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wheneclipsefalls · 7 months

Note

Obsessed with your writing! Especially the sully brothers x reader relationship!! If you're taking requests, I would love to see possibly something along the lines of lo'ak being slightly more jealous and possessive even when it comes to his brother, so maybe reader x neteyam are being very fluff and cute alone and it starts to get hot and heavy, and even though they know lo'ak would be jealous Neteyam just can't help himself 😩 just as neteyam and reader are finished and cleaning up lo'ak catches them and gets soo pouty and jealous and reader is soo apologetic and makes it up to him with his own special alone time asgdgdhdhfjfkf 👀🙏🏻

Masterlist AO3

Pairing: Neteyam (23) x Metkayina Fem Reader x Lo'ak (22)

Warnings: oral (fem receiving), explicit MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, p in v, aged up characters, established relationship, polyamory, dom Lo'ak, dom Neteyam, squirting, sub reader, power imbalance, jealousy, sibling rivalry, dirty talk, semi public sex.

A/N: Thank you to the anon that requested this! I had a lot of fun exploring a softer side to these three's dynamic. Also, thanks for being so patient <3

“You’re going to hurt your eyes staring at the sun like that, baby girl.” Neteyam warns you. Still, your gaze is locked to the horizon. The water is calm and clear, only the occasional canoe or ilu and rider surfacing. Nothing showing the shape of what you truly desire to see.

“Yawne.” Neteyam tries again, finally breaking your focus away from the pulsing water. Looking up from your place in the sand, it’s easy to see the fond amusement in Neteyam’s golden eyes. “He won’t be back until tomorrow.”

You huff and turn away from him.

“I know that.” Your efforts to remain nonchalant are unsuccessful with the eldest brother. A deep chuckle rumbles in his chest before you feel his shadow encapsulating your form. He leans directly over your sitting form till his playful eyes meet yours directly, blocking the view of the ocean. Neteyam’s tight braids dangle and sway upside down with the ocean breeze carrying them along.

“Then why do you keep looking for boats?” A hairless eyebrow raises back at you and it becomes hard to hide your pout.

It seems that your attempts at spotting the hunting party were not as subtle as originally imagined. Then again you figure nothing concerning you and the brothers is ever subtle. It’s been five days since Lo’ak left with the hunting party out past the reef. It’s the longest the two of you have been apart since mating. Sure there were times when one or both of the brothers were needed in these groups, setting out across the waves to gather greater supplies for the clan, but that had been when you were teenagers.

Back then you could not verbally call them as yours. Even on those occasions you had been worried and anxious for their return, but those were thoughts that had to be kept to yourself. You can still remember Lo’ak’s smirk the first time you had bounded into his arms after he had been away on a three day journey. He was pleasantly surprised but wasted no time in pressing your body closer to his. Pulling away with inflamed cheeks, you could see the obvious pride that glimmered across his features.

It was clear he knew of your little crush.

Now, having been mated to both brothers for several months, you are acclimated to their presence. You are fortunate enough to wake up with at least one of the Sully boy’s wrapped around you. Each night you fall asleep pressed between them, a game of footsy inevitably taking place throughout the night. Even with each of your busy schedules and responsibilities you seem to always find time to spend with them frequently.

“You’re imagining things.” You insist, trying to look past his curtain of braids.

Neteyam audibly laughs at this. He straightens up before plopping down beside you. Strong arms wrap around your middle and easily manhandle you to sit between his legs. It feels natural to melt back against his warm chest, Neteyam tucking your head beneath his chin.

“My poor yawne, not getting enough attention with only one male to satisfy her.” Neteyam teases and you instantly slap his thigh in reprimand. It’s light and harmless, only there for show of your retribution.

“Don’t say that.” A pout begins to form across your heart shaped lips. Thankfully Neteyam is unable to see it properly with you facing forwards. Still, he seems to sense it all the same, his cooing and amused chuckles not seizing for a moment.

Bent legs cage you in from each side, but the loose embrace is comforting to say the least. It doesn’t calm the storm of emotions and longing that plagues your brain, but the tension in your muscles begins to unravel into a more relaxed posture. Calloused hands dance across your shoulders and sides. The warmth of his hands seem to spread across your skin, subconsciously bringing a blush to your cheeks.

Finally, they settle to knead and work at the knots in your shoulders. Neteyam is an expert at scaring away any forms of physical stress with those skilled hands. His strong grip formed over years of wielding a bow and carrying heavy canoes onto shore, proves to be efficient in digging into the deep muscle that is usually coiled tightly. You have to suppress a moan from escaping your lips.

“He will be alright.”

Your eyes flicker open, unsure of when they closed in the first place.

“Yeah…I know.” You live under no delusion that those words came out confident. Were it not for Neteyam’s great intuition and vast knowledge of your reactions, it’s clear he would still be able to decipher your mood. You’ve always been known for wearing your heart out on your sleeve. It’s a characteristic that can lead to deeper talks and understanding but also the same one that puts you into moods that end with you over one of the Sully brother’s knees.

“Our sweet syulang, always concerned for her forest boys.” Neteyam coos, nuzzling into the back of your neck. The action starts to surface small giggles from your lips, tickling at the sensitive skin. Your sharp teeth gnaw into your bottom lip to try and keep them at bay, but it is already building into full blown laughter. This only spurs Neteyam onward, brushing your thick hair aside so he has better access to your neck.

“Stop!” The pleas for mercy sound anything but intimidating with your radiating laughter sinking into every phrase. Before you know it, his legs have come over yours to keep you trapped while his fingers tickle into the soft flesh of your sides.

You’ve always been ticklish, a fact that both brothers delight in and use to their advantage. Lo’ak was originally the first one to discover it and he had been relentless for the weeks following. Any chance he had to keep you pinned underneath him with desperate laughter erupting from you, he took. It came to the point where you were asking Jake for maneuvers that would get the male off of you.

“Neteyam! M-mercy!”

“Not till you admit how worried you are.” Neteyam insists. At this point you are squirming and frantically trying to kick his legs off of yours for relief. Unsurprisingly, you are unsuccessful with that heavy toned muscle clamping you in place. “Baby girl can’t handle Lo’ak being gone for a few days.” Neteyam teases.

