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poppyseed1031 · 4 days

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Grovel Part 2

Pairing: Aged Up Lo'ak x Fem Omatikaya Reader

Part 1

Summary: Lo'ak needs a plan. A plan that will bring you back to him.

Warnings: aged up characters, eventual smut, lust, pinning, angst, past relationship, mentions of war, injury, etc.

“Stop whining.” Neteyam groaned, watching as Lo’ak secured another tie around the fabric’s base. The kelku was coming together nicely.

“I didn’t say anything.” Lo’ak all but huffed, lips turned downwards in the same fashion they had been since the celebration. He adjusted the straps of his loincloth, a trail of sweat racing down his spine. Oh how he already missed the refreshing waves of salt water.

“Your expectations were truly far too high, brother. What did you think she would do?”

Lo’ak shot him a seething look, one that warned against pushing it further, but brothers were immune to such limits.

“You’re lucky you made it out of there without injury. And now knowing what you did I can’t say I would have blamed her otherwise.”

“Yes Neteyam, I understand. Now can you shut up and help me lift the other end?” Lo’ak stomped past him, preparing the right side to be lifted. He didn’t wait for Neteyam to join him before using his own body weight to heave the heavy fabric into place. The younger Sully brother had been hyper fixated on his kelku since their arrival, even going as far as asking Kiri for advice on potential decoration.

This home had to be good enough to meet your fancy, an objective that he now understood to be much harder than originally anticipated.

“Mawey, baby brother. I am only trying to get your skxawng ass to understand.”

“Okay then fine!” The fabric was dropped to the floor in a heap. “Tell me what I should do. Since you know the ins and outs of wooing women, tell me how I am supposed to win her back.” His brows lifted, hands placed on his hips as he feigned bracing for his answer. Neteyam was not fazed by his younger brother’s outburst. After seeing Lo’ak’s restlessness the whole trip home in anticipation of seeing you, he was surprised the male was holding up as well as he was.

“I may just be a simple gentleman, bro, but I think an apology would be a good place to start.” He squeezed his brother’s shoulder, surprised when Lo’ak was too lost in thought to bother wrestling him off.

“I’ve tried. Everywhere I go she is avoiding me. I don’t even know where her kelku is or her routines. Otherwise-”

“Maybe I can help with that.”

Lo’ak sent him a skeptical look.

“What?” He deadpanned.

“She has a sister, right?” A completely rhetorical question that had Lo’ak knowing exactly where Neteyam was going with this. “Say the right words and maybe I can get some valuable help from Talu.”

“Wow. How did I deserve a brother like you?” Sarcasm dripped from his tone as he ran a hand over his face. It was no secret that Neteyam had taken a liking to Talu. The future Olo’eyktan was neither bashful nor shy when it came to playing the golden suitor.

Neteyam simply grinned before slapping him on the back and helping to hoist the kelku side once more.

You were impossible. So hard headed and stubborn that even knowing your route and home was not enough to get in a good apology. He was sure by now that Talu knew of his intentions with you, that giddy smile forever present whenever she announced his presence to you, but there was always an excuse to cut things short. Only a few minutes and you would be running off to aid at the healer’s tent or pick up the hunting gear you had left behind.

There was no end to the list of excuses you could formulate.

And it didn’t matter that neither himself nor Talu were fooled. You simply weren’t inclined to put more effort into hiding your disdain.

Lo’ak couldn’t remember you being this difficult before. When the two of you were younger you had handed your heart over to him on a silver platter. Of course your weird friendship had been full of teasing, pranks, and insults but that was only part of the fun. Once romance had been initiated, you took everything he gave with warmth and affection.

And he had ruined that.

He let out another sigh, trying to play it off when his mother gave him the side eye. His new bow was almost finished, surely the right weapon he would need to fetch an impressive kill. Perhaps he would use his spear too just in case. If he was going to win you over, it would need to be something extreme. Something that said all the words you would not let him get out.

At this point he was willing to take down a Palulukan if that is what it took.

He snorted at the thought. It may have been a few years since hunting on Omatikaya soil but he knew that thing would have him torn in two. Maybe then he would get your attention, whatever remained of his body finally being enough to crack your tough composure.

And then….

What started out as a ridiculously funny thought transformed into a new idea. A new plan. There was in fact one place that you could not run away from.

The healer’s tent had been slow in mid afternoon but luckily you were the only one on duty. When he walked through the tent flaps reverently, not bothering to hide the wince as his freshly torn up skin brushed the fabric, your lips parted. For a moment it seemed that concern swam in those beautiful eyes but then they were turning back into cold steel like that night at the festival.

“Kind of underestimated the swoop-”

He was cut off by your stern point to the space in front of you. He followed obediently but on the way he couldn’t help but let his gaze roam over your exquisite form. He had meant what he had said that first night. You were more beautiful than the day he last saw you, a goddess-like creature even his wildest dreams could not have imagined.

Today you wore a turquoise top made of small beads that were strung together to hang like vines. The color reminded him of the waters in Awa’atlu. Could that be your favorite color now? If so, he knew of so many places such gems and shells of that color. He could collect more for you. The beads mocked him, however, as their light weight cover just barely fell over your pretty nipples, one breath away from revealing the prize.

Hell, he was sure the right puff of air from his lips could push away those teasing beads.

As you began to work on applying ointment to his wounds Lo’ak forced himself to look away. However, he couldn’t find reason to not occasionally peak back and get a look at your pretty face. By Eywa, it was a true miracle that no one had snatched you up yet. Maybe he would thank the Great Mother for that gift at the Tree of Souls later.

At one point your diligence fell and strayed from the wounds to glance at him instead. He flashed a grin, one that didn’t match the state of his bloody back. You shoved his head to look forward roughly but he had already caught a glimpse of your rosy cheeks.

“You got injured how again?”

“Flying error, it’s been a while. Why?”

“No reason.”

Silence fell and Lo’ak had to keep himself from fumbling with his messy bun. You may be difficult now but one thing was still true. You always wore your heart on your sleeve.

“You don’t have to be worried, sevin-”

A sharp smack to the back of his head and Lo’ak couldn’t hide his surprised laugh.

“Damn, you’ve got a pretty good backhand.”

“Hush. I am trying to concentrate.”

It was sure to be a lie. His wounds were nothing in comparison to what you must have encountered during the war and with your experience you would have him healed and out in a few minutes. But then that meant he only had a very small window to squeeze this apology into.

“Don’t worry, I will behave.” He raised his hands in surrender but received only a little hum from you in response. “But while we’re here there is something I’ve been wanting to say.”

Lo’ak hissed when the ointment was applied harshly to his deepest cut. It was nothing he couldn’t handle after so many war wounds but it did manage to lose him a few seconds of precious time. Had that been your intent?

“When we were kids I was…an absolute skxawng.” No argument came from you and Lo’ak glanced back from the corner of his eye. “I was more than a skxawng actually. I was reckless and angry and I didn’t even think about how my actions would affect others. Especially you and-”

“I don’t care. It is done.” Without Talu’s presence there was no incentive to dampen the ice in your voice.

“Y/n,” He called your name softly, turning to grab your wrist and stop the movement. “I am sorry. I never should have hurt you like that. I knew better, especially….” He let out a deep sigh through his nose. “Especially considering how much I truly did love you.”

You yanked your wrist back as if his grip was red hot. Scrambling away slightly, he could see the control you had over the moment slipping. It seemed like the perfect opportunity to push it further, get you to accept his apology.

Unfortunately for him, Eywa must have decided that it was also the perfect time for the next healer to enter the tent.

“There were hardly any herbs left by the river. Next time we try the mountains instead.” Penyau said, the smile on her face slowly dropping once sensing the tension in the room.

“Great. Lo’ak needs patching up, sister.”

“Oh, well then-”

“No, no. Y/N is already on it-”

“I’m passing you over.”

“You truly don’t care to finish healing the Na’vi that was put under your care?” Not the angle he wanted to take, but he was panicking. So desperate to get a few more minutes with you that he had to stop himself from using his grandmother as a scapegoat to keep you here.

From the way your jaw clenched and tail curled he knew those cards would not have played well for him.

“Talu is waiting. I leave.” You gritted out. Not a second to make another attempt or ever apologize before you were past the threshold and leaving him in the dust. Or at least, leaving him with Penyau who looked confused but more than happy to assist him. The smile she gave, however, did not hold the same sweetness as yours.

Or at least the smile he remembered from all those years ago.

He prayed he would see it again soon.

A part of you wanted to insist upon staying home. Well no, all of you wanted to insist but if there was one thing you had learned from working with Mo’at is that there was no hope in defying her. If she saw it fit to bring you to the council meeting then that is exactly what you would have to do. Jake Sully was back as Olo’eyktan and with that came his sons’ attendance too. You were not foolish enough to hope otherwise, but there would surely be others there you could occupy your time with.

Even Tarsem had become a close friend of yours, as close as a clan member can dare to get to an Olo’eyktan, but conversation would be light and easy with him. If you were lucky perhaps you would be able to leave the meeting early as your sector of concern was far more narrow, giving you a chance to escape the inevitable small talk afterwards.

Luck, however, was not on your side. It seemed that Mo’at had deemed you her scribe for the meeting and that meant taking up every single detail presented. It was borderline impossible with the way Lo’ak’s eyes constantly strayed towards you. You’d think the male would have the decency to keep his staring at a minimum for public appearance.

Of course Lo’ak had never been afraid of attention.

That trait evidently had remained with him after all these years.

“Morning shift can circle northbound while overlapping with the afternoon watch.” Jake continued, using a twig to draw over their makeshift map in the dirt. It felt like he was speaking another language with the way your brain refused to concentrate. Jake might as well have switched into English with the rate you were comprehending.

“Lo’ak and Neteyam will be available by the end of the week once everything is settled in.”

You were so lost at this point it wasn’t even funny. Mo’at was going to have your head. As if sensing your confusion, the younger Sully brother said softly, “yes, for teaching.”

It didn’t clear things up much but Lo’ak had decided to start tying his hair back up into that damn bun again and you found yourself more dazed than in the beginning. Out of pure will power you resisted the urge to watch him dead on, unlike him. Watching those biceps stretch as he worked to wrestle those braids was still possible from your peripheral.

Another twist in your stomach.

Lo’ak relaxed backwards, long legs stretched out in front of him as Jake Sully continued his long speel. The meeting could have dragged on for centuries for all you knew and yet that twisting coil in your stomach never loosened. You felt like you were about to snap when the Olo’eyktan finally called for dismissal.

Up to your feet in a matter of seconds, Mo’at shot you a strange look. The tips of your ears burned as you tried to play it off and wait patiently for her. The meeting may have been over but that didn’t mean you were meant to leave her side. Most likely she would have other work for you to accomplish this afternoon and even if not it would be rude to not walk your Tsahik back to Home Tree.

“I’ve got it, grandmother.” Lo’ak easily switched Mo’at’s basket over to rest on his own hip. She gave him a nod and pat on the shoulder.

Swinging the netted bag of herbs and medicinals over your shoulder you focused primarily on the path ahead.

“Let me get that, sevin.” Lo’ak reached for your bag but with flaming cheeks you barely managed to deflect his advances and snap away.

The effort was pointless however when Mo’at gently grabbed the bag from your shoulder and handed it to him. An almost imperceivable smirk graced her lips at your perplexed expression but otherwise she remained silent. Slightly baffled and now avoiding Lo’ak’s unrelenting attention you veered to pick up the pace.

Now that he held your bag hostage there was no choice but to let him follow you both back to the healer’s tent. At least that’s what you thought until….

Mo’at let out a tired sigh and that was all it took for Lo’ak to insist she go home and get some rest. He assured her he would get the supplies back to the tent and walk you home safely, both actions that made you glare at him over her shoulder. The Tsahik, tired or not you couldn’t be sure, bid you farewell and gave her grandson another gentle squeeze to his shoulder.

The second she was out of sight you went for your bag. Lo’ak easily swiped away from your grabbing hands.

“Don’t worry, I’ve got it.”

Despite his warm smile he was only met with unspoken annoyance that seeped into the atmosphere’s tension. If he wanted to walk you home, fine, but you were going to get it done in record time. Without another word you scrambled up the nearest tree, deciding to take the overhead route to avoid traffic.

You could hear the clanking bags and basket as Lo’ak had to find ways to follow behind with only one arm to propel himself upwards. You secretly resented the way he managed just fine, despite the obstacle, long legs rushing over branches like they had only left the forest for a day.

“Is your plan to avoid me forever?”

Teeth grinding together you grabbed hold of another branch over head and propelled yourself up the next level. This time was more of a struggle, several vials almost falling out of the basket but that only earned him one concerned glance before you were striding forward once more.

“I meant what I said yesterday. I truly am sorry.”

“Yes, I heard you.” The tempo you set with your feet borderlined running. Lo’ak’s struggle became ever more apparent as the two of you scaled higher.

“Well yes I know that…shit!” A vial slipped from the basket, Lo’ak immediately lunged to catch it. You carried forward, trying not to think about how he almost lost the precious herbs that took you weeks to find and gather. “Got it!” He called but you were already several branches above.

With this head start you may just be able to outrun the Omatikaya prince and make it home safely.

Distant curses sounded from below followed by scrambling feet.

When will he ever give up?

It’s hard to say what Lo’ak did during his time with the Metkayina but you were surprised, and slightly displeased, to see how capable Lo’ak had grown in his tree climbing. Although, now he had found a way to shimmy himself up a trunk with only his muscular legs to aid. The sheer athleticism required to do such made your head spin and cheeks heat.

Straight home.

No detours.

“Y/N, wait up.”

He was closer than you would have liked, no doubt a result of your short attention span.

“Come on, sevin. Does your determination to ignore me really warrant all of this?”

Your temper was always an easy one to flare and when it came to Lo’ak Sully it seemed he had written the manual on how to light that flame. Turning on your heel, Lo’ak had to grind to a quick halt in order to avoid running into you again. It felt all too familiar to the celebration the other night so this time you spoke before he had a chance to get a word in.

“Maybe so, but what does it matter to you?!” Nostrils flaring and breathing heavily it was no longer possible to hide how fast the male had gotten under your skin.

“It’s admittedly more difficult to court a woman that won’t even let me be in her presence.”

The savage words on the tip of your tongue stuttered and your treacherous body rippled with excitement.

“You aren’t courting me.”

“Well, I suppose that’s fair. I technically have not initiated courting yet.”

“No Lo’ak, you will not court me. Ever.” Words like unbending steel the male’s eyes locked with your own and this time you found ways to not balk under his attention. When it seemed that nothing else was going to be said you turned on your heel once more.

And then Lo’ak finally spoke.

“I don’t see how you could stop me.” He murmured gruffly but the words immediately struck your temper like daggers. A bullseye shot.

“Lo’ak Te Sulli-”

“Sevin, just listen for two seconds!”

“Do not call me that!” Your voice hitched into a higher octave.

“I’m sorry I just-”

“NO!” Your shriek echoed over the branches. Heated venom coursed through your veins. “You push and push and push but I am sick of hearing it!” More words threatened to fly free but your heart was already pounding at your ribcage. Stay one more second and you were sure to find yourself saying much more than you ever cared to.

“I’m not going to give up.”

Those bubbling truths refused to be swallowed any more.

“You say that now, Lo’ak, but just wait. Soon you will grow tired of chasing after me and when you do there will be a plethora of women waiting at your beck and call. Just like before there will be another woman to entertain you where I could not.”

Lo’ak’s eyes blew wide and tail dropped to the floor but even then it would only be a few seconds before he made another pleaful attempt. And you couldn’t take any more of that. Those golden eyes covered by his signature two braids already beseeched your forgiveness far too easily.

“And once again you will go to her.”

He called your name as you left but you were already scrambling to safety.

It was going to take a grand gesture. One that would prove his loyalty to not only you but every Na’vi in the clan. Your forgiveness was not going to be an easy thing to win over but that was okay. Lo’ak had dealt with far worse for so much less. Enduring some verbal bashing and humbling circumstances was the least he could do to win the woman of his dreams.

And yet…it still hurt.

The way you shut him out, not letting him learn even a morsel about the girl he had been missing for years. How much time had he spent imagining your reunion? Perhaps all of his dreams and hopes had clouded his sense of reality because now he stood here with only a shattered fantasy left. He had fooled himself for too long, thinking the past could be something swept away with the turning of time.

He had wounded you too deep for that.

So much deeper than he had ever let himself accept.

With a heavy sigh Lo’ak commanded his heart to settle. Today he could not afford doubts to plague his mind. Everything from here on out had to be intentional, had to send a message. Your discerning eye would be sharper to him than any other potential suitor that would court a woman. Each move would be assessed and either take him closer or further away from holding you in his arms again.

He checked over the supplies one more time, finger slipping into the pouch attached to his loincloth. Everything was in place.

“We can’t be late.” He reminded Neteyam, messing with his bun until he was satisfied with the way it sat.

“Someone is eager.” Neteyam's lips curved upwards as he leisurely took another bite of yovo. “Usually I am the one rushing us out the door.”

“Things can change. I can be responsible too.” He shucked Neteyam’s bag over his own shoulder, ready to leave with or without his brother.

Neteyam rolled his eyes, heaving himself up from his seated position.

“Yes but what good is it without her here to watch you do so, baby brother?” His fingers barely touched Lo’ak’s braids before the younger brother was swooping away and swatting at his arm. The death glare sent his way only made a deep chuckle rise in Neteyam’s chest.

Neteyam’s jesting was all in good fun but Lo’ak was far from in the mood to look at things that way. Over and over your words from the other day had echoed in his head. Your tone was drenched in steel cold enmity but even that couldn’t mask the pain that was seated in your golden orbs. His own childhood recklessness had put him at this point and now it was all he could think about.

Setting things up for today’s lesson, however, had helped. It gave him an outlet, some way to use these swirling emotions and put them into something useful. Lo’ak Sully was not one to give up easily, no matter what you said.

Gun to head Lo’ak would not be able to recite a word of what his brother spoke as they walked to the lake’s edge. The pounding of his heart was far too loud and it seemed his attention didn’t matter anyways when Neteyam’s own was easily captured by your sister. Without so much as a goodbye, he stalked towards the female Na’vi and left him behind.

The rocks were littered with various warriors and clan members in his age group. His father had thought it would be best to keep it within a demographic that they could relate to, make these lessons more personal. And yet Lo’ak had never felt more out of place. At one point in time these people had been his peers but things had been so different then. A time that was hard to remember, like a distant dream.

Only the memories of you had not been tainted with the passing of time. He blamed all of those days at the reef where his head had been filled with thoughts of you. It was hard to forget the one his heart longed for. Even his fling with Tsireya could not erase the mark you had left on him.

He finally caught sight of where you were perched next to another warrior.

Your eyes only skimmed over him for a second before turning away.

You thought that it was only a matter of time or opportunity before he would be swept away and wooed by another. Perhaps if you were right things would be so much easier. And yet the tug of his heart always brought him back to you. His inability to move on was not from a lack of effort.

So many one night stands and summer flings only for every single one to feel hollow and robotic.

You couldn’t have known that, however, and it was Lo’ak’s job to find a way to prove it to you.

There were a million different excuses you could have conjured up to avoid these lessons. Some of them had almost slipped out this morning as Talu babbled on about how excited she was to see the eldest Sully son. However, you were mature enough to face the hard truths. Coping out now would be negligent to your duties as a useful clan member. If Olo’eyktan found it vital that the next generation learned about underwater diving then it was your responsibility to add those skills to your arsenal.

It had been a couple days of successfully avoiding Lo’ak and now it seemed such a shame to break the streak. You refused to let those pesky thoughts bother you today however. You were her for one purpose and one purpose only. Master the art of free-diving and return to your new found peace and quiet.

Naturally Lo’ak was greeted with quite the welcoming party, Na’vi females coaxing him over to hear about his travels. Rolling your eyes you prayed that Neteyam wouldn’t catch wind of your sour demeanor. All your worries were for not. His charming smile never strayed from your sister. Talu was skilled at putting up a calm front but you knew her well enough to sense that she was bubbling from the inside.

You were going to hear about this conversation all night.

Relief was temporarily found when the lessons started and instruction was finally given. The water was cool against your heated skin and you enjoyed the way it made your hair dance. Drill after drill you struggled to hold your breath longer. It felt as if your lungs were about to explode as you tried to suck in more air before plunging in again.

Lo’ak and Neteyam would demonstrate then invite the crowd to mimic while they inspected and instructed along the way. It helped that you were not the only Na’vi who had no natural inclination towards these talents. Many came up to the surface choking on water and pushing hair from their face. The lake looked more like an active river with the pulsing waves and splashes that emitted from every corner.

You had to give the brothers credit. No matter how ridiculous you all must have looked they never let themselves show visible signs of judgment or even laughter.

It was far too easy to find Lo’ak in the midst. Even underwater he moved with a grace and calm that seemed so unlike him. It felt as if the water swirled to make way for him. He moved in sync with the pulse of Na’vi-made waves, cresting over them like a dance. Muscular frame floating through the abyss, he was a work of art among flailing limbs.

He looked relaxed enough to fall asleep. His descent deeper was treated like an afternoon stroll. Your own dimming supply of air faded into the background as you found yourself swimming down after him. It was hard to keep up. Every long stroke of his was at least four of yours and still it felt as if that distance only grew with every passing second.

He reached the bottom with one last kick, fingers carting through the various stones that lay there. Your brows furrowed as his own expression remained unperturbed. Finally a small smile broke loose when he caught hold of one rock in particular. It shimmered even in the daylight and Lo’ak made quick work to tuck it into the pouch at his side.

The first convulsing of your empty lungs was what broke you out of the trance. Lo’ak and his rock hunting was completely forgotten as your body screamed for oxygen. Now your turn to flail helplessly, you clawed towards the surface. Your lips pressed together, trying to focus on not giving into the urge of letting water in.

How had you gotten so far down here in the first place?

The water’s surface looked so close and yet every kick only seemed to make it further away. It was an optical illusion that had your fear spiking with every second you couldn’t take in air. You hardly registered the strong arm that wrapped around your waist until your convulsing body was flying through the water.

It was a miracle your own legs didn’t tangle with Lo’ak’s as they kicked out, but he had both of your bodies plunging upwards at a speed you could barely register. It seemed that your lungs simply could not get enough oxygen when your head finally broke through the surface. Your lungs still convulsed and your throat seized at every gasping breath.

“Just breathe. Nice and slow.” His deep voice tickled at your ear. Na’vi parted as you were floated over to the nearest shore. “There you go. In and out.”

It seemed like a simple instruction but your body refused to snap out of panic mode. Fingernails digging into his forearms you tried to dislodge the residue water from your lungs. One arm under your back and another beneath your bent knees, Lo’ak easily carried your shaking body onto shore. He sat down, gently settling you between his parted legs while cooing encouragement.

“Just focus on one breath at a time. Come on, do it with me, sevin.” His chest inflated against your back before slowly exhaling. You followed his lead. “That’s it. Try to breathe from here.” He placed his palm against your diaphragm. Eager to diminish the embarrassment that was creeping in, you zeroed in on acing his request.

Breathing this way felt more physical, stretching your lungs to a point you didn’t know they could reach but every exhale brought your heart rate one further step down.

“Very good.”

The praise washed over you like a warm flame. Finally it felt as if your body was complying with your wishes, relaxing back against his chest. Your earlier fears of drowning were quickly reshaping to seem as nothing more than overreaction. Relief was sweet.

“Slow your heart.” Lo’ak purred, tucking his chin over your shoulder as he placed one hand over your collarbones. It was dangerously close to where your breasts rose and fell.

With one swipe of your cupped hand through the water you had successfully catapulted water at his face. You dislodged yourself from his snuggling before sending him a dirty look and stomping off.

Maybe that trick worked for him back with the Metkayina girls but you knew better than to fall for his charming traps.

“Sister!” Talu shouted, darting past the crowd. You could see in the distance Neteyam standing waist deep in the lake, right where your sister had left him. “By Eywa, are you alright?”

Talu wasted no time in turning you back and forth in order to scour for injuries. Although still winded you did your best to ease her concerns.

“Mawey, I am fine.” A sharp slap to the back of your head made you hiss in surprise.

“Then what were you thinking?! Diving down like that without any experience! That was not a part of the drill!” Her nose scrunched in the way it always did when giving you a scolding.

“I know I just was…checking something…” You trailed off, feeling the heat of his gaze upon the back of your neck.

“Neteyam says that you’re not supposed to dive like that even after a few weeks of training. We have to start with the shallow-”

“I know! I know!” Your groan only earned you another glare.

“Don’t scare me like that!”

It was not a new experience to see Talu worked up. With your parents gone she was used to taking over as your caretaker and protector, although you were far beyond the years of needing such things. Regardless she had a knack for worrying. Yet another reason you had elected to never tell her about your history with Lo’ak.

“I am sorry.” It was nothing more than a mumble against her shoulder when she pulled you close.

“Thank the Great Mother Lo’ak was there.” She sighed and from over her shoulder you could see where he was now directing another Na’vi female who struggled to make it across the space with one glide.

“Yes, very lucky.” You deadpanned, rolling your eyes.

It would have been rude to leave the lesson without joining in on the following social. Or at least that is what Talu claimed when you tried to retire early. Of course you had ulterior motives for expressing how tired you were but it was not a lie either. No matter how many times you had pushed yourself to suck in greater air, to make it one more stroke, you could never get past a certain threshold. Determination and anger had only swirled higher whenever you saw Lo’ak dance through the water.

The entire ordeal had left you feeling defeated. The sooner you could crack the code on diving the sooner you could retire from these lessons. There was no denying however, how good the fire’s glow felt against your wet skin. Everyone huddled in a circle around the fire. Talu was more than happy to accept the seat Neteyam had saved for her.

If it weren’t for the fear of looking over eager you were sure she would have already been snuggled up against him for warmth. Despite your animosity towards the younger Sully brother you were happy to see Talu courted by such an honorable warrior. He gave appreciation and chivalry freely, just in the way she deserved.

You opted to take a seat at the edge of the circle, sitting close to Panyau. There was great entertainment to be found in the way some of the females slumped in disappointment when Neteyam focused his attention primarily on Talu. It took a hand to your lips to mask your giggle when one female’s tail dropped after Neteyam rejected her offering of drink.

Lo’ak was not exempt from the same attention, although he strategically placed himself among other male clan members. Perhaps it was all in your head but it appeared that for once he was getting sick of the limelight. It didn’t last for long however because sooner or later the brothers were pressed to share stories from their time with the Metkayina.

“A full grown Na’vi and he’s never flown?” Matutke questioned in disbelief, many other Na’vi mirroring his same perplexed expression.

“Never. I swear I saw his soul transcend to Eywa at first lift off. Think I still have the mark from where he dug his nails into my shoulder.” Lo’ak grinned, sounding a chorus of laughter through the crowd.

“He cried almost as much as you did your first time, baby brother.” Neteyam quipped, reaching over to squeeze the back of Lo’ak’s neck. His younger brother glared and rolled his eyes as laughter rung through the forest but he surprisingly didn’t offer a comeback.

Conversation ebbed and flowed easily among the group, old friends connecting once more. You found yourself even becoming content to sit by the fire’s glow with such jovial interactions taking place. It was nice to take the backseat and enjoy some much needed rest. Even being around Lo’ak was bearable as it seemed he had finally given up on bugging you.

That is, until things took a turn.

It all started with one of the male’s, Pe’ku, teasing Lo’ak about the new gems and shells woven in his hair. Lo’ak had playfully glared at him as his friend yammered on about how it looked as if he had taken half the reef back with him.

You did your best at tuning out the conversation when one female jumped in to defend him, talking about how particularly pretty the blue gem in his hair was. Sleep threatened to take over as Lo’ak explained how rare these pieces were, having to dive down to the deepest depths to retrieve them. Eyes rolling and head resting on your bent knees, you prayed that Talu would be ready to leave soon.

The sudden oohs and aaahs when Lo’ak pulled something from his side pouch were like lullabies to your tired ears.

And then your tail peaked with awareness. The group had grown silent and the weight of many eyes bore down on you.

“Huh? What?” You stammered, head finally lifting to take in the scene with confusion. A few giggles laced the crowd and Lo’ak gave you a crooked smile.

“Could I talk to you for a minute?” He asked gently.

“What? Why?” The sudden beam of attention surrounding you caused unease to settle.

Lo’ak gave a nervous laugh.

“Or I suppose I could ask here.” Tails and legs shifted out of the way as Lo’ak came to kneel before you. It was only then that you noticed the shimmering object in his right hand. “I started making this a few months ago, beginning when I first started to have hope of returning home.”

He laid the long necklace carefully over his thighs. These glimmering pieces were unlike anything you had ever seen and much like the blue piece in his hair, it danced under the fading streaks of the day’s light. However unlike the small piece in his hair these ones tarried among different colors. A kaleidoscope of rainbow that would never stay the same shade for long, prancing with every different bounce of light. Intricately woven into the shape of a bodice that reminded you much of the stretching branches that reached for the sun.

“It was the first time I had ever let myself imagine what it would be like to come back here. To see you again.”

The swirling gold specks in his eyes trapped your own wide eyed stare in a vice like grip.

“I thought about you every time I dove down to retrieve a piece. It was the only piece in Awa’atlu that held a flame to my memory of your beauty. Looking at the woman you have grown into today I see that it is greatly insufficient as a comparison.” A short laugh accompanied his last sentence.

