shared. you had expected to dress yourself in the ceremonial clothing and jewelry you keep for these special occasions. you had expected to stand around the edges of the circle during the opening dance, serve food to the elders, and sit with a content tight smile as you watched kiri declare neteyam’s war paint for the third year in a row before the true celebration began.

you had not expected yourself to be standing face to face with neteyam, ears twitching embarrassingly sporadic, as he asks you to join him in one of the most intimate and important events of a warrior’s life.

and you suppose you can use that element of surprise as the reason why you find yourself a tad bit speechless while you nod dumbly. a wide grin cracks across his face, curves up his cheeks as he lets out another breathy laugh.

“thank you,” he murmurs, and he still hasn’t let go of your chin. “i was worried i would not get the chance to ask you in time. i was pushing it, but i tried to get all my other duties done as fast as i could.”

now that, the mention of time, finally knocks you out of your little lovesick trance.

“hey, wait,” you huff, shove at his chest lightly with your free hand. “you should have asked me sooner! i should have already had your stain pattern planned out, and—and now i have to go get all of your paints and i didn’t factor in the time for that. you’re terrible!”

“ah, i’m not terrible. i am sure you can just wing it,” he waves off, simpers like this is funny.

“wing it?” you gape at him. because he genuinely cannot be serious. “this will be your war paint pattern for the rest of the year. if it’s bad then you will be stuck with it. you want me just to wing that?!”

“why not? i have faith in you, i’ve put myself into your hands.” and it’s meant to playful, you know this, but the way he’s looking at you proves his words hold their full weight regardless. “don’t be mad at me.”

“oh, i’m mad,” you retort, brush him away as you get back to slicing because now you really do not have the time for distractions. “i cannot believe you have waited until last minute.”

“would you like me to ask someone else?” he queries, and you whip your head over to level him with a glare. “i mean, i am sure sënuul would be honored to be the partner of the future olo’eyktan.”

“you know, i liked you better when you were sputtering and nervous,” you spit back, retract your attention once again. “terrible. truly terrible.”

“ah, do not be mad at me,” he levels again, “what can i do to have you forgive me?”

“nothing. you will never be forgiven.” with no hesitation, but also no malice. your bite holds no venom, and your cheeks are still warm. such hypocrisy you spew.

“nothing?” he questions, and you don’t even have to see his face to know he is smiling. there he is again; the neteyam who holds his chin up high and taunts his brother into mindless games to prove his worth. you admire this neteyam; love this neteyam.

this neteyam grabs your face and tugs you forward before you can think of another mindless rebuttal to spout.

the kiss is light but fervent, and if you were a poetic person you might just say that his lips taste like future promises you already intend to keep. the fight drains from your body and you find no urge to bring it back. this neteyam seems to know how to quell you, how to dispel your frustration and wipe away your grievances like fogged up glass. so easy, so effortlessly.

he pulls away languidly, breath puffing against your lips. "forgive me?" he asks again, and you find yourself nodding before he even finishes the question.

he turns your head to peck your cheek then drops his hands to finally successfully steal the knife still held in yours. you tip your head, blinking through the daze to inquire what he's doing.

"i can finish that, you know."

"i know," he answers, then flashes you a crooked grin that has your stomach twisting in a way far different than before. "but don't you think you should start planning how you want to trail your hands over me?"

and, oh. part of you wants to hit him for that. but part of you wants to tug him in by the neckpiece he dons and get him to shut up by an alternative method.

as you reach forward to run your hand ever so heedlessly up his chest, a faux illusion of planning your mapping, you think you might just settle on the latter.

likes & reblogs appreciated !

#this is for my sweet matcha first and foremost <3 i hope u like it ! #also i TOTALLY made up this entire celebration thing LMAO #i jus thought it was a cool idea and super cute sooo #also. i rlly hope u don’t think neteyam is too ooc bc he is a bit. flustered here #BUT SJDHDN AHHH ENJOY #neteyam x you #neteyam x na'vi!reader #neteyam x reader #neteyam sully x reader #neteyam drabble #neteyam fluff #avatar x reader #atwow x reader #atwow fluff #avatar fluff #neteyam sully fluff

[fleurriee]

@pandoraslxna’s kinktober 2023

➸ day two!

pairing ; neteyam sully x fem!reader

summary ; when neteyam arrived home with an idea he’d heard from his brother, you hadn’t exactly been expecting this…

themes ; explicit content: pussy eating, neteyam absolutely loving his desert, dry humping…

The pleasure was almost too much.

It was the first time either yourself and Neteyam were doing anything like this, having previously thought sex was just your traditional way of doing it, and that was simply it. But, when Neteyam had come back home to your shared tent that night, a sheepish smile plastered across his lips as he told you about something Lo’ak had heard (and, Ewya only knows where he heard it from), your whole perspective changed on it.

The idea itself felt uncomfortable when he first told you about it, because why in Ewya’s name was your mate wanting to put his mouth down there? And, yet, the moment he had done so, pressing a soft, kitten lick to your most vulnerable spot, you began to realise why others did this with their mates, too.

Key word - the pleasure was almost too much.

You had never felt anything like it, and to say that you’d be wanting to swim in this sort of ecstasy for the rest of your existence would be an understatement.

Neteyam was a pro, working his mouth against your pussy, tongue swirling upon your clit in perfect strokes. It was hard to believe that your mate had never done this before, either, but, you weren’t complaining.

His tongue gave a sudden prod to your entrance, testing the waters and no doubt learning what had you keening the most. This, he found, was one of them. In an instant, both your hands subconsciously flew to the top of his hand, fingers grasping at his braids and holding him there, pushing him impossibly closer to your soaked area.

A chuckle escaped his lips at your actions, loving that he could have you reacting in such a way that made him hard, and he hadn’t even touched himself yet. He continued with the same movements, eliciting harsh grunts straight into your mound, which ended up sending your mind spiralling at the sensations.

“‘Teyam,” you moaned, a sound so unbelievably delicious to your mate, he wanted to hear nothing else for the rest of his life.

He could tell you were close, just by the way your eyes were shut tight, back arching up to the sky and hands griping harshly upon his head. But, the pain wouldn’t deter him, not when you were so close and he could feel himself entering a state of bliss, too, automatically humping against the air.

Picking up pace, Neteyam moved his head from side to side, mouth puckering and tongue doing wonders. The sound was so explicit and so crude, your slick all across his face and down his chest, but, nothing about it would bother him.

You were panting now; feeling your release so close to its peak, you were sure you were seeing stars behind your eyes. For a short second, with the all the sounds emitting into your ears and all the actions causing your body to tremble, you were slightly worried about anyone walking in or hearing.

But, then, Neteyam’s tongue prodded inside your entrance, and all your worries dissipated. Your release was more beautiful than you’d ever felt it, the knot in your lower stomach snapping blissfully as a loud, vulgar moan fell from your lips, no longer caring about anything else other than your mate between your thighs.

Neteyam slowed his movements down a little, helping you ride out such a guttural orgasm he’d just experienced with you. He continued to lap at your folds, drinking in all your slick and release. He could tell, too, how sensitive you were - just from one kitten lick to your clit, and your body spasmed uncontrollably from underneath him.

With deliberate movements, Neteyam moved away from your core and further up until he was hovering over you, his tongue licking across his lips as he gathered more of your essence for himself. When you were face to face, he placed two gentle kisses against your eyelids, watching as they fluttered open to land upon him, hazy and dazed.

“Are you okay, yawne (beloved)?” he asked, and despite the concern laced within his tone, there was still a smug smirk against his lips. Cocky, from the way he’d brought you so much pleasure.

Your voice was raw, too scratchy to speak any words, so you nodded instead. Neteyam leaned further down, this time, pressing a kiss to your lips, allowing you to taste yourself. Almost as if on instinct, loving the way your mate so carefully doted upon you - even after the vulgar things you’d done - your eyes fell shut once more, wanting to float away and relax back into his arms.

But, Neteyam seemingly had other ideas.

He chuckled again, causing you to find his gaze once more. Head tilted to the side, smug written clearly across his expression, Neteyam’s eyes drifted from your face, back down to your still sensitive pussy. “With how much I enjoyed that, I don’t think I’m done with you yet…”

#𝐅𝐋𝐄𝐔𝐑𝐑’s work ── ✎ #lunaskinktober2023 #neteyam #neteyam sully #avatar #avatar 2 #neteyam fluff #neteyam smut #neteyam x reader #neteyam sully x reader #neteyam x you #neteyam sully x you #neteyam x female reader #neteyam x fem reader #neteyam sully fluff #neteyam sully smut #neteyam x pregnant reader #dad neteyam

[moonlightsolo]

and i see you.

summary: after finally admitting your feelings to each other, neteyam promised a surprise for the two of you. an unfortunate emergency cuts it short, sending you into your first (and not last) fight with the sully family against the rda. 

pairing: neteyam sully x fem!navi/human reader

warnings: kinda suggestive, lots of smooching, fluffy fluff, mentions of a main character getting hurt, violence/guns aka the rda being assholes

word count: 4.4k

note: i’m sorry for it taking so long to get this out my mental health is MEH rn but i promise it was worth the wait <333

part one | part three | part four | part five

“oh great mother! neteyam, slow down! please!”your voice yelps out as your arms wring tighter around his neck. 

one of his hands grips the underside of your thigh to hoist you even closer to him, a laugh bubbling from his chest. 

“just hold on- i got you.” his deep voice coddles you, but is still laced with humor. “i told you that i wouldn’t be careful.” 

you can’t help but groan at his words, letting out another squeal when he slightly loses his balance and almost slides off the side of a branch. 

another laugh barks from his chest because obviously your fear is humorous to him.

your legs are wrapped around his waist from behind, ankles locked on his abdomen with your chest flush against his back. 

neteyam leaps to branches from tree to tree, swinging on vines through the forest with you attached to his back. 

when he told you he is going to take you somewhere special, you didn’t expect him to act like a syaksyuk. 

his sprints slow down into a jog as he stops by a thick log resting over a deep cavern. he takes a deep breath before scurrying across it to safety, over to a ladder that is nailed into the trunk and disappears up into the trees.

“what’s this?” you question, angling your head up in attempt to spot where the ladder leads to. all you can see is leaves and darkness.

“the surprise, duh.” he chuckles, bending down slightly to let you slide off his back. 

“you climb up first, i’ll be right behind you.” he taps your hip with a little smile. 

of course, the first thing that runs through your mind is that he just wants to get a good look at your ass, but you continue on. 

you grumble softly, peering up into tree before reaching out to grip the steps of the ladder to start your ascend. you refuse to glance down, out of fear you might panic from how high up you are. 

you realize there’s a little wooden trap door once you reach the top that you can push open. your head pops up inside a small room with windows, noticing a few handmade blankets and cushions thrown around. 

you can’t help but notice an open doorway that leads outside to the small wrap around platform that overlooks the vast expanse of the forest. 

once you stand up fully inside, you realize the room sits nestled securely in the branches of the large tree. 

“a treehouse?!” you scramble over to the window, looking out over the landscape of trees and clouds. wow, you’re really high up right now. 

you look back to see neteyam climbing up, a happy smile on his face once he sees you’re surprised. “what is this place?” you take a step forward to go outside, but his hand reaches out to cup your face and pull you towards him.

now all your attention is suddenly on him, and you can’t pull your eyes away. you instantly get lost in his round golden eyes. he grins down at you with his pearly white teeth, thumb gently rubbing your skin in circles. 

“before i tell you, let me kiss you for a bit. i’ve missed you.” his voice fans over your body like a warm blanket, sucking you in even deeper. 

“haven’t we been together since… uhm i don’t know- sunrise?” your hands slide up to rest on his sides, eyes scanning his face before he leans forward to shut you up.

every time you kiss him it feels like the first time. as if he knows your body like the back of his hand, like he’s been kissing you for decades. 

one of his hands finds solace in the dip of your waist. he gently squeezes the soft flesh there as the other angles your face up by pressing on your jaw, “you’re just so…amazing.” you mumble into the kiss, which makes him chuckle. 

something deep in neteyam’s chest constricts, your simple words have such an effect on him. 

something rather primal overtakes his senses, making him press forward to deepen the kiss even more. your feet stumble backwards from the increased force until your back is pressed against the wooden wall. he pulls back slightly to take a deep breath before coming back to kiss you with even more fervor.  

a hand slides down from your side, over the swell of your ass and to the back of your thigh. he easily lifts you up to his height, bringing your entire body in the air so your legs could wrap around his narrow hips. 

you pull back from his lips slightly, making him lean forward to chase your lips with his own. “wait.. wait. you still haven’t told me what this place is.” you giggle out, making his eyes look over your face in disbelief. 

“it’s an old omaticaya overlook tower,” he leans down to kiss you a bit more before pulling back, “used it for hideouts, spying…” he trails off as an arrogant little smirk forms on his lips. 

his hand cups your jaw, thumb swiping over your lower lip. he uses his finger to press down and pull it down as he leans down to kiss you again, “and things like this…” 

your breath hitches in your chest from his delicate touches, making your abdomen tighten and flutter. 

“so you’re saying your ancestors.. mated up here and now you’ve brought me here too, for what? the same thing?” you trail off with a little sly smile. you decided to tease him a bit, to see how he’d react.

neteyam yanks his head back, eyes wide as he looks over your face, “no, no.. i mean- i didn’t bring you here just for that. i- shit,” he hisses out and shakes his head, “i didn’t mean to, but it seems like that way, huh?” 

you can’t help but stifle a giggle, bringing a fist up to your mouth to cover it. the humor bubbles in your chest when you see his confused face, “why are you laughing?” 

“because… i’m just messing with you.” you cackle, letting your head fall to rest your forehead on his chest. 

he can’t help but laugh along with you. arms squeezing tight around your frame to hug you. “ah, lekye’ung ‘eve.” he kisses the top of your head before taking a step backwards. he lets your legs go, unraveling them from around his waist. 

you can’t help but look up at him, admiring his little smile and how he called you his ‘crazy girl.’

you could do without the crazy part, but being his girl is all that matters.

his hands slips into yours as he leans down to peck your lips, “let’s go outside.” he pulls you towards the doorway, ducking slightly as he takes a step out into the fresh air.

your eyes go wide from seeing how high up you really are. your heart thumps against your chest and in your ears, each breath constricting with every inhale.

your eyes dart around, noticing other floating mountains above in the sky along with puffy white clouds. you can’t help but look down, making your chest constrict with even more anxiety. 

a fall from this height is deadly, and this rickety deck under your feet doesn’t seem too supportive.