It’s funny how after all this time, hearing the words out loud still makes you blush. You’ve done unspeakable things with these men, gave your body and soul to them and received the same in return, but there is still something about admitting your dependence on them that makes your ears heat up in embarrassment.

“Fine! Fine! I’m a little worried, you skxawng. N-now let me go!” Intermittent hiccups cut your sentences into jambled pieces but luckily Neteyam finally yields. Your lungs struggle to inflate and exhale air quickly, heart beating against your ribcage. The eldest Sully lets you lean back against him once more as he peppers soft kisses along your cheek and temple. You can feel the curve of his lips against your skin.

Arrogant Skxawng.

“Lo’ak will be back before you know it.”

You solemnly nod in response. Neteyam is right, but five days already feels like too much. It’s strange not having his snide remarks and devilish grin interrupting your day periodically. In many ways the brothers are like fire and ice. They have parts of their personalities that oppose one another and yet it feels unbalanced to only have one element without the other. There are moments where you admittedly enjoy spending one on one time with them, but things usually only escalate sexually in these scenarios if they’re quickies. Just simple moments where the heat of passion lures both of you into going further than anticipated.

Although you prefer not to verbally admit it, part of this has to do with Lo’ak’s tendencies. Neteyam isn’t easily bothered by being left out. He’s too busy and sensible to monitor things as inevitable as that. The eldest brother only comes to heated anger when seeing other Na’vi males closing in on you.

Lo’ak on the other hand, is a bit more sensitive to the exclusion. You blame it on the older-younger brother complex that they have grown up in. Neteyam has always been the golden child, spearheading the path for his siblings to follow while Lo’ak spent many of his adolescent years feeling like an outcast. In his eyes, Neteyam was the one that received all the praise and accomplished each milestone perfectly while he was seen as lesser than. It’s been years of healing and growing up, but a shred of those insecurities still lie beneath, no matter how much he denies it. Lo’ak is possessive of what belongs to him, perhaps afraid it could be taken away within an instant.

You consider it a miracle that the two agreed to this special relationship in the first place. Still, that possessive behavior has a way of bubbling to the surface every now and then.

“Five days is already a long time.” You mumble as Neteyam’s calloused fingertips trail to the sensitive flesh of your inner thighs. It lights a flame there, sparkling along your veins into simple tendrils of pleasure. Five days is a long time, especially when you’ve gotten zero sexual relief within that span.

“You think you can make do with silly old me for one more day?” Pointed teeth briefly nip at your twitching ears.

Your lips part to throw back some witty response, but the sensation of long fingers reaching underneath the waistband of your loincloth, makes your mind go blank. It’s borderline humiliating how affected you are by such simple touches, but you’ve been on the edge for days now. Neteyam has been doting and affectionate as always but your nights end with innocent cuddling. Only now can you feel the evidence of his own sexual frustration poking your back.

“Please don’t tease, Nete.” You rangle out a response as the tip of his pointer barely brushes your unparted folds. Going without sex for almost a week is one thing, but you have little hope of surviving it with the mix of Neteyam’s teasing.

“Why not?” He whispers, but those pointer fingers parts your petals and begins to rub delicately at your sensitive nub. Neteyam peeks his head around your shoulder once more. You obediently crane your neck to face him. His lips are soft and patient against your own, a different tune than the passionate one you are used to.

“Miss you.” The words are barely more than a mumble against his lips. Pressing his nose against yours he breaks the kiss and smiles down at you.

“Oh now you miss me too?” The tips of those sharp canines poke out in the smile. “How can you miss me when I’m right here, pretty girl?”

You fight the urge to roll your eyes at him. There is no desire to kick up a bratty attitude right now, not when your instincts tell you that Neteyam is willing to reward you for good behavior. Instead, your lashes flutter closed and you give him the most innocent and endearing peck on the lips you can manage.

“You know what I mean, Nete.” His hands recede from your core and gently trace a path up to your hips. “Please?”

The hold on your hips becomes a harsh grip, one that is used to flip you around. Finally facing him you waste no time in straddling his lap. Desperate lips attach once more and you can feel his impressive member rock hard and grinding up against you through the fabric.

Lo’ak on his best days tries to keep his composure, forcing himself to walk back to the shared hut and into your arms instead of tumbling the way he would like to. Today, however, back early from the expedition, he can’t hide his excitement. A few drops of sweat trail down the back of his neck as he helps the others reign in the large net under the beating sun. The younger Sully brother ignores the aches of his muscles and continues to work as fast as possible.

Occasionally his gold orbs snap up to survey the perimeter in search of your form. For once he is relieved to not see you there. This way he can surprise you. Images of your soft body beneath him already fill his brain to the brim. Sleeping side by side with other Metkayina horny men is extremely disappointing in comparison to spooning you from behind as his cum leaks out of your tight pussy.

From the corner of his eye, Lo’ak spots Ao’nung rolling his eyes. He ignores the look, confident that it only comes out of jealousy. Spirit far from being put down, Lo’ak rangles the net together quickly until he is finally dismissed.

Hooks hanging from the netted loincloth clank together as he nearly sprints across the woven pathways of the village. The first place he looks is the marui, naturally, but neither you nor Neteyam are anywhere to be seen. He vaguely remembers the south beach being your favorite place to spend time after a long day of working so he beelines to the other side of the village. His only rest stop is one forced by Jake, who spots him and goes to welcome his son home. Lo’ak gives his father a nod of his head and a rushed explanation before getting back on course.

It isn't until he makes it past the thick cluster of mangrove trees that his ears twitch, catching the sound of distant moans. His first instinct tells him to turn away, leaving the anonymous couple to have their fun, but then there is a distinct whimper that he could recognize anywhere. Lo’ak takes heed to not rustle the fallen greenery loudly as he prowls forward toward the source of the sound.

And that is where he finds you backed up against a palm tree, his older brother balls deep inside you.

“C-close!” Your eyes are squinted shut, the familiar look of ecstasy painted across your delicate features.

“That’s it, baby girl. Give me another one.” Neteyam adjusts your trembling legs that are wrapped around his waist so he can change the angle slightly. This shift has a new onslaught of moans freely falling from your lips.