The knot in your stomach flipped into acrobatics that had your heart pounding.

“For now this is all I have to offer as a courting gift. This and my vow.” The four fingered hand that rested on your thigh was warm, sending a jolt of electricity racing upwards. “Never will a day go by without my heart being full of love for you. Never a morning where I don’t ask myself what can be done to make you smile, to bring light into your life.To my dying breath I will protect you.”

It hit you then the specificity of this audience. At the sight of drooping females’ tails and piercing gazes of other males you realized that this was the mating pool. Your peers and potential suitors were all gathered here. And with them, every doe eyed female that had chased after Lo’ak since his return.

“I can not call you mine, at least not yet, but I do believe that Eywa has given me another chance to fight for that right. To fight for the honor it would be to reside by your side. So with my intentions clear and heart set I ask you to accept this first courting gift.”

The following silence was deafening. It felt as if every second ticking by was one step closer to the bomb in your chest exploding. The group enveloped you like quick sand, each lean closer tightening around you in a suffocating grip.

So when a small “yes” escaped your lips, you blamed it on the need to breathe. On the need to escape the borrading questions that would inevitably follow your rejection.

You were willing to blame it on anything.

Anything but the twinkle of excitement that struck you the second Lo’ak’s wide grin fell into place.

A/N: It has been so much fun to see y'all's reaction to this random little series I started. Please don't be shy! I love hearing your thoughts! It motivates me to keep writing<3

Taglist: @pandoraslxna @pandoraslovesworld @faintfill @rivatar @neteyamssyulang @mashiromochi @justcaptiannoodles @pocky444 @dayyzlol @kekunan @puddle-nerd @hazelwebsterboo2 @acerbicmoon @aesteticxsariana @haunting-venus @yawnetu @avatar4eva @baybaybear1 @nillikhyth @affinity101022 @tsireyasluvr @bambithewriter @delulumhaggy @kayfromthebay

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poppyseed1031 · 29 days

Text

Safe Haven

Series Part Listing Found Here

Neteyam x Original Na'vi Female Character

Summery: Seeking refuge, Xilä and her father venture to the lands of the Omatikaya clan, in the hopes that the Toruk Makto would be generous in allowing them to stay. This is her story about not only finding her strength, but finding love.

Warning: This story contains smut, violence & abuse (please don't read if these topics will affect you)

Some characters have been aged up. Neteyam in particular is 25.

Xilä is my own creation.

WAIT! Please note this part contains time skips.

Part 21 - Epilogue

‘Xilä’s in labor.’

‘My wife is about to have my kid.’

‘Holy shit, my kid. Mine…’

‘I’m going to be a father.’

‘Fuck, I don’t know if I can do this.’

To say Neteyam was freaking out was putting it mildly and- Oh fuck. His damn father-in-law was walking towards him. The last thing he wanted was for the man to see him like this.

The first time Neteyam had a full conversation with Jxo, he was ten years old.

To him, Jxo had always been a man of very few words. He never smiled, hated small talk and was extremely intimidating. But he was also incredibly respected throughout the entire clan, and well, Salveen liked him a lot, and so did bossy D’avi, so those were good enough reasons for the ten year old to think him alright.

Being the chief’s son brought its fair share of challenges. There was a time when a group of boys tried to bully him over his “golden boy” status. Neteyam had fought back- and lost.

He was ten, and a mess after. And instead of returning home, he ran to Sal’s but she’d already gone to the kitchens that evening.

Jxo, seeing his cuts and bruises beckoned him in and silently cleaned his injuries- a split lip, swollen cheek, scraped knees and bloody knuckles.

And when the man finally asked, “What happened?”

Neteyam broke down and sobbed. He was hysterical and mad at himself for not being strong, mad that he was even crying. He was a man for Eywa sake! A soldier! A warrior! Just like his dad.

But that day he was grateful that Jxo didn’t treat him like a silly kid- like everyone else did. Jxo calmed him. He was his usual gruff self and spoke to him straight. Treated him like an equal and imparted words of advice Neteyam needed to hear.

Flash forward to fifteen years later, on the night that he would become a father for the first time, Neteyam was hysterical just like that very day.

Xilä’s water had only broken half an hour ago and Neteyam was spiralling- or freaking out as his visiting brother had been teasing. Irritated and short tempered, he snapped at anyone who got too close to his mate who had been slowly pacing up and down the interior of the Tsahìk’s tent while her birthing room was being prepared.

And just like he did fifteen years ago, Jxo and his no nonsense- never one to beat around the bush, pulled him outside and called him an idiot- a skxawng, telling him he needed to to get his shit together and stop snarling and hissing at everyone like a “fucking palulukan”.

When he’d finished telling him off, he blew out a breath then continued- far gentler or as gentle the man could be, parting fatherly words of wisdom and advice with a comforting hand clasped on his shoulder.

Neteyam humbled himself and took it all in, and by the end he felt lighter, calmer and far more level headed.

With a final, “Don’t fuck it up. She needs you. So get in there, skxawng,” the soon to be father chuckled with a brisk nod, thanked the elder and headed towards his wife.

“Swear I’ve gone back twenty-five years,” Jake murmured in disbelief at his grandson in his arms. “He looks just like you did, son.”

Neytiri hastily wiped a tear that escaped her as she too stared transfixed.

“He’s got Xi’s eyes,” Neteyam announced proudly as he lingered closely.

“And her ears,” his mother noted with another sniffle. “He’s beautiful.” Neytiri gently stroked Sprout’s little fist. “Jake, you've had him long enough. It is my turn again,” she bossed her husband.

Passed over to his grandmother, their baby made a soft sound. He whined and twisted slightly before settling back into sleep.

Jxo pressed another kiss to the top of his daughter’s head as she rested against his shoulder. “I’m so proud of you, darling,” her father told her for the third time since their parents were let in. “You did good.”

Sal nodded in agreement, her own eyes swimming in happy tears as she tucked a few of Xi’s braids behind her ear and continued to fuss over her- pouring her another cup of tea to help with the pain.

Xilä was exhausted but yet a soft smile still graced her face as she watched their parents meet their son for the first time. Jxo was the first to hold him after he’d greeted her with quiet words of praise. And just like Mo’at did, when she eased her son into her father’s arms, she didn’t miss the way his eyes glistened.

The entire moment was heartwarming, yet slightly comical to a degree. She grinned as she watched her husband hover protectively, scrutinizing every move any of them made as they held their child.

Even when Jake huffed amused, stating, “You know I had four of you right? I think I know how to hold a baby,” even then Neteyam didn’t care, he still fretted and lectured and adjusted their holds.

“Oh Eywa, you’re going to be a father just like my Jxo, aren’t you?” Sal chuckled and gently adjusted her grandson with the unnecessary aid of her son-in-law who had told her for the third time to, “Watch his head.”

“Huh?” Neteyam asked, baffled, the same time Jxo released a noise of offence.

“Yes, yes. He never liked anyone holding our D’avi. So protective he was.” She hummed wistfully at the memory, eyes never leaving the little one who had taken hold of her finger. “You are so sweet, yes you are. Hi. Hi,” she whispered softly as he blinked up at her, waking from his doze.

“This does not surprise me,” Neytiri chimed in. “Neteyam was never very good at sharing the things he loves. Xilä, and now our grandson will be included as well I’m afra- Oh Sal, look at his eyes.”

“Mom!”

But she ignored him since her and Sal’s attention laid solely on baby Sprout who was yawning, tiny body stretching in Sal’s hold.

“We’d be lucky if we ever get to see the kid,” Jake said, joining in on the teasing. “Knowing our son, he’d keep them locked away.”

Neytiri frowned at this. “My sweet Xi, you won’t let him hide the two of you away all the time, yes? I would like to see my grandson whenever I so pl-”

“Mom. Of course you’d get to see him.” Then after a long pause Neteyam continued with, “But there will be boundaries, and Xilä and I would expect that you all would… respect them.”

Jake covered his grin of amusement behind his fist and Jxo hid his in Xi’s hair- both men’s eyes automatically cutting to their wives who both had identical looks of indignation. In their heads Neteyam might as well just said they weren’t allowed to see their grandson… ever.

The women looked about ready to protest, but in the end they gave their agreement without so much as a peep. Neytiri however did reach out and pull her son- who was twice her size- into a hug with a, “Eywa, my baby is all grown up now.”

“Can I have him, mother?” Xi was itching to have her son back in her arms. It hadn’t been long but she missed him already.

Neteyam was the one to pass him over. His palm found Xi’s nape, thumb stroking her cheek as he stole a kiss from her, uncaring of their audience.

Sprout stretched with another yawn, fingers opening then curling back up before he nosed at her chest instinctively, cooing a tiny fuss as his legs kicked out.

Xi tossed a thin cloth over shoulder, covering herself and the babe. She bared one breast and guided him to her nipple. Her baby latched eagerly, little mouth suckling with gusto.

She knew it was probably a bit silly to want privacy since it was a natural thing to nurse one’s baby in the open. But she wasn’t there quite yet.

Eyes closed, she listened to the quiet conversation around her and leaned heavily on her husband who curled around her.

“What have you decided to name him?” Jxo asked his son-in-law. “Have you chosen yet?

Xilä felt smiling lips against her forehead.

“Zyden. Our son’s name is Zyden.”

Neteyam made his way towards the lively activity at the southern border of the clan- eyes roaming quickly to take in every inch of the scene.

The mission fleet that had just returned were being aided- travel packs and goods were unloaded while ikran wranglers steadied the restless mountain beasts.

After being months apart, riders were greeted with open arms by their waiting families and judging by the ease of their smiling faces, Neteyam breathed a small sigh of relief that there seemed to be no pressing worries.

Tasam who’d led said mission was already talking to the chief. Jake nodded at whatever it was he’d said then clapped him on the shoulder before making his way towards another warrior.

Neteyam had missed Tasam, he realized. Seeing him after so long filled him with nostalgia, and the memory of them meeting for the first time on their very first day of Iknimaya training played in his mind.

“‘Teyam! You look good, brother,” Tasam called out. He met him halfway, crooked smile wide at the sight of his comrade and friend. “Fatherhood suits you.”

Neteyam couldn’t hide his pride as they clasped arms in greeting. “Tasam, welcome home. My son… Zyden,” he introduced, titling so that Tasam had a better view of the three month old strapped to his chest.

A soft swear word escaped Tasam when he saw the baby. He reached out and ran a knuckle along the back of Sprout’s hand in amazement. “He favors your looks.”

Zyden’s wide silver eyes tracked Tasam’s hand. He cooed loudly then promptly shoved his little fist against his mouth, making sucking sounds as he drooled all over his knuckles.

“I can’t believe I missed so much. How’s Xi? The birth went well?”

“It did, thank Eywa and she’s great. Tired but great.”

Tasam grinned at his friend’s expression. Neteyam was a hardass and as serious as they came. He always seemed to wear a mask of impassiveness that was near impossible to discern most days. Today however, the mask was nowhere to be seen.

“It’s good to see you this happy.”

“Eywa has bountifully blessed me, how could I not be?” He jerked his head, gesturing for them to walk onwards, a large protective palm resting beneath Zyden. “Tell me, how was the trip? I’m sorry we missed you before you left. I didn’t know you’d be gone so long.”

“I share the same sentiments. As for the trip, it was… interesting. The Sarentu clan… they’re in a bad way. The couple months we stayed we managed to make some good changes, but they still need all the help they can get. I’m hoping another fleet can ride out before the end of the week.”

“It’s that bad?”

“Their clan is but a fraction of ours and they’re unable to help themselves properly. They have maybe five- six, capable hunters?” he said exasperated. “The clan is exposed. Not enough warriors to provide protection. Not enough hunters to provide food. It is a wonder they have survived this long.”

Neteyam considered his words. “It is things like this that make me glad my father reached out and started this entire initiative. Their chief said as much back at Awa’atlu. He came mainly in the hope that would help.”

With the nearest cluster of communities in sight, Tasam slowed his stroll causing Neteyam to do the same.

During their walk the father had kept periodically checking in on his son who seemed settled and content against him. Looking down, he saw that Zyden’s eyelids were slowly drooping, little mouth quivering in his sleep as though he were feeding.

“Do you think Kiri would like bellsprigs? As a gift I mean… It's kind of rare here but bountiful near this clearing I found back at Sarentu.”

The sudden topic change had Neteyam blinking in confusion.

“Um, sure? I think she’d like them. Wait, aren't those extremely dangerous to harvest?”

“They are- were,” Tasan held up his palm showing off a deep gash that was still healing, “but it’s Kiri. I’d do anything for her.”

“Huh… You really like her, don’t you?” He got no response and halted, noting his friend was no longer walking beside him. “What is it?”

“I-” Tasam looked uncomfortable now and was no longer meeting his gaze. “I-” He hesitated again and rubbed at his brow, frowning deeply, almost as if he’d forgotten what he was supposed to say.

“Tas-”

“I wish for your permission to court Kiri,” he rushed out.

A long uncomfortable silence proceeded before Neteyam found his voice again. “You- uh, well why are you asking me? Shouldn’t you be asking my parents?”

“I’m planning on it. I asked the chief if I could meet with him and your mother after I give my full report tomorrow,” he scratched his neck, “I suppose he knows what I’m going to ask. Your father gave me this weird, blank look then sort of reluctantly agreed… But I- you see…”

It was jarring and almost amusing to Neteyam to see his friend so scatterbrained and fidgety. Was he… nervous? Shit, he was.

“What I’m trying and evidently failing to say here, is- I care for your sister. She has my whole heart and… and although you are my commanding officer and my future chief and I have the highest of respect for you… You’re also my closest friend, and as Kiri’s brother, I’d very much like to have your permission in addition to your parents’.”

Eywa. Neteyam really wished his mate was here. He was not good with these kinds of situations. Not when it came to his sisters. No wonder Jxo always looked like he was about ready to punch his face most times.

Kiri and Tasam…? His sister and his- well who was Neteyam kidding, Tasam was as good as his best friend. Why did this all seem like a surprise to him though? He somehow knew it would be coming… didn’t he?

He thought back to every interaction between the two. The man was smitten with Kiri, and Kiri… well, Kiri was near unrecognizable around Tasam.

He made her happy.

That was all that mattered, no?

“You have my permission.”

Tasam’s jaw fell a little, then he straightened up when Neteyam’s face turned mildly murderous.

“But you should know, my sister is precious. I don’t care if you hurt her unintentionally or not… you know what I’m capable of.”

It should’ve been difficult to take the mighty Neteyam’s threats to heart when he had an adorable infant strapped to his chest. But Tasam still felt the sting of his words.

“Are you nervous to ask my parents?” Neteyam asked when they’d made it to the heart of Home Camp.

“Am I nervous to ask the clan’s Olo'eyktan and Olo'eykte if I could court their eldest daughter? That’s a joke right?” Tasam huffed. “Course I’m nervous. But I’ve been wanting this for Kiri and I for so long now. That and I already told Kiri I was going to ask her when you all got back.”

Neteyam laughed, accidentally waking his son who woke with a startled cry. He was quick to comfort the baby with soothing strokes and pats on the back. He also gave him his index finger to hold which of course Zyden instantly put in his mouth.

“You told Kiri you were going to ask her before you asked for my parents permission?”

Tasam back slapped his arm, careful not to jostle the baby. “If I remember correctly, you did about the same thing with your Xilä.”

“Shit, that’s right.”

“And worse… It was all the clan could talk about for months, some still to this very day. No meeting of the parents, no announcements, no ceremonies, no-”

“Alright alright, you made your poi-”

“You’re back!” a distant voice called excitedly.

Kiri’s smile was almost giddy as she made her way closer and from the look of Tasam’s he was probably- nope, definitely worse.

Ugh. Neteyam was suddenly nauseous. While the duo reunited- lovestruck gazes locked on each other, he focused on his son who was still biting away on his finger, drool leaking down his chin and along Neteyam’s palm.

“Your aunty Kiri and her new boyfriend are going to make your poor daddy sick, aren't they,” he whisper-sang to his son. “Yes they are.”

Zyden smiled up at this father as if he understood, gurgling while flashing his gums.

“Oh here, let me help you with that.” Tasam swooped in with ease and hefted the heavy basket Kiri had been straining with.

“Thank you.” Her cheeks were flushed and she bit her lip to tame her smile while she and the warrior continued to fail at being non obvious lovesick fools.

Zyden’s coo broke their spell.

“‘Teyam!” Kiri exclaimed as if shocked to see him standing there.

“Kiri.”

“And Zyden!” His sister snagged the baby right out of his carrier and held him close, squishing his cheek against hers as she rocked him.

Zyden looked slightly alarmed, eyes wide at the sudden movement but he did not cry.

Neteyam simply sighed at the pair all the while and of course, the mighty Tasam was just about melting at the sight.

“What are you up to, my love?”

The baby turned and gave his mother a cheeky grin that showed off all four of his baby teeth and it just about melted her heart.

But Xi wasn’t fooled by his cuteness, she saw the glint of mischief shining through his expression.

The determined thing waited until she was busy folding another large sheet before he went off again, crawling towards his most recent fasciation.

“Zyden.” Xilä’s tone was soft but firm. “Uh-uh. No playing over there.”

Zyden released an unhappy whine at the reprimand. And despite his mother’s warning, he still reached and held onto the bottom of the wooden shelf to pull himself up on wobbly legs.

Even though the shelf that housed her husband’s weapons was sturdy and Xi knew the baby couldn’t reach anything, she still corrected her son- letting him know it was dangerous.

His little leg tried to lift, dangling with nowhere to perch. Not getting anywhere, he stomped his foot in frustration, though it didn’t stop him from trying again.

“Zyden Sully!” Xi clicked her tongue and shook her head. “Uh-uh, mama said no. Come down from there.”

At that, his tiny face scrunched up in anger, bottom lip pouting as tears rapidly pooled along his lash line. He pointed at the shelf and babbled his displeasure.

“I know. I know. But you’re too young for those. When you’re older I’m sure daddy will love teaching you to use them.”

Zyden drew a long, silent breath then promptly wailed louder with his head thrown back. One would swear she’d just ruined his entire life.

“Aw, come here, my love.”

She could sense a full blown tantrum brewing and since Sal had told her earlier Zyden missed his afternoon nap, Xi expected her son would turn tired and cranky right around this time.

Laundry forgotten and scattered around her, she gave him her full attention, beckoning him over.

“Zyden, my heart, come here.”

Listening, he carefully fell to his butt and crawled towards her. “Mma-ma,” he cried, tiny tail flicking back and forth as he moved.

How was he so perfect?

Xi gathered him into her arms the second he was within reach and smothered him with kisses- forehead, cheeks, nose, angry twitching ears.

“See? This is why we shouldn’t miss nap time, my love. So cranky,” she cooed in a singsong tone.

He rubbed his eyes and yawned tiredly- proving her point, then impatiently pawed at the cloth that covered her chest.

“Hang on, hang on.”

Settling him against her breast, he nursed more for comfort than hunger and while he fed, Xi stared down at him in adoration. She hummed a song and wiped away his lingering tears, thumb sliding across baby soft skin.

She marvelled over his wild curls while brushing them off his forehead and laughed quietly when he offered her his little foot for her to kiss, tiny toes wiggling cutely.

Nipple still in mouth, he smiled and reached up to pat her cheek, fingers gentle and stroking much like she’d done to him.

The action caused a tiny pang of sadness to hit her. He was growing up so fast- too fast.

Every one of his milestones filled her with pride- his first smile, first laugh, first word. She may have shed a tear or two over his first tooth… and maybe over the second, third and fourth ones too. And although she was eager for all the other firsts- especially his first steps, each new milestone always reminded her that he wouldn’t remain a baby forever, so she made sure to relish every moment.

The clanking sounds of their tent’s chimes alerted her that someone was here, and then the beaming face of her husband entering their home came into view.

“I’m home!”

Meal forgotten, Zyden grappled and used her top to help pull himself seated, legs and arms kicking and flailing excitedly at the sight of his daddy, gums and four little teeth proudly on display.

“Look who’s here, Sprout. Who’s that?”

He glanced back at her and pointed at Neteyam who was hurriedly putting away his things.

Zyden prattled a garble of baby talk, tail slashing so fast, Xi thought it’d flick right off.

Unable to contain himself any longer and with a loud gleeful shriek, their son crawled right out of her lap and charged full speed across the tapestry-covered ground, towards his father- all traces of his mini tantrum gone.

Neteyam laughed while scooping him up and tossed him in the air before settling him high on his chest. “Why are you naked, huh little man?” He smacked noisy kisses to Zyden’s chubby cheeks making the baby squeal happily.

“Your son figured out how to remove his tewng this evening.” Xi adjusted her top and picked up a towel to resume her folding. “Every time I put it back on, he took it off and the game seemed never ending, so I let him win for today.”

“Oh yeah?” Neteyam grinned proudly, as if she’d told him his son had accomplished some massive achievement. “You’re so clever, Zyden. Daddy’s so proud of you.”

Xilä paused and simply stared at her two favourite people in the universe. Eywa, did she love them with her entire being.

“Mmba-Da-da.” Zyden babbled, tiny palms smacking Neteyam’s cheek and nose and mouth until he spotted and made a grab for the lone string of beads in his daddy’s hair.

“That’s right, Sprout, that’s me! I’m daddy.”

Only recently and after a lot of coaxing, Zyden had started saying dada. Xilä didn’t think she’d ever seen her husband cry that much when he’d said it, but then again she herself was a sobbing sap when his first word was mama.

Neteyam made his way over and crouched down to greet his wife. She kissed him back and they both broke out into laughter when Sprout leaned over to do the same- drooly lips open against her cheek in his version of a kiss.

As soon as he was set down, Zyden crawled off towards a forgotten toy. He tossed it away then charged after it, finding fun in doing it over and again.

“I spoke to Lo’ak and Tsireya this morning,” Neteyam said conversationally as he started helping her fold the laundry.

“‘Teyam,” she interrupted, using her “mom voice” as her husband so liked to call it. Xi had gotten distracted by the article he’d chosen to fold.

“What?” he asked in faux innocence. Neteyam snatched up another one after folding it to his best and shot her a naughty wink.

Her mate always went for her undercloths first, forever eager to handle the intimate, flimsy things. She shook her head and snickered while he continued on, telling her about Awa’atlu updates.

The pair chatted about their day- him informing of the new shipment of goods they were preparing to send to the Sarentu and Ta'unui clans, and her prattling on about her early morning lesson with Mo’at and then filling him in on their son’s fascination with his shelf of weapons.

At some point Zyden had grown bored of his toy and fussily demanded his daddy’s attention. Neteyam dramatically tossed him amidst a pile of clean furs, keeping him entertained as they fought playfully.

Later on, it was a battle to get Zyden to put his tewng back on, much less keep it on, but soon after, the little family of three made their way to the communal dinner, with their baby babbling the entire way there.

As if he belonged to her, Neytiri plucked their son out of his father’s arms the second they entered the clearing. Zyden was passed around from grandparent to grandparent before he finally settled contentedly next to his aunty Tuk who fussed over him as if she were a grown up.

It was honestly quite cute seeing her break off tiny pieces of soft root vegetables and feed them to him. She offered him sips of her water which just splashed right down his chest and scolded him lightly when he ate too fast.

Neytiri, who was nearer, kept careful watch and intercepted fast grabby hands whenever Zyden went after something he wasn’t supposed to. Neteyam chuckled from his spot when his son made a dive for poor Tasam’s teylu.

The baby was most unhappy when his grandmother lifted him away with a chiding. He even gave Tuk what looked like a glare of betrayal after she giggled saying, “Zyyyyden. You don’t even have enough teeth to eat that, silly.”

Midway through their meal, D’av and her family showed up. L’eya- toddler on a mission, plopped herself into Xi’s lap to excitedly show her a bug she’d found on the way. “It- it prewdy huh, aunty Xi? An it-it glows and eberyting too. See?”

Xi oohed and awed over the bug in her niece’s palm and Neteyam did the same- pausing his conversation with Jake when she crawled into his lap as well, before eventually running off to do the same with her grandparents.

“You’re late. You hate being late,” Xi teased her sister who settled beside her. She frowned when she really looked at her sister. “Are you unwell? You’re pale. Here let me see your-”

D’avi brushed her fussing off. “Stop that. If mother catches you she’s going to come over here and I don’t need that right now. You’re forgetting Yalnïk and I have two toddlers to wrangle, can you blame me for being la- why are you looking at me like that?”

The older woman dropped all pretense when she saw her sister’s shocked expression turn into a knowing grin.

Sighing in defeat, D’avi glanced around their family huddle to make sure they weren’t being overheard by their parents.

Their mother and father thankfully, both had their hands full. Jxo was eating while balancing Zyden on his knee- the baby focused as he chewed away on a massive piece of fruit and Sal had both L’eo and L’eya who she was fawning over and feeding out of her own meal.

“You can’t tell our parents yet,” D’avi barely whispered.

“D’av.” Xi’s tail couldn’t keep its cool, it sprung high in excitement. “So you’re actually-”

“Yep… pregnant. I’m pretty sure it happened the night when Bwiin went and snitched on us.” She scoffed. “Our party was not that loud.”

Xilä remembered that night. She breastfed so she didn’t indulge in the sweetened wines that were being passed around… D’avi however had just stopped with her little ones, so she went all out, and was pretty much the life of the party. They’d gotten so rowdy, Bwiin, their mother’s nosy and grouchy friend had gone and reported them for disturbing the peace.

Xi bit her lip. “The night you got drunk at Leati’s bacholet party? And Yalnïk had to come get you?” She butchered that word for sure- every time too.

It was a surprise that Leati even wanted to take part in the odd human custom, but Xilä realized that Ze’lu brought out a side to the woman that outshined her cold and somewhat mean disposition.

“Yeah. I jumped my mate the moment he tossed my ass in bed... Ugh, and I’ve been so, so cautious, Xi and the one time, the one time I forget to have the damn tea. Bam. Pregnant.” She sighed. “Oh Eywa, truly I pray it’s not twins again.”

“Are you happy about this though? I can’t tell.”

D’avi’s eyes turned watery. “Of course I’m happy. To be honest I don’t think it’s completely registered yet, but yes. I’m so happy, Xi. And Yalnïk, ugh. The man is so damn excited. He’s already hovering and-”

“D’av! Do you want ovumshrooms?”

“Yes, please,” she answered her mate who was currently putting out their food. “He’s the best isn’t he? I mean look at his face, and his body. I’m the luckiest woman in this entire clan, aren’t I?”

Xi smiled, she felt the exact same way about her own husband.

She turned towards her son when she heard his cry of frustration. Tuk had just taken something out of his hand when he tried shoving it in his mouth. Zyden seemed to be telling her off in his baby speech, and kept reaching for it, whines turning fussier despite Tuk calmly telling him it wasn’t food.

“Zyden,” Neteyam called from beside her.

Their baby pointed at Tuk, as if begging his daddy to make her give it back to him.

Xilä knew he wouldn’t last much longer. He was tired and cranky and fighting sleep ever since he missed his afternoon nap. She watched him struggle to decide whether to cry or not. Luckily, Zyden was distracted by L’eo’s giggle, so he crawled off towards cousins.

L’eya was all smiles for the baby. She poked his nose in greeting, mouth full as she chewed her food. L’eo offered him some of the buoyfish he’d been feasting on but Sal was quick to give her youngest grandchild a piece of a mashed bean pod instead.

D’avi’s low groan pulled Xi’s attention away from their children. Her nose was wrinkled at the meat in her husband’s leaf plate.

“Sorry, sorry.” Yalnik moved his plate around so it wasn’t too close to her and struck up a conversation with Tasam and Kiri who were on his other side.

“How are you feeling this time around?” Xi asked. She handed her sister a piece of cider root to chew on.

“My morning sickness feels more like all day sickness and I’ve got this lingering headache that refuses to go away. I’ve drank every tea possible to help ebb my symptoms and they all refuse to work. Can I come by the healer tents tomorrow? So you can check me over, make sure everything’s okay? I’ve been putting off doing that.”

“Of course, D’av.”

“Eywa. Mother will be mighty pleased. Just look at her now.”

Sal was in her element. The grandmother had all three little ones surrounding her. It was impossible to miss the happiness radiating off of her.

At home, Zyden was usually clingy with Xilä and she relished in the feeling of him being attached to her, whether it was to be carried or simply wanting her attention at all times. But she wouldn’t be lying when she said she also loved seeing Sprout socialize and bond with their family- especially with his grandparents. It was something she certainly never had growing up.

Another fifteen minutes passed before it finally happened.

“Xiiii!” Tuk groaned dramatically as she hefted and carried a wiggly crying Zyden from under his arms. The baby was already reaching out and calling for her. “Sprout wants you. Oof! He’s getting so heavy,” she half laughed, half huffed when handing him over.

“Hello, my love, are you being a naughty Na'vi for your aunty Tuk?”

Zyden didn’t waste any time, he stuck his little fist right down her top and gave a frustrated grizzle.

“Thanks for taking care of him for us, Tuk.”

The little girl beamed at Xi’s praise, and giggled when Neteyam attacked her with his own brotherly affection before she dashed off.

Xilä quickly tugged down the front of her top and Zyden eagerly found and latched onto her nipple to nurse. She smiled when his small sticky hand rested on her breast as his eyes instantly began to droop.

“I’m surprised he lasted this long,” Neteyam joked. He leaned over to kiss and nuzzle Zyden’s chubby cheek as he suckled, soft feeding sounds and breathy baby gulps making him and Xi smile at each other.