“it’s beautiful, but… imkindofscared.” you blurt out. 

“you’re scared? why?” neteyams smile falters as he turns toward you, eyes and facial expression full of concern. he looks over your body, seeing how you’ve pressed yourself flat against the siding. 

neteyam’s grin returns and lets out a little chuckle, “you’ve been on an ikran with me, and you’re scared of.. this?” he gestures with his head towards the view. 

all you can do is nod quickly, exhaling a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. 

“awwww, you little baby.” he teases you as his hands travel to your hips to squeeze them. your eyebrows furrow together from the name he called you, “not a baby.” you grumble, trying your hardest to not smile by hiding your face in his chest. 

neteyam throws his head back as he cackles loudly; the sound is heavenly, “suuuuch a baby.” he wraps his arms around your shoulders to waddle with you backwards inside the hut. 

you finally suck in a full breath once you’re inside again, your arms squeezing his waist tight. “i’m not a baby.” you say again, digging your head farther into his chest.

neteyam sighs in defeat, “okay, whatever you say…” he trails off. you can’t see the smirk that rises on his face, “…baby.” 

you groan and pull back from him, looking up into his face. “i’m seriously going to punch you.” 

“oh, yeah?” he cockily grins down at you as one of his hands grips your chin. he begins to lean down, aiming to kiss you but you slither out of his grip to stand behind him.

he couldn’t help but laugh as he turns around, “really? you’re gonna play that game now?” 

you nod as you bite your lip, staring him down competitively. he goes to step forward, but your hands go up in attempt to be ready to dodge him. 

in millisecond, neteyam flashes forward to twirl your body around and wrap his arms around your waist from behind. you let out a little squeal as he spins you around as your legs flail in front of you. 

he finally rolls to a stop, still holding your body up to his height so your feet were off of the ground. he presses a warm kiss to the back of your exposed shoulder, “my parents want to see you today.”

everything muscle in your body freezes up in his embrace, “why do they want to see me?” you squeak out, feeling your heart pattering faster against your chest. 

“they want to talk to you… as the girl who stole me away from hunting today.”

“neteyam…” you groan out his name in annoyance, “why would you skip hunting today to be with me? your parents must think i’m a bad influence on you.”

neteyam laughs wholeheartedly as he puts you down, letting you turn around to face him. 

his big round eyes look over your worrisome face, “mostly because i would rather be with you and they’ve known you since the beginning of time. of course, they don’t think of you as a bad influence.” 

“i know how your mother feels about my kind. i know what she says about kiri’s human friend behind his back.” your eyes drop to your hands that are resting on the points of his hipbones. 

neteyams body stills from your words, his hands grabbing your cheeks to angle your face up to you look at him. “you’re not like spider. as much as my brother and sister like him, you are a part of us. a part of this tribe; this family.” 

your breath catches in your throat, happy tears welling in your eyes. “ma neteyam… i see you.” you breathe out shakily, leaning forward to capture him in a tight bear hug. 

“and i see you.” his hand drags down the backside of your head, cascading down your hair. he twirls one of your many thin braids that hide within your hair. 

he presses a kiss to the top of your head, “i don’t ever want you to feel like you don’t belong. especially because of my parents.” 

a muffled voice makes your head lift from his chest, your pointed ears twitching as you focus in on where the sound is coming from. 

neteyam sighs, his thumb rubbing against your skin as his other hand raises to his throat to press on his comm device. 

“yes, i’m here.”

your eyes look up at him through your eyelashes, nervously chewing on your lower lip. he makes eye contact with you before answering again. 

“we’ll be there soon.” his hand drops from his neck, a soft annoyed puff of air falling from his lips. 

“it’s my brother. he’s in trouble. we have to go.” neteyam’s body is rigid under your fingertips until he pulls away from you to head back out to the balcony. 

you watch him as his hands cup around his mouth, a loud animalistic sound squaks from his throat to call his ikran to him. 

your eyes go wide when you hear the loud flapping of its wings and another screech from the animal responding to it’s owner. 

you muster up the courage to scurry outside to neteyam, his hand reaches out to help you climb onto his back. “i need you to hold tight for me.” 

neteyam’s words are icy, with no sort of emotion  as he stands up on the wooden slats on the edge of the overlook and steps off with no warning. 

your stomach does a somersault in your abdomen from the sudden drop. it feels as if your lungs collapsed, all the air wheezing out. instinctively, your nails dig into neteyam’s skin as you free fall through the clouds. 

suddenly the cold air whipping through your hair stops, and your fall is halted by neteyam landing on the back of his banshee. he swiftly makes bond with the animal and takes off through the trees, weaving and bobbing past the trees. 

your eyes squeeze shut tightly whenever the animal takes a sharp turn,  

“i can’t believe him. why would he do something so stupid!!” 

“neteyam, what the hell is going on?!” you yell out over the sound of the wind soaring past your head.

“my brother! he has kiri, spider, and tuk- goddamn tuk! she’s just a child and they’re surrounded by avatars with military gear.” 

your heart drops to your feet, eyes widening from his words. 

oh no. the sky people are back. wait, is your mother back?

neteyam drops lower to land next to his parents ikran’s on a tree. the sun above is starting to lower, the forest darkening below. 

he climbs off and grabs his bow off the side of the animal as he does so. after situating himself, he helps you off before walking over to his parents. 

“no, no. you stay with the ikrans.” jake says as he loads his weapons, barely looking up at his son.

you can’t help but feel neytiri’s eyes on you, examining you now as neteyams possible mate instead of the little girl who was left behind by her mother. 

“dad, i’m a warrior like you. i’m supposed to fight!” he’s starting to grow angry with his father, his eyes dart over to his mother for some help, but she scolds him softly with his own name. 

jakes eyes shoot up from his gun, looking directly at neteyam and then to you for a brief second. his eyes go back to his son, “i’m not going to say it again.” 

neteyam stands up straighter, shoulders flexing back slightly, “yes, sir.” he gives him a curt nod before twirling around, storming past you back to his ikran. 

you can tell that he’s upset with his fathers orders, but alas, he must listen to him. he is olo’eyktan, and toruk makto. 

you watch in silence, obvious strain on your face as his parents swiftly walk past you to hop off of the tree and into the darkness of the forest. 

you turn around to look at neteyam, and the look he gives you makes a chill run down your back. 

you’ve never seen neteyam this frustrated. only once when lo’ak did something and neteyam was screaming at him while chasing him through the tribe. 

you shake the thought from your mind, taking a few hesitant steps towards him. “‘teyam.” you breathe out, looking at how his hand is stressfully stroking the neck of his ikran. 

“i just don’t get it. they tell me to come here for what? to watch their animals? babysit?” he scoffs with a smile and a shake of his head. 

not the kind of smile that makes your heart flutter, but the one that shows you how furious he is. 

you reach out, gently letting your fingertips ghost against his bicep. your touch makes his head sharply turn towards you, his features softening once he realizes who it is. 

“i’m sorry. you deserve to fight and to help find them.” 

before he could answer, shouting and gunshots echo in the jungle making you wince in fear. neteyam pushes you behind him, the force sending you stumbling into the side of his ikran. 

he pulls his bow from over his shoulder, aiming an arrow as he inspects the surroundings. when you lift your head up, you can’t help but take notice to the flashing of guns shooting and yellow smoke billowing out from the foliage. 

“we need to go.” neteyam’s hand strongly grips your arm to swing you onto his back as he jumps off of the tree. he lets you down once his feet hit the ground, unsheathing his blade from his waistband to hand it to you. 

“whatever happens. stay behind me.” both of you glance down to your hands wrapped around the knife between your bodies. he gives you a nod, which you return before you both take off in a sprint towards the commotion. 

“demon! i will kill you as many times as i have to!” neytiri’s strong voice yells from somewhere above, making you and neteyam slow down.

“you and the corporal have been pretty busy, haven’t you? got yourself a whole litter of half breeds.” another man’s voice sounds from in the jungle. definitely not jake sully’s. 

a very obvious avatar creeps forward with a gun, unaware of you and neteyam standing in the tall grass behind him. 

you look up to where he is aiming, noticing that neytiri is hiding inside the branches of a tree. “neteyam!” you’re cut off by the boy raising his bow and sending an arrow right through the mans back hitting his heart.

another avatar appears from behind a fallen log with a heavy machine gun, “na’vi!” the man screams. 

neteyam struggles with reloading another arrow and before you could register what to do next, you’re both tackled to the ground and bullets are flying past your head. 

your eyes shoot open as you gasp for air; not knowing if you’re alive or dead at this moment. the force from hitting the ground had emptied your lungs, making your ears ring.

“go! go! go!” jake shouts at you and neteyam. your fight or flight response kicks in, causing you to jump up from your spot. a large hand presses against the back of your head to keep you ducked down as you sprint forward.

jake is behind you and neteyam, ushering you forward behind a tree. the wood splinters with every bullet that pierces the bark, flashes of light from their guns lights up the dark forest.

jake looks absolutely terrified as he checks over neteyams body and then yours, “are both of you okay?” his voice is loud over the gunshots. 

all you can do is nod as you suck in quickened sharp breaths, holding neteyam’s knife close to your chest in case you need to use it. 

“you both need to follow me. ready?“ his eyes dart around, “ready?!” he ushers out with more urgency. 

you nod along with neteyam, watching how jake steps out to aim and shoot at the avatars before taking off in a sprint with both of you following. “let’s go!” jake yells out, hopping easily over a large log as the bullets fly past your head. 

the adrenaline courses through your veins, causing you to easily leap over it, but the height on the other side was a deeper drop for you than expected. your ankles buckle as you hit the ground, a loud snap echoing from your leg. 

neteyam was right on your tail, leaping over your head and clearing the jump. the boy shouts your name when he sees you on the ground, stopping in his tracks to grip your arm and pull you back up to your feet. 

“let’s go! we have to go!” jake shouts as he scampers over to you both on the ground.

instantaneous pain shoots up your leg making you cry out and fall into neteyams chest, “my leg!” jake instantly realizes you’re hurt as he looks over your leg.

the man scoops up your limp body and starts to sprint forward with neteyam following close behind him. his breath huffing with each long stride, one of his arm’s supports your back and the other is behind your knees. 

the sound of bombs going off makes your blood go cold, praying to eywa that nobody else is hurt.

the bullets slowly fade away, knowing that jake and neteyam were fast enough to out run them. he jumps into a small clearing, coming face to face with lo’ak comforting a very emotional tuk. 

“are you okay? are you hurt?” he instantly goes into dad mode, gently placing you down against a tree so he could pick up his younger daughter. 

neteyam plops down next you, his chest rising and falling rapidly from the exertion. you can’t help but lean your head into his shoulder, wincing with every movement, “how bad does it hurt?” 

“i think it’s broken.” your voice whines in pain, squeezing your eyes shut tightly and biting the inside of your cheek. 

as an RDA ship lowers into the trees, the lights illuminate the jungle floor. the strength of its engines cause havoc. thankfully, neytiri and kiri emerge from the vegetation. 

she instantly scrambles to tuk, taking her daughter into her arms as jake brings the family into a group hug to console his children. 

“thank you, great mother, thank you!” neytiri exclaims as she holds onto kiri and tuk. 

neteyam soothingly rubs soft patterns into your side as he watches his family reunite. his other hand reaches across his chest to cup your cheek, bringing your foreheads together. 

“we need to get you back home.” he whispers before pulling back to look at his family, who are all staring at you two awkwardly. 

“let’s go.” neytiri stands up, holding tuk on her hip while kiri sobs into her mothers shoulder. is she hurt too?

jake unravels his arm from lo’aks shoulders to bend down to neteyam and yours level, “i don’t know whatever you kids got going on but we have to go.” 

jake gently picks you up, a cry escaping your lips from the unfortunate movement of your broken leg. 

“she’s hurt?” lo’ak looks at his father with wide eyes. the boys hands are obviously shaking from the events that have unfolded, “we need to get her to norm.”

the sully family and you slowly make your way back to the ikrans, painfully placing you into neteyams lap. making you finally get a good look at your leg that is purple and snapped right above the ankle. 

“don’t look at it. look at the sky. look at me.” he urges you as one of his hands holds onto the rein while the other supports your head. 

once you’ve landed back at camp, you’re pulled away from neteyam and into norms lab. he’s quick to work on you, bandaging your leg up with a splint and administering you pain medication. 

of course, neteyam was outside pacing the entire time after being kicked out by norm and max for yelling at them for hurting you. 

you overhear muffled conversation as norm opens the door to the lab, allowing neteyam inside. you can’t help but smile dopeily at at the blue man as he storms over to your bedside. 

he takes a huff of air from his pack, before leaning down to give you a soft kiss. one of his hands envelopes the top of your head, caressing your hair with a relieved smile. 

both of you take a deep breath in sync, your smile growing even wider from his presence. “there’s my girl. there’s that smile i missed.” 

“i feel so good right now.” you hiccup out with a little giggle, “norm gave me some stuff to help with the pain aaaand it’s definitely helping.” 

he can’t help but shake his head and chuckle at your euphoric state, his thumb softly rubs across your forehead which makes you purr like a cat. 

neteyam grins at you, before his face falls as if he remembered something terrible. “i overheard my parents talking.” 

your eyebrows furrow at his seriousness, gulping as your mind races with what he could have heard. something about you? is he not allowed to be seen with you anymore?

“my father… he wants to leave. he feels as if our family puts the clan in danger, and wants to keep us safe.”

that is not what you expected. 

your heart lurches in your chest, an instant lump forming in your throat, “no, no..” you breathe out and begin to panic, “neteyam, you can’t leave! you just can’t!” you attempt to sit up, but he gently pushes your head back down against the pillow and shushes you. 