“C-can’t!” You whine, dropping your head to rest on his shoulder.

Careful to remain silent, Lo’ak studies your form. Your sweet body that has been haunting his dreams for the past five days. However, it’s his own back that he imagines your nails digging into while getting fucked, not his brother’s.

“Don’t be stubborn, baby.” Neteyam grunts, hip rocking upwards at breakneck speed. “I know you can.”

What tips you over the edge though is not encouraging words or the squeezing of those large hands around the plump of your ass, it’s the moment where Neteyam swings his queue over his shoulder and allows your dancing tendrils to intertwine.

“Nete!” Your screech almost drowns out his own feral moan. He curses under his breath.

“Great Mother!” Neteyam groans, and from Lo’ak’s hidden spot in the bushes, even he can infer it's from the way you are clamping down around him. “I love you so much, baby girl!”

“L-love you, Nete.” Lo’ak has to concentrate on the sound to make out your strangled words.

He’s done watching the scene unfold before him. Listening to his brother’s groans he knows how this ends and he has no interest in waiting around to be discovered afterwards. Suddenly, his excitement has dimmed to that of a lonely dread.

Careful to not be seen or heard, he traces his trail back through the array of trees until he can no longer hear the two of you. Lo’ak sets off to distract himself from the lewd scene he had discovered. Truth be told, he had seen and participated in moments like that with the two of you many times. The brothers were used to sharing sexual intimacy with you, but that wasn’t what made his heart clench.

It’s the soft and tender intimacy in that moment that spurs dark feelings inside of him. To see such a sweet scene of love and devotion, all while he has been away. The lurking voice in the back of his head whispers creeping thoughts of not being needed. Perhaps you are not only able to manage but also more content without him there.

Lo’ak knows better than to heed this tempting voice in his head. He knows he has a tendency towards letting these outcast feelings sink in. However, just because he doesn’t let himself believe such sad things, does not mean he is thrilled to see how well the two of you get along without him.

Reluctantly, Lo’ak makes his way back to the Sully residence. Surely at least Tuk will be happy to see him.

“Hold still!” Tuk hisses, yanking on the small braid in retaliation. Lo’ak winces, always surprised by the increasing strength of his now teenage sister.

“Yes ma’am.” He mutters under his breath, but Tuk rewards the comment with a slap to the head regardless. Only five minutes of lacing the new shells through his hair and Lo’ak is already itching to find a way out. He sours at the idea now of waiting for you to realize he is home. Neteyam or not, Lo’ak is anxious to see you.

Tuk giggles in delight as the last of the shell carved beads are finally positioned properly in his hair. She beams proudly at the handy work. It’s clear that she requires no outside approval to know she has done a fantastic job. Of course, he knows it’s expected regardless.

It’s in the middle of giving these compliments that he is knocked to the ground by your charging figure. The two of you fall back in a tangle of limbs as you squeeze him tightly. Finally, out of the dazed surprise, he wraps his arms around your waist. Quick kisses are peppered along his cheeks and nose rapidly before they finally reach his lips.

“You’re back!” Your voice radiates energy and sunshine, but Lo’ak can still hear the echoing of moaned devotions you had been spewing for his brother moments earlier. From the sidelines, Tuk wrinkles her nose at the sight of you two, but even pinned underneath you Lo’ak does not miss the twitchings of a smile on her lips.

“How long have you been back? How dare you not come find me?!” You complain as Lo’ak finally manages to sit the two of you up. Your fingers quickly find the newly beaded braids that hang over his eyes. You grin while fondly twisting the braids between the pads of your fingers.

“I did, but you seemed a little…preoccupied.”

Your smile drops and for the first time, Lo’ak makes eye contact with his brother that is casually leaning against the entryway.

“Oh.” It’s all you can think of to mutter.

“Tuk’s been waiting forever to get those beads in your hair. Surely that must have some priority.” Neteyam quickly cuts in, ruffling her braids messily. The distraction is enough to disrupt what was sure to be an awkward silence between the three of you. Neteyam focuses his energies on maintaining his younger sister’s innocence.

“Naturally.” Lo’ak agrees, eyes never meeting your own.

Neteyam is already set to work, distracting Tuk with inquiries of getting new beads for his own hair. Luckily she takes the bait eagerly, letting you and Lo’ak steam in your own cloud of tension.

“Lo’ak I…I’m sorry, we didn’t kno-”

“No worries.” He swiftly replies while simultaneously lifting you off of his lap. “We should head out before the hunting party devours the rest of dinner. Trust me, they’re desperate for anything besides boiled fish eggs.”

He’s standing and trailing out of the marui with Tuk before you have a moment to protest. Neteyam lets out a heavy sigh, offering you a sympathetic smile and hand to help you up.

The rest of the night doesn’t proceed in much better of a fashion. Lo’ak doesn’t outright ignore you, returning tender touches and responding to questions, but you can feel the reservation holding him back. He doesn’t jump to tell outlandish stories like usual. The younger Sully allows the other members of the party to take the reins of the conversation, only hopping in to aid when specifically called upon.

That night with the three of you back in Neteyam’s marui, the tension is palpable. You try to fill the air with fun stories and comments about how much Lo’ak was missed but neither brother does more than nod and occasionally pass out a one syllable answer. Neteyam affectionately lays a hand on Lo’ak’s head while the younger brother is putting away the fishing supplies, but his arm is brashly swatted away. It’s not an uncommon interaction between the two, something they’ve been known to do since they were teenagers, but there is an added sharpness to Lo’ak’s recoil.

Neteyam’s eyes cut to you, visibly rolling his eyes to show how unnecessarily his brother is being. You give him a reprimanding look, motioning for him to be nice. His attitude doesn’t shift much at the request but he does manage to give his younger brother some space for the rest of the night. A fact that you are grateful for, originally worried that you were about to witness another one of the Sully brothers’ brawls.

As the years have passed and maturity has settled upon each of them, they’ve come to be more respectful of one another. It’s that fact alone that allows this three way relationship to work in the first place, but there are times where the sibling rivalry still peeks out. Times where Neteyam finds Lo’ak dramatic and Lo’ak can see nothing but the golden child that has everyone wrapped around his finger.