L’eo appeared not too long after, food grease shining all over his face and chest. “I all done wid my food,” he told his mother proudly.

D’avi chuckled. “Good job, baby.” She pulled him closer and wiped his face and hands despite his squirming.

When he made his escape, he approached his aunty. “I play with Zyhen, pwease, addy Xi.”

“Aw, I’m sorry, sweetie, but he’s falling asleep.” Xi caressed his cheek in apology. “You’ll get to see him tomorrow, okay?”

Poor L’eo looked so disappointed. His pout deepened when he turned to find his sister amongst their family, only to find she was already dozing in her grandfather’s lap.

“C’mere bud,” Yalnïk reached out and scooped him up and D’avi turned to give them both her attention.

Xi covered herself back up when she felt her nipple slip from Zyden’s lips.

“Oh he’s out,” Neteyam laughed. He gathered their milk drunk baby in his arms and wiped away the trail of liquid that ran down his chubby cheek and into his little neck folds.

“He’s growing up too fast,” Xi sighed, leaning against her husband to peer at their son. Their baby was sprawled without a care in the world, sticky coated skin, pudgy little tummy on display, tail curled up contentedly. “I feel like I blinked and now look at him. Gosh I’m going to miss this age.”

Neteyam nodded in agreement. He kissed her forehead then whispered, “I know the feeling all too well... But you know there’s a solution for that, right?”

“What do you mean?” she murmured, perching her chin on his bicep.

“You could always let me put another baby in you. Then another when they grow out of that age, and another when-”

Xilä pressed her fingers to his lips and snickered at his response. “May I remind you we are surrounded by our family. Don’t start with that if you’re not able to do anything about it right now,” she teased back.

A dangerous glint shined in his eyes, nostrils flaring at her words.

“I’m not teasing, Xilä. I'm completely serious.”

“Oh I know. If it were up to you you’d keep me round and pregnant for an eternity, right?” She tucked a braid behind his ear, not so accidentally brushing the tip of his pointed ear with her thumb and smiled when he gave a subtle shudder.

“You’re playing with fire, baby,” he warned but she simply gave him an innocent look and pretended she didn’t know what he was talking about.

“But on a serious note,” she whispered, “is it terrible that I just want to enjoy it being the three of us for now? I’m not saying no indefinitely, after Zyden I know for sure I want more, but he’s not even a year old yet, he hasn’t even taken his first steps. I want to give him as much attention and love as I can until we decide for sure to grow our family.”

“Nothing’s wrong with that, sweetheart. I like that plan.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhmm.” He sensed a lingering sadness from her, so to lighten the mood, he teased, “And anyway I’ll get to focus on getting my practice in while fucking you senseless.”

“Neteyam!” Her face bloomed in mortification and she glanced around to make sure he wasn’t overheard.

There’s that smile he so loved to see.

True to her word, L’eo got to see Zyden the next day.

The boys played loudly with the many block pieces their grandfather had crafted for them. L’eya seemed to find them too rowdy for her, so she sat in her own little world with her toys until Tuk had come by and joined in with her.

Xilä loved the sound of her son’s laugh and she loved the sounds of her home filled with children playing.

Zyden squealed and clapped excitedly when L’eo knocked down their pile of wooden blocks and then the two went back to building it all over again- it was mostly L’eo, but Zyden sure helped by handing him each piece.

They were so stinking cute.

A little later on when he seemed to have grown bored, her son sought her out. He crawled after her and patted her calf, tiny palms opening and closing- asking for up.

The second she lifted him, he cuddled her, little face snuggled into her neck and Xi soaked it all up. It was her favourite feeling in the universe.

Neteyam looked up from his whittling and was quick to join the two. He tried burying his face on the other side of her neck, but Zyden wasn’t having it.

Their son pushed his daddy’s face away along with a mess of protesting gibberish that had sounds like mama and dada scattered in between.

“I want cuddles too, you can’t have her to yourself,” Neteyam quarrelled with the biggest grin on his face.

“Ma-ma!” Zyden argued back fiercely. He leaned his head against hers- their cheeks squished together while he kept batting away his father’s affections for her.

“Ah,” Neteyam dodged another fist. “I’ll have you know she was mine first.”

“Ma-ma!” Zyden’s both arms locked around her neck. He gave her a wet sloppy kiss on the cheek and grinned wide, and those four little teeth just about killed her.

“Alright, alright. I’m jealous now. Come here, little man, I’ve got a bone to pick with you.” Neteyam stole him away and dramatically rolled them around on the floor. The baby shrieked and burst into breathy giggles as they play-fought.

Feeling like he was missing out on the fun, L’eo ran and jumped in with a roar. “I rescue you Zyhen!” To which Neteyam pulled him in too.

Xilä watched on and called out “oh no’s!” from the sidelines. Through her laughs she couldn’t help feel a bit emotional. Neteyam was an incredible mate, but he was an even better father.

When he cried out asking for her to come save him, she eagerly and happily joined in until they were all a pile of giggling limbs.

Pillow muffling her screams, Xilä arched as her mate licked her into another mind shattering orgasm.

It was the middle of the night and she’d already woken on the cusp of one, finding her legs thrown over his broad shoulders with his head bobbing eagerly between her thighs, licking and sucking like a starved man… and he hadn’t moved since.

“‘Teyam.” Shuddering as she came down from another high, she feebly tried to push his head away, hips failing to escape his clutches. She was too sensitive and he didn’t seem like he wanted to stop any time soon.

Yet he only tightened his grips and spread her legs wider, holding her firm with a bossy growl. “One more.”

One more. One more. That’s what he’d said the last two times.

Her voice hitched when he nipped then sucked her clit hard, silencing her protests. He stretched her with his fingers, adding one after the other until she was stuffed with all three- digits curling and fucking her just right.

White noise clouded her ears and her eyes rolled into her head. Body seizing up as it quickly prepared to shatter again, she struggled to keep her moans at bay. Her poor knuckles were painfully white from their tight grips- one fisted in her mate’s hair, holding on for dear life while the other squeezed the pillow she was biting into.

She could just about cry when Neteyam slowed his pace. The wicked man wanted to draw out her pleasure and no matter how much she tried to ride his fingers faster, she failed.

He pushed her hand away when she dared to reach for her throbbing clit. Eywa. She was near delusional at this point.

“Mine,” he’d snapped when she tried to touch again, and then as if teaching her a lesson, he simply reduced his actions even further, fingers curling deep and dragging torturously slow while he lazily lavished her clit with his tongue.

Turned into a mewling weepy mess, she was completely at his mercy. It seemed almost never ending.

Embarrassingly loud slick sounds emitted with every motion of his fingers making her arousal drench everything- his hand, face, her thighs, their sheets- shit, she’d just changed these sheets.

Xilä’s orgasm blindsided her, making her cry out and damn near suffocate her husband with her thighs as her entire body seized up.

She was almost sure she’d momentarily blacked out too, because when she finally came to her senses, her deep, heavy panting had calmed and the strong ripples of pleasure and orgasmic aftershocks had ebbed away, leaving her with lingering tingles.

Neteyam, as if he had all the time in the world, was sucking his fingers dry. It shouldn’t have been a sexy sight, but damn if it was.

Damn him.

Then the asshole dived back down to lick her clean.

WACK.

“Baby!” His jaw dropped and he was staring at her in surprise.

Xi had actually smacked him with her pillow when he had the audacity to run his tongue across her oversensitive clit. He got the message this time. He snickered and just moved along to lick away the slick that coated her inner thighs instead.

Through their bond, tsaheylu still intact from when they went to sleep, she felt him. Like a rolling storm, he was all consuming. He was so pent up and clouded her with his intensity, she wouldn’t be surprised if he combusted just then and there. It felt good to be the cause of it, honestly.

“You didn’t come?” Shit. She’d tried to move but her legs felt like flopping fish.

He shook his head and got up on his knees. She was greeted by an angry leaking dick, throbbing and needy in front her face.

Xilä licked her lips, and between her thighs pulsed at the sight of him. Sitting up, she watched him wrap a hand around himself and give a firm stroke, thumb swiping across his tip before dragging back down again.

Although she was still a bit light headed, just like he’d done earlier, she batted his hand away to grip him herself.

At this he let out a pleased little groan and threaded his fingers through her hair. His hips gave a sudden snap and his dick twitched when she pressed a teasing kiss to the head of it- barely even making contact.

Xilä smirked when she felt his fingers tighten in her hair, pulling slightly at her roots. “Xilä,” he growled, sending a rippling shiver down her spine.

“What?” she asked cunningly, “No teasing?”

Through their bond she felt his building frustration, his impatience, his need. Tail circling her wrist, he got her moving.

So bossy.

She stroked his length and found her pace, setting a rhythm that had her mate quickly blowing out puffs of air as he seemed to be trying to keep his composure.

Cute, she thought. With her free hand she stroked his tail- its tip still wrapped around her wrist, both hands moving in tandem.

“Xi-”

Reading his mind, her eyes found his own, locked and dangerous and just what he needed to get closer to his peak.

He was practically fucking her fist by now, and damn near exploded when her other hand left his tail to squeeze the base of his dick.

Xi licked him again, tongue running up the underside of him, along a vein, then circling its head. That was it, he couldn’t control himself any longer, he came with a blinding force- a strangled endearment, falling from his lips.

Hot seed spluttered from him, painting his stomach, Xi’s hand and her pouty lips, a drop even landed on her nose.

A feeling of victory flooded Xilä. She loved seeing her mate come undone, loved seeing him lose control. A side of him she was the only one to ever see.

She stroked him all the way through, till his shudders ceased and his body grew lax and so pliant she was able to pull him down, his massive frame covering her entirely.

Their lips met in the middle for a searing, all consuming kiss. Xi could taste herself on his lips, she was sure it was the same for him.

Breaking apart for a much needed breath of air, Neteyam nipped her bottom lip. “Sorry I woke you up.”

Xilä laughed. “No you’re not.”

He grinned too. “No I'm not.”

After they basked in the afterglow for another couple minutes, they cleaned themselves up, using water and washcloths to bathe each other, mouths unable to stop stealing kisses and hands unable to stop caressing.

Returning from checking on their son, he helped her strip their hammock and fasten a clean pelt before they both climbed in- him pulling her on top of his chest immediately.

“Sprout was still asleep?” she asked, breaking him from his thoughts.

“Mhmm, out like a light.” He kissed her forehead and she snuggled closer.

Somewhere between sleep and wake, Xi heard a hushed whisper.

“Mama?”

She felt a familiar weight sat on top of her and the gentle pat, pat of a little palm on her cheek.

“Mama. Mama! Mommy wake up, I have to tell you something really portent.”

“Mmm, I’m up, I’m up.” Xilä blinked awake to the view of her son’s sweet face. Exhaustion momentarily forgotten, she pulled him into her arms and across her chest, peppering kisses all over his cheeks. “Good morning, my love.”

Zyden struggled a bit under his mother’s smothering, trying to wiggle out. “Mama stop,” he giggled. “Guess what?” His voice was dramatically hushed despite it only being the two of them in the room.

“What?” she asked just as quietly to match his energy.

“Daddy say I can go fishing today!” Zyden shared, tail flicking in uncontrollable excitement behind him. As if reminding himself, he made a shhhh sound and pressed a finger to his lips before continuing softer. “And- and I get to use my new bow too. You know the one mama? The big boy one granpather Jxo make me? An- an L’eo and L’eya go too but no Js’avi, cause he-he too small still and then daddy show me how to catch the fish!”

Xilä gasped dramatically as if she didn’t already know all of this. “Oh my Eywa! That’s all so exciting, my love!”

“Yah! I- I catch you a really big fish, mama. Den you cook it.”

“I like that idea. What kind of fish should I make?” She smiled tiredly and smoothed her hand over his hair. He looked so much like his daddy.

“Zyden!” Neteyam walked into their room, hands on his hips with a disappointed expression. “I thought I told you we’d tell your mama later. She just fell asleep, son.”

Zyden jumped at being caught, his sweet excited face turning into one of guilt. Brow puckered into a tiny frown, he pointed at his mother, then said as if it made all the sense in the world, “But mama awake now daddy. So I tell her now. Later is too far.”

Both parents couldn’t hold their amusement.

This kid.

“Alright little man, come on.” Neteyam grabbed him up and hung him upside down. Tickling his tummy, he made their son break out in a fit of uncontrollable giggles.

“Da-ha-ddyy!”

When he set him on his feet, his father said seriously, “Go on and have your breakfast. All fishermen need to have a good meal before they set off for the day.”

“Ohhhkaaay! Bye mama!”

Neteyam blew out a breath and made his way over to Xi. “Sorry. I swear I only turned my back away for a second and then he disappeared.”

“It’s fine,” she assured, stretching her neck and puckering her lips, begging for a kiss as if he hadn’t kissed her only three hours ago when she’d gotten home.

Her husband obliged and when he pulled back he said, “We missed you last night.”

“Me too. I'll try not to make it a habit, but I was really needed for the night shift. I’m sorry it was so last minute too.”

“Stop,” he ordered, nipping her lip in rebuke.

“But it was date night… We made a promise to never miss a date night. I feel terrible. I promise I’ll make it up to you and-” She was about to apologize again so he silenced her with another kiss.

“Xilä. It’s your job, baby. You were needed. It's okay. And anyway, Sprout and I had an awesome guys night.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm.” His voice drew to a deep whisper, “Although if you keep insisting on making it up to me, I’d really really like to fuck you later. It’s been ages.”

Xi’s snicker was interrupted by a yawn. “You’re being dramatic. Oh that does remind me though, I need to get more Qla’ira root. I’m running out.”

Neteyam got quiet. He perched his head on her chest, golden eyes almost pleading. “Or you could… not?”

“Behave.” She batted him playfully and ran her fingers through his braids.

“I’m being serious. You know Zyden’s been asking for a sibling lately.”

“I know, but we agreed when he turned five, to start trying again, remember?”

“Technically, it’d be the same thing… If we get a head start from now, he’ll probably be five by the time-”

“Zyden will be four in a couple months,” she laughed, cupping his face.

They heard a crash, followed by a, “Daaaddy! I had a naccident!”

“Duty calls.” Neteyam lifted and hovered over her. “Get some sleep, alright? We’ll see you later. And we’re definitely not done talking about this.”

“Daaadeeeee!”

“Coming!”

Xi frowned, when he left. She didn’t know why she was even fighting this decision. She herself was ready for another child- and not just because of her mate’s pleas or their son’s little saddened face when he asked them how come he, “didn’t have a baby like L’eo and L’eya had Js’avi.”

Eywa had told her as much that she was ready as well. Her bond with the Great Mother had been growing stronger and stronger everyday.

So what was stopping her?

Later that night, during a family dinner, the kids excitedly ranted about everything that happened that day- all talking over each other and fighting over the attention of the adults.

It was a full family night. Neteyam and Xi’s home was not only filled with Jake and his family or Jxo and Sal. There was D’av, Yalnik and their three little ones. Also Yalnik’s twin and his mate along with their brood of five kids- who had also gone fishing.

Xilä saluted the men for having to take on so many of them. She wished she got to see them at it, since apparently they’d roped along Tasam and Ze’lu to get in some practice.

Speaking of, Tasam and Kiri had even joined their rowdy bunch tonight- newly mated after their courtship. Their story was incredibly sweet. They’d gone the traditional route and followed through the steps of the Omatikaya’s customs.

Their love was blinding and Xi was so happy for them. Although it had been years now, she still noticed the one or two times poor Spider would shoot them concealed glances. She was rooting for her friend to find his happiness too.

“An den I shot my bow like,” Sprout made a dramatic reenactment, “an VOOSH! My arrow went so far into the water, and- and-”

“And the same time I shot mine too!” L’eo chimed in. “And it hit a fish!”

“Oh my! You caught one, L’eo?” Sal asked, intrigued by their story.

“No,” the boy said sadly. “The fish swam away. L’eya got one though.”

The little girl blushed when the room broke out into cheers for her.

Xilä loved nights like these. Their family dinners were always a boisterous affair. She felt entirely whole- as if she belonged. A feeling she fought to find for years.

She watched her son seated in the cradle of his dad’s legs. They were both talking animatedly with Mo’at whose aged face was nothing but smiles.

Something within Xi suddenly clicked. That uncertain emotion that had been plaguing her now had an answer and a flare of guilt followed the revelation.

Stephan had taught her an expression once, “Waiting for the other shoe to drop.”

It made sense now why she herself kept putting off having another baby, because that’s what she’d been doing, wasn’t she?

Waiting for the other shoe to drop?

Waiting for things to go wrong, waiting to be told she no longer belonged. Waiting to see if she and her son would be casted out.

A weight lifted off her shoulders now that she knew what was holding her back. Stupid thoughts that would bear no fruits.

She had her whole life ahead of her. One filled with the joy and love of her and her mate, and of their children. Xi stared at her son, her son. Of course she’d wanted more of him, she Neteyam truly made ridiculously cute babies.

Before she shook off her thoughts and returned to the present, she gave herself a mini metal pep talk- the reassurance that always seemed to help the times her mind clouded in darkness.

She was here.

She was safe.

She was loved.

And she had found, her Safe Haven.

Once again, my deepest thanks goes out to all of you who have taken this journey with me, to all of you who have read, and liked and commented.

Special thanks to all who gave suggestions and ideas. I love interacting and hearing your thoughts!

I poured my heart and soul into this story and the unbelievable feedback I've gotten- there's no greater gift.

Although there is one more part I'd like to put out- "a slice of life" to specify, I am officially marking this story as Complete!

Here's to more stories in the future ahead. 💛

Tags:@jakesullyfatjuicypeen@granddearduck@riatesullironalite@strawberri-blonde@earthling55 @innercreationflower @duckworthbean @gyuventure @btsiguess-kpop@blkmystery@neteswife@luvteyams@isnt-itstrange@erenjaegerwifee@faatxma@ivysully@bakugouswaif@pinkpantheris @mntx666@ironcaptainnataliabarnes

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poppyseed1031 · 4 months

Text

Melting - Chapter 4

Neteyam X F reader, aged up!

Emotionally guarded reader, pining, sexual thoughts, slow burn, kiss! Angst

AN/ I'm so sorry for the long time in between chapters! Lots has been going on, but the series is still going!

It had been weeks since that morning at your hut, and Neteyam was hooked. Every inch of him, every fiber of his being was consumed by you. You were so different than what people thought and said, underneath the cold shoulders, the bared teeth, and the hisses, was a soft, kind woman who was just begging for love, to be accepted, to be seen.

And Neteyam saw you.

He sat in a group of his friends at the clans communal lunch, absent-mindededly shoving bits of food in his mouth as his eyes darted around in search of you.

"Looking for your demon?" Tonu asked with a shove to Neteyams shoulder, he turned and hissed at his friend, "Do not call her that, she is not a demon!" He growled. But he was looking for you, the two of you had developed somewhat of a routine, he'd come to your hut every morning, his feet guiding him there even if he had duties to attend to, his desire for you raging above everything else. You'd meet him at the door with a breathtaking grin that made him fall over his feet as you held open the flap to your home and ushered him to sit as you showed what you had decided to make for breakfast that morning, but not this morning. When he showed up at your home the flap was closed and you were nowhere to be seen. He had called your name several times before poking his head in just a bit to see if maybe you had overslept, but no, you just weren't home. Worry had started to fester immediately, and instead of pacing in front of your home and waiting like he wanted to, Neteyam forced himself to the clans breakfast and decided fo wait for you. You'd pop up, right? But you didn't, and morning turned to afternoon.

His friends all sat around him chatting absent-mindededly, shooting him confused glances as he continued to ignore the conversation.

"Neteyam." He about jumped out of his skin at the sound of his fathers voice behind him. Turning around he tilted his head up to see Jake, hands on his hips and a scowl on his face. "Yes dad?" He asked, standing up quickly. "I need you to come with me." Was all his father said before turning on his heel and walking away. Neteyam's ears flickered in slight irritation as he scrambled up and followed after, tossing one last look around for you, still no luck.

Neteyam followed his father into the war planning tent and stopped short when he saw you. His heart stuttered in his chest the way it did whenever he laid eyes on you, but he furrowed his brows in concern this time. You had a scowl on your face, ears downturned and pressed flat, hugging the curve of your skull, and your arms were wrapped around yourself in a protective way, nails digging into the flesh on your sides.

"What's going on?" He asked, anxiety building in his chest as your golden eyes shot to him. "I have great news Neteyam." His attention was turned to his father, who was grinning. Neteyam almost felt the need to rub his eyes and give himself a pinch, he hasn't seen that look on his fathers face for a long time.

His confusion doubled as he looked between you and his father, but before he could ask a question Jake cut him off, " The humans are gone!" He boomed happily, clapping a hand on Neteyams shoulder and shaking lightly. "Gone? What? Then why?..." Neteyam trailed off, looking at you again, you pursed your lips and shook your head, darting your eyes from him to the floor. " They packed up and left, all bases have been abandoned, all facilities, trains, everything is shut down," his father turned to you then, placing his hands gently on your stiff shoulders, "this is real, Y/N, we can breathe again, you saw with your own eyes." Neteyams ears perked at that, you saw? His dad turned to him again, looking between them and smiled Wide. "Now go. Go enjoy this. No duties or chores for awhile, the news will spread." As soon as the final word was out you were rushing out of then tent, and Neteyam followed, he jogged after you and pulled you to a gentle stop, grimacing at how tight your muscles were under his fingertips. "What's the matter?" He murmured softly, trying to tug you into him to no avail as you remained stiff and rigid. You were silent for a few moments before looking up at him with frenzied eyes. " I don't belive they just up and left! And your father is ridiculous is he thinks they did!" Your voice was a low growl, "Neteyam please, think about it, we just attacked another supply train of theirs, they have never so much as ceased fire, why all of a sudden would they abandon ship?" Your voice shook with fear as you gripped his biceps, imploring him to listen to you, and his heart broke. Neteyam cursed the sky people, those demons, for doing this to his people. For doing this to you. To make you question such a good event and have you trembling as you gripped him in fear. "Hey, hey, calm down, it's okay." He gently peeled your fingers off of him and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you as tightly against him as he could.

"If we get complacent, they will destroy us." You murmured against his pec and peering up. He grimaced, your words sending a shrill of anxiety through him.

Neteyam held you in the middle of the village like that for awhile, rocking you back and forth in his arms as he whispered soothing things in your ear and nuzzled your hair. You eventually peeled away, much to his disappointment, and looked around. A blush that he took a great thrill in seeing spread over your cheeks as you must of realized you were both openly in public.

He kept his eyes trained on you, he was finding that, as usual, he couldn't bare the thought of looking away. His heart ached at the thought you might separate for the day, he barely had your attention at all today, he felt like an addict going through withdrawal.

" I made a new loaf this morning... iffff you maybe wanted to come try?" You looked down as you spoke, poking your toes in the soil and swaying your arms around you lightly. Neteyam couldn't stop the grin that flashed across his face, "Of course, sevin, lead the way." He chuckled at your timid little nod, sp different from the woman you presented to him weeks ago, he knew the nickname flustered you and he marveled in the fact.

Hours had passed to quickly in your hut. Neteyam had scarffed down more than half the sweet bread loaf you had made, flying high all the while with every giggle and smile you granted him with. You were standing at your makeshift kitchenette now, tidying things up as he sat and watched. His eyes were glued to your back, tracing down the length of your spine, imagining how soft the skin would feel under his hands, the little dimples at the dip of your back, right above your loincloth band making him pant with need. Restraining himself from pouncing on you was getting more and more difficult, he wanted to bend you every which way, hear you moan and scream his name as he drilled into you, clutch you to him as you writhed and whimpered.

You sighed heavily, breaking him out of his lewd thoughts as you said his name so softly his ears perked and strained to hear it. His tail twitched, he didn't say anything out loud by accident did he?

"I feel guilty. And selfish." You sighed, setting him at ease from his thoughts, but alarm quickly built again and he was quickly up and next to you. "Why flower?" He tucked some stray hairs behind your dropped ear, "I have to admit my worries about the sky people are not completely selfless." Your tail wrapped around your leg as you figited, avoiding his gaze. He ducked his head down a bit searching for your eyes, nudging your cheek with his nose gently. You took a deep breath and peered up through your lashes at him, his tail swayed eagerly at the doe eyed look.

" part of me doesn't want us to be caught of guard, because... well because I don't want anything or anyone to ruin, or prematurely push us apart." Neteyam felt like all the air got knocked out of him at your words. He had to reach behind you to grasp the makeshift counter to steady himself as his knees nearly buckled. His brain couldn't even function, adoration and want, greed, love, filled him, and he wasn't in control of what he did next.

"Eywa paskalìn." He groaned, hand going to grip the nape of your neck and tilt you towards him, effectively locking you into his arms as he brought his lips down to yours and pressed them in a bruising, heated kiss.

@jakesullyfatjuicypeen

#atwow #avatar 2 #avatar the way of water #avatar #avatar fluff #neteyam #neteyam sully #neteyam x reader #neteyam fanfiction #neteyam smut

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poppyseed1031 · 4 months

Text

Safe Haven

Series Part Listing Found Here

Neteyam x Original Na'vi Female Character

Warning: This story contains smut, violence & abuse (please don't read if these topics will affect you)

Some characters have been aged up. Neteyam in particular is 24.

Xilä is my own creation.

Part 18- Healing

The second they landed, Sal had flung herself at Xilä, sobbing inconsolably in a flurry of emotions ranging from devastation, elation and just pure relief.

Once Sal finally released her, Neteyam was lifting Xi into his arms and bypassing all the other waiting friends and family members- Tuk, Kiri, D’avi, Spider and so many others who’d crowded around.

“Later,” he snapped, “she needs to see Tsahìk,” was all he said before striding off for this grandmother’s tent

The medic they’d taken with them on their journey had done as much as they could for Xi, but Neteyam had watched his wife struggle on the trip back home, she needed proper treatment.

Mo’at embraced them both, murmuring prayers of thanks to Eywa under her breath. She was then giving orders to have a large tub basin brought in as she ushered Xi to a free bed.

Between his grandmother, Kiri and Sal, Xilä was carefully bathed and tended to and all wounds and injuries no matter how minor were treated.

After Xi inhaled a thick nutritional broth and a cup of medical tea, she swallowed the tonics Mo’at had instructed her to before falling into a deep and much needed sleep against Sal.

Neteyam had not left her side once. He hovered and kept a watchful eye as the woman worked seamlessly and efficiently to care for his mate.

A tension of relief he hadn’t realized was stifling him, released when his grandmother had asked if she’d been hurt intimately. Xi had given her a simple resounding NO to the question.

“You should go get cleaned up brother,” Kiri said, taking his empty soup bowl and the filthy cloak and pants he’d removed from himself.

D’avi, who’d come in a while ago was gently finger combing through Xi’s now clean loosened strands. She saw his hesitation and the way his stare lingered on his sleeping wife.

“Don’t be stubborn now. Go, she won’t wake anytime soon…we won’t leave her side until you’re back,” she assured.

It took everything within him to leave the tent. After additional coaxing and light scolding from the two elderly women, he eventually left.

Neteyam soaked the nearest hot spring, washing away the aches and tension from the very long couple of days he’d endured. And of course the entire time, the only thing that plagued his mind was the wellbeing of his mate.

A pang of panic flooded him when he returned to the healing tent and didn’t find Xi where he’d left her.

“Calm yourself, Teyam,” Mo’at soothed from where she’d been tending to a new patient.

“She’s just back there,” she said, jerking her head to a partitioned section of the large tent that led to Mo’at’s personal quarters- which she only ever used if she needed to be close to a patient.

Sal and D’avi were still with Xi when he entered the dim space. They gave him soft smiles and gentle arm pats on their way out, Sal stopping to press an appreciative kiss to his cheek and a whispered “thank you” as she passed.

Neteyam crawled in and laid beside his mate, greedily drinking in the sight of her sleeping features. Dirt and grime free, the cuts and bruises littered about her skin were a stark difference- harsh and prominent.

Guilt ate at him.

He traced the contours of Xi’s face- thumb barely making contact as it brushed over her skin in a feather light motion. Across her brow, curving along the soft of her cheek, down the bridge of her nose before tracing the lines of her jaw, chin, lips- landing finally on her pulse point to make sure he felt that subtle beat.

He snuggled closer, her feet meeting his chins as he plastered himself to her front while they laid on their sides- face so close to her own, their noses touched and heartbeats thumped against each other.

At last, and at peace for the first time in too many days, Neteyam slept.

In the first week that his wife returned, both Neteyam and Xilä stayed with Sal and Jxo. Not only because it was easier since Xilä’s room was still available, but Neteyam also thought it best for both her and her parents' comfort.

Within the very second day he began to notice Xi’s behavior. Somehow he knew it was coming, he’d been watching, waiting.

It was subtle little things at first. Actions and hints of an emotion or expression he hadn’t seen from her in a long, long time. Not always, but she’d flinch at the slightest touch or brush- even from him.

Sudden movements and loud noises had her panicky and unsettled.

Shaking hands she’d either clasp up tightly or sit on them altogether to hide, unaware he’d already clocked it.

Nightmares. Those she couldn’t hide even if she wanted to. Some nights she accepted his comfort when she woke up in hysterical tears, and others she’d downplay it all and say she was “fine”.

Fine. Oh how he fucking hated that word.