“my parents want you to come with us. we’re leaving in a few days.” he smiles, almost sadly as if he’s silently mourning his home life. 

your eyes blow wide and all you can hear is your pulse growing faster as it beeps on the monitor. 

they want you to go with them… 

“where are we going?” your breath shudders. there’s no doubt that you would follow them to the ends of pandora. 

“the eastern sea. to the metkayina clan.”

your breath hitches in your chest. the ocean, you’ve always wanted to see the ocean… 

there’s some part of you that is excited to leave, but your heart aches for the only life you’ve ever known. this is your home; the omaticaya clan raised you as their own. 

you didn’t realize you were crying until neteyam’s index finger swipes under your eye, “it’ll be okay. we’ll be together, yeah?”

all you could do is nod through your tears, your lip quivering as your heightened emotions flood your senses. 

“we’ll be together. always.” 

-

tags: @k----a27s @aspenreadsfanfic @aliseaaah @bellwhether @xoxobabe @koalalafications @embersfae @mae-is-crazy @softhetixx @minkyungseokie @iwanttohitmyself @neqeyam

#neteyam #neteyam sully #neteyam sully x reader #neteyam x you #neteyam x y/n #neteyam sully x you #neteyam sully x y/n #neteyam x reader #avatar #avatar twow #avatar x reader #avatar x you #neteyam sully fluff #neteyam x omaticaya!reader #neteyam x human reader #neteyam sully x omaticaya!reader #neteyam sully x human reader #i see you series

[simpforboys]

meeting the master

neteyam sully x fem!metkayina!reader

summary: when neteyam gets invited to one of your famous parties, he’s not too sure why. he knows of you, but doesn’t know you. you change that.

warnings: fluff, neteyam checking you out, you checking him out

aged up characters ofc, not proof read

this is high key based off the great gatsby fyi🤞

“neteyam! you have to come to y/n’s party tonight!” mukata exclaimed.

he was one of the boys neteyam and his brother quickly befriended in awa’atlu.

neteyam’s ears twitched at your name.

everyone always raved about your parties, how charming and beautiful you were. but neteyam had never seen you.

the more and more he heard about you, the more it intrigued him. how can someone be so great to a whole clan?

that night, deep into the ocean on an island, neteyam disconnected his queue to the ilu. his feet hit the cold sand as he pushed his braids out of his face.

loud cultural music consumed his upturned ears as they twitched from the noise. there were easily over three hundred clan members on the island.

neteyam suddenly felt very insecure. he was the only omatikaya- standing alone- in the middle of a crowded party.

“neteyam!” mukata ushered the man over. neteyam silently thanked eywa for not making him stand alone any longer.

“isn’t this great? one of y/n’s best!” mukata commented, his almond eyes blinking quickly.

“very… lavish.”

throughout the night, neteyam sipped on a specialty drink that was made specifically for that night.

he began to wonder where you actually were. really, he just didn’t know what you looked like.

some metkayina girls approached neteyam, batting their eyelashes and flirting with him.

“have you met y/n yet?” leyra asked.

“i have not.”

“she is like royalty. if tsireya wasn’t the chief’s daughter, everyone would believe y/n is.”

“i’ve heard that she has eaten people.” eyrina said, her voice barely above a whisper.

neteyam’s brow bone raised as his ears twitched.

“don’t be ridiculous-“ leyra gently slapped her friend.

“i believe my friend is calling me,” neteyam dismissed himself. he needed fresh air- the party atmosphere was extremely overwhelming.

he pushed through some brush and found a woman. long curly hair cascaded down her back in a V shape, a fancy loincloth that had shells and pearls decorated on the waist. it hung low on her hips and jewelry filled her finned-arms.

“hello?” he asked softly.

you turned around to hear the voice that startled you. a tall man with broad shoulders and- it was one of the sullys.

the sully family had arrived in awa’atlu a few weeks prior. you blinked your eyes at him, your second eyelid showing as it took a second to disappear.

“hi.”

“getting some air?” he questioned you, joining you to stand by the ocean.

“yes, same with you?” you asked.

“yes ma’am, i needed a break from the crowd.”

you were beyond gorgeous. a flower was tucked behind your ear, purposely balanced on the flesh. you had big, doe eyes that sparkled in the moonlight.

it quickly made neteyam flustered.

his freckles were illuminated under the moon as you stared at him, the white dots seeming placed from eywa in a particular manner.

he was a very handsome man, with almost eight inches of height between your heads.

“i understand. who invited you?” you asked him, your voice gentle as you gazed down at his veiny hands.

“mukata, he said this would be y/n’s biggest party yet. although, i still haven’t met her. and really, i’ve heard so much about her yet i’m surprised she didn’t have a grand entrance to the party introducing herself.”

neteyam felt himself ramble, his eyes finally going to meet your face. you had a blank expression, one he couldn’t read.

“i guess i haven’t been a good host then,” you shrugged.

“what?” neteyam asked, his heart dropping.

you laughed at the man.

“i’m y/n, nice to meet you…”

“neteyam.”

“nice to meet you, neteyam.”

“ngaytxoa (my apologies), y/n, i didn’t know-“

“it’s okay, neteyam.”

you reassurance only made him feel a little better, however the overwhelming guilt was larger.

“no really, i-“

“neteyam, it is fine.” you placed your hand on his bicep, the muscle flexing under your touch. neteyam suddenly realized he was extremely touched starved and craved more of it.

a crimson pink made its way onto his cheeks as he looked out onto the ocean.

“do you want to know a secret?” you whispered, lifting yourself on the tips of your toes to reach his ear.

he softly purred, making your heart stammer.

“i do not really care for parties.”

neteyam turned to look at you, a confused look on his face.

“then why do you throw them?”

you shrugged at the man.

“if i don’t, then this island will remain boring forever.”

neteyam’s ears faltered as you turned to look out at the sea.

“i love the ocean and my home, but sometimes i need change.”

“like a forest?”

you looked back at neteyam to see him giving you a small smile. you grinned back.

“perhaps a forest.”

you and neteyam spent all night talking about your homes, the reason him and his family came to awa’atlu, and many other things.

the sunrise was quickly coming as you rubbed your eyes.

neteyam was laying on the sand next to you as you hugged your knees to your chest, continuing to babble on and on about your lives.

and while you two talked for hours, there was never an awkward moment. everything just felt right.

“i guess we should head back to the main land.” you suggested, seeing the fisherman off in the distance.

neteyam agreed, standing up. he offered you his hand, an electric shock going through both of you as your finned hand connected with his.

he was much stronger than you, his back filled with muscles. and sand.

“neteyam, you have sand on your back.”

without waiting for him to answer, you stepped behind him and ran your hands over his deep blue skin. the stripped patterns looked beautiful as you were mesmerized by his back.

neteyam accidentally let out a loud purr as you grazed against skin, making both of you blush.

“feel nice?” you teased, finally removing your hands from his skin (much to neteyam’s dismay).

the sunrise was dotting on your teal skin, illuminating your features as you stared up at neteyam.

in the beginning of his stay, he had yet to realize why you were so important, why everyone was obsessed with you.

but when he sat and talked with you, he soon found himself realizing just exactly why everyone adored you.

you were thoughtful, intelligent, cared for your people, funny, witty, and many other things he could not put into words.

and he began to think to himself if he could imagine being with anyone else, despite just having met you.

but when eywa calls, neteyam answers. and right now, he can hear a ringing in his ears.

#simpforboys #neteyam sully x reader #neteyam x you #neteyam sully #neteyam x reader #neteyam #neteyam x y/n #neteyam fluff #neteyam smut #neteyam sully smut #neteyam angst #neteyam sully x na’vi!reader #neteyam sully x you #neteyam sully x y/n #neteyam sully x metkayina!reader #neteyam sully fluff #avatar 2 #avatar #avatar neteyam #atwow

[lovemyavatar]

Songbird

Neteyam x Fem!Omatikaya!Reader

based on this request

Warnings: angst, fluff

A rough sigh falls from Neteyam’s lips, shoulders tense as he stomps through Home Tree.

His hands clench into fists at his sides, anger tightening his chest. He seeks you out before he even realizes what he’s doing, ears twitching as he listens for the soothing melody of your voice.

He finds you within minutes, sitting near the tree line by yourself. It’s how you prefer to be, isolated among the dense forest, humming quietly for only your ears to hear.

You are always making noise. Whether it’s the murmur of a song under your breath, or the soft rumble of a tune in your chest, there isn’t a time Neteyam can remember where you were silent. You always seem to be in your own world, big eyes faraway as you release the most beautiful sounds.

“Songbird.” The greeting comes out much harsher than he intended, but he’s still wound painfully tight from an argument with his father.

You jump, spine straightening at the unexpected voice. Your eyes widen as they flit over his tense frame, curious gaze finally catching his after an agonizing few seconds.

“Neteyam?” Your cheeks warm at the nickname he’d given you as children.

At first, you were a bit offended, being compared to a bird, but after much reassurance from him, you understood that it was just his adolescent brain’s way of saying he likes the way you sing.

He lets out a long breath, slowly folding into a seated position beside you. Without hesitation, you move the weaving supplies that previously covered your lap, setting them to the side. He doesn’t stop, fluidly laying his head down across your thighs.

It’s a practiced motion, a familiar position the two of you often find yourselves in. You know exactly what he needs, without him speaking a word. As he settles into your lap, shifting a bit to get comfortable, you begin humming his favorite melody.

His eyes flutter closed, shoulders instantly dropping in relief. Your voice washes over him, soothing his worries, his anger, within seconds. One of your hands moves to his hairline, fingertips drawing a gentle path down his temple.

You repeat the motion, soft touch trailing across his forehead, down his nose, over his cheeks. Even his lips, always pursed so tightly, relax and part beneath your warm caress.

This is how things are between you.

When Neteyam feels overwhelmed, burdened by the responsibility that’s been thrust upon him since birth, he runs to you. He can’t place when it first happened, when he first realized that you’re the key to keeping him calm. Keeping him sane.

But now that you’re his personal music box, he knows he can never go back. He’s reliant on it—on you. He needs the soothing sound of your voice to calm down after fights with his dad and Lo’ak, or hard missions. Hell, most of the time, he can’t even sleep without at least a quick song.

And you—his quiet, sweet girl—have never passed judgement. Never said a single word in opposition when he pulls you from duties, or friends, or even family. You simply send him a heart-stopping smile, let him drop into your waiting embrace, and sing.

That is, until one fateful day when he royally screwed things up.

He’d had what might possibly be the worst morning of his entire life. He woke to the sound of yelling, his father already grilling Lo’ak about his latest reckless behavior. He peeled himself from bed, suffering his dad’s leftover wrath as he demanded help with a raid.

It went terribly. His Ikran wasn’t listening, they barely made out with any supplies, and he nearly got himself killed. Of course, this led to more yelling, being grounded, and a light scolding from his grandmother as she patched him up.

By lunchtime he was so tightly wound, he knew the slightest push would make him explode any second. That’s when you showed up, singing your favorite song under your breath. Your face lit up when you saw him, despite the deep crease in his brow and downturn of his lips.

You plopped down beside him as he ate amongst the clan, humming quietly for the both of you. It was obvious he needed you, as he always did. You were happy to help, to aid him in any way that you could. Except, this time, he didn’t fall into you. He actually tensed further, broad shoulders bunching with irritation.

“Can you stop?” He barked harshly, catching you off guard.

You blinked up at him with big eyes, instantly falling silent. “What?”

He let out a rough sigh, narrowed eyes slicing to you. Anger tightened his chest, twisted his stomach with something ugly. He couldn’t help it, despite the tiny voice in the back of his head begging him to stop, to take a deep breath before his next words, he couldn’t fight the rising emotion.

“You’re always so—” He grunted with frustration, looking away. “Can I just get two seconds of quiet? For once?”

Your lips parted in shock, eyes rounding in his direction. He refused to look at you, jaw tensing as he picked at the food on his plate. You studied him for a long moment, heart clenching at his dismissal. Moisture blurred your vision, but you quickly blinked the tears away, refusing to cry in front of him.

“I’m sorry.” The whispered apology was all you could muster as you gathered your things and rushed away.

One week.

It takes Neteyam seven days to figure out that something is wrong.

At first, he thinks he may be getting sick. He just doesn’t feel right. Something is off, and he can’t place it. He’s tense at all times, back muscles painfully tight. A constant frown mares his features, brow creased with irritation.

He isn’t sleeping well, either. He tosses and turns at night, mind racing to find the cause of his unease.

He tries to talk to you, to spend time with you, but you’re always busy. The second you see him, you’re tucking tail and practically running away. He’s heard your song a few times, when he searches for you in those moments of heightened emotion, but when your eyes catch his, you fall silent. If he happens to spot you within the clan, your soothing voice is nowhere to be found.

It’s eating him alive, the fact that you won’t let him hear you. It makes him feel on edge, wondering if he’s done something to upset you. Or worse, the voice of doubt whispers that you’ve gotten tired of him, that you’ve found the company of another more appealing.

Finally, he can no longer take it, and decides enough his enough. He’s losing his mind, completely unable to focus on even the most mundane of tasks. He needs you to calm him, whether you’re previously engaged or not.

He spots you around the raging fire one night, talking and laughing with your friends. His now constant frown deepens, arms crossing in frustration as he approaches the group.

“Song—ah, Y/N.” He scratches at the back of his neck, cheeks warming with embarrassment. “Can we talk?”

The smile drops from your face, making his stomach churn with unease. Your hips shift uncomfortably, hands clasping tightly in your lap. Your shoulders round, chin lifting as you try to muster the strength to avoid him yet again.

“I don’t think—”

Before you can even finish, he’s grabbed your bicep, firmly hoisting you to your feet.

“She’ll only be a minute.” He calls over his shoulder, the assurance met with a chorus of giggles as your friends watch him pull you away.

“Neteyam—” You try, but he simply ignores you.

Your legs stumble to keep up with his rushed pace. He doesn’t stop until he’s dragged you into the forest, brought you to a secluded section just outside Home Tree. He suddenly turns on his heel and drops your arm, causing you to take a step back in surprise.

“What is wrong?” He demands, voice rough.

Your breath hitches at the intensity in his gaze as his eyes bore into yours. You sputter for a few beats, mouth opening and closing as you search for the right words.

“I-I don’t…” Your heart thrums wildly between your ribs, having never expected him to confront you so directly.