Naturally you’ve jumped in several times to mediate the interactions, but you have also come to learn that sometimes they need to be left alone to fight it out. Chances are they are back to being friends again in the morning with nothing more than a few bruises to show from their argument.

Unfortunately, Neteyam seems to decide that keeping some space from you too would help wash away the memory of the scene Lo’ak walked in on. The bed is cold, trapped between the two of them while they both face away from you. A pout sits heavy on your lips as you toss and turn all night. Lo’ak doesn’t move away when you come to spoon his larger form from behind, but it’s still not how you imagined spending the night of his return.

The next morning when you wake with only Neteyam by your side, you decide that enough is enough. You refuse to let another day pass with this hot and cold tension between the two of you.

The village is still awakening, with the orange glow of daylight barely breaking the horizon, only a few early morning stragglers flit along the bouncy pathways. Most are in a rush to get out into the open ocean and make some morning kills. Lo’ak doesn’t have patrol or assignment with the hunting parties today, so it takes some effort to figure out where he has run off to. Luckily, you can recognize the muttered curses in the Sky People language that falls from his lips.

“Damnit!”

The sound comes from underneath the walkway and you know that you are bound to find either your lover or Jake Sully. It’s endearing to see how much of his father’s lingo Lo’ak has committed to his own vocabulary. It’s still a struggle and annoyance to try and decipher what each word means but you’ve started to pick up on the feeling behind the most crude ones.

Flitting across the woven floor you follow the distant muttering accented with the swish of water beneath your feet. It takes you to the edge of the village where you finally hang over the walkway to spot Lo’ak wrestling with something underwater. Laying your body down to peer over the edge, your curly hair falls forward till the ends become dampened by the water’s surface. It takes a few seconds to realize that he is currently wrestling with a tangled net around the base of a support tree.

Even from the distortion from the ocean water, you are able to make out his impressive physique and flexing biceps that yank on the sturdy wire. When he breaks through the water’s top once more for a breath and another round of curses, you allow yourself the luxury of porusing every inch of his majestic body with your eyes. He wears one of your favorite loincloths on him, a laced garment of mangrove leaves dyed a royal shade of purple. It’s a very traditional Metkayina attire only further complimented by his dark inked tattoos and shells swinging from his signature braids.

Today, however, his beautiful dark braids are fashioned into a top knot, showing off his bared neck and shoulders sinfully. A part of you wonders if he chose his attire this morning simply to punish you for yesterday, Lo’ak is no stranger to your preferences and he has been known in the past for using them to his designs. Regardless of intention, it would be a lie to say it isn’t working as you oggle at the shifting muscles along his back while he pulls at the net violently.

The years have been oh so kind to Lo’ak as he has grown into an accomplished male and warrior. The once slim beanpole of a body that you remember him coming to the island with (although even then you were quite infatuated with his appearance entirely) has shaped into a stronger Metkayina build while still maintaining certain Omatikaya physical traits. His shoulders had spanned out to create a surface broad enough for easily harboring canoes and nets full of gain. Even his thighs had become sturdy and encapsulated with smooth muscle. Somehow, however, that form still found ways to narrow into the slim waists known as a forest person trade mark.

It has always driven you to the point of insanity, how well the brothers took the best of each culture and mixed it into your personal heaven.

“Come on!” He grits out between bared teeth, starting to use his weight as a force against the trapped net.

“Fucking Damnit!” He exclaims, starting to wrap the net around his flexed forearm.

“Fuckeng damitt” Your attempt to mimic his words come out rushed and confident but with the clear overshadow of a thick accent. It makes his head finally spin in your direction, startled expression shaping into that of recognition.

“Don’t let Neteyam catch you using that language, yawne.” He warns you halfheartedly, already back to tangling with the destroyed net.

For some strange reason Neteyam has always been more sensitive to your use of obscene Sky People language than anything Na’vi curse related. Something about those fowl words being too dirty for such pretty lips. It’s half the reason you still struggle to understand the meaning behind these thrown English curse words. Still, it’s always an effective way to get either of the brother’s attention.

“What does it mean?”

“Nothing really, yawne. Just don’t use it.”

Your clear pout is wasted on his dismissive attitude, still facing away from you as he puts his sole focus on undoing the stubborn net. The blood is already rushing to your head from being upside down and still Lo’ak has given you nothing close to the attention or reassurance you require.

“You use it.” You point out.

“You know that’s different, mama.” The nickname is enough to finally have a small smile encasing your lips, unfortunately it’s fleeting. “Why are you out of bed? It’s barely dawn.”

Lo’ak doesn’t give you a second to respond before taking in a full breath and dunking under the water again. Your teeth grind together as you wait impatiently for him to stop fumbling with the twine underwater and let you work together a reconciliation between you two. The younger Sully brother has always had a way of expressing his disapproval, the theatrics sometimes enough to have you mouthing off and trying to beat him at his own game. Today seems to be no exception.

Guilt is quickly whittling along your nerves, faster and faster as the silence stretches on and Lo’ak still remains hidden beneath the surface. When his head finally pops up out of the water, the words leave your lips within record time. “I missed you!”

Amber eyes finally flicker up towards you for the first time since your arrival.

“Yawne, I’m working.”

“Is this my punishment?”

He lags at the question, ears twitching and tail coiling together before facing you once more. His dark eyebrow furrow and the edges of his lips downturn.

“Punishment?”

It takes a harsh steadying breath before you brashly begin to give the speech you’ve been preparing since last night. There seems to be so many things to include, so many ways to say you’re sorry. The order and details of this speech are rapidly becoming jumbled until you are sure that not even half of it will come out right even before you have parted your lips.

“I’m sorry about yesterday, Lo. I really am! Neteyam and I just got caught up in the moment and…not that I’m trying to excuse the behavior because yes it was not the most considerate to you. And then the timing of it all was…by Eywa, disastrous. I wanted to be there when you got back! I had a whole plan, was going to pick your favorite fruit but of course I didn’t think you would be back that early. Still I just-”

He sternly speaks your name, cutting off the endless spew of apologies.

“Breathe, baby.” Lo’ak calmly instructs and although your urge to continue talking till things are resolved still bubbles inside, you follow his command. Once you’ve seemed to settle enough to his approval he finally continues. “There is nothing to apologize for. You’re Neteyam’s mate too. You don’t need my permission to fuck each another.”