And so even though he’d expected these reactions from her, even though he’d mentally prepared himself for how to handle it, how to help her… what he hadn’t expected was for her to pretend she wasn’t affected… at all.

His mate, Xilä Sully acted like it was all nothing and everything was fucking normal- fucking fine. Like she hadn’t been kidnapped, like she hadn’t been beaten bloody and bruised, starved, chained and held prisoner because she’d been traded like she was meaningless cattle.

No. Xilä was all smiles and chatty as ever. Her parents had shared his concern at first when he pointed it out, but then they’d just chalked it up to it being that she'd grown and was better at handling traumatic events by now. They were just happy to see her, happy.

Bulllll-shit.

She could fool their friends and their family and everyone else who visited to show their concern or relief that she was back, but him? She could never fool him. He saw through the smiles and laughs that never quite met her eyes.

His wife was hurting, bottling everything up and stifling her pain.

And it killed him.

He tried. Not within that first week of course. But when they’d moved into a temporary little tent near her parents’, he tried talking to her. Tried getting her to open up. She refused… Because of course and once again, she was still fucking “fine.”

It ate at him. Plagued him. He thought maybe, just maybe she was waiting until it was only the two of them again in their own space and away from everyone else. But when she gave him nothing, he pushed, and pushed some more until she finally snapped and told him to give it a rest, to “leave it be.”

Neteyam grew tired and frustrated. He had her back and all to himself now and yet he’d never felt such distance from his wife. He was at his wits end and his own “pretending everything was fine” just for her, was beginning to crack.

They were venturing into the beginning of the third week since her return, and while he had backed off from his mission of getting her to open up, it certainly didn’t stop his hovering.

He hadn’t left her side for a second. Downright refused, even when she’d grumble about his over-clinginess. Duties temporarily handed off to Tasam who he trusted whole heartedly with, Neteyam became worse than clingy- he was his wife’s shadow.

Xilä had observed this early on, noting her husband’s desperation to stay close to her. The way his eyes would light up in panic if she had left his sight for even a second made her heart ache. And at night while they slept, he completely engulfed her, limbs entwined, with his face buried into her neck as if he were trying to seep into her skin.

In the past few weeks, she had barely lifted a finger. Her husband was worse than her mother she summed up. Sal and Neteyam seemed as if they were competing for who could hover and smother her with love and affection the most.

It wasn’t that she didn’t appreciate it, to be honest she basked in all the love- or most of it. Not the times when her mate would chastise her for trying to walk on her sprained ankle too soon, or the few times she’d forgotten to take her pain tonics only for Neteyam to launch into a sweet but long winded and overly dramatic lecture as if her not taking her medicine caused him actual pain.

But today was a new day, and Xi was keen on taking back her independence. She was ready to shake off the nightmares that crippled her at night and the flashbacks, and the fear and the looming, constant sense of dread and anxiety that she was so ready to be done and over with.

“Handsome, I’m going to D’avi’s today.”

Neteyam’s head flicked up from the tablet he’d been pouring over as he watched his mate shuffle out from their bed with the empty tray of breakfast he’d made for her.

“Okay, I’ll come too,” he replied, tossing aside his new device to quickly follow right after her, ducking ever so slightly since the top of his head brushed the ceiling. He took the tray from her hands before she could protest, with a light smack to her ass when he reminded her to take her medicine.

Xilä bit her lip as she watched him put away the dishes. “Um… oh, alright.” She couldn’t find it within herself to tell him she wanted to go on her own. She changed direction and pulled out the first medical flask. “Hey, don’t you have your duties to get to by now? I know you took some time off but-”

“Tasam’s got it handled,” he shrugged.

“Okaay… it’s just, you can’t stay cooped up inside with me forever. So, when are you going back out exactly?”

“When I’m ready,” he said flippantly as he moved to fastened on his arm bands and warrior belt. “There’s no need for me right now,” he partly fibbed.

Her brows narrowed at him while she drank the last bitter concoction before chasing it with water. “Lie.”

“Lie?” He faced her head on, taking in the dark circles under her eyes and scabbed-over cut on her cheek he knew would scar. “Yeah, alright you got me… but baby, don’t start something you’re just going to walk away from.”

“And what’s that supposed to mean?” she snapped, pausing her task of rubbing oil on the fading bruises around her neck and arms.

“It means exactly the same thing I’ve been trying to talk to you about for days, Xilä. I’m not the only liar here. You won’t tell me shit!”

“Oh this again?” She rolled her eyes. “Teyam, I keep telling you, I’m f-”

“Fine?” he finished sarcastically. “Yeah, so you’ve said a few times,” he snarked. “When are we going to stop with the pretending, Xilä?”

“I’m not doing this with you right now,” she snapped. “Are we going or not?” she asked quietly, not even glancing in his direction as she walked right out of the small tent.

“There you go, walking away from me again,” Neteyam muttered to himself with a rub to an eye before he followed after her. He was fucking exhausted.

He caught up to her within four long strides and reached out to link their fingers together. Xilä didn’t pull away, she never did- even after many recent spats, if anything she’d always hold on just as tightly, almost as if he’d disappear.

Halfway through their walk to her sister’s, Neteyam broke the silence.

“We should probably discuss our living arrangements… I know it’s only temporary but I hate where we are right now. I know you do too,” he joked lightly, recording it as a win when she broke out into a smile of her own, nose wrinkling just the way he liked it.

“It is awfully cramped,” she agreed, “and low hanging… I feel for your poor head every time you want to stand up straight,” she laughed. “When do you think we can move back into our home? I miss our own bed.”

Neteyam shot her a sideways glance, hiding his surprise. “You want to move back there?”

“Well, yes. It’s our home. Don’t you?”

When he didn’t immediately answer her, she stopped in her tracks and tugged his arm to halt him too. “Teyam?”

“I thought you wouldn’t want to go back there. I mean- well after what happened. It’s just bad memories, baby. Why don’t we start over somewhere new? There’s a vacancy near my parent’s place. One of the council members relocated their family and I heard the place is great. I can help Jxo do some repairs and remodeling if we need it. We can even get all new shit too, what do you think?”

“But…but it’s our home…we can make our own memories there, erase the bad,” she urged with a tilt of her head, not understanding his want for a new place.

He pulled her in with a warm palm behind her neck, the other spanning her ribs, thumbs gently brushing her skin. “Is that what you want?” he asked with a searching look.

Xilä frowned up at him in confusion. She didn’t understand why he’d even moved them into a temporary tent in the first place and now even more so his lack of enthusiasm to return to their home.

She parted her lips to respond but he continued speaking before she could. “Think about it first, okay, sweetheart? We’ll do whatever you’re comfortable with but,” he heaved a breath and hesitated as if he should say more, “just promise me you’ll really think about it.”

“Alright,” she nodded, still frowning up at him.

He simply ducked his head to kiss away her pout, then pulled her along with him again.

Their time at her sister’s was eventful. Babies always had a way of easing tension and making anyone feel better.

Xilä kissed and cuddled her niece and nephew for most of the morning, internally swooning whenever her husband interacted with them in any sort of capacity. He was so gentle with them and although the twins had grown from when last she’d seen them, they looked practically tiny in his arms.

“If you don’t give that man a baby soon, Xilä…” D’avi muttered to her quietly as she pretended to busy herself with chopping fruit. “I swear I’m surprised you’re not already pregnant just by the way he’s devouring you with his eyes. Great Mother, he looks like he’s about ready to pounce right here and now.”

“What are you-” Xi’s words died on her tongue when she caught sight of her mate’s heated gaze from across the room. Heated was maybe the wrong word, he was feral- hungry. She glanced away quickly to hide her blush and squeezed her thighs together to help soothe the ache of sudden arousal- an act that did not go unnoticed by Neteyam.

His stare was immovable as he and an oblivious Yalnïk spoke amongst themselves.

D’avi’s eyes bounced between the mated pair, amusement quirking at her lips. “Three weeks.”

“What?” Xi asked distractedly, attention falling to the woman beside her as she shuffled the baby boy around when he released a little fuss from her lack of attention.

“Okay fine maybe four just because I’m sure he’ll want to wait for your bruises to fade a little more before he sends you into a good old proper bliss. If he’s like this all because you’re holding a baby, Eywa only knows what he’s like all the time. Is he rough with you? I’ll bet he is. He looks like he can be downright dangerous in that dep-”

“D’avi!” she hissed, scandalized.

“What?” her sister laughed. “I’m just calling it as it is. That man is completely obsessed with you, Xilä and I’ll bet-”

“Shush!” Xilä shot her a “shut up now,” glare when her mate began to make his way over to them with L’eya in his arms.

“D’av, I think she needs a feeding,” he said, stooping to hand over the whining babe who was gnawing on her little fist. “I’ll take over for you.”

“You’re sweet,” she smiled, taking her baby girl and moving over so Neteyam could resume her prep work.

Xilä stared at his hands while he worked, teeth sinking into her bottom lip as she appreciated his fingers, they were long and thick, strong yet gentle…and they could do wondrous, wondrous things to her. She watched the way they moved, following the raised veins on the back of his hands before getting distracted by his forearms, and then his biceps and then-

A shrill cry escaped baby L’eo.

“Aw L’eooo, I’m sorry baby. I’m here, helllooo. Hi, hi.” Xi cooed and awed and smiled as she bounced the unhappy baby boy. “Are you hungry too? Hmm?”

“I’ll take him. They’re way overdue for a nap now,” Yalnïk said, reaching down to take his son gently, disappearing behind their privacy partition.

“Fruit, babe?” Neteyam asked, offering her a piece of melon tree fruit.

“Yes ple-mmm,” she squeaked, when he pressed the slice between her lips, thumb sinking in and brushing her tongue for a fraction of a second before it was quickly swiping at her bottom lip and down her chin.

She eyed him suspiciously when he leaned on a hand to loom over her.

“I’m going to put L’eya down for a nap!” D’avi announced louder than necessary as she too disappeared behind their private quarters, grin wide and giddy.

“Good?” Neteyam asked, doing a far better job than she was, of ignoring her sister’s over the top antics.

Xi nodded as she slowly chewed. “It’s sweet,” she whispered, licking her lips unconsciously.

Neteyam followed the movement, gaze hypnotized by her mouth. His free hand circled her thigh, fingers coming dangerously close to her already wet center. “Should I have a taste too?”

Her chest heaved, eyelashes fluttering and eyes glazing over. “Yes.”

His kiss was a peck at first, almost playful. And then they were both sinking into it. Her wrists locked behind his neck and their tongues and lips and teeth synced in a familiar but well missed dance.

“I want you…now,” he declared against her lips, grip tightening around her thigh.

Xilä’s hips jumped at the touch. “I- um, y- okay. Yes. Now. Now,” she rushed, pushing at his chest, but Neteyam was calm and collected as ever.

“Go say goodbye to your sister and her mate. Thirty seconds,” he all but ordered.

Flustered, she scrambled to her feet on shaky legs and poked her head through the curtain divider, only to be met with an already peeping D’avi- one breast exposed as L’eya hungrily suckled against her.

“D’avi!” she hissed. “By Eywa you are just like Sal.”

“Hey! I reject that. I am not as bad as our mother,” she protested, showing not even an ounce of shame at being caught.

Xilä bit the inside of her cheek to quiet her laughter. “I’m going now.”

“Yeah, no shit. Have fun getting dicked out by your- mmpff!” Yalnïk appeared behind her, palm covering his mate’s blabbering mouth.

“Thanks for coming by, Xi,” he said with an over polite grin mixed with an embarrassed grimace.

The second she stepped back into the main room, Neteyam was snatching her hand and dragging her out with a, “let’s go already!”

“Shh, the babies,” she chastised with a giggle.

They hadn’t had sex since her return. Neteyam had flat out refused the two times she’d initiated, citing she was still on healer ordered bed rest.

There was an unspoken urge now.

Desperate.

Maddening.

Xilä was eagerly climbing into bed and pulling at the ties of her top the second they entered their temporary, cramped space.

An “ooff” escaped her when Neteyam pushed her forward, brandishing a spank to her ass before he covered her with his body, attacking her neck with noisy smacks and nips.

She arched when he ground his hips into hers, fingers becoming frustrated by the knots of her clothes. Impatient, he was quickly tearing and ripping them apart until she was bare to him.

“God- oh Eywa. Baby-” He mouthed down the line of her spine, sucking at the base of her tail which emitted the most arousing sound from her throat.

“Now. Net-ngh. Please just- ah!”

He sank two fingers into her heat without warning, making them both moan in unison. “Fuuuucking hell, baby. You’re drenched and so tight, shit. On your knees, ass up,” he ordered.

Xi panted as he stretched her, hips greedily moving in time with his fingers. Her hands fisted in their sheets when he squeezed her tail.

There was nothing sweet or gentle about their lovemaking. It was all carnal and needy, wild and urging.

In one swift moment his fingers were replaced by something much much bigger. Curses flew from his lips and Xilä screamed at the sudden sensation. The stretch was painfully good.

His hips pulled back then snapped again, making them both groan. And then Neteyam was fucking her ruthlessly, thrusts brutal and sloppy. He used her hips as his anchor, palms only leaving her every now and again to purple her ass when he’d send another spank her way.

It was loud and crude and messy. Full of bites, wild snarls and profanity.

Molten heat thrummed in her belly and the air rushed out of her when he collapsed over her completely as they both reached near their peaks quickly.

“Fuck, fuck fu- oh God you’re so fucking tight Xilä!”

“Neteyaaam!” Her mouth lulled open as the fire erupted, Neteyam’s teeth sinking into her neck as he spilled inside her heat just as a powerful orgasm hit her.

They were both panting and covered in sweat by the end of it and Xilä’s poor knees buckled then gave up when his weight became too much.

One of his hands stretched out to entwine with hers while the other sneaked under to fondle her breast.

“I missed you,” he whispered, so quietly Xi thought she imagined it.

“I missed you,” she sighed.

They basked in the quiet until he grew hard once more- still fully sheathed inside of her. He fucked her again, but far softer this time, slowly and leisurely, drawing out her orgasm until she became putty in is hands, all babbling and pliant and so fucking sexy.

When she eventually escaped his clutches, she ventured into their tiny and almost nonexistent kitchenette, ridiculously dehydrated, desperate to quench her thirst.

“Xilä Sully, I swear if you’ve left our bed to brew that stupid Qla’ira root tea after everything that’s happened, I’m gonna fucking lose it.”

Xi choked on air and turned to stare at her husband’s sprawled position- one arm covering his eyes, legs splayed and dick hard once again as his tail sailed lazily.

“Uh- nope, just getting good old regular water, if that’s okay with you,” she sassed quite sarcastically.

He peeked out at her as if making sure, then shot her a smile that did all kinds of things to her.

“That’s fine with me,” he said cheekily. “Now hurry up. It’s almost time for your second course of meds and I’d very much like to make you scream my name one last time before I have to get your lunch prepared.”

Xilä choked on her water this time around.

The nights were always the worst for Xilä. She could put on a brave face during the day, but when her eyes closed at night, there was no hiding it.

Li’ona haunted her dreams with a vengeance.

Her father- T'shteyo.

Kayoanaska.

Su’ko.

The cave.

Blood.

Death.

Tonight she was trapped in a moving metal box. Blood coated Askadu’s gaunt and aged face. There were chains clinking with a chiming echo all around her. Vhin was clawing at her. Su’ko’s threats on Neteyam’s life played in a loop.

We’ll string him up right beside your father.

A knife.

A struggle.

Her screams.

Death!

Xilä flew up into a seated position with a heaving gasp- panting and shaking severely. Disorientated, she tried to catch her bearings.

Where was she?

Panic crippled her for far too many seconds long before her mind registered her location.

Not a ship.

Not Li’ona.

Not the cave.

She wiped at the sheen of sweat coating her skin, cheeks leaking tears she hadn’t realized she’d shed.

Head following the tail wrapped around her thigh, Xilä breathed a sigh of relief when she saw that Neteyam was still asleep. Guilt always bothered her whenever she’d waken him with one of her night terrors…he needed his rest.

It took her a minute to properly ground herself, and then she was carefully easing out from her mate’s hold and swinging out of bed to pull on the nearest top and skirt.

Exiting their tent, she shuddered when the nippy air hit her, but she didn’t mind since it cooled her heated skin. She breathed in deeply, trying her very best to practise the exercises Mo’at taught her.

She was here. She was safe. She was loved.

Her feet seemed to move on their own accord, following the carved out paths of the Omaticaya camp, blindly walking into the soft glowing night.

Or not as blindly as she thought…

Without paying attention, Xilä somehow found herself standing in front of her home. She hadn’t been here since that night.

She hesitated, then, finally finding the courage, she climbed the steps, entered and with shaking fingers she flicked on the tiny switch that illuminated the space in soft artificial light.

A harsh dose of reality hit her when she saw the interior.

Tears sprang in her eyes at the sight of the untouched scene.

Their home was…

Like a floodgate opening, a wounded cry escaped her lips… and the scenes played out before her like one of those human “movies”.

T'shteyo entering their home. His threats, his attack. Her retaliation. The things did- he’d beaten her, hurt her. Drugged, then took her from her home.

Xilä saw herself dragged by the hair, tackled to the ground, struggling as calloused hands closed around her throat- squeezing and squeezing.

Her breathing came out in heavy pants now and she stumbled forward, feet colliding with a pillow- the fort…Tuk…

What if the little girl had slept over that night like she wanted too?

Xilä’s chest tightened.

She slowly approached the pile of splinters that had once held her husband’s prized possessions, the weapons he’d collected and crafted over the years- plunge!

Lips trembling, the memory was clear before her eyes. She’d held the knife, she’d stabbed him. Unseeingly she followed the dot, dot, dot pattern of crimson droplets on the floor. It led her to their private room.

The muted fumes of dried pungent blood was strongest here. The room was sparse, most of their possessions were gone or ruined.

This was not the home she remembered. It was a nightmare.

Overwhelmed, she spun around the room, flashbacks attacking her mind- drowning her, suffocating. She couldn’t breathe.

“You’re lucky he’s not here tonight. I was planning on killing him before we left.”

Air!

Breathe Xilä!

Xilä stumbled out of their room the exact moment someone entered the tent. Eyes blurred by tears, she blinked rapidly to be sure she wasn’t hallucinating. At the threshold stood her husband- a very distressed and panic stricken Neteyam.

Her mate was panting as if he’d been sprinting. His shoulders slumped, a heavy gush of air releasing in utter relief at the sight of her.

Jaw tightening, nostrils flaring, he took a step back, only to approach her in two fast strides. “What is the matter with you? You can’t disappear on me like that, Xilä! What the hell were you thinking just leaving in the middle of the night without telling me anything!” he yelled.

He was angry, no… he was terrified- trembling in distress as furious unshed tears clouded his vision. But then he was instantly deflating when he took in the state she was in. “Baby… Xi, what-”

Xilä crumbled and he was there to catch her.

Sobs wracked her punishingly. She cried for herself, for her husband, for the pain she’d been holding in.

It was gut wrenching, but Neteyam held her the entire time, sinking them to the floor and rocking her in his lap.

“I’m s-sorry. I’m so sorry Te-”

“Shhhh, no, don’t do that,” he soothed, brushing her apologies away. “I’ve got you sweetheart, I've got you,” he cooed, palms caressing her, giving as much comfort as possible.

A few of his own tears escaped him, but he swallowed down his need to fall apart. She needed him.

When her sobs eventually quieted into sniffles and the occasional shudder, he pleaded with her, “Xi, I- please talk to me. I can’t stand you shutting me out. This pretending thing, it’s- I can’t watch you do it anymore. You’re killing me, baby.”

Her head drew backwards to better see him, and whimper escaped her, he looked so… so distraught.

“Is it- is it me, Xi?” He tensed, waiting for her answer. He had always blamed himself for it all- from the get go, but deep down, he feared that maybe she did too.

“What are you talking about?”

“I wasn’t here. I left you and I-” His speech was cut off by her fingertips.

“Don’t do that,” she said sternly, using his own words back at him. “It’s not you- never you,” she whispered fiercely, gentle fingers gripping at his nape.

He sighed, disappointed that she was still holding back. Taking a leap for the both of them, he circled her wrists as if it were his lifeline and geared himself up to speak.

“I haven’t told you this but, I didn’t deal with you being kidnapped very well… I was an emotional mess and a real jerk to the people who were just trying to help me get you back. It brought out a real ugly side of me, a side that didn’t care about the lives I was taking or the lengths I was willing to go to.”

He wiped away the lone tear that escaped her and mildly joked, “Don’t get me wrong, but I don’t regret most of the things that I probably should. It all just showed me that you matter way more to me than I can even comprehend… Xilä, I’ve never loved someone as much as I love you, which is fucking terrifying- like I need you to understand that every time I think I’ve found the limit for just how much you mean to me, I realized that I’m not even an ounce close.”

Xi blinked, digesting everything he’d said, unsure where to even start. “I- I didn’t know all of that. Are you doing better now?”

“Than before? Yeah, I got you back… but you’re still making me worry. I see you struggling, baby. You don’t need to keep it all in. I don’t want you to.” He tucked a braid behind her ear. “What happened to you out there, Xilä?”

She bit her lip, brows drawn together as she considered his words. Xi shrank inwards, unable to face him as she finally recanted her story.

Over the next half hour all she did was talk, and all he did was listen, gaze zeroed in on her lips to not miss out on anything. It was difficult to hear- all of it. At the mention of Su’ko’s intention and attempt to claim her, Neteyam made a soft, wounded noise as if he’d been physically punched in the gut.

By the end he had a million questions he wanted to ask, but the main nagging one tore from his lips before he could help himself- only it came out harsher than he intended.

“He touched you?”

Xi flinched at his tone, then nodded ever so reluctantly. “Not- not badly though- it wasn’t as bad as you’re probably thinking. It-” She stopped to think of how to better phrase it. “Su’ko he just…”

She was downplaying it.

He knew it and she knew it.

“Where.”

“What?”

“Where did he touch you?” He took her hand and squeezed gently. “Show me.”

So she showed him. Her fingers started at her hairline, trailing slowly to meet her cheek, neck, waist, ending at her ankle which was circled by an ugly looking chain-like imprint.

When she was done, Neteyam was kissing her palm and whispering words that didn’t quite reach her ears. His lips found her hairline, and then he was kissing and caressing every inch of her she’d just shown him.

It was intimate, soft and unexpected, but not sexual in the slightest. Soon he was pushing her backwards as he moved down her body, going over each spot with determined precision.

And although her tears had dried by now, a wave of emotion rocked her as he kissed her skin. It was as if he were washing away Su’ko’s touch- replacing them with his own.

Xilä reached for him the second he’d finished with her ankle, lips seeking out his to pour out her own form of attention, apology…gratitude.

“How do you feel?” he asked as they sat side by side now, both quietly observing the shambles of their home.

“Better. So much better,” she smiled. “Thank you… I don’t know what I ever did to deserve yo- don’t laugh,” she chastised, unable to help the giggle that slipped her. “I’ve done nothing but cause you trouble ever since I came to the forest and I’ll bet you wished you chose som-”

He shut her up by claiming her mouth again, a bit more aggressive this time, with a bite to her jaw and a pinch to her butt when he pulled away. “Don’t even finish that thought.”

“Bossy,” she grouched with little heat.

Xilä sighed when she spotted one of her most beloved trinkets from Tuk, smashed into pieces. “We can’t stay here, can we?”

“No… I don’t think I can do it,” he admitted. “We need a new start, Xi. This place will only haunt us.”

“Alright, you're not wrong.”

“Come on.” He helped her get to her feet and drew her into his arms. “We leave it all here tonight, okay? The bad memories included. The moment we leave here, we’re starting over. Only good things ahead. Agreed?”

She nodded. “Agreed.”

“Alright, I can’t stay a second longer. Let’s go, babe.”

On their way out she asked, “Can we at least keep the tapestry?”

“The one on the ground covered in blood? Yeah I don’t think so, Xi. No.”

She gave an exaggerated pout, playfully swatting him with her tail.

“I’ll get you a new one. Promise.”

In the few weeks that followed, Neteyam and Xilä poured all of their free time and energy into fixing up their new home.

They went with the evicted one his mother had told him about. It was large, very large and Xilä was hesitant at first because she didn’t know what they’d do with all that free space.

But as they viewed every empty room, one after the other flashes of a possible future hit her. She smiled as she imagined the rooms filled with toys and clutter and the sounds of running little feet and happy shrieks and giggles.

She had a feeling her husband was thinking the same thing since he pointed out a beam that would “be perfect to track the kids’ heights.”

One perk she was also loving was that they now had access to their own personal water stream. The tent lined the same perimeter as the Sully’s home- four tents down, to be specific, so it shared the same little river trail.

Neteyam didn’t return to his duties all at once at first. He was still very uncomfortable leaving Xi on her own. So whenever he and Jxo worked on repairs in their free time- the father-in-law teaching him a thing or two during the process, he used that time to slowly ease into their separation.

And since Xilä had returned to her lessons- three days a week instead of her usual five, she too was able to help out where she could- not that they let her do anything too strenuous.

Two days after they finally moved, they hosted a small housewarming with their closest friends and family- which turned out to be more people than they thought.

However, with all the free space it wasn’t cramped but allowed for everyone to be comfortable as they lounged and chatted, ate and indulged in a few fun games.

“Full house you got here, brother,” Lo’ak joked when he approached Neteyam, drinks in hand.

Neteyam snorted in response, accepting his drink with again quiet thanks. He glanced around at their main room.

Jake and Jxo always seemed to gravitate towards each other during any family event he’d noticed. The two men- joined by Stephan this time, sipped on their drinks as they chatted, which included lots of head nods and folded arms.

A rowdy game was being played in the center of the room by Yalnïk, his twin, Xilä, Kah’lee and most surprisingly, Neytiri and Sal who’d just joined. Neteyam wondered if it were his mate who’d gotten the two women to actually play as well.

D’avi and her sister-in-law seemed to be scheming, perhaps playing matchmaker as they teased a blushing Tasam and Kiri all whilst Spider shot pointed glares from his own card game with a few of Neteyam’s patrol buddies.

Kids were running and screaming about- Tuk having company her age as Yalnïk’s twin and his wife had brought along their brood of children.

Ze’lu was chasing after them, catching and tossing them up in their air as they shrieked with excitement. Meanwhile a less than covert Leati kept shooting the man fleeting hungry glances- looking every bit like she enjoyed what she was seeing.

“You seem happy,” Lo’ak said, pulling his attention away again.

“I am. Very.”

His brother nodded and an odd expression crossed his face.

“What is it?” Neteyam asked.

“I wanted you to know before I told anyone else… I spoke to mom and dad and I uh, I’m leaving in a couple days. Heading out to Awa'atlu.”

“Awa'atlu? But our trip’s not due for another couple months why would-” He paused. “Oh. Ohh. Tsireya…”

Lo’ak clenched his jaw. He didn’t think it was that obvious. “What? Are you going to tell me I’m wasting my time too?”

Neteyam’s brows shot up at the accusation. “Who the hell told you that?”

“Spider,” he spat with an eye roll. “What does he know?”

“Hmm,” Neteyam clicked his tongue and grinned. “Well I was actually going to say about damn time.”

“Has it been that obvious?”

“Pretty much, baby brother. What got you to finally go after all this time?”

“Uh, you actually. Well you and Xi,” he admitted sheepishly with a scratch to the back of his head.

“Oh?”

“You two are… well I want what you two have… I saw what you were like when she was gone. And when you got her back I- I dunno. I’ve never loved anyone that much. I want that kind of love. The kind that’s sweet but all intense. I tried to find it here but no one…it’s dumb and I know I was a stupid teenager back then but I’ve only ever felt a semblance of it with her… I thought I needed to know for sure before I could move on properly. Does that make any sense?”

“Of course it does. I’m proud of you for doing this, Lo’ak. And ignore Spider, I’m sure he’s only said that because he’s going to miss you.”

His brother grinned. “Thanks… Spider thinks she already mated up with a rowdy bunch of babies,” he said bitterly. “I know he means well and doesn’t want to see me hurt but…some stubborn part of me thinks she waited… for me.”

“Well. Make that two of us, brother.”

“Got any advice on how to win her parents over? From what I remember, Tonowari was an intimidating fucker.”

Neteyam laughed. “Oh yeah, that he was. But Jxo’s got him beat. Don’t worry, Yalnïk and I will give you some tips before you go.”

After chatting for another couple minutes, they were interrupted by Xilä who came over to wrap him up in a hug.

Neteyam pressed a chase kiss to her lips, grinning wide at the sight of her infectious smile. “Having fun, sweetheart?”

“Mhm, yep. You boys, your mother is incredibly competitive. She is cut-throat and no joke.”

The brothers cackled, spotting their mother who was now head to head with the only other final player- Yalnïk. Sal and the others were howling in delight at the pair. It was refreshing to see.

“Dammit, XiXi, will you keep your sister on a leash, she looks like she’s stirring up shit again,” Lo’ak complained with no real heat and a laugh. “Shit. I better get in there before a fight breaks out. He might be little, but he can cause some serious damage.”

Xi and Neteyam watched him leave, both releasing laughs of their own at the sight of him talking down an overly jealous looking Spider who seemed about ready to kill an unsuspecting Tasam.

“Uh-o. Kiri’s got her hands full now… D’avi!” she hissed loudly. “Stop!” she mouthed.

D’avi shot her an innocent look before going over to check on her little ones who were being happily doted on by her mother and Mo’at.