“You haven’t been singing. Why aren’t you singing, songbird?” His tone softens, eyes rounding with concern.

He takes a step forward, closing the distance between you so that he can reach out, cradling your face in his palm. You blink up at him, chest heaving with pent up emotion. He’s so close. Too close to remain platonic, but neither of you move an inch.

You force down a thick swallow, throat hoarse. Moisture blurs your vision as you remember his words, remember the way he snapped at you. Though you know you have a nice singing voice, you’re aware that the constant noise can be irritating to some.

You’ve seen the sideways glances, heard the scoffs and sighs of annoyance when you’re around. But you can’t help it, music is always in your mind, swelling until you can’t contain it anymore.

The only reason you’ve embraced it, continued humming and singing despite the occasional comment from the clan, is Neteyam. The way he relies on you, uses you for comfort, it gives you meaning. Gives you purpose. Shows you that your voice can do good, that it isn’t just some annoying quirk.

But then…

“Oh, songbird.” He coos gently, thumb swiping away a falling tear. “Tell me, please.”

Your chin wobbles with the effort of keeping the words in, of sparing him the details he already knows. Realization suddenly dawns as his worried gaze flickers over your crestfallen expression.

His eyes widen, heart crashing into his stomach as his own stupid words replay in his mind.

“Is this about what I said?” The question rushes from his lips in a single panicked breath.

“No! No, of course not, I—”

Before you can finish the lame excuse, his arms are around you. He pulls you onto the ground with him, settling you into his lap. Heat prickles your skin at the intimate position. Though you've been close many times before, it's always him laying on top of you in some way. Now that you’re the one in his arms, nervousness grips your chest.

“Songbird...” His large hands engulf both sides of your face, guiding it up toward his. “I’m so sorry. I never should've said those things. I was upset with my father, and I never should've taken it out on you.”

Your eyes widen, unsure what to make of his sweet words. “It's okay, Neteyam, really—”

“No,” His head shakes rapidly. “No, you don't understand. I'm a mess without you. I can't sleep, can't focus. Can't even fly my damn Ikran right. I need to hear your voice. Sing to me, please?”

Breath lodges in your throat, brows lifting in surprise. You’ve never heard him so open, so vulnerable. It’s left you speechless, heartbeat echoing loudly in your ears.

When you don’t respond, his hands wrap around your hips, gently pulling you off his lap. Your eyes pop wide, but you make no move to stop him as he guides you back until you’re propped against a nearby tree. His eyes flick to yours in question before he slides down, wrapping his arms tightly around your middle.

You stiffen, spine straightening as he presses his face into your stomach, laying his body beside you. One of his legs tangles with yours, parting your thighs so he can nestle himself between them.

“I just need a good nights sleep, please, songbird? Help me?” He murmurs lowly, the sound vibrating the soft skin of your stomach.

Your skin is on fire, blazing in every spot he touches. All you can do is stare down at him, mouth agape, but his eyes are already closed. Your heart melts, any lingering resentment crumbing at the sight of him so desperate on top of you.

You can’t stay mad at him, no matter how hard you try.

Slowly, quietly, you begin to hum a familiar tune. Instantly, Neteyam sighs, relief flooding his system. You’re a bit hesitant, after not singing for an entire week. Your voice is hoarse, but he doesn’t seem to mind.

Your hands fall onto his head, fingers tangling in his braids. He moans lowly, a soft tremor rolling down his spine. Your face feels impossibly hotter at his little noise of satisfaction. You’ve never seen him like this, so pliant under your touch.

Within minutes, you’re singing his favorite song, beautiful words washing over him. His breathing slows, eyes growing heavy as he finally feels at peace for the first time in days. Before you know it, he’s fast asleep.

You can’t help but smile down at him, fingers dancing across his scalp soothingly. Now that he’s back in your arms, everything feels right once again.

#avatar 2 #neteyam sully x reader #neteyam sully imagine #neteyam fanfiction #neteyam imagine #neteyam sully #neteyam fic #neteyam sully hc #neteyam sully fic #neteyam headcanons #neteyam #neteyam sully x you #neteyam sully x y/n #neteyam x reader #neteyam x you #neteyam fluff #neteyam sully fluff #neteyam angst #neteyam sully angst

[loaksbitch]

stepbro!neteyam pretty upset after he caught you flirting with rotxo and taking you far from the village and fucks you stupid. — (so y’all want more stepbro!neteyam content huh? alright.)

warnings – tw: stepcest, 20!neteyam, explicit, kinda mean neteyam, standing sex, you say no but you body betrays you, rough sex, spit kink if you squint, size difference, neteyam saying “mine, all mine, pretty girl.”, tummy pressing, possessive neteyam, marking-ish, finger intertwining/lacing because i find it so cute, kissing, biting… that’s it, so lmk your thoughts! wc — 1.5k

“want you to say my name.” — neteyam sully (⨳)

when neteyam suddenly said he wants to go hunting with you, you didn’t know he said he was going to hunt you. at least not until he has you pressed against one of the trees of the forest.

“ne-neteyam,” you whisper, a slight winch leaving you when you’re roughly pinned against the tree. “neteyam what’re you doing?” your voice was barely there, breath quickening with excitement but the man behind you only gave you a heavy grunt.

“you know exactly what i’m doing.” he spits, roughly tugging on your loincloth and untying it. neteyam’s mind was busy with thinking about what happened earlier. how you were silly enough to laugh and be touchy with another man after you both had an argument.

he never minded anything you did with the boys, oh no he really did not care but something was different about you today, especially when you kept glancing at neteyam before giggling and getting touchy with the boy you just met few days ago.

that fucking got him furious.

“neteyam…” you start but neteyam groans behind you, pushing his head into the crook of your neck and inhaling your scent. “don’t ask anything.” he spits, adjusting your hips before he was removing his clothes off of him.

“all i want to hear you is moan my name right now.” he was serious serious when he said it.

you gulp down your nervousness, feeling your step brother’s hand caressing your stomach sweetly, you were both far away from the village but it was still close to get caught. you feel him slip his way down to your slit and gently fondle with your nub.

you’re now grabbing on his wrist which only makes the man behind you lowly grunt to your hair. “what?” he asks, still rubbing on your clit. your eyes close, throat drying out from taking deep breath, “we can’t…” before you finish, neteyam stops you.

“yes we can, now fucking stop squirming.” despite your firm hold on his wrist, neteyam still manages to stroke on your folds, sliding over your clit.

“oh,” you mewl when neteyam grinds himself on your ass, “i want to hear you moan my name, princess.” your knees buckle when he keeps flicking, pinching and tugging on your swollen bud. “my name only.”

“neteyam,” you breath and your step brother nods, “that’s right, say it again.” you fulfil his desire, moaning out his name before you’re reaching behind and palming him. “oh fuck,” he coaxes, grinding his growing bulge to your palm.

“feel that baby,” he chuckles behind you, “feel how this fat cock is ready for you?” you whimper at his words. he was going to be the death of you. neteyam was big in your hands, you can feel how large he is and throbbing for attention.

you suddenly feel his large hand gripping your jaw and turning your neck to him. “kiss me.” he demands and you almost fall. neteyam chuckles, noticing the effect he has on you and how you would have fallen if it wasn’t for his tight grip.

you obligate, kissing him like you’re starving for him. neteyam moans to the kiss, a slight whimper leaving him.

you place your hands on the tree trunk as a leverage when neteyam grips your jaw as he kisses you roughly while his other hand was adjusting your hips in front of him. he slips his fingers out and stare at you when he’s bringing them to his mouth.

your eyes are lazily open when you see him lick his finger clean and leaning to give your open mouth a peck. neteyam smiles at your state, tucking your hair strands behind your ear. “you’re so pretty.” your heart flutters.

he was now telling you to hold on to the tree, letting you know he’s going to fuck you insane. “arch your back.” you hear him and and you do as you’re told. “that’s it, good girl.” you clench on air when he says that.

“i’m going to fuck you.” he tells you and you nod, “please” you whimper, making the man’s heart swell. he ghosts his tip over your opeing and you flutter your eyes shut. neteyam groans, “let me look at those eyes when i fuck you.” he lowly mutters and your inside tightens.

“neteyam!” you whine, feeling him teasing and circling the opeing of your cunt. “impatient girl.” he laughs which almost makes you lose it. “you want it that much?” he watches the back of your head as you nod shamelessly.

“how do you want it?” he asks and you’re fast to speak, “rough.” you gasp when you feel him fist on your hair, “yeah?” he promots and you nod, gulping down loud. “please netey— OOH!l you scream when he pulls you by your hair, sinking his cock to the hilt and going flush against your ass.

“you want it like this? yeah baby, you want me to fuck you like this?” he was snapping his hips violently, knocking every breath out of you. your one hand holding onto the trunk, the other reaches to his hips, slightly pushing him away so he could at least give you time to adjust.

“take it all, you asking for it.” his mind was in craved with the thought of you and rotxo. he leans to run his nose up and down to the side of your face. “you wanted me to ruin you princess, don’t push me away.” he slaps your hand away, his grip on your hair getting tighter. “nete!” you cry out, feeling him reach deep in you.

you feel the pulsing of his cock in you, hardening with every thrust he fucks into you. you roll your hips against him and neteyam’s ear point down. “ah, yes fuck yeah do that again.” he pushes your confidence and you roll your hips against him again.

“shit,” he looks down to when you both are tied, loving the way your slick nectar was all over him. “you’re so fucking wet.” he says, gripping onto your hips and pulling you to meet his thrust.

“you know how you ended up here?” neteyam randomly asks but you’re too tired to even say a word. “i’m talking to you.” he completely draws away from you, only his tip penetrating you. “‘teyam, please…” you beg, too focused on riding out your orgasm.

“you just can’t go around and tease me like that, not with a boy you just met.” he pulls you to him, making you forcefully fuck him back. your eyes are close again and neteyam hisses, “open your eyes.” you hesitate but eventually open them.

his amber eyes were staring at you, sweat rolling from his temple. you can see his white freckles glow under the dim of the sky.

“i want you to feel me inside you when you walk around for days.” he gently but temptingly bites on your ear. “remember for i made you feel when you ran away with your little boys club.” he moans to your ear as his hand that was on your hip slides to your tummy.

your pupil contrasts when he presses on your pelvis, feeling how he is grazing your walls with his girth length. his other hand that fisted on your hair lets you go, rubbing your shoulder before gliding his way to your small hand.

you feel neteyam lacing his hand with yours, fingers intertwined and pinning you to the tree. “i’ve got you, you can cum.” he whispers, reassuring you constantly that you’re taken care of.

“oh great mother.” you breathe when you feel him press harder on your tummy where his cock is bulging out.

“nete..i’m gonna—“ you can’t even say a full sentence when your tears are glistening and you’re cumming all over him. the skin slapping was getting louder as he abused your soaking cunt. “shit, i’m close.” he tells you, feeling his stomach tighten and ready to let go.

neteyam growls against your cheek, both yours and his hands laced to one another. “cum for me.” you give him a last push. neteyam’s brows were knitted when he pulled out, biting his lips when he spilled onto your ass, thighs and the grass you both stood on.

“this was amazing.” he says and you hum, too spent to even say a word. “you’re mine, you know.” he watches you blink, clearing your mind and freeing your hand from his grip. “all mine, pretty girl.” you smile at his words, saying nothing and deciding to clean yourself.

he watches you walk to the nearest shore and walk deep in the water before you start to move your arms and swim to the edge of the sea.

neteyam just decides to follow you, leaving his and your loincloth behind before going into the water you just walked in.

like + reblogs are super appreciated and not pressured! — i love each and everyone of you sm ** mwah &lt;3

#˖* ೃ࿔ mica’s avatar works!𓆉 #tw stepcest #double post cause why not #neteyam sully #neteyam #neteyam smut #neteyam sully angst #neteyam angst #neteyam sully fluff #neteyam fluff #atwow neteyam #neteyam ff #neteyam x omaticaya!reader #jake sully #jake sully smut #jake sully angst #jake sully fluff #neteyam x reader #lo’ak smut #avatar smut #avatar #atwow #lo’ak atwow #miles quaritch #shameless smut #loaksbitch

[jakexneytiri]

hi! I noticed ur response to my request just now!

I was wondering if u could still do that request? I can be more specific tho!! something more angsty like y/n feels like a bad mom and she starts crying. also u can include the nighttime and the baby won’t sleep and they’re struggling a lot as new parents <3 so neteyam let’s y/n sleep in the next morning and talks to the baby super cutely? tysm I love ur stuff❤️❤️❤️

heck yeah! ofc i can :)

⊱✿⊰ ⊱✿⊰ ⊱✿⊰ ⊱✿⊰ ⊱✿⊰ ⊱✿⊰ ⊱✿⊰ ⊱✿⊰ ⊱✿⊰ ⊱✿⊰

neteyam is cleaning up from dinner as you’re attempting to feed your son for the final time tonight. however, your son refuses to latch. he begins to grow fussy, arms and legs jolting around as he squirms in your arms. tears begin to prick your eyes, as your breasts grow uncomfortable, weighing down your chest from the excess of milk building up.

“come on, tsantu.” you coo, gently bouncing your newborn. “drink for mama.” you guide his lips to your nipple once more, hoping he’ll finally latch.

only he doesn’t. instead, he turns his head aside, and begins to wail.

“shh shhhh shhhh, don’t cry.” you hush him, rocking his small frame back and forth.

his cries grow louder as neteyam walks over, a cloth draped over his shoulder. holding his hands out towards you, he asks “want me to take him?”

your lower lip quivers as you look up at your mate. “he-he won’t eat, i don’t know what to do! i can’t not feed him, ‘teyam. but he won’t eat! w-why won’t he eat?” tears are streaming down your cheeks now, crying along with your son.

neteyam sighs. he feels awful, helpless even. he knows everything he’s feeling, you’re feeling twice as much, if not more. “let me take him. when he calms down, you can try again. okay?”

you blink more tears away as you hand your son off to your mate. “i’m s-sorry, ‘t-teyam. i’m an awful mother.” you bury your face in your hands, tears falling harder now as you break down.

neteyam is bouncing your newborn in his arms, gently patting his back.