Although his words are spoken calmly, the edge of his cursing and timber in the tone still sets your anxiety spiking. The Sully brothers may be proud to know you inside and out, but that bridge goes both ways. You recognize this tone of voice, the hint of shame and bridled emotion that Lo’ak carries when he forces himself to not overreact about something. He has a inclination to keep certain emotions locked away when deemed childish or ridiculous, perhaps ones that he was scolded for having in his adolescence.

Truth be told, you don’t require his permission. The three of you have entered into this relationship and agreed to the terms consequently but that doesn’t mean you are proud of how things went down. Just because you can do something doesn’t mean you should, not when it comes at the cost of Lo’ak’s feelings. There were better ways that yesterday could’ve been handled. A deep frown etches into your features when you imagine how disappointing it must’ve been for Lo’ak to come home and have his first welcome home be nothing more than a reminder of how well you and Neteyam can get along without him.

“It wasn’t sensitive and I’m sorry. I know how you feel about it and-”

“Yawne,” He drops the net and faces you fully, the heat of his attention searing into your skin. “You do not need to apologize to me. I can handle it, I don’t need you to coddle me.”

Slowly your wide tail slinks do the ground, following suit with your pinned back ears. Lo’ak, however, can not hide his own tell-tale signs either. It’s easy to recognize the shift of his own tail and tension creeps through his shoulders. Although he returns to the task at hand, you are far from being done with yours.

You allow your body to flip over your head, cascading you over the edge and into the shallow water. Feet planted along the sandy bottom, the water’s surface reaches considerably higher up your own torso in comparison to where it sits along Lo’ak’s hip tattoos. He’s back to gathering the net, although he can sense your presence easily.

“I can tell you’re upset.”

“I am not mad. Truly.” The brief eye contact is broken as he turns around and digs his heels into the sand, readying himself to tug once more. It only takes a few more tugs for Lo’ak to decide that this method is ineffective. He easily heaves himself back up onto the walkway to retrieve his discarded sheathed knife. When he does, your eyes follow the curve of his sculpted ass, water dripping down the slopes of his spine and hips.

The two of you may be in the middle of whatever you call this disagreement, but it’s been five days since you’ve seen him.

Five days since his five-fingered hands have explored your body. Five days since he has been seated inside of you. Five days since you have had the opportunity to express your love through the passion of tangling limbs and unrestrained devotion.

The throb of your core is insistent as you drink in every detail of his beauty.

Back in the water with knife in hand, Lo’ak stubbornly continues to give you the cold shoulder.

“You’re not mad, huh?”

“Nope.” He mutters, adjusting the straps of his loincloth.

“Well then if you’re not mad…” You trail off, sauntering over to him through the thick of water gracefully. A shiver wracks his spine when your soft fingers trace along each jut of his vertebrae. “Indulge me.” You let your obvious seductive passion drip into each word. Now is not the time to be bashful. You’re ready to outright beg if that is what it takes.

“Yawne…” He sighs, “I really am supposed to get this net un-”

“Forget about the damn net for a minute!” His head whips around to send you a sharp look, but it does little to sway your determination. It’s too easy to see the spark of intrigue in his eyes. “You’ve spent the last five days working, all away from me. You can spare a minute.”

Your hands naturally come to rest along his slim hips as he turns to face you fully, his larger frame towering over you and blocking the orange glow of the sun. You can’t even find it in yourself to be apprehensive or remorseful when those long fingers tilt your chin up and bring you looking directly into that unyielding gaze. Any attention is considered progress and welcomed openly. All it takes are a few strategic maneuvers and this man will be beneath your fingertips. You know it.

“Seems like someone forgot their manners while I was away.” The cool shells along those two loose braids dangle down to your soft cheek. Lo’ak’s calm breath fans over your lips, mere centimeters away from their destination.

“Oops.” You answer coyly, a feigned pout mixed with a shimmer of arrogance laces your features. He doesn’t stop the pads of your fingers from leisurely drawing swirling lines along his abdomen and sides. “Although I hardly think I could be blamed for such a thing.”

An innocent peck is left on his lips.

“You are the one that left after all.” Another kiss and then you’re turning away to make your retreat.

You are barely afforded one step before being pulled back into his embrace, back now pressed against the supporting tree. His lips are on yours in an instant, heated passion and desperation swirling in every movement of his protruding tongue. Barely having fleeting moments to breathe, you return the kiss with just as much enthusiasm and ferver.

Finally!

It takes considerable effort not to let your pride show in a devilish smirk against his lips. Lo’ak loves to consider himself the cunning clever predator in your little game of push and pull, but you can’t help but feel that you are the victorious one in this situation.

A cinching grip around your waist is all you require as a signal to jump and wrap your legs securely around his hips. The new position finally allows some much needed friction along your core, requiring every fiber of self discipline to not immediately grind back against him. Fingers grasping at the nape of his neck, you enjoy the way your mate completely devours you whole. Every worry and hesitation finally flies out the window now that the sweet reassurance of physical intimacy soothes those nerves.

When he finally pulls away, allowing air to reach your lungs once more, his wandering touch trails along your outer thighs. Your ankles cross and you pointedly flex to pull him closer.

“God, I missed you, yawne.” He chuckles, nose pressed against yours.

“Let me make it up to you.” It’s a soft plea, aided by your docile expression and doe eyed impression. It would be foolish to believe that Lo’ak buys the innocent act, but regardless he is too eager to see where this thing goes to truly care. Might as well let you be a little spitfire, he’ll be the one winning in the end either way.

A low hum rumbles in his chest. Lo’ak allows his eyes to linger over your small frame, revel in the way it is so sweetly wrapped around him like a vice. It’s been way too long. Although he prefers to still tease and torment you a little further, he’s too hungry to let things carry on for too long.

“You really want to make it up to me, tanhi?” A stray curl is delicately brushed from your forehead, ears twitching in response to the gentle touch.

“Yes.”

“Well lucky for you I know just the way.”