Xilä sighed and slumped into her chuckling husband. He squeezed her gently nosing at her sweet smelling hair.

“Want to go flying later?” he asked. “As much as I enjoy this chaos, I love when it’s just the two of us.”

She nodded in agreement against his chest. Peering up at him, a burst of happiness filled her. “I love you.”

He stared right back. “I love you too, baby.”

“Why is it so difficult to admit that you like him?” Xi asked her friend as she bounced a gurgling L’eya on her knees.

“Because I so clearly don’t!” Leati snapped.

Kay’hlee and Xilä exchanged knowing glances, both doing a poor job of hiding their amusement.

“If it’s any consolation, you’re all my brother talks about at home. He’s smitten with you… Hypothetically, if he did sum up the courage to ask, would you agree to court him?”

Leati’s mouth opened and closed comically, no sound coming out. “I- pfft. What? As if he would ask me to- he… he talks about me?”

“Constantly.”

The poor warrior flushed. Taking pity, Xi removed the attention from her.

“What about you Kah’lee? You and W’aote look pretty cozy lately,” she teased, bringing the baby up to plant kisses all over her chubby cheeks, making her squeal in delight, gummy and drooly grin all on display.

“W’aote is… wild. I never thought I’d be interested in someone like him, but,” she shrugged with a stupid, swoony expression Xi was all too familiar with, “he makes me laugh, all the time and although he’s insanely unromantic and sticks his foot in his mouth half the time, he can be a real softy… The sex is the added bonus- it’s absolutely mind-blowing.”

Xilä and Leati broke out into giggles, L’eya joining in as if she understood their conversation. The introverted and soft spoken Kah’lee surprised Xi more and more every time they hung out.

Xi made her way around the room, spending pockets of time with each of their guests. Midway a conversation between her, Neytiri and Sal, a pair of little arms hugged her from behind, small chin poking the top of her head as a body sagged against her.

“Hi, Tuk,” she greeted.

“Hi, Xi.” Tuk’s face hid in her shoulder with a tiny pout before she plonked herself next to Xi.

“What’s with the face?” Xi laughed, observing the way the little girl stared at the baby as if she were unsure how to feel.

Tuk loved L’eya- and Leo, but sometimes her jealousy got in the way. She was no longer the youngest, and more than once she’d express her unhappiness by vying for the attention of either her parents or siblings if they held either of the babies for too long.

Shaking her head in response, she cuddled into Xi’s side, defiant glare set on L’eya who blinked back at her with big gold eyes.

“Tuktirey,” Neytiri said in a very motherly warning tone.

In the end, Tuk grew bored of the adult conversation and chose to play in Xi’s hair instead.

“How have you been doing, Xi?” her mother-in-law asked.

“Good, really good. I’m sleeping better and finally off the tonics,” she said. “I’ve got my support team especially to thank,” she directed right at Sal. “And my husband of course. Your son is a very patient man,” she joked, gaining chuckles in response.

And it was all the truth. Xilä was doing better. She still had the occasional nightmare or two, but her weekly sessions with the Tsahìk helped plenty. She also vented quite a lot to her mother. Sal was a saint, and although Neteyam did a fantastic job, sometimes a girl just needed her mother.

“Time heals all wounds,” Moat would say.

Her bruises did fade, and her cuts healed nicely, only the one on her cheek left a very faint scar- a scar that her husband was forever kissing or simply brushing with his lips or knuckles.

As the two women continued to chat, Xilä’s gaze found her mate on the other side of the room. He was all grins as he and some of the guys partook in a boisterous game. He glimpsed her way, as if he’d been doing so constantly throughout the afternoon, double taking when he caught her already staring.

“You okay?” he mouthed.

She nodded with a wide beam.

He shot her a silly wink before turning back to his game, loud cheers and groans erupting with whatever play had just transpired.

Later that night, their parents were the last to leave. Hugging them all goodbye, she gave Jake his very own entire loaf of HoneyCornbread she’d purposely set aside for him- much to her father-in-law’s delight.

“Leave it, sweetheart,” Neteyam said, stopping her from starting the clean up when they were finally alone. “W’aote and Spider lost against me and Yalnïk. They’re on clean up duty, so they’ll come over in the morning first thing.”

A laugh escaped her. “Well, alright then. Do you want to go flying now?” she asked, releasing her hair from the ridiculous updo Tuk had put it in, unaware of her advancing mate. “Or um, something else?”

“Something else?” he asked, capturing her hips with his hands.

Her head tipped backwards, expression telling him everything he needed to know.

“Oh that something else…”

She squeaked when he lifted her by the thighs. “I mean we don’t have too, but..”

“What do you want then? Tongue or fingers, Xi?”

“Both. Always both.”

“There she is! She’s back!” Neteyam hooted, jostling her in his arms as he made a beeline for their private quarters. “My greedy little mate is back!”

Gasp! A post? In two weeks?! Who is this?

Happy New Year Lovelies!

Shout out and big thanks to my friend Tori, I couldn't have done it without her.

As always, please let me know what you think :)

Tags: @jakesullyfatjuicypeen @granddearduck @riatesullironalite @strawberri-blonde @earthling55 @innercreationflower @duckworthbean @gyuventure @btsiguess-kpop @blkmystery @neteswife @luvteyams @isnt-itstrange @erenjaegerwifee @faatxma @ivysully @bakugouswaif

If you'd like to be tagged or I forgot you by accident, please let me know.

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poppyseed1031 · 5 months

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𝐍𝐞𝐞𝐝 𝐘𝐨𝐮

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐉𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐨𝐥𝐝

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐂𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠,𝐈𝐧𝐟𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @myheartfollower, @laylasbunbunny, @destinyl, @deadgirl02, @neteyamyawne

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟏 | 𝐒𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐚𝐥 | 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

“Oh my! Neytiri.” You bowed, seeing the clan leader in your home. Her eyes were sad but she maintained her stotic and respectable posture. “Come back.” She said.

You tilted your head, playing dumb as to what she was referring to.

“Come back to Jake. He needs you.”

“Neytiri…I can't…i've defiled your marriage too-”

“Stop with the righteous act you've already fucked him!” She snapped. Her eyes softened, noticing your shocked face. “He can't sleep without you Y/n. He can't breathe, he can't…he can't… he can't lead the clan without you pulling the strings.”

Your stomach sunk, hearing how bad Jakes condition was. There was no way he loved you that much. Did he?

“I need to make peace with myself.” You turned your back on Neytiri.

“You're gonna make your peace at the expense of your lover's happiness?” Neytiri questioned. You turned around and began to speak but the na’vi hissed.

“Come back. Fix it.”

---

You walked into the main room of Jake and Neytiris home. The house was clean but loveless, you could feel the dread that lingered for weeks in this home.

Neytiri led you to the room, where a hammock hung separate from the other. A large figure laid in one of them, back facing the world and breaths silent and short.

“I'll leave you two.” Neytiri excused herself.

You slowly approached, not wanting to trigger any emotion bombs. “Jake get up.” You said once you stood over him. He said nothing, but laid still. He was indeed listening, but this wasn't enough to get him up and out.

“I said get up dammit!” You pulled the hammock aside and watched as he turned around, looking at you with agitated and sunken eyes. “Don't act like you don't want me here.”

“I don't.”

“Bullshit.”

Jake laid silent.

“Fine.” You pivoted on your heels but were quickly grabbed by Jake. He had sat up and pulled you into his lap, nuzzling his face into your neck. “I didn't mean it. I didn't. I'm sorry.”

You sighed and allowed his hands to embrace your waist and hold you tightly against him, scared of you walking out again.

“Why would you leave me?”

You sighed. “It was time for you to be a man. And in that world I am not apart of that.”

“I am no man without you!” He hissed.

“Don't say that.”

“I would renounce being Olo'eyktan for you. No clan. No wife. Just me and you.” He pressed a kiss to the back of your shoulder, soft and tender like he always did.

“Jake.” Your eyes began to water. “I told you this wasn't right. I told you that we needed to move on, but you just keep-” You let out a strangled cry, displaying your frustration to Jake. He always made these promises, knowing that he would never actually do so.

“I need you. Y/n. Now that I know how life is with you, I can't live one without you.”

You turned around and looked at him with watery eyes. Pathetic. He was pathetic, you were as well. His eyes were filled with hope, and you saw the glint of optimism that you would come back.

“We can continue to fuck up together. And eventually if you do fall out of love with me we can…make some sort of arrangement or plan. But for now let me enjoy you, allow me to be in your presence.”

You sighed deeply, slightly disappointed in yourself for folding so easily.

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poppyseed1031 · 5 months

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Sparkles

Ao’nung x Human!Female Reader

Summary: You work as maintenance at base 36, a testing facility used for unethical experiments on captured local Na’vi. One day when the base’s power supply melts down and explodes, you’re caught in the flaming crossfire. In a split second decision, you also decide to free the panicking Na’vi in his glass cell.

Aged up!Ao’nung to 21 and reader is 20

Chapter Index

Chapter 1: think fast

Chapter 2: the giant blue alien in the room

Chapter 3: untitled

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poppyseed1031 · 5 months

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Safe Haven

Series Part Listing Found Here

Neteyam x Original Na'vi Female Character

Warning: This story contains smut, violence & abuse (please don't read if these topics will affect you)

Some characters have been aged up. Neteyam in particular is 24.

Xilä is my own creation.

Warning! Gentle reminder about my previous warnings y’all. This part is heavy handed on the violence and mentions of blood. Also, very brief mention/implication of suicide (not any of our MC’s).

Part 17- Vengeance

The feast was almost over and Xi was running out of time. She had run through every possible scenario in her mind on how to get out of what was to come…what Su’ko had planned for her.

Eywa.

Help me.

She stared out at a sea of pity, losing count of how many Na’vi were scattered about the cave. Li’ona had always been a massive clan, and while they were far fewer in numbers now, there was still a shocking mass.

Whatever RDA base or ship the Li’ona people had scavenged was evident. There was a plethora of human made objects dispersed all over the large cave. Everything from rusting ship parts, to vehicle seats- their padding spilling out from its torn upholstery to even those tiny, bright coloured sticks the humans used to clean their teeth.

In her peripheral, the glint of Su’ko’s staff caught her attention. It had a sharp pointed blade which she was sure could pierce skin easily…if she could just reach it.

‘Don’t be stupid,’ her mind mocked, ‘you wouldn’t make it very far…even if you killed him.’

A frantic shout for help interrupted her thoughts. The distressed form of a man appeared, hysterically yelling about his dying father and Xi recognized him from his cloak.

He had been one of the men who’d accompanied Su’ko- one of his rouge warrior's who’d held her down as they forced her to watch her father be strung up.

Xilä observed that most of the clan merely blinked in his direction, almost as if it were a usual occurrence.

Was no one going to help his father?

Did they have no healer?

When no one came forth, she grabbed her chance. “I can help! Let me help, I am a healer!”

Well...as good as one.

All eyes landed on her, and Xilä held her breath as she waited for Su’ko give his permission. Instead, he fisted her hair painfully, titling her to face his menacing glare.

“Shut the fuck up.”

“I-” she licked her lips nervously, “but I can help.”

“Su’ko…chief, please,” the man begged.

Su’ko’s gaze darted around at his clan, they were all watching in interest now, waiting for his response. Relenting, the Li’ona leader released her with an annoyed nudge.

“Go,” he ordered, tossing the end of the chain for the man to lead her away.

Deep into the cave and far from the rest of the clan, she followed when he entered an alcove. It was warm and reeked of stale sweat and urine. The rattling of the rusty chain around her ankle pierced the quiet of the dim space and Xi wondered for a split second if she’d been led into a trap.

Peering through the darkness, it took her a moment to make out a shifting lump on the ground. Said lump made her jump when it suddenly gave a loud, wheezing cough.

Rough hands dragged and pushed Xi to her knees, barking, “Do something! He’s dying!”

Xilä shot the man a foul glare over her shoulder. “My hands are still bound! I cannot work like this.”

He hesitated, but then the sound of another cough made him quickly cut the ties off her wrists.

As she rubbed the raw skin uncomfortably, she said, “I need light, water, and medicine if you have. There was supposed to be some in the sack that-”

“I’ll get it,” he snapped before dashing off, pulling the length of the long chain with him which rattled rather loudly before it tapered off, making her hastily extend her leg so she didn’t go lurching behind wherever it disappeared to.

Once the chain stopped, she shifted onto her knees and waited until another round of hacking from the ill figure ended. “Hello,” she tried.

“H’mdell, leave me.” The voice was harsh, hoarse and drenched in age.

“He- he’s gone to get a few things…I’m Xilä, I’m here to help. Do you mind- can I check your vitals? I’m a healer,” she whispered as calmly as possible.

“Xilä…I don’t know any Xi- wait…Muiä’s girl? Is that you?”

At his question she shuffled closer, wincing at the twinge in her ankle. “Yes,” she replied shakily. “Will you tell me what’s wrong?”

“Bah. I am fine. Only dying a slow and painful death. Why are you-” he broke off into another fit.

Xi pursed her lips when the elder’s breath quickened. Her brow furrowed when she took note of sweat glossing his heavily aged face yet he was swamped with what looked like three layers of worn leathers.

She reached out and pressed two fingers against the flat of his wrist, sharply inhaling when she felt his ice cold skin and faint beating pulse.

“When was the last time you ate or drank anything?”

H’mdell entered just then, bathing the room in warm light with a flame he secured into the rocky wall. He grunted a garble of words as he tossed a hefty medium sized sack at her. It was a mess of random herbs, tonics and instruments her father had stolen from the Omaticaya.

With the light, Xi swallowed her horror at the clear sight of the face staring back at her. The elder was gaunt, skeletal-like to be exact.

“He needs food, and clean, drinkable water. When was the last time he had anything?” she asked his son as she siphoned through the cloth bag, hoping it held what she needed.

“Not for days, he refuses- the stubborn fool,” the man replied with a pointed glare at his coughing father. “Do something already!” he bellowed at her, causing her to flinch and drop the container of powdered kyntser she’d been holding when he raised a threatening hand.

“H’mdell,” the elder rasped, “leave us. Su’ko will not be happy if you are late for your watch again. You know what happened the last time,” he said with a weak nod to the man’s left hand.

Xilä bit her cheek when she saw two missing fingers- only a thumb and index finger was left.

H’mdell simply grunted in response. Taking hold of the end of her shackle, he wedged it tight around an odd heavy scrap of metal that looked to be part of a machine. “Fix him. I’ll kill you if you don’t,” he threatened before finally leaving for his watch duty.

Waiting a few breaths, Xilä moved slowly as she tended to the elder who she learned was called Askadu.

Contrary to growing up in the deadlands, Xi had never really been given the freedom to roam the clan. Being overly sheltered, it was her first time actually seeing most of the unnamed faces.

The quiet and distance from the rest of the clan- distance from Su’ko specifically, gave her time to think, to plan.

Askadu stared at her the entire time, calculating gaze never leaving her face as she poked and prodded his ribs and stomach, ear pressing against his bony chest before she began to meticulously combine ingredients into a mortar and pestle.

“Why have you returned?” he eventually asked, surprising her.

“I have not returned,” she snapped, “I was taken from my home…against my will.”

“And just where is this home of yours?” he snarked. “Save the bruises, you look well kept. Sunkissed skin if I ever did see…no longer flesh and bone like the lot of us,” he commented, appraising her choice of clothing- or lack of, through cloudy gray eyes.

“The Omaticaya took me in. They are home.”

“The Omaticaya? Have you come from the Blue Flute clan then? The legendary Toruk Makto’s?”

“Yes,” she replied, pausing her stirring to frown at his genuine surprise and need of this information.

“That is not what Su’ko told us,” he muttered to himself faintly, but she heard it all the same.

Interesting.

They both fell quiet again, lost in their own thoughts as she continued to fret over him, giving him a slew of ill tasting remedies, then cleansing and treating his open bed sores as best as possible.

“What is it like?” he asked. “The forest.”

She pondered for a second before responding, smiling in memory. “It’s beautiful, something from a dream…The forest, it’s always alive, it glows, thrives and there’s forever something new to discover. I've lived there for some time now, but... I don’t think I’d ever get used to how wonderful it is”

“Hm.”

“Askadu,” she started, encouraged by his question to ask her own, “what happened to these lands? Why has Eywa forsaken Li’ona? You must know for sure. I heard it was once a place that all other clans would envy.”

The elder gave a dry laugh that ended in a fit of hacks and heaves. “Oh it was. It was,” he said as if remembering. “One could only assume my dear. I’m sure you’ve heard the theories. I’d gander it was greed and hate that brought us here, however.”

“How so?”

“Corruption,” he said ominously. “We once had all we could ever want…but then a drought came, far worse than any we’d ever encountered before. Instead of planning and conserving, we wasted…hoarded, took it all for granted by being selfish and unkind to our own. And when the lands became sparse, the evil awoke.”

“Evil?”

He fixed Xilä with a meaningful glare. “Hunger and thirst can turn any soul into an unrecognizable beast… beasts so wicked they no longer care, they no longer feel… they no longer exist… We can guess all we’d like, play the victims to make ourselves feel better, but it is no great secret why the Great Mother truly deserted us…We were our own undoing.”

Askadu breathed heavily and Xi wondered when was the last time he spoke this much, she offered him another sip of the slosh his son had brought.

It took everything within her to not rush this, to not make it obvious what she was doing, but she needed to gain his trust, and fast.

“Tell me child, has Eywa led you here to be part of our end? I can sense that our time here has run its course. You are here to join us then?”

A shudder ran up her spine at his chilling words. She shook her head slowly, grip loose on the cloth she’d been dabbing to his skin. “Eywa has nothing to do with me being here. I was taken against my will, remember? My father,” she sucked a breath, “he made a deal with your leader. And now Su’ko says he will claim me.”

“Ahhh, does he? And does he know you are already taken by an Omaticaya bastard?” he pondered in amusement, weak fingers lifting to flick at the chord of beads in her hair she’d been fidgeting with every now and again- Neteyam’s gifted beads precisely.

“Hmmm. You are tainted, but I suppose he wouldn’t care though, no? Gone were the days when one whore was enough for a man. Loyalty holds no meaning here anymore.”

Ignoring his vile words, Xilä couldn’t wait any longer. She was ready to strike, ready to put her plans in place.

With a glance behind her to make sure they were truly alone, she softened her voice, “You clearly don’t agree with the way he is doing things then. Help me, Askadu. Please.”

Askadu laughed. “Afraid you will end up like the rest then?”

“What do you mean? There were others? What happened to them?”

"They are dead," he replied nonchalantly, "Su'ko can be a...brutal lover."

Xi swallowed a wave of nausea. "Then help me."

Askadu turned angry. "I am afraid there is nothing I can do- and do not be fooled girl, I am no better than the animals out there. I will not fight for you- couldn’t even if I tried. I have already accepted my fate.. Maybe it's time you do too.”

“No. No I refuse to give up. And I don't need you to fight for me, no that's not what I'm asking. It's something else…please. Don't you want the last thing you do in this world to be something good? Help me, Askadu."

A stifling silence gave way for the grunts and hoots echoing through the walls of the cave.

“Tell me something, your mate, he is… what? A warrior?”

Xi frowned but answered all the same. “Yes. One of the greatest. He is the clan’s future Olo'eyktan,” she said proudly.

Askadu froze in shock before schooling his features. “Kin of Turok Makto… My my, see how you’ve risen,” he mocked. “He will be coming for you then? I can’t imagine having you taken away from your mate sits well with him- with the clan. How sure are you of this?”

Thumb and forefinger pressing into her beads for good measure, she nodded. “I’m sure. He’s coming, my husband is coming.” She knew it in her heart, there was no doubt.

“Very well. If I were to...help you," he bit out as if he'd eaten something vile, "I want something in return.”

Xilä’s relief was prominent. “Yes, of course. What would you like?”

He nudged his head to the medical sack. “Give me something strong to take, something that will do the trick quickly.”

Not understanding, Xi merely blinked at the bag.

Askadu rolled his eyes. “Your mate is coming for you, Xilä. Do you think he will simply walk in alone and take you without a fight? When the time comes, I will die on my own terms. So I’ll say it again. Give. Me. Something. Strong.”

A deep moan escaped Neteyam. “Fucking hell,” he murmured against Xi’s lips.

She giggled at his reaction, grin wide and proud. “Was that good?” she asked. “Yeeeah that was good,” she teased with a smirk, seeing his heated gaze, “I’m getting better at this kissing thing, I think.”

“Now who’s getting cocky?” he laughed in response, ducking down to suck her bottom lip into his mouth.

Her thighs squeezed his sides in response when he properly claimed her lips again, unable to help himself as his palms caressed as much free skin as they could without crossing that very thin line of inappropriateness.

Xilä, the greedy little thing, whined when he teased her in return by keeping his lips purposely closed. She bit his bottom lip in impatience, allowing for their tongues to dance passionately.

But then he was taking charge from her once more.

Neteyam tasted.

Inhaled.

Devoured.

She gave and he took.

They kissed until they were both bursting and lightheaded. Breaking apart, his lips trailed across her jawline and down the arch of her neck, desperate to stay close- addicted.

Since they’d recently started this dangerous game, it was getting increasingly difficult to stop each time.

He sucked at her pulse point, a spot he’d quickly come to realize was overly sensitive and prone to produce the most intoxicating sounds from her lips if he worked it just right.

Encouraged by her wanton moan, he did it again, and again, and again, practically feasting on her sweet smelling skin- tail happily thumping behind him while she gasped and panted as she clung to him.

Neteyam felt drunk off of her returning affections. He loved when her hips would begin to roll on their own, as if seeking more but not knowing what. He loved how her fingers would grip the skin of his back, his nape, his biceps, egging him on with breathy whines and mewls.

Only kissing.

That was the rule he’d set when they’d started this…and of course, he fucking hated it. He knew she did too. He knew that even though she was inexperienced, she was ever eager and always begging for more.

They were both fools though. The only kissing rule was beginning to blur. Hands began to roam further each time, bare skin was tasted and Neteyam, was always painfully rock hard by the end. Hiding it from her was becoming a task of its own nature.

The snap of a twig broke him from his spell, making him dart his head up and around at the forest surrounding them.

“What is it?” she asked, trying to see over his shoulder from their splayed position he'd rolled them to, but unable to since his heavy torso prevented her.

Neteyam listened for a few beats then jerked his chin. “Just a hexapede, over there, see?”

“Oh,” she gasped, “Teyam, it’s the same one we saw a few weeks ago. Look! She had her baby!”

Xi pushed at his chest so she could sit up to better see the knobby legged baby following its mother.

He grumbled, but shuffled out from his spot between her thighs to lean against a thick root of the tree they were lounging under. While she stared in awe at the two creatures, Neteyam took his fill of her. He wished he had a camera to save this moment forever.

She was beautiful, ethereal.

Skin glowing from the illumination around them, she was all soft lines, bright eyes and everything that was good in his entire world.

A sudden rush of overflowing affection that he’d never felt before made his heart leap.

Love…?

Love.

He waited for that thump-thump beat of panic over his realization…but it never came.

And then just as fast as that warmth of feeling showed itself, it was suddenly dampened by reality.

“What?” she asked with a little huff, amused when she’d caught him staring.

‘I love you,’ he thought. ‘But I’m not supposed to…’

“Nothing,” he said instead of the truth, “come here, sweetheart,” he begged quietly and albeit needy- a side of himself he’d never known existed.

‘Damn her.’

Pulling her into his arms with a contented sigh, he nuzzled her cheek and kissed under her jaw affectionately, feather light with hidden meaning, far more intimate than their usual “heated or passion” filled kisses.

This wasn’t supposed to happen. He wasn’t supposed to fall in love with her.

For now he’d take what he could get, he’d pretend that there was no deadline- no pressing demand waiting for him to deal with. But fuck if it didn’t hurt to think that he’d have to give her up.

But what if he couldn’t? What if he didn’t want to give her up? He was in love with her…soul wrenchingly in love.

‘Damn her.’

“Don’t make me do any more drills today,” she pouted as she snuggled further into his arms, thighs draped over each of his from when she’d plopped into his lap.

“No?” he chuckled, playing with her hair. “What do you want me to make you do instead then?”

“This, just this right here,” she sighed happily, hugging him around his waist as her cheek made a home on his chest. “Please.”

Another thing that made him secretly happy- she was much more comfortable with initiating physical contact now.

Recently, and on more than one occasion, she’d forgotten they were in public, and while he’d pretend to be upset and mumble under his breath to remind her, he loved when she’d light up at seeing him, loved how she’d plaster herself in his arms or seek him out- just to be close, just to be near him in any way possible.

“Alright, fine. Whatever you want, sweetheart,” he smiled, pressing a kiss to her hair while his arms tightened around her in return, “whatever you want.”

Neteyam tried to force himself to reign in his desires but thoughts of “What if” ran wild in his mind.

Maybe he could try to persuade the council to give him more time?

Maybe Xi would say yes if he asked to court her?

Maybe…somehow, someway she’d become his mate, his wife?

Neteyam shook his head, he didn’t want to get ahead of himself, he’d have to figure it all out later.

But for now, out here in their own world... he could pretend that she belonged to him just as much as he belonged to her…

“Son, you should get some sleep. You’re gonna need it,” Jake advised, chasing away Neteyam’s vivid memory.

He pursed his lips beneath the thick leathered mask that hid his face as he heard his father approach. “Dad-”

“Don’t give me that. It’s been days, kid. You haven’t been eating either and it’s got your mother worried sick. You’ll be of no use to Xi if you’re sleep deprived and weak as shit. We’re gearing up to infiltrate these savages tomorrow with no clue what to expect. I suggest you get your ass to camp, eat and get some fucking sleep, because so help me, Neteyam, I will pull rank and not allow out there.”

“Yes, sir,” Neteyam muttered dutifully, reigning in his annoyance yet knowing his father was right all the same.

He tore his gaze away from the vast, crimson tinted horizon he’d been staring at for the last hour and trekked down the stony mound, back to their camp of warriors- tail limp between his legs like a chided kit.

Casted by the shadows of the night, their makeshift shelters were hidden amongst a rocky valley. They were close, and having come such a long way, they’d stop to rest and recover for the night.

By tomorrow, they would finally enter the deadlands. Norm’s trace on the aircraft had died two days ago. He prayed to Eywa that it wasn't a bad sign, but suffice to say, they had a general idea of where they were heading by now.

So much happened in the past couple of days.

They didn’t leave home immediately after their update from Stephan. Strategy meetings were held, weapons and provisions for the journey were assembled, and every seamstress, weaver and capable sewer worked tirelessly to equip all warriors who were about to set out.

And thank Eywa that they had.

The heat had been a surprise to them all of course. They hadn’t even reached the “deadlands” officially per say, but yet a simmering wave had them all scrambling to cloak and cover themselves in protective wear.

Neteyam stared at his own covered feet as he walked. They were a nuisance in his mind, but they were a necessity. Who was he to complain?

His boots were sturdy and well insulated. Sal had made them, having stayed up for almost half a night before she tackled getting Jxo’s done.

And Jxo- well, warrior or not, there was no talking the man out from going with them. Neteyam had never seen his mother-in-law look so fragile when she’d learned this. Sal had hugged him tight and begged him to bring her husband and daughter back in one piece.

Their fleet flew for what felt like an eternity to him- days of travel that had his muscles sore, tired and aching. He glanced at the mess of tangled ikrans some feet away. Buddy and Journey in particular were entwined as they slept, and if it were not for their contrasting colours, Neteyam wouldn’t know where one began and the other ended.

Journey, the poor thing seemed to sense what was wrong. She was a stubborn beast, refusing to stay behind, nipping at his feet and tail until he surrendered and released her from the enclosure he’d been trying to lock her in.

As he forced himself to swallow a couple bites of food and swigs of water, Neteyam peered around at the tired eyes of the men and women so ready to fight by his side.

They were here for him, for Xilä. He had to say something…he needed them to know how much it meant to him.

With a heavy heart Neteyam made his way to the center of their makeshift encampment. He didn’t have to do much or wait too long for all to fall quiet and give their full attention.

“I can not help but feel such gratitude in my heart for each one of you. It's not lost on me, the sacrifices you've all made– leaving behind your families, your comfort and the warmth of your own bed. And for that sacrifice, I want to express my deepest thanks. Your willingness to endure this journey with me, it speaks volumes… My Xilä, my mate. Thank you for helping me get her back home.”

“You’d do it for any one of us,” Tasam called out with a firm nod, arms folded as he stood tall.

“Xilä is Omaticaya. Of course we’d fight to get her back,” W’aote chimed in.

“She is our future Tsahìk!”

“We are with you brother.”

One by one masked faces called out to him. His heart swelled, wishing Xi were here to see. Neytiri approached him where he stood, clasping their hands together as she murmured her own heartwarming words.

Later that night, while most caught some sleep, Neteyam sought out his brother who was one of the few keeping watch.

“Hey,” Lo’ak murmured in greeting, scooching across to allow Neteyam a seat on the high, flat boulder he was perched on.

“Hey.”

“What’s up?”

Neteyam plucked out his lucky dagger to fiddle with. He smirked at its still flower patterned painted handle, he couldn't find it within himself to remove Tuk's artwork.

"I need a favor…a big one," he asked as he twirled the blade skillfully, making flips and spins with practiced ease.

“Yeah, bro. Anything.”