“my love.” he kneels beside you, one hand reaching out to tuck your fallen braid behind your ear. “you are the most wonderful mother. you’re learning, no one gets everything right the first try. we’re learning, together. right? you and me? i’m right beside you, every step of the way. we will figure this out, together.”

you meet your mates gaze with tear-filled eyes. “together.” you agree, as he places a soft kiss to your lips.

you hadn’t noticed at first, but while neteyam was soothing you with his reassuring words, tsantu had stopped crying.

“ready to try again?” neteyam asks, waiting for your consent before handing your son back.

you take a deep breath in, as neteyam sits beside you. one of his hands cradles tsantu’s head, while the other wraps around you, rubbing your back gently.

“take your time.” he says softly, kissing the top of your head.

you give your mate a half smile before pulling tsantu close, leaving just enough room between him and your breast. you lean forward slightly, your nipple just grazing your son’s lips. he turns his head, opening his mouth to finally latch.

you turn to look at your mate, relief washing over you as you both watch him feed. neteyam continues to rub small circles in your back, kissing the top of your head every now and then. “you’re doing great, mama.”

once tsantu is finished feeding, neteyam carefully scoops him up in his arms. “i will put him to bed. lay back, relax, please. get some sleep, my love.” he plants a kiss to your forehead, thumb brushing your cheek as he helps you lay back.

your eyelids immediately droop, exhaustion setting in. you curl up on your mat for the night, taking only a few moments to fall asleep.

neteyam gives you a half smile, before turning his attention back to tsantu, who is also asleep now. he settles his small body in between the two of you, as he lays down for the night.

“goodnight, my loves…” he kisses both of your foreheads, before making himself comfortable.

⋆｡ ﾟ ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ ☾ ﾟ ｡⋆⋆｡ ﾟ ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ ☾ ﾟ ｡⋆⋆｡ ﾟ ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ ☾ ﾟ ｡⋆

after a few peaceful hours of uninterrupted sleep, tsantu wakes. it starts off as innocent babbles, but they grow louder. soon, the babbles turn into cries.

you sit up, yawning as your eyelids are half open. neteyam wakes too, rubbing his eyes. both of you are exhausted, having barely gotten any sleep. neteyam goes to pick up your son, cradling him in his arms before handing him off to you.

you shift the feathers that are draped over your chest, moving them aside to free your nipple. tsantu is quick to latch, his plump lips immediately drawn to your breast as he feeds.

when he finishes, his lips fall from your nipple, heavy lids drooping as he falls asleep within minutes. neteyam takes him from your grasp, cradling him in between your bodies. his thumb rubs your cheek gently, as he gazes over your sleepy form. “get some sleep, beautiful. i love you.”

your hand reaches up to cover his, as you close your eyes. “mmm…iloveyoumore…” you mumble, falling back asleep.

⋆｡ ﾟ ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ ☾ ﾟ ｡⋆⋆｡ ﾟ ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ ☾ ﾟ ｡⋆⋆｡ ﾟ ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ ☾ ﾟ ｡⋆

tsantu is first to wake, naturally. his babbles growing loud enough for neteyam to hear, rousing him from his sleep.

“what’s that, my little warrior? hm?” he gently picks tsantu up, planting a kiss to your forehead before walking him over to the front of your marui. neteyam grabs the sling you both use to hold tsantu to your chest. carefully, he slips tsantu’s tiny arms and legs through the sling.

tsantu kicks and pats his hands against neteyam’s chest, babbling happily.

“oh, is that so?” neteyam asks, like he understands exactly what tsantu is saying. tsantu giggles, squealing happily as his tiny hands hit neteyam’s chest.

“you love mama? i love mama too.” he glances over at you, sleeping soundly on your shared mat. “how about we cut some fruits for her to have when she wakes, hm?”

#dad!neteyam #dad neteyam #daddy neteyam #dilf!neteyam #neteyam x reader #neteyam x y/n #neteyam x omaticaya!reader #neteyam smut #neteyam sully smut #neteyam x na'vi!reader #neteyam x you #neteyam sully x y/n #neteyam sully x reader #neteyam sully x you #neteyam fluff #neteyam sully fluff

[loveforneteyam]

❝your mighty warrior❞ ( I. )

golden eyes

summary: you never thought you'd see your lover's golden eyes again. and when you did, he didn't recognize a single part of you. pairing: neteyam x omaticaya!reader wordcount: 2.8k contains: angst, major spoilers for atwow, mentions of character death, blood, memory loss, sad guilty lo'ak, lo���ak x reader is platonic! notes: the first part, here we go! if i get things with the timeline messed up just ignore it haha. my heart breaks for lo'ak in this, but i hope you all enjoy!

paskalin : term of endearment oeyä tìyawn : my love tanhí : small, bioluminescent freckles

masterlist | series

The water is still in the night. Its chaos—violent waves that crash and collide—disappears once the darkness blankets over the sky. The surface of the water reflects the stars, small freckles of light in the face of the ocean. Although gentle tides push and pull, the vast sea is silent as it sleeps.

There is a beat to be heard; a pulse from under the water, under the ocean floor, from the very core of Pandora. A strong, mighty rhythm that shakes the ground. But this heartbeat does not come from the Great Mother.

In the quiet of the night, the reflection of the sky in the ocean is disrupted. Calloused fingers break through the barrier, reaching past the thin veil. He grasps the air like a rope. The crown of his head splits the sea in half. The moon pulls him to her; his body, strong and powerful, ascends.

──

It was his mother who pressed his eyes closed when they were void of life. The blank face of your lover glared into your soul. The grip he had on your hand--desperately clinging onto you like it would heal the hole in his heart--vanished, and you were left to imagine his fingers were still intertwined with yours.

You remember the wave of realization on his father's face, how his ears slightly dropped and his bottom lip quivered when he noticed that the bullet had gone straight through his eldest son's chest. Crimson collected in his shaking palms. You knew then that there was nothing to be done. Nothing except to sit next to Neteyam, your prince, as his soul moved onto the Great Mother.

His funeral was inevitable. After the war was over, it was time for the Suli's to say goodbye. You stayed with his brother, Lo'ak's hands placed in yours, as Neteyam slowly sank deeper towards the ocean floor. His frame became smaller and smaller, until he was completely engulfed by luminescent tendrils. Your lover was no more.

The family struggled to carry on without him. You remained close with his siblings, thankfully. Kiri mourned by your side. For a time, it had been just her and Neteyam. He was born less than a month before her and she considered him to be her twin. Tuk was young, but old enough to understand, “He is with Eywa”.

Lo'ak, however, was almost never to be seen. If you managed to catch a glimpse of him, he was silent and reclusive. He even ignored Tsireya, who asked you multiple times if he was alright; you never had an answer.

Despite your great loss, the village of Awa'atlu continued on. Every morning, the fishermen and farmers rose early, the healers prepared their supplies, and the hunters readied their ilus to dive through the sea.

Life continued on as if Neteyam's soul had never been ripped out of your blood-soaked hands, as if his eyes had never looked their last to you. It broke your heart.

──

Although Jake Suli had finally recognized his youngest son for his true potential, it was too late. Lo'ak put the blame for Neteyam's death on himself. He accepted that he would forever carry that weight with him, no matter where he ran to or hid.

You knew that when he was nowhere to be found, he was somewhere far off in the sea on Payakan's fin. He stayed out late and missed ceremonies and Suli family meetings; it was Neteyam who always pushed Lo'ak to participate. But even when he laid underneath the stars on the back of Payakan, the ocean water gently lapping at his skin, the guilt still sat in his chest like the bullet in Neteyam's heart.

Without his older brother, Lo'ak ceased to exist. He refused to meet his eyes or even speak to his mother. He made himself an outcast before his family could. You recognized that the void in Lo'ak's life was the same one tearing you apart, so you felt that it was your responsibility to look after him.

"We must be strong," Neteyam had told you the night you left your home in the forest. You said goodbye to your family to be with him. He'd placed his palm over your heart. "In here."

It was eerie how you could still feel his touch as if he were right in front of you. Neteyam would've wanted you to stay strong for Lo'ak, and you would do anything to honor your mighty warrior.

Unfortunately, looking after Lo'ak wasn't easy when you could never find him. Two days had passed and you hadn't seen him once. You knew not to worry--Kiri noticed your concern and said she'd seen him with his tulkun just outside of the reef. "He didn't seem like he wanted to come back."

By that night, you'd given up. After a great feast held for the birth of Tonowari and Ronal's child, you separated yourself from the others and sat alone on a far-off shore. The ocean life illuminated the darkness around you, small specks of teal and gold light scattered in the water. Your feet had sunk into the wet sand as the calm waves kissed your ankles.

While the ocean held many wonders that continued to fascinate you, it left a bitter image burned into your memory.

There was fire off in the distance, gunshots and explosions, but they were all the least of your concern. You shook as you held his body in your arms. The water had turned violent, as if the Great Mother knew of the war taking place. Sharp, chaotic waves crashed against a rocky landing. Crimson pooled in the grooves of the rock, running down the sides to where it diluted in the vast sea.

You never allowed yourself to remember anything past that. The ocean had not redeemed itself just yet. You pulled your knees to your chest so your feet were out of the water. The silence of the night would never be peaceful; if it was quiet enough, you could still hear his voice in your ear.

Fortunately, the silence broke. Soft footsteps in the sand were trailing towards you, and wide, golden eyes met your small frame. Lo'ak had not expected you so far away from the village, alone, at night. "(y/n)," he froze. "What're you doing here?"

"Lo'ak," you let out a breath of relief that you'd been holding for the past few days. You stood and brushed the sand off of your legs. "I've- We've been looking for you. Your mother and father have been so worried."

He frowned at the mention of his family--of his father. He refused to even imagine what they could possibly think of him. "I was just out," Lo'ak tried to dismiss the topic and swiftly walked past you, his shoulder barely brushing yours. "I'm fine."

The remnants of your heart cracked once again. Even when a hand reached out for him, grasping onto his fingertips, he'd pull away. The fear of rejection--the thought of placing his trust in someone with only betrayal in return--was too great. Lo'ak would abandon others before they could abandon him.

"Lo'ak, please." your hand gently grabbed his shoulder to turn him back to you. He stood a few inches over you and refused to look down to meet your eyes.

There was a soft spark in his chest, and you could see the flame beginning to grow. "What do you want, (y/n)?" He retorted with a sigh.

"You know what it is, Lo'ak." You brushed your hand down his arm to meet his palm. You placed his own hand on top of his heart. He sighed, breath laced with heavy regret and guilt. Lo'ak knew that whatever he'd been hiding for the past few months would be coming up right there in front of you.

He practically collapsed onto the sand, feet set in the water and arms wrapped around his legs, but he quickly pulled himself away from the shore, just like you had earlier, once the memories began to feel too real. You sat right by his side and looked off to the dark horizon. The two of you stared with broken hearts. "Have you gone to see him?"

There was silence, apart from the gentle lapping of the waves and the village in the distance. "No," he regretfully looked down at his lap. "Have you?"

You shook your head, "No." Your response wasn't much better.

For as much as the two of you missed him, neither of you had gone to the Spirit Tree like the rest of the Suli family. The only images of Neteyam that you had left were the memories still burned into your vision. “I’m afraid to forget him,” Lo’ak admitted. He bit the inside of his cheek. “But I’m too scared to see him again.”

You looked to him with sympathetic eyes. For the first time since his brother’s death, Lo’ak broke. Three tears left a trail down his face to where they dropped off his skin and onto the sand. “I don’t know much about spirits,” you began. You set a firm, reassuring hand on Lo’ak’s shoulder. “But Neteyam loved us with all his heart. Even as he rests with the Great Mother, he loves us.”

He tried to nod along to your words as if he would better believe them. Lo’ak gently gasped before a quiet, broken sob left his throat, “I know it’s my fault.” His shoulders heaved. “If I hadn’t made him go back for Spider or- or if I stayed behind instead of him..”

“Oh, Lo’ak,” you cooed, turning towards him and engulfing him in a hug. He leaned his forehead down onto your shoulder. This was the first comfort he’d felt in months. “We can’t tell ourselves those things.”

His tears collected on your skin. “My brother,” he whimpered, “is gone.”

Your fingers gently caressed the back of his head, tracing over his braids. You shushed him, “There’s nothing we can do.” How could you affirm this to Lo’ak when you couldn’t even accept it yourself? You pulled away so you could look him in the eyes.

“I miss him too much.” Lo’ak wept.

Holding his face between your gentle hands, you nodded. Together, your tears soaked the sand beneath you; the two of you could’ve created an entire ocean. “I miss him, too, paskalin.” Your thumb soothed cheek and wiped away the tears from his eyes. “But we must stay strong for him.

“All we can do is remember. One day, we’ll be strong enough to see him, I know it. But for now, we must be strong,” You put your hand over his heart. The beat of his soul turned steady; you remembered how Neteyam’s slowed to a stop, and for the first time since his death, you pushed the memory away without a single tear. “In here.”

Lo’ak closed his eyes and calmed his breath, allowing the feeling of your palm on his skin to soothe him. He’d opened himself and poured out his heart. Now, he could heal.

The night continued on, and you stayed with Lo’ak throughout the dark reign. He could take however long he needed. You would comfort him through whatever war he created in his mind. The tide came in, brushing water against your knees, but the two of you remained.

Finally, he opened his eyes. “We should return to the village.” Before, Lo’ak spoke bluntly with a dismissive mask to cover how broken he truly was. Now, his voice was firm and strong.

“Are you sure?” You warned. He stood and you cautiously rode with him.

His hands, which had been balled in tense fists, released themselves. Lo’ak nodded, “I’ve been too focused on my brother that I’ve forgotten the rest of my family. Do you think they’ll forgive me?”

With a sweet, proud smile, you offered, "They already have."

──

The path back to the village was peaceful given that you and Lo'ak had come to terms with your grief. He had warned you that his parents would most likely be angry when you returned since it'd been hours since they'd last seen you and days since they'd seen him. You'd consoled him, "We'll get through it together."

It was strange that in Neteyam's absence, you and Lo'ak were able to replace the void with each other. Although he was only a year younger, you'd always felt a sisterly love for him, the same way that you felt for Kiri or Tuk. Now that your connection with Lo'ak had healed, maybe you could too.