There isn’t a second allowed for questioning before your world is being flipped around again and you find yourself sprawled out across the walkway. He heaves your smaller frame up onto the padded surface as if throwing another net out into the ocean, effortlessly and with confident familiarity. You half expect him to jump up and join you, scattering away to a secluded spot to finally be together, but then large hands are pulling you towards the edge till your ass almost hangs over.

A small squeak escapes your lips as you try to understand what is happening but then the ties of your loincloth are being unknotted expertly.

“Lo’ak wait!” You attempt to push at his working finger while whipping your head around frantically to see if anyone else has stumbled upon the two of you. This section of the village is a newer addition. It’s lined with recently built maruis meant for newly mated couples, none of them occupied yet. However, that does not deem the two of you safe from random stragglers or curious Na’vi that come to investigate the noises you are sure to make if this man keeps working you up the way he desires. Lo’ak is unswayed by your resistance, gently swatting your small fingers away in slight annoyance.

“Not here.” Heightened awareness of your public location naturally drops your tone down into a hushed whisper. Lo’ak’s lips curl up into an amused crooked grin as he shakes his head fondly. Before you know it, he has successfully unraveled the twine material and starts to try wrestling the fabric away from your pelvis.

“Yes here.” Comes his rebuttal.

“But what if someone hears?” When your legs snap close to keep the fabric in place, his golden eyes snap up to your own cerulean orbs sternly. The raise of those unique eyebrows is a sure sign that you are about to walk on shaky ground.

“Then I guess you will have to be quiet. Won’t you, sevin?”

There is a way out of this, just one mutter of your safeword and Lo’ak is sure to bundle you back up and lead you away. The thought crosses your mind for a moment, but a lingering promise of disappointment at the end of that path advises you against it. It’s impossible to ignore the pool of heat in your gut as you come to realize the true risk of this situation. Sometimes you wonder if you have your own sex drive and logic playing for opposing teams.

“Lo!” You whine, hands coming to cover the blooming blush across your heated face. It’s all the confirmation he requires before parting your legs and finally stripping the fabric away.

The heat of his intent gaze upon your exposed folds seems to sear right down to your core. Even with the remnants of salt water covering your teel skin, he is sure to see the evidence of your sticky arousal seeping out. A feral grin overtakes his expression as he repositions your legs to be bent and spread properly. An unobscured view of your most intimate parts.

He leans in to give his signature little kiss atop your button, but instead of the usual teasing peck you are instead met with a burst of warmth across your exposed parts. He wastes no time in leaving a never ending string of open mouthed kisses to the sensitive area. His tongue mimics the ministrations of your heated kiss earlier but now along your delicate pussy and it’s such a skyrocket from zero to one hundred, it takes a moment to recapture your breath.

“Lo’ak! Wait don’t you think…ah shit! Lo, you’re gonna kill me!” You screech out, barely able to randomly dampen down the volume of your own voice. It feels as if it has been a century since the welcoming warmth of his mouth has swiped along your inner parts and the drastic change is overwhelming to say the least. Caught between trying to wrest his face away from your soaked petals and keeping your head on a swivel to look for passerbys, it’s difficult to keep your brain online.

“Someone is going to catch us.”

His lips finally descend from your pussy, shiny slick already visible along the cupid’s bow of his upper lip. Lo’ak uses those large hands to grip your inner thighs and spread them properly again.

“It’s been almost a week without the taste of you, mama. Not sure how you expect me to act.” He chuckles deeply, eyes already trailing back down to your vulnerable flesh. “Besides,” A finger swipes through the cut of you, drawing another wrangled moan from your throat. “I can tell she missed me too.”

It’s hard to say no to Lo’ak when he is in this state, so utterly pleased with himself as he draws teasing circles along your clit, his beautiful braids tied atop his head just the way you like and broad shoulders creating the perfect surface to rest your dangling legs. Logic and lust do not mix well, one always comes to outcompete the other and seeing the state that he is in after your own longings over the past few days, it seems the desire has the upperhand in this fight.

“So, be a good girl. Keep those legs spread and let me have my breakfast.”

You go to make some smart remark after the devious wink he sends your way but any resemblance of a planned sentence is interrupted by the heat of his mouth on you once more. Lo’ak is insatiable, skipping the common steps of warming you up and instead taking everything you have to offer as his own personal dessert. His textured tongue glides along your inner folds and swirls around the clit with flickering intensity and accelerated pressure.

The only sounds that can be heard are that of rushing water, distant murmurs of the village waking up and Lo’ak’s absolutely feral groans as he eats you out fervently. The years of practicing his breath hold appears to come in handy as he suffocates his own face with your sweet pussy.

While he makes no efforts to keep his groans and whines of pleasure at bay, you are slowly losing the awareness to keep yourself from doing the same. It continues at such a pace that sends tendrils of pleasure crawling up the base of your spin to the tips of your pinned ears. It feels as if bolts of lightning are gathering in your pelvis with nowhere else to go. Your cerulean eyes rangle themselves open so you can stare at the brightening sun with your head sprained backwards. It’s difficult to focus on the changing colors of Pandora's wondrous skies but it’s the only tool at your disposal as one more look at Lo’ak between your thighs is sure to bring on the impending orgasm.

At first, he truly does focus on getting his own fill, messily devouring your unique taste until it paints his dark blue skin. However, Lo’ak seems to find a goal after a few minutes of your muted moans. And that goal is all focused on making you fall apart for him, tremble and break beneath his skilled tongue and let those pretty sounds out without apprehension or care.

The shiny jewels of your top are flipped to the side to join your sprawled out hair as he goes to work on exploring and massaging your succulent breasts. His efforts below don’t break for an instant, finding a way to multitask between palming and exciting your tender breasts and sucking your living soul out from your pussy.

When those skilled fingers cinch around your nipples sharply just as his lips close and suction around your bundle of nerves, it’s the pebble that breaks that stone wall. Pillowy lips part to release desperate whimpers and moans as your back arches lewdly. Somehow it’s possible to feel Lo’ak’s triumphant smirk against your core even as he continues to suction your clit expertly. The heels of your feet are already digging into his flexing shoulder blades and your fingers seem to find their own way into his bun to tug roughly, but that only spurs on a deep groan from the forest boy.