“Dad’s right, we planned as much as we could, but we don’t really know what we're heading into… either way, I know it’s going to be a fight, I don’t expect there’d be no blood shed…” he adjusted the heavy cloak that kept him protected from the heat- it was ridiculously uncomfortable, that and the fucking pants.

“I’ve made up my mind on how I want this to go down. We’re sticking to the plans in place of course but… I need you to prioritize Xi for me.”

Lo’ak frowned. “Bro-”

“I want you to find her as soon as you can and get her out of there. Keep her safe. If Stephan’s ship is secure when we get there tomorrow, take her there.”

“Neteyam, the plan was that you would-”

“Please, Lo’ak… I need you to do this for me. Just get her as far from that place as possible. No matter what. I need you to promise me.”

Lo’ak swallowed deeply, glowing eyes set on his brother’s hidden profile. “Yeah. Yeah, okay, I’ll do it.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re planning something, aren’t you?”

Neteyam bit the inside of his cheek and shrugged. “They fucked up. So now they're all going to pay.”

A miserable three days had passed before it finally happened.

And oh how it happened.

Between Xilä and Askadu, the whispers were spread throughout the clan- the truth, things they didn’t know, things that had been deliberately kept from them.

It started with a sly comment that earned her a backhand from the person who’d brought her a “meal”, someone’s leftovers consisting of rock-seed beans that had been mashed into a paste.

An underhanded comment to Askadu’s son, a sassy comeback to Vhin who had pulled on her hair hard in retaliation, and the best of best- a tear filled conversion to the cave’s known gossiper, a woman named J'ahki.

Those small seeds of doubt were planted and spread throughout the clan, creating hushed huddles and intense pockets of conversation- tension and anger building amongst the Li’ona people.

They doubted her words at first, which was naturally understandable. But the Na’vi of Li’ona were a demanding folk. They had a code- and sure they treated each other worse than shit, but they believed in their chief- the man who’d fed them lies.

Xi’s plan was simple- create chaos and wait them out. If she couldn’t fight them physically, she’d get them where she knew mattered.

Get them to turn on themselves, or better yet- Su’ko.

She didn’t know exactly how long the journey had been by the aircraft- she’d been unconscious for most of it anyway. She also didn’t know the exact number of days she’d been taken from home- from Neteyam, but she knew how long she’d been in this dreadful cave.

Three days, and now judging by the change of the guard she’d come to memorize, evening had come…evening bringing the third night.

Three days and three nights of miserable, piss poor living conditions and lack of food, water and sleep.

It was the nights that had her worried the most. Xi had refused to close her eyes in fear of anything happening to her while she slept.

Askadu had played his part too in helping her however- not just spreading rumors also. Overplaying his illness when needed so that she could stay at his side during the day was more than she could ask for. She could tell that it irked Su’ko.

The first night she’d been lucky, having the opportunity to care for the elderly man. The second night however, Su’ko had every intention of moving ahead with his plan.

And so, she’d been dragged through the clan kicking and screaming, putting up a hell of a fight until they reached his personal alcove. She scratched the fuck out of his face, kneeing him right in the balls when he'd gotten her pinned.

His roar of pain and anger was deafening when she gained the upper hand by biting down on his ear, holding firm. Xi was feral, she clamped onto the flesh until blood coated her mouth and tip was ripped right off.

When Su'ko had stumbled back, hands cupping his gushing injury, his eyes were wide in disbelief? Shock? Fear? Xi didn't care, she simply stood to her full hight, spat the tip of his ear and a mouthful of blood right at him, stance widening as she readied herself for another round.

Su'ko had gone livid, blade pulled from his hip with every intention to kill her she knew.

But as luck or fate or Eywa would have it, a land quake erupted, rocking and shaking the entire cave with a powerful vengeance. Dust clouded the air and rubble fell from the ceiling as people scrambled in screams of terror.

Xi had been abandoned, still chained and unable to escape even if she wanted to. Instead, she curled into a ball beneath the scrapped sheet of metal she’d been shackled to.

On that night, three of Li’ona’s people died.

When all went calm again, Su’ko had his ear tended to by an overly worried and all too happy to help Vhin. Then, he and many others worked tirelessly at the cave’s entrance, desperately trying to clear away the rocks and rubble that had filled their only way out- trapping them from the outside.

And then came tonight.

The night it all went spiraling.

“SU’KO!”

From what she now called, “her seat” a ledge a few feet above the rest of the clan, but lower than Su’ko’s, a shackled Xilä watched as an angry Na’vi hostilely approached the Li’ona leader who’d just entered the cave.

Xi prayed that her plan had finally worked. She didn’t think she’d be as lucky again tonight since just before he left, Su’ko had threatened to claim her upon his return, then kill her for her actions.

“You’ve been keeping secrets from us, oh mighty leader,” the man snarked sarcastically.

Su’ko and his band of warriors had just returned from their all day hunt, which unsurprisingly, by the look of things, wielded only two measly skinny dirt-vermin.

“I’d watch my tone if I were you, Balynn. What is this about?” Su’ko asked, already on the alert as he noticed the accusatory glares scattered around the cave, some not as obvious while others were blazing in blatancy towards him.

“The girl, Su’ko…Talk is,” he turned and shot her a loathsome glare with a pointed finger, “she’s an Omatikaya’s whore. She’s fucking claimed by Toruk Makto’s boy.”

“Lies!” Su’ko roared, baring fanged teeth as he dropped his kill to step forward.

“She told me so herself,” Vhin chipped in unhelpfully- hip cocked and arms folded, “what does it matter though, Balynn? Su’ko makes the ru-”

“Silence bitch. It matters. All of you. Fools!” he hissed at the leader in particular. “Don’t you know what this means? She is Omatikaya! Taken… claimed before Eywa. They see her as one of their own.”

By the look on their leader’s face, realization seemed to dawn upon him, he caught what the man was trying to say. Su'ko fiddled with the bandage that was poorly administered to his ear, face morphing into a pained wince before he was masking it again.

Xi thought he was one tough bastard. He hadn't even taken anything for the pain.

“We should just kill her!” someone called out.

“String her up!” another yelled.

“No!” Balynn bellowed. “If you kill her, they’ll kill us all. They have a fucking army! I should know! I fought with them against the wicked ones years ago! They have weapons, demon made weapons! Faster, and far more deadly than an arrow.”

An echoing dread of silence rippled through the cave.

“Give her back,” Balynn seethed, “you have to.”

Su’ko’s jaw ticked- anger clouding his face. “I don’t like the way you’re questioning my authority, old man. You know what happens when I’m dishonored. Maybe I should string you up instead.”

“You fool. String me up all you like. But just know, it is you who will be the end of us all! They won’t let you keep her- they won’t let you keep your life!”

“Then a war will be upon them… we will fight! We will not let them enter our lands!”

A deafening roar of cheers and hoots ensued at the prospect of war, causing Xilä to swallow nervously. She didn’t want anyone from her clan getting hurt over her- especially Neteyam.

“They don’t need to know she’s here, though. They would leave if they see that. Just kill her, she is a waste anyway,” Vhin suggested, lust filled eyes falling on the man who was so keen on keeping Xilä. “Let me do it, Olo'eyktan,” she volunteered eagerly, hand reaching for the knife attached to her hip, "I could do it quickly, or slowly if you prefer-"

“No. Leave it!” he snapped. “We feast,” Su’ko ordered, clearly trying to distract and derail the conversation.

“And just what will we feast on?” a woman questioned. “Those vermin will not make a dent in our stomachs. You promised us food Su’ko, a bountiful.”

“Exactly! Where’s the rest of the food, Su’ko?” someone else demanded. “You never said that the sack you brought back was from the Omatikaya either.”

“How many other lies have you told us?!” another accused.

Su’ko blanched at the questioning, face growing enraged as the crowd grew rowdier towards him.

An uproar of agreement and disagreement ensued. Pointed fingers, bared fangs, curses and dangerous threats flew left and right. Weapons were drawn as one by one the few still seated got to their feet.

“Where’s the rest of the water and the medicine?”

“You gave us scraps!”

“Hoarding the rest for yourself, are you?”

“You’ve lied to us! You swore your truth to this clan!”

“Lies! All lies!” an elder roared. “You are no better than that bastard T'shteyo!”

It was finally happening.

The chaos…

She and Askadu had succeeded in their plan.

“SILENCE!” A man roared. “Listen…” he said ominously, ears perked as his eyes found the cave's entrance.

And in that very moment, when all had gone quiet did they all hear it…a chilling sound from the distance. The blaring call of a horn that warned of danger…grave danger.

Wide eyes and panicked expressions replaced the hostility from before, all attention falling to their leader as if he held the answer, as if waiting for instruction.

Hurried footsteps had them all tightening their grips on the handles of their weapons.

“Su’ko!”

The entire clan watched as a panting young man- no, boy raced through the entrance- exposed face pale in fear. The teen was probably one of the last to be born of the Li’ona people.

“Chief, there are people entering the boarders,” the boy declared, fire in his eyes as if excited for the prospect of a fight. “A lot of them."

Su'ko pounded the end of his staff against the ground. "Gather your weapons, round up the beasts, we ride out before last light!"

As the clan followed his directive, he marched toward Xi and grabbed her by the face, fingers and thumb sinking painfully. "Petal, your precious beloved will die tonight. I will string him up beside your father and watch as wild beasts feast on his corpse."

Xi's eyes squinted in amusement. "You're afraid. You reek of fear," she spat through clenched teeth.

His nostrils flared.

"Su'ko! Let's go!" someone called, pulling his attention away.

Su'ko paused, untrusting eyes wavering at Xi's words. "Dhgu!" he summoned his second, "Come with me, I have a plan."

“Get him down from there,” Neteyam ordered without emotion.

“Ugh, he reeks!” Lo’ak’s face squished in disgust at the sight of T’shteyo’s pitiful form being cut down from a high jagged rock. “Damn, I wonder how long he's been up there. His own people sure fucked him up… Is he dead?”

“I hope not,” Neteyam muttered, causing his brother to shoot him a mildly alarmed look.

The rest of their fleet hung back while a small group had broken away to investigate “the body” a scout had spotted.

T’shteyo forcefully peaked through squinted eyes- skin burnt and raw. “Wa-water…w-water,” he pleaded through blood cracked lips.

Neteyam crouched in front of the crumpled heap of limbs, head tilted as his arms hung lazily between his thighs.

“Where is my wife?”

“W-wat-water.”

“Where. Is. My wife,” he growled again.

“P-pl-please,” T'shteyo sobbed, bloodied fingers crawling at the dirt, reaching towards Neteyam’s feet in desperation.

“This?” Neteyam asked, revealing his own personal pouch which was secured to his hip. He uncapped it, removed his mask and took a long slow drink. He gave a satisfied sigh in delight, “Refreshing.”

Tears welled in T'shteyo’s eyes at the sight.

“Tell me where my wife is and I’ll consider giving you a sip.”

The man licked his lips. “They t-took her. Su’ko a-and his men.”

“Where?”

“Plea-”

“WHERE!”

“Past the village. T-they said s-something about a cave,” he rasped. “That’s a-all I know.”

Neteyam turned to his father who nodded, words not needing to be said. At once the Olo'eyktan ordered two scouts to fly ahead and check the area.

The sound of his name being called had him standing once more. “What is it?” he asked his approaching father-in-law.

“I’ll do it,” the elder said with a jerk of his chin in T'shteyo’s direction.

“Jxo, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“I have to…I need to,” he urged.

Neteyam hesitated. He’d been imagining this moment for days now- the moment he was finally able to kill the bastard who’d taken his mate. But Jxo, he guessed probably did need this more than him.

“Alright,” he relented, moving to the side so that Jxo could take his place. Curiously, he stood back and observed the elder’s actions.

Jxo tossed a waterskin and a parcel of food at the man before him. He waited patiently as T'shteyo scrambled without a glance upward, finishing both the water and the small meal within seconds.

“You...” T'shteyo said in shock, noticing Jxo for the first time.

“Me.”

“What are you playing at, old man?” he asked untrustingly. “Did you poison me?”

“Poison?” Jxo mused. “Oh no no no. That would be too kind of me, don’t you think? Too lenient…I just didn’t want you dying of thirst or starvation. Not while you and I have much to discuss.”

“Bro,” Lo’ak whispered to his brother, “what’s he up too?”

“No idea,” Neteyam murmured back as he too watched from the sidelines.

“Do you know what I do for my clan?” Jxo suddenly asked T'shteyo, gravelly voice calm and cool as he stooped and pulled out a rolled leather case from his pack.

“What?” T'shteyo was looking at him as if he were insane.

“I’m a woodworker. Have been since I was a boy…followed in my father’s footsteps actually. Anything you could possibly think of, I can create,” he said, “but you see carving, carving is my specialty,” he smiled- and Jxo rarely smiled, “lots of intricate work, detailed,” he emphasized as he unrolled the leather case to display an array of pointed and sharp tools and instruments.

T'shteyo’s face paled, realization drawing upon him at Jxo’s words. “Don’t-”

“Don’t what? Don’t hurt you? Don’t make you suffer? Don’t cause you pain?” Jxo asked. Face marring an angry expression, he leaned closer. “Xilä may not have my blood but she is my kid -my daughter. And you hurt her! You made her suffer, caused her pain…sold her as if she were fucking nothing!”

“N-Neteyam!” T'shteyo cried, pleading eyes falling to him, but Neteyam’s face was blank- void of any emotion as he watched on.

"He's not going to help you...see, like him, I know everything. Oh that's right, don't look so surprised. That's why I said we have much to talk about..." Jxo titled his head, scrutinizing the man, "You have physically and emotionally scarred my little girl since she was brought into this world. Did you honestly think you would get away with it?"

“Xi-Xilä, Xilä!” he whimpered then.

Neteyam was on the man before he could blink, knife drawing blood as it sank inches into his throat. “You don’t get to say her name,” he spat, murderous eyes ablaze, “You did this. I warned you, I even spared your life once. Not again. Now…now you pay.”

Crimson drops formed a small pool in the dirt between them and Neteyam had to force himself not to slit the man’s throat. “I’d kill you right this instant…but Jxo’s right…you don’t deserve a quick death.”

He shoved the pathetic Na’vi away, turning in time to spot the scouts flying back towards them.

When they’d been informed about the location of the cave, Jake began to round up the rest of their fleet, going over last minute strategies once more to include details the scouts were able to provide.

“You should go. I’m going to be here a while,” Jxo said to Neteyam as he fished out a sharpening stone and started to run it along a hooked-nose knife. “Page in when you get my kid.”

Hesitating for the second time that day, he sighed, “Alright then.” Neteyam signaled to three men. “Stay with Jxo while we head out. Once he’s…” he cleared his throat and averted his gaze when Jxo suddenly began to test out a flat headed chisel against a random rock- the blade sinking into it with ease, “once he’s finished, head back to Stephan’s ship. We’ll meet you there.”

“Neteyam!” T'shteyo cried again, fear crippling him as Jxo calmly tied a leather apron to his front, humming a tune cheerily as if it were just another day of crafting.

Neteyam shot T'shteyo one final blank stare. “You better pray that she’s alive… May we never meet again,” he said, before turning to stride towards their fleet.

“Bro,” Lo’ak shook his head, keeping pace with him, “remind me to never piss off Jxo, because I swear, your father-in-law is one scary motherfucker.”

Li’ona and Omatikaya.

Each side faced off- sixty feet between them as they glared and hissed at each other.

Neteyam and his father strode forward and met two Li’ona men half way, keeping them at a distance.

“Remember, let me do the talking,” Jake murmured to his son.

“Got it.”

There were no pleasantries exchanged, no signs of respect or polite greetings.

“You are not welcomed in these lands!” one of the men hissed. “Leave now, or we slaughter you all!”

Jake merely blinked, attention set on the second man instead- the one with the bloody bandaged ear. “My name is Jake Sully. Olo'eyktan for the Omatikaya. We mean no harm unless you don’t cooperate.”

“Jakesully, the mighty Toruk Makto…there is no need for you to be here! You and your Omatikaya filth must leave at once,” the same man sneered.

“Well we wouldn’t be here if you weren't holding one of our own captive.”

“There is none of your kind here!”

“Now that’s just not true now, is it? My daughter-in-law, Xilä, hand her over,” he ordered, once again addressing the second man.

“Why do you keep looking at him, I’m the one talking to you!”

Jake smirked behind his mask. “Because he’s the one in charge…it’s Su’ko, right?” he revealed, surprising the two men who tried to fool them. “Let’s not stall this out any longer. It’s quite simple actually. Hand Xilä over, and we’ll leave. That’s the second time I’ve asked. There won’t be a third.”

Neteyam zeroed in on Su’ko, fingers itching for the blade on his hip. The man clocked this and barked a laugh, finally speaking for the first time.

“So you’ve found me out then. Dhgu and I were just having a bit of fun. I admit you are far smarter than I was expecting Jakesully.”

His gaze fell on Neteyam again. “You must be the mate my new bitch keeps moaning on about…” He cocked his head to the side as if sizing him up. “She’s a feisty little thing, isn’t she?”

That was it.

Wait for the signal be dammed.

An audible crack broke the tension and pain bloomed across Neteyam’s knuckles from the sheer force of the blow he’d administered.

Su’ko dropped like a sack of yovo fruit, stunned eyes on the three men above him as if not realizing what just happened, mouth gushing crimson through his face covering.

With a simple press to the choker around his neck, Neteyam calmly said three chilling words that sounded through every person’s ear piece…

“Kill them all.”

And then all hell broke loose.

Both sides charged.

Jake attacked Su’ko’s goon just as Neteyam lurched toward the man himself.

The clans clashed in fits of knives, guns, teeth, fists, spares, guns, bows, arrows.

It was a bloodbath.

Brutal.

Savage.

Deadly.

Through the bodies who’d joined, Su’ko, the slimy filth, somehow managed to flee from Neteyam’s clutches.

Neteyam was intercepted when a Li’ona male threw himself at him. He fought off the fool with ease, blade piercing through his chin, sprinkling blood as it was ripped out.

Striding through the battle, Neteyam gained speed and gave chase. He was not going to let Su’ko escape.

The bastard was surprisingly fast and headed straight for a line of dead trees.

Coward.

Catching up to him, they attacked at the same time, knife clashing with spear. Their strikes were vicious in a song of snarls and grunts and curses, movements fluid and deliberate, flowing almost like a practiced dance.

Neteyam poured out every bottled up fury and frustration, vengeance flowing through his veins. He couldn’t kill T'shteyo, but this was as close as he could get.

Xilä flooded his mind.

Every bruise, every tear, every ounce of pain and hurt she’d endured at the hands of these lands, at the hands of its people.

This was his revenge for her.

He gained the upper hand when Su’ko stumbled and, lucky dagger pulled from the sheath on his chest, he plunged, and twisted.

Su’ko garbled in shock, blood trickling out from his lips and down his chin.

“For Xilä.”

Plunge.

“My mate.”

Plunge.

“Wife!”

Plunge.

“Mother of my future children.”

Plunge.

“Omatikaya’s destined Tsahìk.”

Plunge.

“And the woman who brought you to your end.”

Su’ko’s body dropped with an echoing THUD around the dead woods they were in.

Panting, Neteyam stared at the corpse without an ounce of remorse.

It was done.

Vhin seethed as her people were slaughtered. It was all that girl’s fault, that stupid, stupid girl!

She fled the battle and returned to the cave with only one intention.

“You little whore!” Vhin screeched, causing Xilä to freeze from her frantic task of trying to escape her chains.

She watched wide eyed as a knife wielding Vhin advanced on her.

“We should have just killed you in the first place!”

Xilä dodged her sloppy swings with practiced ease, but could only do so much as the chain became tangled beneath her. “Vhin, STOP!”

The woman laughed like psycho, reminding her of her overly disturbed father. “Su’ko is slaughtering your fucking mate as we speak! We’ll cut off his head and string him up for the beasts to feast on!"

An animalistic rage flooded Xilä’s mind where all she saw was blood. And with a roar of blinding anger, she attacked. This time not to subdue, not to block…but to kill.

In Xi and Vhin's tussle, the knife fell to the floor. The both dived for it crawling and kicking in a fit of limbs. Vhin managed to reach it first but Xi fisted her hair and slammed her face into ground.

Vhin screamed in pain as Xi wrestled the knife from her and forcefully tried to drive it into her face. They both strained and struggled as inch by inch the blade came closer and closer to Vhin’s face.

SPLAT!

Xi blinked as warm liquid speckled her face and neck. Her grip on the blade loosened, jaw falling open as she stared at the arrow embedded in Vhin’s temple.

What...?

Head snapping to the inflictor, there stood, with their bow was, “Leati!” Xi cried.

The warrior smirked, “You were taking too long to kill her.”

Scrambling away from the dead body she was still leaning over, a relieved sob escaped Xi.

Leati grumbled when Xi flung herself at her, hugging her tightly, but her annoyance simmered the instant they broke apart.

“Xilä…” she trailed off, taking in the horrifying way she looked. Shaking her head, she tugged on her wrist, “Let’s get out of here.”

“I can’t, this chain won’t budge!”

“Fuck,” Leati swore, kneeling to see if she could help.

“Leati, watch out!” Xi suddenly yelled as a rock went flying, missing the warrior’s head by inches.

“He’s dead! You killed him!” H’mdell, stalked towards Xilä. “He’s dead! What did you give my father?!”

Xi blanched…Askadu actually did it then...

Leati did not hesitate, she attacked like a flying banshee, leaping at the hulking man in sheer brutality. The two went stumbling off the short ledge in a fit of kicks and punches making Xi’s chest pound in worry.

“Xilä!” she heard someone call from a distance.

“Xilä!”

She hesitated to answer, it could have been anybody…

“XiXi!”

“Lo’ak?!”

He found her within seconds, relief etched in his eyes. “Oh thank Eywa. Xi, we gotta go, come on!”

“I can’t.” She showed him the chain, and he cursed.

“Here, stretch your leg out and block your ears,” he instructed as he lifted the large gun strapped to his chest.

With one precise shot, the chain was broken. “Let’s go!”

“Wait, what about Leati?!”

“She’ll be fine,” he assured, pulling her with him, giving her no other choice but to limp along.

They ran the length of the cave, bypassing dead bodies and still fighting Na’vi. Lo’ak led them to the edge of the entrance, tugging her behind a boulder, so they were hidden when a pair of Li’ona men came running in.

He turned towards her, ready to tell her their plan of escape but suddenly noticed. “Where’s your shit? You can’t go out there like that!” he hissed, momentarily ignoring her cuts and bruises to instead focus on her lack of boots and cloak.

“They stole it from me.”

“Oh those fuckers,” he huffed. “Stay here, I’ll be right back.”

Xi watched as he crawled away. Then, in less than two minutes he was back, beckoning her over eagerly. “Alright, the coast is clear, in you get,” he directed, untying his cloak to open it wide for her to share it with him.

She was lifted off her feet before she could blink and then Lo’ak was moving like lightning.

He dodged past the body he had just taken out and skirted around two females who were locked in hand to hand in combat, then out into the darkness of stifling heat. Within seconds, they were in the air as his ikran came flying out from nowhere.

Xilä curled into Lo’ak and tucked in her feet. She worriedly peered down at the raging war below for merely a second before Lo'ak was pushing her head down. "Don't look," he whispered.

When he knew they were about to approach the jagged rock, he kept her firmly locked with a gentle hold. He didn't want her to see in case Jxo was still at work on her father.

Good thing too, because when he spotted them, he grimaced at the sight. From as high up as they were, the sheer volume of T'shteyo's vibrant red blood was a stark contrast to the dull, dusty ground.

Jxo was not playing around…

They made it to the ship in no time. Stephan, a medic and two guards were there to greet them. Lo’ak carried her into the aircraft where she collapsed from fatigue, adrenaline wearing off, leaving her weak and aching.

“Drink up XiXi,” her brother-in-law said softly, pressing the sprout of a water pouch against her lips.

She drank greedily.

Lo’ak’s throat bobbed as he finally observed her. She looked like she’d been through hell. He gently brushed the back of her hair when she’d finished and slumped forward to lean into his shoulder.

“I’m sorry we didn’t get here sooner,” he murmured.

“It’s okay. I’m just glad you’re here now.”

“He’s right,” Stephan said, butting in. He gave her a sheepish expression from his seat on the floor opposite them- head bandaged and arm in a sling. “I’m sorry I didn’t try harder…do more.”

Xi shook her head, a smile peeking through to let him know it was okay. She had no words, so she hoped it conveyed how grateful she was of him.

The medic had just begun to attend to her bloody ankle when she asked anxiously, “Lo’ak, is Neteyam okay? Have you checked in with him?”

“I haven't yet. But don’t worry, he��s fine.”

“Can you go make sure? Please? My husband is-”

“Will be fine,” he said firmly.

“But-”

“Xi, I made him a promise. Me being here. I’m honoring that promise.”

“You need to stay calm,” the medic interrupted, adjusting something on the beeping machine she was hooked up to.

But worry only made Xilä’s pulse roar just as fast.

“Hey,” Lo’ak murmured softly, taking her hand in his own, “Xi, everything will be okay.”

“Lo’ak…I don’t want our people to get hurt… especially my Ne- I’m here. I’m safe. They can stop and come back now…tell them,” she urged. "Tell him!"

“I can’t do that, Xi…”

“They’re going to kill them all, aren't they?”

“What do you think? If the roles where reversed, tell me.”

She pursed her lips. “I think, I think if Neteyam was in my position…I think I’d do the same thing too.”

“Well, there you have it. Now, please try to stay calm. Getting worked up won’t help him right now. Okay? It's Neteyam, come on Xi, who do you think taught us everything he knows?”

An uncontrollable huff of a laugh escaped her. Xilä nodded, then forced herself to take a deep breath.

Jxo and the three warriors accompanying him were the first ones to arrive.

Xilä broke down the minute the elder wrapped her up in his arms. They were both a mumbling, sobbing mess as they reunited. Xi didn’t even care that his cloak was coated in fresh blood that stained her already filthy clothes and skin.

“What are you doing here?” she asked through a blinding grin.

Jxo shrugged and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “I may not be a warrior, but I know my way around a good blade,” he joked.

They stayed wrapped up for who knows how long, seated in a corner of the cool ship until she began to nod off- body aching and begging for sleep.

Only when the early hours of the morning finally dawned did they hear the cries of ikrans.

The bay doors opened and Xilä stepped as far out onto the landing as she could, searching the crowd of returning warriors for one in particular.

Relief flooded her when Leati was spotted unharmed.

Meanwhile, Neteyam, one of the last to land, was doing the same.

Through the parting bodies, he caught sight of her instantly and a flood of emotion lodged in his chest. She was a bruised and bloody mess, and still the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

In quick strides as soon as she was within arms reach, he lifted her into his arms. Legs locked around his waist, forehead and noses pressing into each other as their gazes locked- intense and reassuring.

“Baby- oh fuck. Please, please tell me this is real.”

“I’m here. I’m here, it’s me.” Xilä tugged his mask free to cup his cheeks, “Oh Eywa, you’re just as handsome as I remembered.”

They both laughed, teary eyed and choked up. And unable to stifle it, a sob escaped him.

“Please don’t cry. We’re both here. We’re both fine.”

“C’mere.” He’d barely brushed her lips when she pulled away.

“I’m filthy,” she whined.

“I don’t care.”

And then he was claiming her lips, keeping her locked with a possessive grip on the back of her neck, and uncaring of their cheering audience as their tongues and teeth reunited.

Journey squawked loudly from above them, landing clumsily as she vied for attention. Neteyam walked them out a few steps from under the ship’s covering so she could greet her ikran.

The mountain banshee nipped at Xi’s hood making her laugh.

“Xi…”

Her husband was kissing her again, pouring out every ounce of emotion he could this time.

A drop of liquid splashed Neteyam’s cheek, and then another. And another.

They broke apart, matching frowns lifting to the sky.

Rain.

With a roar, the skies opened, showering them with sweet sweet rain as thunder rumbled in the distance. Xilä’s jaw dropped, palms reaching out to feel if she’d been imagining things but no.

Eywa.

Hoods were shrugged down and grins went wide as the Omatikaya people celebrated.

“It’s raining,” she whispered in awe as droplets fell down her cheeks. She inhaled sharply when she met her husband’s intense stare. “You’re really here. You came… for me,” she murmured, index finger tracing the soft flesh of his lips.

“Always. I'd move mountains if I have to. I love you Xilä Sully. So fucking much. You should know that by now,” he whispered, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“I love you too,” she sniffed, rain masking her tears.

“What do you want, baby?”

“I want to go home,” she said through trembling lips.

“Yeah, okay,” he murmured, “Let’s get you home.”

“But wait…Kiss me first.”

He nodded, smile cracking wide as he leaned in. “Whatever you want sweetheart, whatever you want,” he said, claiming her lips once more.

I’m rushing to post this since I have an early appointment. So I may or may not come back to post a proper AN.

But as always, you know what to do lovelies :)

Seriously hope y’all enjoyed this chapter.

Tags: @jakesullyfatjuicypeen @granddearduck @riatesullironalite @strawberri-blonde @earthling55 @innercreationflower @duckworthbean @gyuventure @btsiguess-kpop @blkmystery @neteswife @luvteyams @isnt-itstrange @erenjaegerwifee @faatxma @ivysully @bakugouswaif

If you'd like to be tagged or I forgot you by accident, please let me know.