Life ahead was beginning to look a little brighter in that moment as you walked on the shore.

But your peace was short-lived.

The village was close enough that you could see the pods, docks, and several Metkayina men with glowing lanterns that noticed you and Lo'ak approaching. They called out and, together, the two of you rushed to them.

"What is wrong?" Lo'ak prodded, trying to look past their broad shoulders at the commotion that was collecting in the village.

You tried as well but they were too tall compared to you. "You must come with us," one of the men said. The flames in the lanterns gently flickered but you could well enough see Kiri running in the distance. Her eyes were wide with fear like she'd seen a ghost.

"Kiri!" You exclaimed.

She pushed past the men and, out of breath, embraced Lo'ak. "Brother!" There were tears falling from her eyes, only you had expected her to happily cry at the sight of Lo'ak. Instead, she wept. "You must come. Come, (y/n)."

Kiri led you both back to the village, the men following after you to provide light. Almost every person in Awa'atlu--man, woman, young, and old--crowded near the shore. They yelled and gasped, cursing and praying. The three of you struggled to push past everyone, accidentally stepping on tails and toes and bumping elbows and shoulders.

Everyone seemed to look at you and Lo'ak with sympathy. Lo'ak sensed it as well, and looked just as confused as you were.

The crowd was like a hurricane, and in the center, the eye was calm. Jake and Neytiri kneeled on the ground, Tuk crying into her father's arm. Tonowari, Ao'nung, and a collection of soldiers held the people back. Ronal sat across from Neytiri, muttering a prayer with her eyes shut. Kiri ran to her mother's side. Tsireya rushed to Lo'ak as he collapsed.

Your heart stopped.

On the ground, where the ocean met the sand, a figure laid. He had strong legs and arms, a strapping abdomen, and calloused palms and fingers. There was a scar on the outside of his right thigh. Tanhì scattered across his body like the constellations reflected on the ocean.

Your prince. His ghost would forever haunt you. What had you done wrong? What had you done for the Great Mother to curse you like this? Just as you could feel your wounds beginning to heal, your heart crumbled again.

You fell to your knees, placing your hand over your mouth to cover the ear-splitting wail you released. You could fully see your Neteyam now. Just as you had remembered it, but his eyes were gently shut. Neytiri cried alongside you, and your heart almost broke even further until you heard her whisper, "Thank you, Great Mother. Thank you."

What was she grateful for? Jake noticed your confusion, and with a hopeful smile, he took your hand and placed it on Neteyam's heart. Underneath the weight of your palm, you felt a gentle pulse. A steady, soft rhythm that rocked your core. Your tears stopped, a cry stuck in your throat.

You looked down to his body and gasped. "Oeyä tìyawn," you whispered out to him, hoping he would hear it. Through just two words, your voice called out to him.

Golden eyes, that you thought you would never see again, opened.

His father gasped; his mother laughed; his sisters cheered, and his brother bowed with his forehead touching the ground. Neteyam's mighty heartbeat reached across Pandora.

"Ma 'Teyam," you smiled. You could taste your own tears as they reached the corners of your mouth. For the first time in months, you weren't crying from a split in your heart--you cried at the feeling of it healing. You were foolish to think the Great Mother would curse you. "Thank you, Great Mother."

Only two minutes had passed until you noticed the laughter and cheers of others had disappeared. The night had become silent again. Your smile fell when you recognized that Neteyam had not yet embraced you. In fact, he stayed frozen on the ground.

His eyes were still open, but they were wide and full of fear. Tuk reached for his hand, and he quickly pulled away with a scared gasp. He flinched when his own mother caressed his cheek. "Neteyam," she pleaded. Finally, his eyes met yours. You looked to him with desperate affection, practically shooting beams of love towards him. Your stomach dropped when you noticed it.

Your prince did not know who you were.

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[starvine]

☾ ⋆* kiss it better

pairing: neteyam sully x fem!omaticaya reader

genre: fluff, angst

synopsis: all you wanted to do was serve your people. however, when you get injured, your mission is cut short. neteyam insists upon patching you up and decides to explain his concerns for your well-being and future together.

warnings: battle stuff, guns, blood, battle injuries, medical jargon, stitches, minor swearing (?), allusions to mating/sex ig, aged-up neteyam

word count: 7.9k

notes: IT’S HERE! i’m very excited to have started writing again, and although i’m very casual about when i write, i hope to be somewhat consistent lol. enjoy this for now, i have more planned for the future! i hope you all enjoy, pls reblog/comment/etc if you feel so inclined <33

The air was tense today, thick with disciplined focus as you keep your ears alert for any incoming airships. Reeking of smoke and burning metal, a scent that is foreign and unpleasant to your nose, you remain aware of everything and anything. Gray clouds billowing and a pungent smell that cling to the back of your throat like a hand with a vice grip—nothing was natural. 

Tilting your forehead forward, you hope your visor, decorated with teeth and interwoven pieces, will shield your eyes from the wind. You hold your bow tightly, the wood smooth against your fingers as you use your other hand to guide your ikran swiftly through the air. 

“Calm, calm,” you soothe her, tapping your fingers along her strong neck. 

You’re anxious today. Not because of the imminent arrival of the Sky People, their ships ready to fire metal bullets at you at any second; you’ve dealt with that many times before. No, the reason you’re nervous is because of Neteyam. 

Today is Neteyam’s first day participating in the raid—well, his first raid on the ground with his father’s permission—rather than being a part of the aerial surveillance team. You tried to insist that you should accompany him, but, due to his wishes, you remained in the air beside his mother. 

 “Do you see anything yet?” Neytiri’s voice asks over the intercom. 

Bringing your fingers to your throat to press the responding button, you reply, “Nothing yet.” 

“I’m going to fly down to help gather some of the gear. You stay here,” she orders, raising her bow to signal that she and her ikran were descending. 

“Let us know if you spot any bogeys. We’ve got some heavy-duty gear and need as much time as possible,” Jake informs you over the intercom. 

“Roger that, sir,” you say, steering your ikran closer to where the enemy would most likely be approaching. 

Ears twitching back and forth, you attempt to pick up the whir of an aircraft amongst the orders commanded, the creaks and minor explosions occurring from the Meg-Lev train your people have intercepted, and the wind blowing past you. You hope that maybe you could track a scent, sniffing the air a couple of times to no avail. It’s all smoke and metal. The skies were calm, except for your ikran’s screeching, however, they couldn’t be for long. There was no way those demons would allow your people to escape that easily. 

“Hey,” Neteyam breathes over the intercom, a slight huff of your name. You could hear the smile on his face. “How’re things looking up there?” 

“What happened to using my code name?” you question, peering over your ikran in an attempt to find him along the ground. “I’ll tell you if I see anything. I know how to do my job, you know.” 

“Just double checking,” 

You scoff, guiding your ikran to the right. “Maybe you should focus on gathering all of the gear instead,” 

“Oh, really? Maybe you should-”

Suddenly, your ears flex forward, focused on the faint whirring of something mechanical and man-made; something that was not naturally occurring within your world. 

“Airships spotted! Everyone, move!” you shout over the intercom. You yelp out into the open air, pumping your bow in tandem with the three shouts you release to alert your fellow brothers and sisters in battle. 

Just as people begin clambering for their ikrans and direhorses, the two Scorpions start firing. The relentless pop of military guns fills your ears, causing your tail to swish frantically and your ears to perk forward. 

Using a high pitch, you signal for your ikran to dive, swooping up and under the two fighter pilots. 

“Do not engage! I repeat, do not engage! I want minimal casualties today,” Jake commands over the intercom, the background full of shouts and grunts. 

“Jake, I’ve got to take out these two airships. They’re already taking down ikrans,” you spoke, peering up at the airships as you stealthily soar below. 

Just then, Neteyam responds. 

“No! Listen to my father, do not engage. I can lead the people to safety,” 

“There won’t be any people to lead if I don’t take these airships down.” 

Neteyam groans your name in warning, the sound of shouts heard from all around. “Would you listen for once?” 

Jake barks your name, frustrated and frantic. “Get out of there! Get back to the High Camp!” he orders. You begin mapping out the plan of your attack. “That is a direct order!”

“I’m sorry, Jake,” you respond, ignoring all that comes after. 

Your ikran shoots straight up into the air, coming close to the tail-end of the Scorpion gunship. You arch over the top of the gunship, upside down and looping over to the front side. The sun high in the sky and its beams creating a glare on the glass makes it difficult for you to spot the pilot. Upon finding his location, you draw the string of your bow taught, ready to fire. 

“Incoming! Enemy on-”

You shriek upon release. The arrow flies straight through the glass, nailing your target right in the chest. 

The gunship begins to tilt forward, preparing for its decline. As a hunter and warrior, it was your duty to pay respects to the creatures you killed in order to sustain the way of life. Kneeling over them, declaring your thanks, and wishing for their safe return to rest amongst the Great Mother was a sacred practice. However, as the gunship crashed and blew up in flames, hot and angry, you felt no thanks or remorse. They did not deserve to rest peacefully, and they didn’t even deserve to die on the Great Mother’s sacred soil. Their spirits deserved to walk alone, isolated and cold from the warm glow of the afterlife. 

“You skxawng! What the hell are you doing?” Neteyam screams. 

Looking around, you see the green back of his ikran, its rider perched on top with no visible concerns except for the fury etched on his face. 

“I got this! It’s just one more,” you insist, positioning an arrow on your bow, eyeing the last gunship. 

“May the Great Mother help you when I knock-” and with that, he’s easily ignored. 

The wind whips past you, high and soft, almost like a whisper from Eywa that she too felt the tensions of battle. You would do anything to soothe her pain. She could not endure the suffering of this war much longer. 

Tightening your grip on your ikran, her blues providing a stark contrast to the grayness of the military equipment, you attack from the rear yet again. Guns firing, you duck, placing yourself as flat as you can get against her back. However, once you approach the opening of the ship, where all of the massive guns were placed, you sit up, firing quickly. 

The scream and weak grunt you heard confirms that it was a successful hit. Loading your bow with another arrow, you soar underneath the aircraft, looping around until you have the high ground. Securing your aim, your fingers release the string until the arrow flies straight into one of the Scorpion's propellers. A small explosion soon turned into a large one, the ship dipping to its left and falling from its dominant space in the sky to the dirt. 

However, so were you.

You must’ve underestimated how close you were to the ship, your eagerness to protect your people and the Great Mother clouded your judgment. 

The sound and burst of light, as well as the force, must’ve spooked your companion as she, too, seemed to have lost her place in the sky. She tumbles towards the ground, shrieks and roars released into the open air. Jaw clenched, you tried to convince her to gain control to no avail. 

“Come on!” you shout, knuckles turning a pale blue with the tight grip you had. 

As you neared the ground, panic began to set in. Your ears lay flat against your head in an attempt to not become overwhelmed by the wind, you tried to think quickly. 

You could stay with your ikran, but you would both get injured; you could also disconnect from her and leap from the group, in hopes of only injuring yourself. 

Deciding on the latter, you had one plea for the Great Mother: 

“Please don’t let Neteyam kill me.” 

Disconnecting your kuru, you leap the rest of the way to the ground, the shock of the force of your fall causing you to fall instead of landing perfectly on your feet. The ship crashes a couple of yards in front of you, the force of the blast propelling you forward. 

Rolling and skidding along the dirt, pieces of gravel and discarded glass and metal tear at your skin. Red begins to bubble up along the surface, the violent opposite of your blue skin. 

Tumbling down a hill, you lose your grip on your bow, the wood being left behind in your trail. The burning sensation of your flesh being scraped away keeps you alert, blindly clutching at anything to break your fall. 

Eventually, you slow to a stop, landing on your stomach with a mouthful of dirt. Spitting and coughing up the soil, you take a minute to catch your breath. With a slight raise of your head, you look at the ship as the flames crackle and cause a film of sweat to break out on your skin. That hunk of metal was truly ugly against the backdrop of the forest. 

You begin to slowly sit up, a sharp pain coming from your side. A cut, not deep enough to need stitches, slowly oozes blood down your left rib, crimson staining the skin. It looks swollen, screaming to be disinfected immediately. Reaching behind you to check for any more severe wounds, you arch away from your nimble fingers just upon a light graze. The heat from the explosion must’ve irritated the skin, causing soreness and slight bubbling in some places. 

Minor scrapes along your knees and elbows from what you could see and feel, makes you thank Eywa for her protection and the benign wounds. Stumbling onto your feet, you catch sight of something unnatural. 

A small piece of metal protrudes from the side of your thigh, embedded into the flesh. Staring at the shrapnel, you’re reminded that your world doesn’t just belong to you anymore. Even if the Sky People were to disappear and return back to their planet, the scientists would remain here. Their clunky gear and massive structures would continue to reside amongst the nature of Pandora. 

Something about that notion makes your heart sink. 

You lightly touch the silvery metal, trying to gauge how deep the foreign object must be. It felt stiff and unwilling to relent to your touch, confirming that it was not something you could brush off. Taking a step forward, a broad, aching pain festers throughout your leg. It hurt less if you put less pressure on the limb, however, that would be hard to do on your journey back to the High Camp. 

Picking up your bow from the ground, arrows broken and scattered around, you slowly mount your ikran, muttering expletives to yourself at the pain that dwelled throughout your entire body. 

Neteyam was surely going to kill you. 

Upon your arrival, after an arduous flight back home, you slowly slid off your companion onto the uneven rock. Blood oozed out from around the metal, the object having dug deeper into the surface the more you moved. With one hand clutching your rib and another trying to steady the object, you hoped to stumble into a healing area before you were noticed by a Sully. 

Turns out, you’re not as stealthy as you thought. 

“She’s back! She’s back!” a high-pitched cheer sounded, a small girl bouncing towards you. Tuk’s big grin slowly faded into a look of concern and worry as she sized up your injuries. “Mom! Kiri! She’s hurt!” 

The younger girl prances over to you, lifting your arms and examining your body from front to back. You feel the small girl brush against your tail, which was agitatedly flicking back and forth. 