If anything he encourages the rough play, buzzing words of approval along your pussy to keep you going. It’s a wonder that his bun doesn’t fall out after several minutes of your rough yanking. Were you in any better state of recollection you would see the strain of Lo’ak’s neck to keep his head stubbornly in place with every yank of his hair. Still, Lo’ak doesn’t show a glimmer of complaint. His eyes darken into pools of molten good, only visible through the sprawled slits of his eyes the few times he comes up for air or to admire your wreckage.

“Oh Eywa, Lo’ak! F-feels so good, please please don’t stop!”

“Atta girl.”

His dull nails flick at the peak of your right breast, eliciting a sharp shot of pain that melts into thrumming ecstasy. The pleasure is all consuming and hurtling you towards the cliff sooner than you would like. Lo’ak shows no signs of wanting to slow down, even as your grip on his hair tries effortlessly to yank him away. If he continues now you are sure to climax before the two of you have even begun, and the thought of not being filled by him after days apart is disheartening.

“Wait, Lo’ak! Need you inside. Need it right now!”

Your eyes lock, his own peering up at you as he makes a show of unfurling his tongue to lick broad stripes from your pussy to clit. The lewd scene is enough to have that familiar tension coiling in your pelvis.

“Nu-huh, baby. Not yet. I still haven’t gotten my welcome home present.” Sparkling eyes of mischief tickle at your intuition, warning of danger ahead.

“Lo’ak! Sir please!” Hopefully the formal addressing is enough to have him swayed to your side. “If I cum now I don’t know if-ah oh Eywa…Lo! If I will be able to cum again. W-want to cum on your cock.”

There is a moment of reprieve when Lo’ak tenderly kisses and sucks at the plush flesh of your inner thighs. Somehow the younger brother has always had an immaculate memory of which marks were left by him. He nurses those particular spots back to a beautiful shade of purple, leaving the marks from his brother unattended. The lack of response has your wall of suspicion hoisting quickly, but Lo’ak seems to be in a good mood so you take comfort in that. If anything, you start to believe that the earlier hurt has been washed away by this physical intimacy.

When the tips of two fingers nudge at your entrance, you let out a sigh of relief. Only a few more minutes to get you stretched properly and then he will finally seat himself inside of you. Truth be told, there seems to be hardly any need for preparatory measures. The velvety walls of your channel grip his long fingers tightly, pulsing around him incessantly. They are able to twist and scissor inside of you seamlessly, walls fitting around his shape in practiced obedience.

A jolt of pressure stabs at your groin, but then those fingers curl to massage at your g spot. With toes curled and a scrunched face you try to hold yourself back from the edge. This effort seems almost futile when his sticky lips come to fondle with your nub once more.

“Lo! Baby, too much! I-I’m gonna cum!”

A soft kiss is placed directly atop your mound before that smug face is glancing up at you from below.

“I really did miss you, mama.” The smooth brush of his voice darkens into a languid purr.

“M-missed you too, Lo’ak! So much! Need you now.”

The pads of his fingers press and work at that tight bundle of nerves. The building waves of your impending climax are reaching new heights and sending warning signals through your body. Already you can tell that this is about to be a powerful release, one that makes your stomach flips in somersaults.

“God, nothing tastes as sweet as you, paskalin.” His pink tongue comes to swipe along his bottom lip, collecting the sticky substance smeared over his complexion. “You mentioned something about bringing me fruit when I returned?” It’s almost comical the way his voice morphs into a casual tone even as his fingers are knuckles deep inside of you, torturing that sweet spot.

“Yes, I was going to bring you your-ah favorite fruits.”

“Fuck, yawne. You are just too precious sometimes.” He chuckles, pinching your chin and swiping a finger over your parted lips. A trickle of saliva escapes your mouth and wets his thumb in the process. Lo’ak shows no objection, instead pushing his thumb past your lips to press down on your tongue. Automatically, the pink of your tongue lays flat obediently, allowing him to see your mouth clearly. “I appreciate the thought, but you know what I really want, mama?”

It’s not a rhetorical question, evident by the halt of his fingers and the way one eyebrow arches upwards. Gulping down the pooling saliva around his thumb you manage to get out a small “what?” around the digit.

Instead of a verbal response you are met with the sight of his saliva covered thumb trailing down the slope of your neck, across the valley between your breasts and drawing over every curve of your soft body until finding their destination back upon your clit. Just enough pressure is applied to bring forth another wave of white hot pleasure. Successfully, the edge of his thumb manages to slip past the clitoral hood and find home right atop that incredibly small and sensitive button of nerves.

Jolts of lightning laces your nerves with every swipe of that teasing finger, only bringing further pleasure when accented by the other hand working to massage that bundle of nerves from the inside. It’s a measured and merciless onslaught of pleasure, trapping you with inconceivable thrills from either side.

One look at that smug expression painting his face, and realization dawns.

You know exactly what he wants.

“No! Lo’ak, you know I can’t!” Your protests are smeared by the occasional shrieks and moans that endlessly cascade from your lips. The corners of his lips curve upwards.

“Come on, mama. You and I both know you can. Just need to be a good girl and let it go for me.” His argument is further aided by simple flicks of his tongue at the bottom of your clit, between his working fingers. Pressure is already building at an alarming rate. You’ve never seen a volcano in person but you imagine this is the feeling of rising intensity that preludes such a colossal explosion.

“Lo’ak!” Your legs shake and tremble as you try to push back against him. The squirming gets you hardly any relief as the effects of such pleasure seem to already have been draining your body of its energy.

“Safeword if you need to. Otherwise, I will assume you’re just being pouty with me.” Lo’ak warns before returning to the onslaught upon your cunt.

You consider his words for a moment, checking yourself to see if this is really your breaking point, but the idea of stopping now strikes a lash of fear through you. Surely the only way to get through this is power forward and find the precipice of pleasure on the other side. Stopping now would only leave you with a sore cunt and shaking limbs, nothing in comparison to the satisfaction that awaits you. Besides, you trust Lo’ak. He would never intentionally harm you, he’s proven that time and time again. So your lips clamp shut along with your eyes as your body squirms along the woven surface.