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poppyseed1031 · 5 months

Text

Tunutu II

✮ Meaning: object of desire, crush

✮ Pairing: Aonung x fem!human reader

✮ Meaning: object of desire, crush

✮ Warnings: Reader POV, smutty smut smut, angst if you squint, slight fingering, P in V, kuru play, fluffiness

✮ Word Count: 3.8k (yes ik im so sorry my darlings, its not that much but i ran out idk what to tell you, i can only do so many mental breakdowns 🤷🏻‍♀️)

So yeah, this one is a little shorter but this was really just to tie it off with a cute little ending, so I hope you enjoy my loves 💗

*Aonung is inspired by this beautiful art made by the lovely @nikyu0 ♡*

──────⊱⁜⊰──────

The next time you saw Aonung after that day in your room, you didn't know what you were expecting. Maybe, like he usually did with other girls, he'd pretend nothing ever happened. Maybe he'd taunt you and say it was all a joke, despite everything you said.

If you're being honest- you didn't have high hopes. It's not like all your other experiences with Metkayina men had ended with them ackegknowledging you afterward, after half-breaking your back and saying you were the tightest thing they've ever felt.

But you certainly weren't expecting him to stick to his words.

Days had passed since you slept with Aonung, days in which you didn't see him around the village or anywhere around Awa'atlu. Of course, your mind had just come to terms with the fact he was like all the other guys, and you really had been stupid, listening to the meaningless pillow-talk riff raff he'd cooed at you afterwards.

No one would say where he was, and Tsireya, Rotxo and the Sully's all acted infuriatingly knowing and smug when you sneakily asked them. Very casual. Definitely off-hand. Nonchalant for sure.

And you were. It wasn't that deep that Aonung, like you predicted and prepared yourself for, did not stick to his words about sticking around and everything. You were stupid and hopeful, and you didn't really blame him either.

So you were trying your best to put him behind you when a whole week had passed without you seeing him, and you were starting to fall back into your old patterns. It wasn't your fault you were a horny little thing, and especially now so that there wasn't someone to take care of it.

Which is why, on the eighth day, you could be found in the Tsahìk's marui.

There had been an incident at training where Zei'ke had gotten a little bruised and battered. He was very good looking, so you tolerated his chatter. God- he really was even stupider than Aonung. Why did you always just go for big stupid hunks?

But at the end of the day, he was a big hunk, so you were happy to patch him up, applying ointment to his cuts and bruises, bandaging the worse injuries and massaging his sore muscles.

The trouble was, Tsireya had begged you to come swimming that afternoon, and this was your first time wearing swimmers out in the village. So maybe your bikini was a little smaller than it could of been, but who was it hurting, really, to be showing off the best assets you had to offer in a strictly na'vi village.

It certainly wasn't hurting Zei'ke, given the way his eyes stared not so conspicuously down your top when you bent over, or how the ties of your bikini bottoms peeked over your shorts.

What's the harm in having some fun, you thought.

It wasn't like Aonung was going to do anything, his absence had made it pretty clear that he was a liar, that it really was just about sex, maybe even just experimentation.

But when you moved closer, leaning up to massage Zei'ke's shoulders, you were surprised by the way he flinched back.

"What, am I hurting you?" you ask, frowning slightly. You had been careful, using your hands gently and besides, na'vi were literally impossible for you to injure.

"No," Zei'ke says slowly, blinking owlishly at you. His gaze flicks down to your breasts, then he clears his throat and looks away. You frown.

"Is there a problem with my clothing?"

"No- I just... I should go," he says hastily.

"Why?" you ask, weary and suspicious. You wonder vaguely if suddenly, everyone's starting to wonder if you're turning into the evil sort of tawtute. "I haven't finished massaging your muscles-"

"You shouldn't," Zei'ke says shortly. "He wouldn't like it."

That was new. Your eyes narrow as you try to guess what this skxawng is going on about, but you have a sinking sort of feeling you know exactly what's happening.

"And who are you talking about?"

Zei'ke blinks guiltily. Obviously he wasn't supposed to say anything, but if he was careless and clumsy enough to let the first words slip, you could pull the rest out of him.

"This wouldn't have anything to do with a certain future Olo'eyktan, would it?" you ask casually, shifting on your feet to look more careless. "You know, tall, stupid, very good looking. Name's Aonung?"

"No!" Zei'ke practically bursts out, before scrunching his face up guiltily. Even someone that thick would realise he wasn't convincing anyone. Your eyes narrow further.

"What does him not liking it have to do with anything?" you ask.

"He is my commander," Zei'ke says owlishly.

"No," you huff, growing tired of his incompetence. "Why would he not like it?"

"Because... well... you fucked him..."

"Charming," you mutter under you breath, rolling your eyes at his very limited vocabulary. "What does us sleeping together have to do with anything? I've been with other na'vi men, and that didn't change anything, especially about others?"

Zei'ke frowns, processing your words, and you want to take him by the shoulders and rattle him. It would be hard though, given he's double the size of you.

"You are his," Zei'ke says simply.

"What the fuck does that mean?"

"No other man goes near you," Zei'ke explains. "Sometimes we can argue with the claim, but he is to be Olo'eyktan, and we do not dare-"

"What is he playing at?" you snap. "We just fucked, I've fucked others and nothing ever happened with that? Just because he's the little prince he thinks he can control what I do?"

"Uh... I don't know?" he says weakly, and your scowl deepens.

"How did you even know about that anyway?"

"We can all smell his scent on you," Zei'ke says, face flushed with embarrasment. "You did not realise, tawtute?"

"Obviously fucking not," you growl.

"Besides," Zei'ke says, obviously eager to take some of the heat off himself, "Aonung got upset with us asking about you. That's why I'm so battered."

At this, you freeze. Zei'ke can obviously tell he said something important, because he winces and scrunches his face up.

"I mean- no- I tripped-"

"Shut up," you say carelessly. "You saw Aonung?"

"Yes? I mean... he's been at training for day-"

With a furious growl, you push past Zei'ke, storm out of the marui, and stalk along the village. You can feel his eyes blinking owlishly at you, clearly torn between confusion and worry for what Aonung might do to him.

Rage is boiling in your veins. First, Aonung ignores you after promising a million things. Then he "claims" you or whatever the fuck that means. And now it turns out, he was here. In Awa'atlu. And he just didn't come and see you.

You storm across the sand to the warrior grounds, hands balled into little fists. All the sparring and beatings and fights don't faze you, you storm straight through all the tussles towards the familiar broad figure of Aonung on the very opposite side.

Fights pause and everyone stares as you stride past, all tiny and furious in your bikini and shorts, less clothing than they'd ever seen you in.

Finally, you reach Aonung. He hasn't noticed all his warriors have stopped fighting, he hasn't even noticed you storming towards him. He's busy sharpening a spear, discussing something with Neteyam seated beside him.

Neteyam is the first to spot you, and his eyes go wide. Before he can say anything, Aonung notices his friend's surprise, and turns with a small, puzzled frown on his stupidly handsome face to see you right in front of him.

Thank Eywa he's seated, because it makes your next action a lot easier. You slap him. Hard.

Several people gasp, everyone mutters, and all eyes are now on you as you glare up at him. Aonung's eyes are dark, but he doesn't say anything. He looks a little confused, and that makes you even more furious.

You shove him hard. Mortifyingly, yet predictably if you're looking at it logically, Aonung doesn't move a single inch, and suddenly you're right against his warm, muscular body. Stupid skxawng, his hotness making it hard for you to be mad at him.

"You dick," you growl. "You fucking idiot-"

Aonung clears his throat, clearly aware of everyone watching with varying degrees of surprise, interest and amusement as this little angry tawtute snarls curses at their commander. Neteyam, too, looks slightly entertained.

"Dismissed," he calls to his warriors.

They all wander off, taking their sweet time to cast glances back at you, muttering excitedly between themselves. Neteyam stands awkwardly, trying to hide a smile.

"I'm going to go," he says decidedly. "I'll see you later bro. Good luck."

Aonung nods tightly, before his gaze flicks back down to you, glaring up at him with all your might. This fucking skxawng is going to be the death of you. He obviously wasn't going to be the first one to speak, so you took a deep breath.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?"

"I was training my warriors," Aonung says bluntly.

"Fucking idiot," you growl. "What are you playing at, claiming me."

"I thought that was clear," Aonung frowns. "You're mine."

"Why does everyone keep saying that?" you grumble.

"I told you syulang-"

"Don't call me that."

"That you would not need any others anymore," Aonung says simply. "I would take care of you from now on."

"Oh?" you snap. "Yeah, you've been doing a great fucking job, given that I haven't seen you in a week."

Aonung frowns deeper, and you take another breath.

"Look Aonung, I can deal with you not wanting to be with a tawtute, I've done this shit before. But don't be acting like you have anything to do with me if you so clearly don't give a fuck."

At this, Aonung just furrows his brow. He's so big compared to you, even when he's seated, you're still the same height. Then, tentatively, one of his hands reaches towards you. You watch it, all large and teal and the size of your fucking head, before it moves to rest on your waist. You don't push it away.

Instead, you just look back up at him. To your annoyance, your anger is fading away. No no no. You should be angry with him. He can't get off this easily. He can't just touch your waist and blink his pretty eyes and make you melt into a gooey puddle.

"I did not mean to upset you paksalin," he says in a soft voice. "I meant what I said- that you're mine and I would take care of you."

"Then why didn't you come and see me?" you whisper. "I waited for you- and when I went looking, no one would tell me where you were."

"I have been on a hunt," Aonung says gently. "My father wanted me to do... something for Olo'eyktan, but that isn't important."

"It sounds important," you say, stepping back slightly, remembering again how this was literally the future leader of the clan.

"Not more than you," Aonung says firmly, grabbing your hand and pulling you back towards him.

It was a moment that would be so cliche if it was anyone else, that you're suddenly right between his seated legs and inches away. But this is Aonung, and you feel your last strands of annoyance and restraint snap as you meet his gaze.

"You look amazing," Aonung whispers, gaze trailing down to your bikini. "I've never seen you wear this."

"Yeah- well I was going to go swimming with Tsireya and I- wait-"

Aonung's hand is already sneaking up your top, the other moving to undo the button of your shorts, and you grip his shoulders for stability.

"Aonung," you breathe. "I'm trying to talk-"

"Let me make it up to you paksalin," he whispers, already shimmying your clothes away so you're just in your bikini now.

"This is a public place," you try to say. "Anyone can see-"

"I dismissed them," Aonung says carelessly. "They know better than to come back."

Before you can do anything else, his hand is in your bikini bottom. You squeeze your eyes shut in slight mortification of how wet you already are, breath shaky and your hands immediately jumping to steady yourself on his broad shoulders.

"I'm sorry yawne," he says quietly, lightly kissing your neck as he lightly traces over your clit.

"That's not fair," you grumble shakily. "Apologising when you're already in my fucking pants."

Aonung just grins and trails his lips further down your neck.

"I want to kiss you," you mutter to Aonung.

"You can't," he points out gently, lightly tracing over your clit.

"Bedroom," you gasp, as you meet his gaze. "Come on, pretty boy."

You're practically being carried by Aonung as you burst into your house.

Lo'ak and Spider are on the couch, staring in disbelief and entertainment as you crash through the door in Aonung's arm in nothing but your bikini.

"Be careful with her bro," is all Lo'ak says, him and Spider both grinning stupidly as you flip them off and go into your room.

Really, you've taken na'vi cocks before, but it feels like you're being stretched to infinity as Aonung bullys his way into you. You know he's being gentle as he can, asking if you're comfortable, if you're alright, but you're being stretched as you never had before.

The stretch is a delicious burn as Aonung rocks his hips deeper, until he's as far in as he's going to get, before he pulls out nearly to the tip.

When you turn to glare at him, he snaps his hips forward again and you have no choice but to cling onto him. His lips find his way on your neck, your nails digging into his broad back as he rolls his hips and thrusts deep into you.

It's rougher this time, you both know you can take him, and you're both more than eager to push to the furthest possible limits. Neither of you mention Lo'ak or Spider, neither of you care enough about them to bother to quiet or slow down. Each thrust punches your breath out of you, and Aonung's practically hissing at the way you're hugging his cock.

One large hand reaches up to grip the bedhead and push himself deeper in a way that makes you practically scream, the other pulling the strings of your bikini so you're bare under him. It, too, is tossed away, like the rest of your clothes that still lay abandoned on the training grounds floor.

He hisses as your tits are freed, bouncing with every thrust and pushed up against his chest as he thrusts deeper and deeper, his large hands coming up to grip them on the border of being too rough.

After a few experimental movements that have you nearly whimpering, he moves deep and quick, spitting curses and groans at the feeling of you around him and the sound of your shameless moans in his ears.

He's whispering nearly unintelligible things against your neck, words of worship, mutters of how tight you are, little praise of how well you're doing. He's moving at animalistic paces, and you're unravelling into a moaning, trembling mess under him, teeth sunk into his shoulder to try and quiet your sounds, because you sure as fuck can't hold them in.

"Fuck Aonung," you burst out, sinking your teeth into your hand to cover up your sounds. He impatiently pulls your hand away and crashes his lips onto yours.

This time feels more experimentative for you- last time was his first with a human. Now you get to explore, and when you run your tongue lightly over his fangs, he moans shamelessly into your mouth and buries himself deeper in you.

It's starting to get too much, the coil in your stomach growing too close too soon, and your moans are starting to border on lewd whines and whimpers as you sink your teeth into his soft warm lips.

"Aonung," you hiss, "I'm- I'm close."

"Go ahead then," he grins, before sinking his teeth lightly into your collar.

With that, you unravel, crying out and arching so you're pressed right up against him. Your vision blanks out as everything disappears for a moment, the only sound in the world being your cries and Aonung's groaned curses.

He fucks you through your high, wave upon wave of overwhelming pleasure cresting in white-hot disbelief. You can feel him twitch inside of you, and you moan at a particularly hard thrust. Each rock of his hips knocks every breath, every thought out of you until your heart is pounding in rhythm with each increasingly rough, deep, animalistic thrust of his cock rutting between your legs.

Na'vi have seemingly impossible sex drives, which you're only too happy to ride out with Aonung. With your hands gripping for dear life to your sheets and his braided hair, you just hope to Eywa you don't black out. You highly doubt the creases in your sheets will ever come out; if they were living, your desperate shaky hands would have strangled them in your attempts to stay still.

Then your hand slips, and you grip Aonung's kuru by accident. He gasps and looks straight at you.

The look in his eyes has you clenching around him, all dark and hungry and curious and desperate at the same time, pupils blown so wide the beautiful blue of his eyes was all but a thin ocean ring around large black orbs.

"Sorry," you breathe, trying not to melt at the sight of him.

"No, paksalin. You can touch, I am yours."

Again, he has you clenching around him. The pure sincerity of his words goes straight through you, and you tentatively slide your hand down the thick braid that covers his kuru. His movements slow slightly, thrusting deep and slow so he can pay attention to what you're doing.

Then the glowing pink tendrils reached out to your small hands and enclosed one of your thin fingers.

You, clearly, are not na'vi. But you can feel the neural connection, the intimacy of the kuru, feeling almost as though Aonung himself is coursing through you. The gentle tendrils are warmly pulsing with a soft pinkish glow, matching your and Aonung's heartbeat. You gave an experimental flex of your fingers, and Aonung gasped, hips jerking deep into you, and you both groan.

"Fuck paksalin," he mutters, starting to move again.

As you experiment more with his kuru, trailing it over your fingers, legs and finally breasts, Aonung grows more and more desperate, rutting harder and deeper into you. You can hardly breathe, given that he's practically punching breath from you with each deep movement.

You yelp as he speeds up now, brutal and animalistic as the last tenterhooks of his strained restraint snaps and he buries himself deep inside you. He's hissing a million unintelligible words against your skin as he spills himself inside you, rocking his hips the whole time until, with an ominous creaking, something snaps and suddenly you're being tilted backwards and sliding down the mattress.

Aonung just broke your fucking bed.

"Fuck, sorry," he mumbles, looking mortified, but you can't contain a small laugh, taking his flushed face in your hands and lightly kissing all over his blushing cheeks.

So yeah, he kind of broke your room. And that wasn't the first thing that happened, as your various exploits with the Metkayina prince continued over the next few days.

Sometimes it was in the healing marui you worked in during the days. Aonung would come in, grumbling some bullshit about training too hard and sore muscles or whatever, and you'd find yourself lying on the floor, his large head nestled hungrily between your squishy thighs he loves so much.

Or maybe it would be at the training grounds, where, at the slightest sight of you, Aonung would dismiss all his warriors and have you on your knees on the soft sand, taking him as far as you can in your throat, his large hands gently holding back your hair and passing you your breathing mask every 50 fucking seconds.

It could just as often be at your house too, bouncing on his dick, arched to the sky on your clumsily repaired bed, or pinned back against your lumpy old mattress.

You learnt things, that he felt pressured a lot of the time, that he was comfortable around you. That he could be the sweetest man ever, but you quickly learnt about his jealousy and possessiveness of you when it came to other guys.

It's not like that ever bothered you that much, but you put on a good enough show of no, don't be so jealous, just so he'd be on his hands on knees worshipping and begging for forgiveness that you would have given regardless.

And then there was the moments after. It's not like the heat and desire ever died, no, but there were moments where you'd just sit nestled up against his much larger figure, talking endlessly with him.

And somehow, you always managed to end up naked. And somehow, your clothes that would always be hastily discarded never returned.

You were starting to suspect there was a reason to why your clothes kept going missing. Something linked to beautifully woven and beaded na'vi-style clothes Aonung had promised to make you, something linked to the massive Aonung-sized footprints in the dirt outside your house, something linked to the familiar amber-seasalt scent that lingered in your closet.

First, it was your largest clothing. That massive jumper was the first to go, and Spider had just laughed uproariously when you told him it was missing. Then it was the baggy pants. Then the long skirts and flowy t-shirts.

The more clothes started going missing, the more you started to suspect. When you opened your closet one day after returning from the healing marui, you realized just how much had started to "disappear".

All that was finally left was your cargo shorts and tank you were wearing. You scowled, wondering what on earth were your clothes being used for, and where had they been hidden, when a glittering caught the corner of you eye, and you gasped.

You hadn't missed Aonung's remarks over the past few days of how amazing you'd look in na'vi clothes, but Eywa, you would have never imagined your simple, pretty, dumb man to be able to pull off something so devious and beautiful and well... clever.

Gingerly, you reached out into your closet to pull out the most beautiful top you'd ever seen in your life.It was intricately woven with hands you knew only too well. And you trusted them too.

The next day, gazes followed you throughout the village; eyes practically popping out of their sockets at the sight of you in the na'vi clothes Aonung had made. Sure, the coverage of the top was minimal, but the weaving and beading hugged your curves tightly, and the larger breasts you possessed drew attention from everyone alike.

All your patients in the healing hut stared shamelessly, the girls gushing with compliments, the guys quiet, no doubt knowing the wrong move would end up with them back here again after Aonung beat the absolute living shit out of them.

When the day finally ended and Aonung came into the healing hut, he just stopped. And stared.

"Do you like it?" you asked nervously. "They're beautiful, Aonung."

"Paksalin," he whispers, dumping the irrelevant shit he had been carrying and striding over to you. "You look beautiful."

You beam at him.

"You kept your promise," you whisper, moving over to touch his face.

"Of course yawne," he smiles. "I could not disappoint my tunutu."

His.

You smile back, moving to pull your big stupid hunk into a gentle kiss. Eywa truly did bless you with him.

This is better than anything you could have dreamed of. Better than you had ever even hoped after you slept with him for the first time. Because you are absolutely each others. Now and forever.

My little desire.

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poppyseed1031 · 5 months

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neytiri riding an ilu

(shoulda been called stubborn sullys)

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poppyseed1031 · 5 months

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goodbye mo’at 😭 (kinda glad this one got cut or i’d be balling my eyes out way too early into the film)

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poppyseed1031 · 5 months

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DATE NIGHT EXTENDED IT’S HEREEEE

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poppyseed1031 · 5 months

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DELETED SCENE: PARENTS FROM HELL

Avatar: The Way of Water (2022) -- Deleted Scene: Parents From Hell (Source)

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poppyseed1031 · 5 months

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DELETED SCENE: PARENTS FROM HELL

Avatar: The Way of Water (2022) -- Deleted Scene: Parents From Hell (Source)

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poppyseed1031 · 5 months

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Tì'eylan ✮ Pairing: Aonung x fem!human!reader ✮ Trope: Friends to lovers ✮ Word Count: 16k ✮ Tags: mentions of sexual partners, talk of sex, size difference, fluff, Aonung's pov (kinda mega horny for her), jealously, lap sitting, accidental stimulation, masturbation (m), slight slight angst if you squint, kissing, biting, munchiness, coming untouched, p in v, nicknames (Aonung calls reader tsawksyul, which means sunlily) ✮ A/N: so I kinda went a little overboard with this one - idk what to tell you - i had a lot to say and ngl had a lot of daydreams during boring classes that i didnt have time to turn into writing till now (>﹏<) Also lol, I'm on holiday w my family rn so writing this at times was quite risky but anyway, HOPE YOU ENJOY MY DARLINGS, I REALLY LIKED WRITING THIS ONE <3

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Never in a million years would you have suspected that you’d end up close friends with Aonung.

When you met him, shielded by the somewhat brotherly protection of Neteyam and Lo’ak, Aonung had been indifferent to you at the very best, and taunting and infuriating for the first few weeks in Awa’atlu.

All it took was a few skirmishes, several unorthodox verbal arguments, and one fucked up altercation with other humans for Aonung to get off his high horse of hazing the newbies.

You weren’t sure if it was Neteyam’s near-death and your inconsolable distress over it, or the closeness of you getting nearly kidnapped by the Recoms (the “pretty traitor” as the had called you left little to imagination of what sort of fates you would have met with the RDA), but there on that empty beach, watching the sun set in the safety of the village bay, left alone or maybe even forgotton, you had found his ridiculously tall form approaching.

Aonung sat slowly and silently beside your smaller, disconcerted figure. After a wordless moment, in which you continued to absently stare out at the empty horizon, he had placed a soft, woven blanket over you.

It was a little rough, but of course he didn’t mean to be. Moreover, it had just been a wordless loan of something quite too large for your human figure – so much so you were practically drowning in it – but the weight was warm and reassuring, as, surprisingly, was his still, quiet presence hulking beside you.

“Thank you.”

Your whisper – feeble and weak even to your own ears – would have been lost in the breeze and lapping waves, but you later reminded yourself of na’vi’s superior senses, as he let out a small sound of acknowledgment, silently noting how shaken you still were.

“Are you alright?” he had asked, following your unspoken rule and also quietly watching the ocean, and more importantly, keeping his gaze from your pale, unnerved face.

“Yep.”

And that had been just that.

No more words had been spoken, not so much as a glance or gesture was offered, but something had changed as the unlikely pair of you sat in ponderous silence, watching the gilded horizon.

You never really discussed the hiccup at your initial meeting (and the period that had followed before friendship was forged), but you never needed to. Aonung had wordlessly conveyed his apology, as had you accepted it.

It is an uncomplicated friendship; time spent together is full of teasing and laughter and often petty argument, and time spent apart is to gather new material to discuss, to scheme up new ways to make the other’s life an amusing hell, and of course to just fuck around.

Which leads to one fact; Aonung is a slut.

You could tell it from the moment you saw him, even before knowing his desirable position in the clan or noting the lovesick-lustful looks the village girls couldn’t tear off their faces when he was within eyesight. It’s not just obvious through his physical appearance (although, admittedly, that is the work of the lord), but through his walk and talk and everything in between.

Even before your friendship, you knew Aonung was off with a different girl every few days, and said girl would always then labour under the deulusion she alone captured the lustful gaze of her future Olo’eyktan – something that always reminded you not to fall for your friend in his hopelessly infuriating slutiness.

It came as no surprise to you when your theory of you friend being Pandora’s biggest slut was proved to be quite true, so you aren’t entirely sure why the outlines of your love life came as quite the shock to the Metkayina man.

“Tell me,” he says with a small, ponderous frown, as though something had just occurred to him, though you knew this look perfectly well to guess what he was about to say was not some casual thought that slid nonchalantly into his mind. “How have you been taking care of yourself?”

You look wearily up from your beadings to squint at him – all stretched out and full of lazy curiousity on the woven mat of your marui. This is how you often spent the warm afternoons in Awa’atlu; you beading or mixing herbs or cooking or something actually useful, while your friend bothers you.

You were still too weary of actually swimming with people, surrounded by beautiful, tall, slim, lithe na’vi girls, and although Aonung had tried to convince you a million times, those bikinis you brought with you remained secretly stowed away deep in the darkest parts of your marui.

Sometimes at night, you would slip out the walkway of your marui into the cool ocean below, but careful that there’s no one around to see. At least it meant na’vi were absolutely shocked to say the least when they saw just how curvy human bodies could get without your flowy clothing.

“What are you on about?” you sigh. “I’m perfectly healt-”

“I meant physically,” Aonung says casually. “Maintaining yourself sexually.”

Oh.

Your friend did have a habit of being carelessly blunt in his manners, but that was one thing that managed to take you by surprise.

“What do you think?” you laugh, throwing off your disconcertion and far too used to your friend - and all na’vi really - disregard for topics very much taboo for humans to be thrown off by the quite personal question.

“Well…” he shifts closer to gage your expression, a small furrow creasing his brow. “You are the only tawtute here, and I’m sure even your kind have sexual needs that must be met. So how…”

“Do I cope when I get horny?” you finished, raising your brows and wrinkling your nose at him. Aonung nods, throat looking a little tight but otherwise unbothered by the delicacy a conversation like this should typically have. “What sort of answer are you looking for, Aonung?”

He blinks, then shakes his head in a puppyish way and you grin.

“I don’t just take care of me myself, if that’s what you’re wondering,” you answer elusively.

You never told Aonung the truth. The truth that you have no shortage of Metkayina men offering to deal with your sexual desires, lost in their own curiosity of human-na’vi sexual experimentation.

And you’d be lying if you pretended you weren’t attracted to them. How could you not be?

Na’vi were nine to ten feet of practically pure muscle, cloaked in beautiful, smooth blue skin and glimmering with pretty glowing tahnì. They were slim and wire, agile and graceful in their movements and talented beyond anything a human could ever possibly possess.

So, discreetly, you would indulge in all sorts of capers. It was, admittedly, a lot of fun.

Sometimes you’d be offered pretty little gifts, clumsily complimented on your human looks and talents, or even simply carried away in heated moments of pleasure and experimentation.

But here was Aonung, nearly your best friend at this point, who just heard your vague answer to his curious question.

You can physically see the moment the connotation of your words sinks into his thick skull, and his eyes widen large as Pandora and his lips part in shock.

“Oh, don’t look so surprised,” you grin, flicking him on the shoulder. “You didn’t expect me to sit all tight and pretty and alone while practically stranded on an island of mega hot people, did you?”

Aonung looks as though he very much did expect that, or at least the thought of you fucking other members of his clan had certainly never crossed his mind. In fact, he looks nothing short of stupefied as he stares at you.

“Who?” he demands, an unmistakable scowl settling over his face.

“Really?” you laugh, rolling your eyes. “Like I’d tell you.”

“Why not?” he asks sullenly, muscles tense and jaw clenched.

“Because I know you, Aonung,” you smile. “And I know how you act around Tsireya with Lo’ak, and I don’t need your stupid ass scaring away my possible companions.”

“Companions,” he grunts with derisive amusement, before his scowl fixes once again and he furrows his brow once more. “You do know I do not see you as a sister, right?”

“Yeah well… don’t tell me that if I share who I’ve been with that you won’t get mad at them.”

Aonung pauses, and you can see he recognises your point; at the slightest mention of a name, Aonung would be up with the guy pinned up bruised and bloodied.

“So you like na’vi then?” Aonung questions. “Even though we’re double your height and could throw you twenty feet?”

“On the contrary,” you say with a sly, amusing grin, “that’s exactly what I like.”

When Aonung’s face slackens a little in shock, you laugh openly and shake your head.

“But who cares if I like na’vi- they’re hot and muscly, so it’s totally justified in my opinion!” you say with a wide, shameless grin. “The real question is why the guys were attracted to me – if humans are so small and weak looking or whatever else you giants think of us, then why would they want to fuck me?”

“That really is a whole other question,” Aonung sighs, rolling his eyes as though you’re being stupid. “But be honest, what do you think of me-”

He’s cut off by your pillow smacking him heavily in the face, and resurfaces to find your little frown a foot away from his.

“Hey, I was honest with you,” you scowl. Lie.

But you weren’t about to admit the truth – that your irritating friend is just about the hottest thing you’ve ever seen in your life. You try to put it from your mind; those ten feet of pure muscle sculpted to glorious perfection only masked his stupidity and secret superpower of infuriating you with the slightest of comments or even glances.

“And what do you keep in that little book of yours then?” Aonung grins, looking infuriatingly smug.

You set down your beading with slight annoyance now, and you frown at your friend. He’s sat up now, propped back on his hands, head tilted to stare at you with that dangerous gleam that makes you want to question everything, every tone and muscle in his body practically glowing in the afternoon light.

“What book?” you ask wearily, forcing your eyes away from his body.

“You know,” he snickers. “The one you quickly stash away when you see me coming, that you think no one knows about? The little one you hide somewhere in this-”

“If you ever read that Aonung,” you threaten, suddenly on your feet with your face flushed deep deep red. God, what were you thinking trying to keep a diary? You’re an adult! “I swear to bloody mary that I will castrate you and burn everything I chop off.”