With a sigh of your name, you see Tuk’s mother and elder sister approach you, war paint still decorating Neytiri’s face in vibrant greens and yellows. She gasps upon spotting the dirt, blood, and bruising that has blossomed across your skin, tucking a stray hair behind your ear as her eyes fill with worry. 

“We must get her to grandmother,” Kiri announces to her mother, clutching your upper arm as softly as she could without hurting you. 

“There’s no need. I can do it myself,” you try to assure her, taking a fumbling limp forward. 

“There is a piece of metal sticking out of your leg.” 

You glance down, almost as if you hadn’t noticed it at all before. It was a futile attempt, especially as you used your fingers to brace the object, preventing it from moving too much. “There is?” 

“Damn, bro!” Lo’ak exclaims, waltzing up beside you and trying his best to not laugh at your given failure. “Looks like someone got their ass handed to them by some Sky People,” 

Hissing at him, you weakly push at his chest to show him that you weren’t interested in his jokes right now. 

“Lo’ak!” his mother scolds, hitting him upside the head. 

“What?! What I’d do?!” 

Then, the two people you desperately wanted to avoid came into view: Neteyam and his father. Jake had a stern, militant look on his face—a facade that seemed to follow him everywhere he went. Neteyam’s face was set into a deep frown, a look that was a delicate cross between his mother’s and father’s disappointed faces. 

“Well, would you look at the time? Looks like I better start tending to-” you attempt to walk away, only to be kept in place by Neytiri’s firm hand on your shoulder. It’s not like you’d be able to escape them as quickly or swiftly as you would typically be able to. You–apparently–had a piece of metal sticking out of your leg. 

“What the hell were you thinking?!” Jake scolds still dressed head to toe in his fusion of Omaticaya and Sky military gear. “Disobeying direct orders? That isn’t something I expected from you.” 

Casting your eyes downwards, you hope your flat ears and limp tail would get you out of this scolding quicker than it would’ve if he was scolding Neteyam or Lo’ak. Typically, avoiding his gaze would show that you felt regret—which, in this case, you didn’t really—and he’d let you move on. However, it’s hard to keep your eyes fixed on the ground when someone gets into your line of view. 

Neteyam crouches down, face coming into view as if he’s trying to catch your fake performance. Instead, he places two hands, worn and calloused from all of the years of fighting and defending his people, onto your cheeks. He tilts your face upwards so he can view you from his natural height, allowing him to view each scrape and bruise in proper lighting. His lips twitch into a grimace, thumbs grazing over a small cut that must be on your cheek because, although there’s a faint sting, there’s no leaking blood. 

Now, everyone knew about you and Neteyam. It’s not like it was kept a secret. Wherever you went, he followed; whatever he was doing, you were right there beside him. In the years to come, you would become his mate and that was an unspoken decision between you and him. Well, there was also an unspoken rule between Neteyam and the rest of the boys his age to not even glance at you, or else he’d have their tails. However, no matter how much people smiled softly whenever you’d exchange fond glances or spare looks when you two ran off alone, it wasn’t like you publicly displayed much physical affection. Nonetheless in front of his parents. 

He unloops your visor from behind your ears, handing it to his brother without his gaze leaving your face. As soon as his hands leave you, they return just as quickly. His fingers smooth over your face, confirming that you’re breathing and here in front of him—something he’s very grateful for. Your stupidity—not so much. 

“You’re such a skxawng,” he chides, tilting your face towards his. 

“Yeah, yeah whatever. It’s not like I’m the one who took down—not one—but two whole- ow!” you yelp, stumbling forward towards the young man. 

Tuk looks at you guiltily, one finger outstretched as if she was prodding at something. 

Kiri steps forward, pushing Tuktirey out of the way in order to re-examine your back. 

“We should take her to grandmother,” she insists, “now.” 

You roll your eyes, trying to continue with your act of not being nearly as injured as you appear, but the longer you stand, the more it becomes not true. As the adrenaline wears off, the soreness and incessant throbbing grow throughout your muscles and bones. Your rib and leg are still oozing blood, warm and tacky against your skin. Neteyam loops an arm around you, careful to avoid the blisters and welts that decorate various places on your back. 

His free hand reaches for the hand that hangs limply over his shoulder, intertwining your fingers and giving them a light squeeze. “It’ll all be okay,” 

“Yeah, I know. Just ‘cause I’m walking a bit funny doesn’t mean I’m dying,” 

You could say that then, but you sure as hell can’t say that now. 

If there was one thing about Mo’at, it was that she couldn’t care less if her remedies stung like a bitch as long as they cured you thoroughly. So now, as she smears a paste along your back—the sensation as bitter and frigid as the Northernmost part of any mountain—that bites at your skin, you kind of wish you were dead. Or at least knocked out. 

This isn’t even the worst of it. 

Once the stinging fades more into a relaxing cool, Mo’at instructs you to lean backward so she can assess your torso. The older woman crouches next to you, hands hovering over the wound as if Eywa was sending her a direct message on the best way to heal you. Neteyam sits on the other side of you, clutching your hand with a grip that seems more like it’s to reassure him than you, his other hand brushing your hair away from your face. 

Neytiri stays close to her mother, observing or advising what she believes to be the next course of action—just as a tsakarem should do. Kiri stays by your feet, grinding and mashing up various plants and syrups that could be used to aid with disinfecting your wounds. Lo’ak and his father stay near the door, ready to leave if someone else should need assistance with anything to do with the war effort. However, as everyone stays well within their place, performing their necessary task, Tuk couldn’t seem to sit still. 

“Is she going to need stitches?” Tuk asks, peering over her eldest brother. 

Neteyam removes his hand from your hair, slightly readjusting the younger’s weight so she doesn’t put too much pressure on him, in turn, putting pressure on you. 

The Tsahìk doesn’t look up from your wound, eyes brightening as if Eywa had finally delivered her guidance to the woman. “No, she will just need to rest. I would advise very minimal movement for at least seven days,” the woman says, being handed a bowl of yellowish sap. 

“Seven days? But I need to be out there, it’s my duty to fight,” you plead, growing restless and inching upwards. 

Neteyam pushes you back down, delicate but firm fingers pressing against your sternum. “Down,” he murmurs. 

“It is not my fault you did not listen to orders,” the older woman retorts, using a brush-like leaf to observe the consistency of the paste before lowering it toward your injury. 

“Yeah, well it’s not my fault that I just happened to save- oh, Great Mother! Holy sh-” you yelp upon Mo’at contact. 

Neteyam presses a hand over your mouth, sending you a stern glare. “Not in front of the Tsahìk,” he hushes, palm warm against your lips. 

You groan against his hand, face twisting and back arching in pain. Unlike the gel thinly spread across your back, there was no relief from this paste. Mo’at continued to slather it all across your skin, insisting that the more you move, the more it will hurt. You squeeze Neteyam’s hand, feeling the bones shift with how strong your grip is. If you’re hurting him, you can’t tell. The look of pain on his face seems to be linked to his feelings about your injuries, your pain. Always the doting lover. 

Once Mo’at wraps the injury, using both Na’vi and human medical wraps, she places a palm over the injury, thanking the Great Mother. Then, she looks at your leg. 

Your leg was held down by Kiri throughout the excursion, as she didn’t want the shrapnel to lodge itself deeper into the skin and muscle. At the base of your leg, a piece of twine is firmly wrapped around the skin to lightly restrict blood flow. The skin was not pinched, nor did you lose feeling in your leg as you would’ve if the twine was used as a makeshift tourniquet, however, your thigh still resisted against the band. 

You haven’t cried yet, however, just with her eyes boring into your leg you feel as if you’re about to sob. 

“Please don’t take it out. I don’t- I don’t want to have to do this anymore,” you begin to blubber, looking at Neteyam as you try to sit up. 

“Shh, shh,” he placates, stroking your cheek. “It’s okay. I’m here, I promise I won’t let anyone hurt you.” 

“I’ve been hurting this whole time,” you groan, “what the hell have you been-”

Then, the last two people you want to see walk into the room: Norm and Max. 

“I grabbed them as soon as I heard,” says Spider, following close behind. 

“No. No, no, no. Get the hell away from me,” you say, instantly shooting up and trying your best to scoot away, even as Kiri still holds down your leg. 

Neteyam says your name so sweetly, so full of fondness that a chill is sent up your spine—a chill that isn’t caused by the cooling medicine or a shock of pain. “He’s here to help.”

“I don’t want him here,” you spit, speaking Na’vi to the boy sitting beside you. 

“We have no choice,” he reasons, his voice dropping an octave. “They will be much quicker with their equipment than with ours. I promise that my grandmother will heal and treat you, but we need their help to make sure that there’s no extra damage that is beyond what the eye can see.” 

You shake your head, refusing to listen to him and averting your gaze. 

His lithe fingers reach for your chin, turning you back towards him. There he goes again; always making you feel like the blushing fool, especially in front of his family. 

“I will not let them hurt you.” 

What a fucking liar. 

Taking a team of three women plus Norm to hold your leg down, Max begins to lower his tweezers toward the piece of metal. With the first tug, you begin screaming. The pressure and the resistance between Max’s tweezers and the artificial shard against your tender skin and muscle caused your free leg to kick, hands tightening at your sides and clinging onto Neteyam. The fact that your whole body was tense, each muscle spasming, probably didn’t help what was already a difficult procedure. 

“Damn, she’s strong,” Norm comments, adding more pressure in an attempt to hold your leg down. “Spider, help us out.” 

You continue to sob, reaching for Neteyam to claw at his shoulder. If you’re hurting him or breaking skin, he doesn’t tell you. Instead, he cradles you as you cry against his leg. Ripping your hand from his, you squeeze his leg, nose pressed against his thigh to hide your face. There’s no guarantee that half of the clan hasn’t heard you by now, nor that a few people have poked their heads in to see who the hell was screaming so damn loud. You were well known. There’s no way anybody wouldn’t recognize that it was you who was being surgically tortured. However, if you could save some dignity by hiding yourself against Neteyam, you would do just that. 

“I’m never letting them near my body again,” you weep, gripping tight to the blue skin beneath you. 

Neteyam rakes his fingers through your hair, hands petting any inch of skin that has brought you comfort over the years. He knows you like the back of his hands. Playing with your hair puts you to sleep, rubbing his thumb across your cheek makes you keen, following the slope of your nose makes you smile, and touching your ear makes you quiet. Using this knowledge, Neteyam’s hands roam to any expanse of skin that he can reach. He must look mad, with busy fingers and frantic eyes, but he can’t help himself. His chest hurts when he sees you like this, and if he needs to kill someone to make you feel better, he’d gladly do that. 

“It’s almost out. We’re almost done,” he assures you in a soft tone, getting close to your ear. 

Your ears, which have been laying flat and folding over periodically finally perk up and away from your skull—a sense of relief. It’s quick-lived before they fall back against your hair, but he sees it as a small win. 

“Can you dress it for me?” you plea, voice breaking painfully. 

Who is he to deny you? 

“All done!” Max cheers, placing the flat piece of shrapnel into an emesis basin.

The clang of the metal against metal causes you to abruptly sit up. Neteyam’s hand is on your shoulder, but for the first time, it’s not to push you back down. He lets you take your time viewing the sizable gash in your leg, an injury that without a doubt needs extra aid. You whimper at the sight, not necessarily at the pain, but because you knew what this means: you would be under strict supervision at the battle scene. You couldn’t be trusted to be alone, especially as you were a great friend of the Sully’s and Neteyam’s prospective mate. 

Falling back into Neteyam, the cries you let out are softer but still cause your body to shake. Neteyam rubs his cheek against yours when you hide your face in his neck, tears causing the blue skin to become slick and tacky. He readjusts your top which has moved around during all of your painful squirming, protecting your modesty. The beads land softly against your shoulder, arms holding you snuggly against him. He tucks your hair behind your ear, giving him a view of the ear that is decorated with various pieces of Omaticaya jewelry. An orange bead, delicately dangling from your lobe, was a gift from him. 

“It makes me feel wiser during battle,” you told him once before sending an arrow straight through the eye of a fish that swam around in the pond. 

He touches it lightly, reminding you that everything is alright. 

“No! She’s going to need stitches!” Tuk whimpers, a frown deeply set on her face. Even through your crying, Neteyam catches the faintest hint of a smile. 

Mo’at begins to drip water over the wound, clearing away any blood that may have leaked down your leg despite the twine restricting your blood flow. 

It’s silent besides Max, Norm, and Jake’s mumbling outside of the tent as Mo’at preps a needle and thread. Kiri, Neytiri, and Spider have since released your leg, observing you and the Tsahìk. Just as Mo’at blesses the needle and thread, Neteyam speaks up. 

“I’ll do it.” 

Mo’at looks at her grandson, her gaze strong but understanding. The white bone needle stays pinched between her two fingers, amber eyes unwavering. 

“Neteyam, let your grandmother-“ 

“I said I’ll do it.” he hushes, lip curling in order to hide a scowl. 

His mother looks at her own, a non-verbal communication occurring between their stares. Eventually, Neytiri acquiesces, standing up and taking a step away from you. 

Mo’at hands him the needle, placing a worn but beautiful hand on your leg. 

“Return here tomorrow so I can check on the wound,” she orders. You nod, eyes still teary before the older woman stands with her daughter, ready to move on to the other warriors who need their assistance. 

Once his mother and grandmother leave, Neteyam grows restless. 

“Everyone out, please.” 

Kiri scoffs at him, still seated by your feet. “You can‘t be serious,” 

“Out! Get out!” he hisses, fangs bared at his sister and the human boy beside her. “You have done nothing!” 

“I wouldn’t call holding down her leg for nothing. I’ll have bruises for the next week,” Spider dismisses, standing up with Lo’ak, who is already headed towards the exit. 

“Out!” he shouts one final time, his siblings leaving as his tail flicks back and forth with irritation. 

It isn’t until they’re gone, that Neteyam leaves your right side, scrambling and pouncing over you in order to come in contact with your left leg. 

The tent is silent as he begins his work. The process doesn’t hurt much, a gentle prick or pinch here and there; you’re not sure whether it’s because your nerves are shot and can’t detect pain anymore or because Neteyam is good at his work. It could be both. Before you know it, the wound is closed and a row of sutures stares back at you in a familiar Na’vi sewing pattern. The skin is even, nothing too uncomfortable, and although there’s bruising, it appears to be that everything will be okay. 