“That’s it, mama. Just let it happen. Fuck, look at how pretty your pussy is like this.” He revels in the squelching sound that accompanies his sliding and curling fingers. The heat of your blush radiates from your in waves with the thick haze of your arousal. It causes his nostrils to flare in order to accommodate more of that sweet scent. It’s driving him up the wall, watching you squirm, whine, and clench around him in the middle of the walkway for anyone to see. Even beneath the slightly chilled salt water, he can feel his dick bursting to break free from the confines of his restricting loincloth.

Not yet.

There will be time for that soon, but right now he is focused on getting what he came for.

He can sense the trepidation rolling off of you in waves, even from the clench of your closing legs it’s obvious to see that you are fighting this.

“C-can’t!”

“You can and will. I’ll make sure of it.” The forest boy promises. “It’s all in your head, yawne. Just a little mental block you need to break through.” It takes wrestling his broad shoulder between your thighs to pry them open once more.

“But-”

“Don’t you wanna make it up to me, mama?” The ascent of kisses along your inner thighs is revived once more, plush kisses alternating between heated words of praise and encouragement. “Can’t get enough of you. Five days is way too long, little one. I need a treat.”

It’s obvious from the way your hips bucks and strangled screeches catch in your throat that you are on the precipice. So close to finally getting what he wants, Lo’ak doubles down on his efforts. Soothing drawls of promises and praise flow from his lips without thought. The little kitten licks he leaves under his working thumb gives him just enough of a sample of the sweet juices he hopes to receive soon. Motivation fueling him forward, Lo’ak massages at that bundle of nerves from both sides until you are trying to kick him away.

The pleasure is so all consuming that it almost hurts. It feels as if your body may simply shatter into pieces at any moment.

“I know what you need, mama.” Lo’ak gently guides your kuru braid to the end of the path. Eyes snapping open, a wanton moan leaves your lips as a wordless plea to continue. Begging is unnecessary because Lo’ak manages to swing his own braid over his shoulder and connect the tendrils without delay.

The instant connection gives you something to fall back onto, something familiar and comforting in this depth of uncharted territory. The bond purrs with pleasure from both sides, but it’s his building anticipation and desire thrumming through the mental connection that has your self control disintegrating.

Suddenly, without your volition or permission, the muscles in your pelvis tighten and an alarming sense of impending need for release surfaces. You try to cry out and warn him, sputtering some nonsense about needing to pee but Lo’ak hushes those concerns away, drawing on and on about just letting go. It’s not a choice, not a sensation that is in your control. Those spasming muscles tighten until a stream of your juices is squirting outwards.

Back arched and body tensed, electricity flows through your veins in the form of pure ecstasy, so demanding that it threatens to block out your vision with phantom stars. Lo’ak wastes no time in swooping in. He catches every squirt from your spasming pussy with a undetained urgency. The deep groans and whines that vibrate from his chest almost slide under the radar from your penetrating screams drawing them out. He suckles and feasts on you like a starved man finally offered the luxury of a five star dessert.

The tips of your nails are digging into his scalp and untwisting his carefully prepared topknot. Lo’ak is too focused on drinking in every ounce of sweet juice squirting from you to care about the fallen hairstyle. He groans and slurps up the addicting juices until broken cries fall from your lips and the stream ends.

“Thank you, mama” He groans, taking out his fingers and cleaning your drenched pussy thoroughly with his tongue. The weight of your body weighs heavy on you. It’s too much to consider rolling away to protect your sensitive core.

When he finally takes a breath, lifting his head to lick his fingers, he finds your gaze misted over with a thick haze. He studies the way your soft form is slack and sprawled across the walkway, not the twinkling of a thought present in your beautiful ocean blue eyes. The sun has now risen to paint the village in rays of gold. They dance across your form perfectly, bringing out every beautiful curve that has haunted Lo’ak’s wet dreams for the entirety of the excursion.

“Such a good girl, baby.” Your overwhelming pleasure still drones over tshayelu and leaves his own cock twitching, but there is an undertone of deep seated trust woven there. You’ve given in and given yourself over. With your luscious curls splayed around your head like a halo, Lo’ak is sure he has never seen a more beautiful sight.

“Lo…”

“I know, mama. God I love you so fucking much!” He can’t hold himself back from kissing and exploring every inch of your body. His hands wander greedily to grope and take in every curve of plush flesh and smooth skin painted with those beautiful scribble of stripes. Every inch of explored skin brings you further and further off the edge until you are back in his arms with shaky legs loosely wrapped around his waist.

“L-love you too, Lo’ak.” His neck is a safe place to rest your heated face. “So much.”

The night is far from over, his bulge pressing against your stomach still stirs to your remembrance his promise, but he lets the moment sway and settle for a while longer. You're completely pliant and soft in his arms as he cradles you. The soothing pheromones that draft from him are enough to finally set your muscles at ease. Words are hardly needed as you can feel the radiating satisfaction and pride that flows from his end of the bond.

Proud of himself?

Proud of how he can tear you apart and piece you back together?

Perhaps, but the most overwhelming sentiment that travels is the pride that he feels for you. For the steps you’ve taken today.

This is the first time you’ve ever squirted, although it has been a goal of the Sully brothers for quite some time now. For the longest time it didn’t seem in the cards for you. Even with their dual efforts, you had never been able to get past that mental block.

That is…until now.

Lo’ak takes the bulk of your weight as your legs are doing close to nothing around his waist in this condition. He makes a show of licking his lips and humming in delight, even when you sheepishly hide your face against his neck in response. Strength is finally beginning to seep back into your countenance even as your mind remains offline. The only subjects flashing across the forefront of your mind are the sweet traces of his touch and thrum of satisfaction rippling across the bond.

It isn't long before more of that sweet honey is gathering between your legs and leaking onto his loincloth. You rut up against him. The silent plea to feel him inside does not go unnoticed.

You’re startled by a sudden chuckle from Lo’ak. Blinking up at him you recognize that shit-eating grin showing off his smug attitude.

“What?”

“Just wait till Neteyam finds out.” He laughs with glee as you gasp, weakly trying to hit his chest.

“Don’t you dare!”

He neither promises to keep it a secret or spare his brother from the knowledge of this milestone belonging to him, but every trace of contention is clear. His disastrous return has been overshadowed by this golden memory.

As always, I would love to hear y'all's feedback and thoughts <3

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