You reach out to touch the stitches with a shaky hand, only to be slapped away. “Uh uh, don’t touch,” he tuts, eyes focused and mouth slightly ajar in concentration. 

He grabs under your knee, bending it at the joint in order to prop it up so he can place a bandage over the sutures. 

“To protect them,” he informs you, wrapping the gauze around your thigh.

He’s very quiet throughout, a reaction you were not expecting. Neteyam has always been logical, methodical; he never steps out of line or does something rash unless it’s for the means of protecting those he loves. Always quick to action, he’s usually the first to help and the first to reprimand someone (usually Lo’ak) for their stupidity. That would be the typical reaction. However, now he looked almost forlorn. 

Once he’s done, he fully stands for the first time since you entered the tent. He begins to rummage through his grandmother’s remedies that sit in wooden jars and crystal vials, concoctions she’s mastered after years and years of being the Tsahìk. After selecting a small wooden bowl filled with clear oil, he grabs another bowl of water and a rag and sits down in front of you. Dabbing the rag in the bowl of water, he lifts the dripping cloth toward your face. 

“What are you doing?” 

He looks at you, eyes narrowing briefly before they return to their normal, large position. 

“Your face is filthy.” 

He gently holds your chin, tilting it up towards him so he can begin wiping your face. His hold is steady but his eyes look nerved, almost as if he has too much on his mind to bear. His breathing matches yours, and he dodges your gaze although his entire being crowds your line of sight. There’s no way for him to avoid you, really. 

“What’s wrong?” you ask as he dips the rag and wrings out all of the water, approaching your face yet again. 

“Nothing is wrong,” he replies curtly, his ears twitching quickly before returning to their previous state—a telltale sign that he’s lying. 

“Oh, so you’re just going to pretend like I know nothing about you now?” you try to joke, smile falling when you notice how he doesn’t reciprocate your humor. “Talk to me,” you urge, grabbing his wrist so he can’t try to distract you or himself by caring for your wounds. 

He sighs, looking away before he slowly looks back at you. Holding your gaze, eyes squinting and lips pursing slightly. Neteyam looks at you like you’re supposed to understand him–and you do–but it’s as if he’s expecting you to know what’s bothering him. However, the problem is that you don’t. Once he comes to that realization, he sighs, still looking into your eyes. 

“I’m upset with you.” 

And there it is. Your tail swishes uneasily, something that doesn’t go unnoticed by Neteyam, but he can’t bring himself to quell his emotions for your sake. He almost lost you. 

“Why are you upset with me?” 

He shrugs, almost as if he’s embarrassed or too shy to explain his feelings. Being the eldest son and the next heir, Neteyam often felt as if he had to hide his own inhibitions or concerns in order to be a good son, a good brother, a good leader. When it was just the two of you, you would often have to do a little extra prying in order to get him to reveal what was truly occupying that pretty little head of his. Even once he admitted it, it was even harder to get him to elaborate. 

“Just drop it. You should be healing,” he dismisses, trying to distract himself by wiping your face again. 

Pushing his wrist away with your fingers, you take the cloth and throw it into the bowl of water. Holding his hands on your lap, his tail swishing timidly behind him, you make him look at you by following his gaze. “I can talk and heal. The two aren’t mutually exclusive,” 

“I wish they were,” he mutters, a braid swinging in front of his face. 

“Hey,” you tuck the strand behind his ear. He leans towards your touch, almost as if he craves it, no matter how much he wishes he didn’t. “This isn’t how this works. You need to talk to me.” 

“You’ve already been in enough pain today. I don’t want to cause anymore,” 

“Quit the bullshit. I’m better now. I’ll feel worse if you don’t tell me.” 

“That’s not the way it works.” 

“Um, yes, it is.” 

“It’s not.” 

“How would you know? I can already feel my leg hurting ten times more now that you won’t communicate with me.” 

“You’re not in any more pain because of me,” he scoffs, trying to escape your grasp. 

“Ow, my leg! My leg!” you feign a whimper. He cracks a small smile, your cheeks spreading as smoothly as the war paint that still dons his face. 

Neteyam looks so beautiful when he smiles. It’s a special smile, reserved only for you; it drips of sticky honey, so sugary that sometimes you feel as if you could fall ill from its adoration. He’s soft as he looks at you, coy and all things delightful. The hands that once tried to flee your own, now reach for your wrists, petting the skin in a pattern that speaks a million languages at once. And yet, somehow, not one of those languages can truly resemble how much he loves you. He loves you a lot. 

“Please,” you whisper, “tell me what’s wrong?” 

He sighs, assenting to your pleas. With one final sweep over your face, he finally indulges you. 

“I’m not happy that you took down those ships.” 

“Well, duh,” you scoff, rolling your eyes playfully. “I know that, but I want to know why.” 

“You weren’t careful.” 

This causes a richer scoff to form at the back of your throat, a sound that makes his ears press against his braids. “I thought we agreed to take down the enemy at any and all costs?” 

“I know, and we did—we did make that agreement. I just,” he groans, trying to find the right words. Neteyam never had the right words when it came to expressing himself. “I was scared.” 

“Okay,” you reply softly, shuffling closer to him. “Why were you scared?” 

“Why wouldn’t I be scared?” he answers, tone mimicking the same quiet tone you used. “You’re mine—my girl, and- and they almost took what’s mine away from me.” 

“God, I just got so scared that something bad would happen to you. And when I saw you hurt, how badly you were in pain, and I couldn’t do anything about it I just…” his eyes are frantic, searching all across the hut for something—anything—to provide him an answer. His hands start to tremor in your hold. “I felt helpless and so stupid. I should’ve been tougher on you, or—I don’t know—had Lo’ak or even Kiri stay with you so you didn’t have to be alone. And it’s not that I don’t think you’re incapable or anything—” he excuses, causing you to smile lightly, “—but I don’t trust them. I don‘t trust them with you.” 

Smile turning watery, you reach for his shoulder, soon deciding to hold his face instead. He leans into your palm yet again, seeking the warmth that can only emanate from your hands alone. It’s the only warmth that can rid him of any chill. 

Neteyam kisses your palm, soon rolling your hand over in his, placing his lips on each knuckle as if it provides him comfort. And it does. It provides him more comfort than he could care to admit. Placing your head in the crook where his neck and shoulder meet, you place a kiss on his collarbone, lowering your lips to place another on his pec, right above his heart. The young man draws in a deep breath, holding you close to him, savoring each second, each touch. Skin against skin; heart against heart. 

“I’m sorry for worrying you,” you apologize, your soft lips grazing his blue skin. He loves the feeling. “I just wanted to protect our people.” 

“I know, I know,” he murmurs against your forehead, a light kiss placed there. “I’m sorry for yelling.” 

“It’s okay. You didn’t even yell,” you forgive, cheeks pillowing against his chest. When you lift yourself away from him, he tilts his head in confusion at your smirk. “Also, we both know Kiri would be awful on the battlefield.” 

He chuckles, brushing his nose against yours. “True. She can’t even shoot an arrow in a straight line.” 

“Exactly! I don’t know what you were thinking when you said that. Lo’ak? Sure, whatever. But Kiri?” 

“I know, I know,” he agrees, voice growing softer as if his quietness will preserve this moment between you. 

His eyes become velvet—smooth and warm—the longer he looks at you and it instantly makes you melt. His lips look saccharine, a buttery spread of a light smile decorating his face which is just the absolute cherry on top. If Eywa hadn’t taken you during battle, she sure as hell was going to take you now with how crazy Neteyam makes your heartbeat. 

He tucks your hair behind your ear, his smile growing more and more with each expanse of skin he navigates. Dancing his fingertips over your jaw and across your cheekbones, he eventually cups your cheek and you just watch. If you breathe too hard, if you shift your weight, this moment could crumble. He’s looked at you like this many times before but it’s usually in the dark, under the bioluminescent blue and purple lights of the forest, where all you can see are the shadows of his face and the warmth of his tongue and the breeze of his breath. Now, you can see everything in pure, golden hues. The way his mouth relaxes, the way his eyes absorb all they can with each quick glance, the way the corner of his mouth tugs upwards unconsciously. You love it. 

“May I kiss you?” he asks quietly, thumb swiping along a stripe on your cheek. 

“Why do you ask now? You’ve done it many times before,” you wonder, eyes transfixed on the way his own mouth moves with each word he’s about to form. 

He chuckles, a sweet, melodic sound, “Just wanted to make sure you’re still down even when the sun is out.” 

This earns a loud laugh from you, a laugh that makes Neteyam’s heart squeeze and his lower stomach burn. He loves you. One day, he’ll say it. 

Once your giggles have fizzled into a content sigh, you bite your lip lightly before you release it and it returns to its normal place. Neteyam follows the movement. 

“I’m always down if it’s you.” 

“Yeah?” he smiles, breathy and lips plush.  

“Yeah.” 

With that, he seals the deal. His kiss is soft, and you don’t miss the way his eyes dip to your mouth right before the initial contact. It makes you feel hot all over. He’s gentle—he always is at first—and he’s so, so kind. He pulls away briefly, returning not long after as if he needs to be connected to you or else he would suffer. In a way, he would. 

Neteyam is sweet. He still tastes like the fruit you shared before the raid and also a little bit like blood—whether it’s from him or you, you don’t care; you’ll devour it desperately just like you want him to devour you. He traces that stripe on your cheek again, his new best friend, and follows it down the nape of your neck. His other hand trails up from the small of your back to the divot in between your shoulder blades. He uses his hand to pull you closer, seeking any contact from you that he can get. 

Your hands are a barrier, shielding your chest from his, and in a way, it upsets you but also pleases you. Nobody knows what would happen if you could feel his chest pressed against yours at this moment—not even you know. Your hands glide across his chest, lighting scraping and molding against the fine muscle that hides under his smooth skin. When a lithe finger accidentally catches against a nipple, his mouth drops open pliantly, his tongue searching for yours. 

“‘S scared they took my girl away from me,” he murmurs against your lips, his own following after yours after each word. 

“Never,” you promise, kissing him firmly, one hand gripping his shoulder to ground yourself. All of this kissing was beginning to make you feel as if you could float away. “I’m yours. They could never take me or have me. You know that,” 

“Mhm,” he hums, voice lilting towards the end as he presses his mouth to yours. It makes your back arch forward, seeking more of his skin, his touch. 

His hands are growing desperate now. Neteyam knows he has to be gentle, avoiding the damaged skin on your back and remaining weary of the injuries on your rib and leg, but he so badly just wants to pull you close to him and never let go. He wants to hold you, to feel you, to be with you in every single way he can imagine so passionately. But he can’t. He will have to wait for another time. 

You, on the other hand, may roam freely. Your hands travel down his chest, exploring the taught skin of his stomach. It seems he subconsciously flexes underneath your touch, something that is rather enticing. Reaching the plusher skin of his lower stomach, although there still isn’t much give, you trace the muscle gingerly, bordering right above the hem of his loincloth. The delicate touch of your fingers causes him to lightly moan into your mouth, a sound you gladly drink down just to feel its warmth in your stomach. 

Neteyam pulls away suddenly, a loss you’re greatly upset about until he relocates his lips under your ear, traveling down your neck. He hums against the skin, tongue swiping against it as if he’s trying to taste as much of you as he can, as much as he’s allowed. 

“You can’t touch me like that,” he says, using a hand to bring both of yours back toward his chest. You cradle his head instead, tracing a finger along his ear. It twitches. 

“Why not?” you question, voice airy. Neteyam nearly preens at the sound, tail wild. “You seem to like it.” 

“I do like it,” he insists, “I love it, even.” 

“Then why can’t I touch you there?” 

He places a wet, fervent kiss against the crook of your neck. Your breath hitches in your throat, a moan threatening to escape past your lips. 

“Because,” another kiss, “You are not promised to me yet.” 

“I just told you that I’m yours,” you reminded him. 

“Yes,” he nods, trailing his kisses back toward your jaw. “However, you’re still not mine.” 

Oh. 

“I could be yours. All you have to do is ask,” you say as if it’s not something he already knows. You hold his head in place, halting his journey upwards so you can whisper in his ear: “Ask me, Neteyam.” 

His tail swishes excitedly, something that makes you smile. Great Mother, you could eat him up. 

“No,” he responds, pulling away and facing you head-on. He has a lovesick smile on his face, a grin that nobody could wipe off as long as you’re around. “I want to do it right.” 

“Yeah?” you counter. “How would you do it?”

“Well,” he hums, kissing your lips. “First, I’d get all of your favorite foods. All of those fruits you like, season everything all nice,” he begins to slowly kiss your cheeks, “and get it all ready just for you to eat.” 

“What else?” 

“Then,” his kisses travel towards your ear, “Once you’re full and comfortable, we’ll go for a walk.” He bites your ear lobe and you press yourself against him. “We’ll go to our favorite spots: we’ll look at those flowers you like, go to the river, maybe swim a little. I like the way your hair looks while wet, you look so pretty,” he sighs. “You listening?” 

“Yes,” you nod. “Go on.” 

“Then I’d bring you to our sacred tree, just so Eywa can see us and I can see you under her light. I want to see you when I ask you. I want to see you if you smile or cry or decide that I’m not the one, I don’t care, I just want to see you,” he smiles, no longer kissing you but nudging your nose with his. 

“And if you say yes—Great Mother, I hope you say yes—I promise, I’ll treat you so well. I’ll hold you the way you ask to be held, kiss you in all of the places I already know you love to be kissed, and learn all of the new places I can’t reach yet too. I want to feel you, and see the way you react. I want you to feel me, too. I want you to see me, and I want to see you,” he whispers, voicing each wish. 

You nod, slowly and then desperately. “I want to see you, too,” you promise. He smiles that big, toothy smile. “Tell me when you’ll ask me? I can’t wait for much longer. I need you.” 

His eyelids grow heavy, skin heating underneath your palm. “I need you, too,” he gasps, leaning forward to kiss you again. “It’ll be soon, just want you to heal for now.” 

“Yeah?” you smile. “Soon?” 

“Yeah,” he smiles. “Soon.” 

ⓒ starvine 2023

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