Aonung just chuckles, and you scowl.

“If you don’t want me going back to thinking you’re an absolute dick again- leave it.”

And finally he does, reluctantly.

All afternoon you can see him itching to question you more about it, burning with the desire to find out who you had been with, still shocked by the revelation that you fucked around with people in his clan, and he never even knew.

But he knows better than to push you, so he stays quiet, watching you work quietly.

When the sun sets and Kiri drops by to offer you eat with her and Rotxo, you say a quick goodbye to Aonung, who nods and leaves.

“What’s up with him?” Kiri asks, raising her brows at Aonung’s fading back, which is unmistakably tense. “What did you do to him?”

“He just found out about my romping around,” you shrug. “And he-”

“He what?” Kiri gawks, freezing in her steps so you smack into her and instantly fall back onto the ground. “Oh sorry- but YOU TOLD HIM?”

“Yes…?” you say slowly, confused why she’s so shocked. “He’s my friend.”

“So is Lo’ak, so is Neteyam,” Kiri points out. “But you aren’t telling them that you’re going around with-”

“That’s different,” you say quickly. “Lo’ak and Tey are like my brothers, and Aonung… is not.”

“Right,” Kiri says unconvinced.

There’s an awkward moment of silence in which she’s clearly waiting for you to say more.

“He’s infuriating,” you finally burst out.

“Yes he is,” Kiri agrees. She continues in her pointed silence as you move into her marui, until you finally can’t take it anymore.

“Fine!” you snap, face flushed. “He’s absolutely irritating in every way, and now he’s suddenly all caring about what I do in my own time with other guys? WE AREN’T EVEN A THING-”

“Are you sure about that?” Rotxo grins from the other side. “Just think about the way he acts when you’re around.”

“Annoying and cocky?” you huff, but you know what he means.

“Come on,” Kiri sighs, shaking her head at you with affection, “don’t tell me you’re this oblivious all of a sudden. What happened to my friend who used to have half the Omatikaya wrapped around her little finger, who could charm even the coldest of warriors? Where did all your psychicness go?”

“That’s not a word,” you grumble, hiding your unease with semantics.

“Okay enough,” Kiri sighs, pulling you up from where you had just comfortably settled on the floor and dragging you out to the entrance. “No more obliviousness.”

“Where are you taking me?” you moan, lazily allowing her to drag you off through the village, Rotxo trailing contentedly and obediently behind his mate.

“To get you changed,” she says carelessly. “We’re going out.”

Aonung wasn’t exactly sure what he was expecting when he asked you that question. But he sure as fuck wasn’t prepared to hear that his little tawtute was getting her way around the clan.

You were his friend. Once even friend had been a loose term to describe your relationship, but he would be lying if he hadn’t know that from the moment he laid eyes of your small figure – barely even half the height of the Sullys as they landed in Awa’atlu with your curious eyes and strange clothing – that you were his.

But after some time when the two of you had warmed to one another, he had realised that he did not see you in a way that was even remotely platonic.

The reasoning for that was probably that he saw you everywhere; your face, your small hands, your little body.

On nights spent with various other girls, he found his eyes closing and his mind imagining it was you splayed out beneath him, your pretty little face twisted with the lewdest of moans. When, eventually, he gave up on trying to fuck these lustful profanities into other girls, cock in hand in the privacy of sheltered coves or his own marui, he would long for it to be your hand wrapped around his length, to feel your lips brushing over every inch of his body, sinking his fangs into your smooth, soft skin.

He tried to tell himself, all the rest of that afternoon which he spent fuming around his marui before the festivities of that night, that it wasn’t the fact that you were with other guys that was bothering him. You were a free woman, free to do what you liked, free to spend your time on other men.

But on the other hand, the men of his clan were of his clan.

They were Aonung’s people - not just in a metaphorical sense of belonging - they were not as free to do as they liked when Aonung would one day lead them. And they should damn well know better than to touch you.

They had no license to have you, touch you, even look at you.

Had Aonung not made it clear enough - even if you seemed completely oblivious to it - that you were his?

Sure, he made not have had you in that purely carnal aspect that you apparently had shared with worthless spineless skxawngs unfit to be in your very presence, but the way he acted around you, the gifts he brought to you, the way he protected you with all the ferocity boiling within him, even the way his scent lingers on your skin when he can’t be near you (even if your tawtute nose couldn’t smell it) marks you as if not his, then at least definitely untouchable.

So what were these shameless, perverted idiots playing at?

They, more than anyone, should know how Aonung can get when he sets his mind to something. And that one is you, and he’s not about to let anyone else dare lay so much a finger on your smaller body ever again. He’s already cursing himself for not realising all this sooner, letting you waste your time with men could live a thousand lifetimes and never deserve you. Which is why – when he sees you next, across the fire at a party – Aonung doesn’t take any chances.

It's a pretty typical Metkayina gathering, full of young warriors, hunters, village girls and other various clan members. Flasks of unilpay are being passed around and the air is rich with loud laughter, conversation, and other various drunken atrocities. The beach – cool in the clear night breeze – is basked in the balmy, warm glow of a bonfire. Sparks are flying gracefully up; flaming glimmers among the silver stars of the heavens.

“What were you thinking?” he demands in a low voice, striding straight up to Rotxo and grabbing his friend’s arm to face him. “Why is she here?”

“Kiri thought it would be good for her to come out for a bit,” Rotxo shrugs. Aonung scoffs, far too used to his best friend’s continual obedience to whatever Kiri does.

“I thought you were just going to have dinner, have a little chat, you know?” Aonung grumbles, looking away to scan the party, making sure you were far on the other side and alone with Kiri. “But now you bring her here?”

Rotxo settles back, looking slightly amused amidst his dawning understanding, and Aonung’s hand slowly falls from its tight grip around his arm.

“And what is so terrible about her being here?” Rotxo counters. “She’s been hanging around the village for ages, she’s been to these parties before. What’s your problem now?”

Aonung growls low under his breath. Frustration is starting to course through him. Rotxo knows what the answer is – what Aonung’s deal is, why he cares, why his gaze can’t seem to stop drifting towards you, but he’s waiting for the words to be spoken.

Instead, with a small huff of exasperation, Aonung pushes past Rotxo to approach you.

Through that short conversation that seemed an eternity, Aonung had not missed all the glances snuck covertly in your direction, shot from the corner of eyes and over shoulders and between the flickering flames separating you from most of the festivities.

You had changed since the afternoon, Aonung notices.

He didn’t quite understand tawtute customs, particularly your strange clothes that frustratingly covered so much of your body that na’vi clothing would usually be displaying with confidence and adoration, but he had spent enough time with you to know he had never seen you wear something like this.

He would have definitely remembered seeing you like this.

It’s hard to describe when the style is from a completely different species, but the thought that first crosses his mind is black. It was the first thing he notices after all, the black material cloaking over your body, brushing lightly over your soft skin.

You’ve worn things vaguely in this style before (dresh… cress… dress or something) but they had all been long and flowy and beautiful, yes, but this was so much more than that. It was stupid, actually, that only a change of outfit has Aonung’s heart seizing in his chest, throat bobbing and jaw clenched at the sight of you standing there, unilpay in one hand, the other moving to push your hair from your face.

It barely even covers your legs, and your arms and shoulders are left completely bare except for a wispy black strand that winds over your skin to vainly hold it up from your breasts. From Aonung’s view of you, he feels like just watching you is sinful. It’s wrong, to be seeing you like this, to be thinking these thoughts of you, but he can’t pull away from his view.

He had always known tawtute bodies were different to na’vi (all slim and muscular), and sometimes he found himself pleading that the next day your clothing would not be as flowy and coveraging as it always was, but he’d always beat back those sinful desires with the reminder of your positions.

But now, with the smooth skin of your thighs and slim shoulders and the ample curves of your body on full, glorious display, Aonung wonders how he ever managed to go without seeing you like this before.

You are always so small to him, but every curve of your body, in your thighs and hips and breasts and fuck.

Aonung stifles a low groan at all the thoughts flooding his filthy mind, and wrenches his gaze from the glorious glow of your soft skin under the dancing light of the fire.

And then, in several unconscious moments where Aonung has no clue what he’s doing, in several long strides to get him by your side without the pain of seconds apart from you, he’s beside you. You look up at him through your long dark lashes, and he also notices your lips look plumper and shinier than usual; the smooth rosiness gleaming tantalisingly up at him.

Not for the first time, he has to swallow a furious desire to sink his fangs lightly into your silky lips, and he immediately darts his gaze away – the method he always uses in vain attempts to stem those filthy, forbidden, longings.

“What are you doing here?” Aonung asks coldly, staring down at you from his metre above.

“Same as you,” you shrug. “I’m here to have fun.”

Aonung is not happy to hear that.

His glare moves straight to Kiri, who’s watching his displeased reaction with mingled interest and amusement. Obviously, her and Rotxo have some stupid ulterior motive or plot or something, but he won’t have any of it, not if it risks other guys getting anywhere near you.

But he can’t think of anything to do. If he tells you to leave then you’d doubtless shout at him and be in that pouty, pissed mood that you sometimes get into. And he can’t just flat out voice the truth, not with this many people standing around, not during one of the most unromantic settings he could imagine with tipsy warriors and a blazing fire.

From the moment he stood beside you though, the gazes moved away. Aonung’s pleased to find less and less eyes roving quickly over you, and the ones that do are quickly averted when he scowls at them.

Just as he thinks maybe it’ll be over – that no one will bother you anymore – people start to dance. Aonung had been friends with you long enough to know this was your favourite part of any festivity. You loved to watch the sway and undulation and grace of the na’vi in their movements, the beautiful delicacy of the clothing gleaming under the stars and tails coiling and moving in timely leisure.

And he also knows it will surely be a matter of time before you want to join in or worse, someone else asks you to dance.

So he sits gracelessly down next to you, on that log you’ve perched yourself on top of. The weight of his body suddenly seated beside you makes your little body jolt a little, but you grit your teeth with a small eye roll and discreetly dig your fingers into the bark. He spreads out a little, ensuring there is no more room on the log, with you seated between Kiri’s slim, tall figure and his own broad, muscular body.

Kiri certainly doesn’t miss this gesture (or the meaning behind it), but she hides her small smile with a sip from her coconut. You, on the other hand, are so entranced by the dancing that you don’t notice when Aonung spreads his legs a little wider so his muscular thigh is brushing against your small, soft, slightly squishy one he wordlessly loves so much.

You continue to watch with wordless awe, and Aonung sits, contented with the fact that no one has dared approach yet.

Yet when some stupid warrior – Tsu’kae, Aonung thinks his name is – blantantly turns to stare at you with shameless, disgustingly lustful interest, Aonung decides he has to step it up. Has he not made it fucking clear enough that you are his?

Slowly so he doesn’t attract too much of your attention, Aonung leans back and slips his arm to rest on his hands on either side of his body. This way, you’re closed in between his firmly planted hand and his own body, without any space on the log for anyone else.

When you finally notice Aonung’s stretched out into your space, you grumble faintly about his stupid giant body and his lack of care for personal space, but you settle back to rest your head lightly against his arm behind you.

Aonung tries not to tense, completely unprepared for your comfort against him, thrown of by your soft hair cascading and your face resting gently against his arm, lips inches away from brushing his skin yet your breath ghosts warm and present against him.

“It’s beautiful,” you whisper faintly to him, and he tries to ignore the fact that each word is whispered nearly right against his veins, as though your voice is coursing straight to his heart. You shiver lightly beside him.

“Yeah,” he replies in a low voice, throat feeling quite tight and strained; it isn’t exactly easy to scare off any other guys when he’s already about to explode just having you this close.

He feels slightly stupid; you’re watching the dances with awe and appreciation and a distant melancholy, desirous longing, and of course, he’s watching you. With equal ferocity, just excelling past with unbearable, flaming tendrils of frustrated craving snaking through his veins, seizing his heart and freezing his mind.

It’s only when he finally manages to tear his gaze away from you, with the same effort it takes to fell an akula, that he notices Tsu’kae is no longer on the sand amidst the dancing Metkayina. In fact, he’s on the outskirts, conspicuously sliding closer with slimy, transparent steps to get closer to you.

With a fierce stab of selfishness for what is his, Aonung finds his arm – the one caging you beside him – sweeping closer and bringing you with it, so you’re gently slid along the long till you’re pressed against his solid side.

You squint up at him with slight suspicious confusion, and he almost misses that little tense, gleam in your eyes. He can also hear the gentle, warm beats of your heart pick up, but he puts all the possibilities of reasonings of that from his mind to watch with cold irritation as Tsu’kae finally makes his way besides you.

“May I sit here?” he asks, glancing dubiously at the log.

Aonung, with a sudden desire to kick himself for his carelessness, realises to late that in pulling you towards him, he mistakenly left space on the log for someone to sit.

Unfortunately, Tsu’kae misses Aonung’s glower, which was a clear dismissal of the inferior warrior. You, finally, seemed to have some tiny inkling of the situation, because you glance briefly up at Aonung as though asking if Tsu’kae can join you.

The clear answer was no, but Aonung knew you well enough to guess that your unfortunate habit of masterfully ignoring unspoken orders may be about to be practised. Instead, he settled himself on a much more enjoyable option.

“Sure,” he rumbles to Tsu’kae, who looks a little startled, as though he wasn’t expecting to get personally addressed by Aonung.

Before he can sit beside you on the log, Aonung’s reaching over to lift you up and settle you comfortably in his lap. You let out a small squeak of surprise to find yourself suddenly lifted as though you weigh nothing. Tsu’kae watches with mingled fascination and strange terror at Aonung’s plain message – you cannot have her.

Yet maybe Aonung didn’t completely think this plan through.

You’d never sat on his lap before, and although he’d often thought about it, how your squishy thighs and curvy hips would feel resting softly over his own would feel, how light and small and delicate you’d be against him, this was completely different.

He can feel everything about you. Your thighs – almost completely bare as the fabric of your clothing hitches all the way up to your ass – are pressed against his own, your skin all warm and soft and so velvety, deliciously smooth. Your body is still slightly tense despite your feigned nonchalance, and he can feel the tightness of your body resting on his.

And he can smell you. It’s warm, just a comforting, familiar scent that he spends all day breathing in, memorising and filing away into the back of his mind where, in the shelter and privacy of his own marui in those helplessly longing night, he can build up that image of you in your imagined lewd actions for him and to him. There’s something over the top of it, something new and flowery you must have just applied for tonight.

He has to fight a physical urge to just bury his entire face in the warm of your neck – your soft hair falling around him – and simply scenting you to the point everything else just completely ceases to exist and with his eyes closed and heart thumping, all that surrounds him is you and your warmth.

It takes Aonung a moment to remind himself where he is, surrounded by everyone, sitting beside the still-gaping Tsu’kae. To remind himself that it isn’t just the two of you alone, and especially that you are only friends, and it would probably be a little surprising if he finally just succumbed to all the filthy desires that suddenly seem a thousand times stronger than usual.

You’re finally relaxing on his lap, muscles untensing and breath coming in soft nature. The only downside is that when you loosen a little and stop sitting like there’s a splint to your spine, the soft curve of your ass, barely even covered by your clothing now, settles inches away from his crotch.

Aonung has a small surge of panic when his blood rushes south, but he just masks his soft groan as a hum of appreciation for the dance.

Eywa, he really didn’t think this through.

Never once had he taken the warnings of his mother, father, sister and basically the whole rest of the clan to heart – never once accepted that one day, his impulsivity might have consequences.

But the thought of what you might do when you realise how hard your so called “friend” is by you simply sitting on his lap is too much to bear.

What if you think he’s some crazy sort of desperate perv? What if you never see him the same, and everything is ruined and awkward and dangerous between the two of you? What if you tell Neteyam and Lo’ak and they beat the absolute shit out of him for acting like this?

Fuck.

From the corner of his eye – Aonung’s too scared to move enough to properly turn his head – he can see Tsu’kae all awkward and stupid and helpless. It should now be quite obvious his position in this situation; that he has no place here, anywhere near you.

Now getting over your surprise of being suddenly nestled in your friend’s lap, you’re starting to settle back. You’ve rested yourself against his chest, and he grits his teeth, jaw clenched and fangs sinking lightly into his lip.

Your hair is pillowing your head lightly where it rests, barely even at his chest and right below the fang of his necklace. Your back – nearly completely bare with the low cut of your soft clothing – is settled firmly against his abs, and the warmth your skin on his is oddly comforting, mollifying his slight ferocity.

The soft, sweet scent of you is closer now, more obvious below whatever that other flowery smell you’re wearing is, and Aonung tries his best to keep his breathing even so you won’t notice how he’s breathing in your scent.

But trying to act like just the proximity and scent and feel of you isn’t getting him hard is more difficult than it looks, and Aonung strains his brain to think of ways to delay the inevitable of when you finally notice the ever-growing tent in his tewng.

“Would you like anything to drink?” Tsu’kae offers after a moment of tense silence that you don’t seem to notice. Aonung wonders faintly if your human senses just don’t pick up this sort of tension, or maybe you really are just infuriatingly, endearingly oblivious.

“Yes, thank you,” you say, shifting to give him a little smile.

A fierce stab of strange jealously blossoms like fire inside of Aonung, suddenly scorching his veins and he has a sudden desire to smack that returned, almost-shy-to-hide-his horniness smirk off Tsu’kae’s face. He probably would have, had you not leaned back against him and shimmied your soft ass to lay right over the ridge of his hardened cock.

Aonung gives a sudden jolt, nearly tossing you unceremoniously from his lap and even more mortifyingly - accidentally grinding his tented, straining tewng against the curve of your ass.

There’s a moment in which Aonung thinks you are about to scream at him, turn and curse him out for his lewd state. He can hear your heart pick up suddenly, see the tips of your small, roundish ears go slightly pink, watch a flush creep along back of your neck.

“Do you mind?” you grumble. “If you’re going to try cockblocking me, at least don’t nearly throw me around. I was perfectly comfortable, you bumbling skxawng.”

Aonung blinks in sluggish silence, your words sinking into his brain till he realises with an overwhelming surge or relief that you didn’t notice. Eywa, he’s never been so thankful of the simplicity of human anatomical function.

“I’m not trying to cock block you,” he says instead, and you scoff.

“Please,” you say stoutly, and Aonung can just imagine you rolling your eyes in that amused way you always do. “You really have no idea how conspicuous you are, dumbass.”

“I am not,” Aonung says with a frown, ignoring the human name he doesn’t understand. “Besides, you could do much better than the likes of Tsu’kae.”

“Really?” you say coolly. Aonung suddenly can’t picture what your face looks like; your tone is completely unreadable as though you’re trying to make it even, hiding whatever you’re actually thinking right now. “And what is so terrible about Tsu’kae?”

“He’s dim-witted,” Aonung points out. “Slow, unreliable, terrible at spear throwing-”

“Ah yes,” you interrupt, “everything I look for in a hook-up; his spear throwing abilities.”

“And he’s obviously just horny,” Aonung adds, ignoring the now painful tent in his tewng and the heavy irony of his words. He looks pointedly across the party, and you follow his gaze to see Tsu’kae standing with his friends, drinking heavily from a flask, getting a few hyping smacks from his mates as they no doubt discuss you.

“So someone would just have to be horny to fuck me?” you huff, turning your neck to glare at him. Aonung bites down a small groan as you accidentally shift on his crotch. “There’s nothing else endearing about me, it would just depend on their arousal?”

“No,” Aonung says quickly, but your scowl is deepening the longer it takes for him to find the right words – ones that don’t give away his own… excitement. “There is nothing wrong with you-”

“Who said anything about there being something wrong with me?” you snap, brows furrowing and face now torn between fury and something he can’t quite make out.

“No one- nothing- what?” Aonung stammers, confused at why you’re suddenly so upset. “You are just far too good for Tsu’kae. He does not deserve your time.”

“Then who does?” you ask sullenly, slightly folding into yourself, yet you still don’t pull away from your seat in his lap. “What about Sokzu-”

“He is arrogant,” Aonung shoots the idea down.

“What about Ta’ru-”

“Incompetent,” Aonung interrupts again.

“Or Kayo-”

“Lazy-”

“Zäki?”

“Seriously,” Aonung says firmly, now frowning too. “Do you seriously think any of these skxawngs are worth your interest?”

Your mouth twitches at his words, though he still has no fucking clue what you’re thinking.

“What are you trying to say, Aonung?” you ask.

“I don’t know,” he says truthfully.

You’re still looking up at him, eyes large and shimmering in the light from the fire and scattered stars. Aonung swallows, gaze darting quickly down to your glossy lips before fixing back on your face. He can’t look away.

“I brought you unilpay,” a voice interrupts.

You both turn to see Tsu’kae standing there, looking a little rumpled and disorientated. It couldn’t have been more obvious that he’s drunk now, and Aonung doesn’t fail to notice your nose scrunch for an instant before you smooth out your face and take it with a small smile and a thank you.

Completely oblivious and obviously stupid, Tsu’kae continues to stand awkwardly, before he seems to gather enough courage to ask, “Would you like to come for a walk, tawtute?”

Instantly, Aonung’s blood has turned to ice. He doesn’t even look at you before snapping, “She’s good.”

Tsu’kae’s face falls in a small frown, and he, – stupidly – drops his own flask on the sand to clench his fists.

“I wasn’t talking to you,” he slurs. “I was talking to her.”

“And I gave you an answer,” Aonung counters, eyes narrowing at the disrespect this meager warrior is displaying. “She’s not going to go anywhere with you.”

Again, Tsu’kae fails to pull himself together and show the proper respect. He steps closer, face pulled into a little frown as he raises his brows at Aonung.

“And what are you going to do to stop her?” he leers. “If she wants to come?”

“Do you want to go?” Aonung asks you, a small furrow between his brows as he looks down at you. You’re all wide-eyed and wordless, eyes darting between Aonung and Tsu’kae who scowls.

“Of course she want-”

“I wasn’t talking to you,” Aonung hisses through gritted teeth. “Do you want to go with him?”

Your lips part. You don’t seem to have any answer to give, and you just stare blankly at Aonung, still seated in his lap. Finally, Tsu’kae’s drunken patience seems to have run out, and his hand closes around your tiny wrist.

“Come on taw-”

You’re no sooner pulled helplessly off Aonung than he’s on his feet, then finding his fist sinking satisfyingly into Tsu’ake’s jaw. The stupid warrior lets out a surprised grunt and stumbles back, dragging your little figure with his weight.

“Let her go,” Aonung says coolly, reaching to grab your other arm.

It’s a little awkward, and you’re wincing slightly at the grip of each arm clutched by the two men. People are starting to turn and stare now, and you’re struggling to free yourself.

“Now,” Aonung adds.

Reluctantly, Tsu’kae lets go of your wrist with a frustrated huff, and you flinch at the angry red mark on your skin from where he touched you. Aonung’s heart thuds irately at the mark, and he gently pushes you behind him.

“Touch her again,” Aonung hisses, stepping closer to hide your nervously watching figure, “and I kill you.”

Tsu’kae just laughs, before making to shove Aonung backwards. Unfortunately for him, he doesn’t shift in the slightest, and Tsu’kae stumbles into Aonung, who grips the skxawng by the back of his neck. Instantly, Tsu’kae winces away, averting his eyes and vainly trying to get away.

“Pathetic,” Aonung says coolly, pulling him up to study him further. “You actually thought you’d get to have time with her.”

Tsu’kae lets out a small hiss and brings his fist up to smack into Aonung’s cheek. It isn’t particularly painful, but a blow is a blow and Aonung tosses him to the side. He slams unceremoniously into the sand, where he’s met with small stifled laughter and disapproving glances. You’re still gaping at Aonung, who gently kneels beside you.

“Are you alright?” he asks softly. You nod, eyes raking over his face before your fingertips reach out to trace lightly over the mark of Tsu’kae’s laughable punch. “Come on, I’ll walk you home.”

No one else makes a noise, but Aonung can feel all eyes on your retreating backs as he leads you away. He can still feel the burn of disbelieving attention on him as the party fades away and the woven walkways of the village come into view. More importantly, he can feel eyes on you, and, desperate to make sure you don’t feel uneasy, he places a wide hand on your back to lightly steer you in front, out of the way of prying eyes.

When he drops you off at your marui, it’s with a strange ache in his chest.

You look tired and the gloss of your lips is nearly completely gone now. You smile up at him at the entrance, but when he turns to leave, he can sense your drunkenness. Not for the first time, he curses how strong na’vi alcohol is to you, and before you know what’s happening, he’s turned back and steered you all the way into your marui and laid you down on the bed.

“Here,” he instructs, handing you a small flask of water. “Drink this before you sleep.”

“You’re looking after me,” you smile stupidly. Aonung wants to kick himself for not noticing how tipsy you had been in the distraction of everything, but he just rolls his eyes at your dopiness.

“Well, I didn’t go to all this trouble tonight to just leave you like this,” Aonung says wearily, reaching for one of those black stretchy things you use for your hair and clumsily tying it back for you. “Eywa, you’re just going to have to sleep in this.”

“I wanted to look pretty,” you mumble softly, a small furrow forming between your brows.

Aonung could have sworn those words could have punched the breath out of him – and he fights down a desire to tell you just how pretty you look, how you always look.

Instead, he just gently pats your forehead and whispers, “Just get some sleep.”

You nod obediently, never taking your eyes off his face as he fusses about, straightening your bed, making sure there’s water beside you. But when he turns to leave, you softly whisper out his name.

Aonung turns back. You don’t say anything, just continuing to stare at him. It’s a tense moment of silence, until you finally sigh.

“Goodnight,” you whisper. Aonung doesn’t reply, just giving you a soft smile.

It’s not until Aonung’s back in his own marui, flopping down onto his bed with a groan, does he remember exactly what had happened.

It’s filthy and humiliating, that the second he remembers the moment – the scent and the proximity and the feel of you seated in his lap – his tewng is growing stranglingly tight once more.

This has happens much more than Aonung would ever readily admit. He tries his utmost to not even think about it. But once more, he can’t help but palm himself lightly through the thin fabric of his tewng that has put up quite the struggle tonight.

Eywa, just the thought of you at that party – hair flowing over your bare back, the glow of your skin and the softness of your thighs, breathing in your warm sweet scent, the same one that’s now slowly fading from his skin that you had been so gloriously pressed against.

Fuck.

Really, who is this hurting? he justifies himself as he impatiently tears away his tewng. It’s just to take the edge off. It doesn’t mean anything.

Filthy. Lewd. Wrong.

But he can’t bring himself to process all the copious issues of what he’s doing when everything about you is fresh in his mind, stuck in his mind, and using that young horny man logic that dubiously validates each of these moments, he lets himself sink into those coarse imaginations.

There’s a million of them, layered on top of one another, flooding and racing through his mind.

Ones in which you’re squirming under him, ones in which your soft thighs are nestled tightly around his face. Ones with your head thrown back as you top him, ones where you’re arched against the floor, tears streaming down your sweet, pretty little face as his hips rut into your own.

When he accidentally tightens his grip around himself, he imagines just how much better your hand would feel around his length, all small and silky and smooth.

There’s something just so filthy about this.

You are his little friend - his - but what would you be thinking if you knew he did this?

Even so, he can’t help remembering just how right it felt to have the soft curve of your ass nestled right up against his crotch, and then he’s speeding up with helpless, lewd desperation.

Your lips, all glossed and plump and parted to glorious perfection swim in his mind as he fails to stifle a sharp groan. The thought of them brushing over his own, over his chest, wrapping light and tight and warm around his length does him in with searing speed.

His release, spilling hopelessly and copiously into his tightened fist, blazes with the hot shame of it.

Aonung has felt this familiar embarrassed self-disgust before, quite a familiar after effect of these nights filled with thoughts of you, but this just feels so much… more.

Your words come to cross his mind again; “Why would people be attracted to me?”

The real answer is how could anyone fucking not be.

But that wasn’t entirely satisfactory, because Aonung was fully prepared to murder anyone who had the foolish balls to pursue you.

His little friend.

That same blazing shame doesn’t go away after a restless nights’ sleep.

Aonung wakes up, amidst the unwelcome sunlight filtering into his marui, to find that he can’t bring himself to face you quite yet. Of course, it’s just his luck that when he drags himself up to deal with the impatient hammering at his entrance, he’s met with you.

“Morning!” you say chirpily, which tells him clearly that you’ve mostly forgotten the events of the night before. “Tsireya’s forcing me to come to the beach, and I refuse to go without you.”

Aonung’s about to make some lame excuse, based loosely of his clan duties and his tiredness, but then your words process.

“You will go swimming?” he asks dubiously.

“Yup.”

And that does it.

Aonung has been trying to get you to come swimming for months, and he has to fight that little twinge of jealousy that it’s Tsireya that finally managed to convince you. However, when you bound away to where Tsireya, Rotxo, and the Sullys are waiting, Aonung finds himself following thoughtlessly.

You’re chatting animatedly with Kiri and Neteyam, and Aonung allows his eyes to quickly wander over you as he trails behind the group.

You’ve changed out of your short black clothing, though Aonung is delighted to find that once again, you aren’t hiding as much of your body as you typically do.

The little shorts you are wearing are just that. Little. They barely stretch over the curve of your ass, and ties of bikini bottoms are poking up out of the low waist. The top you’re wearing – a simple white tank – is also perfectly tight enough that Aonung can see the faint outline of a triangular bikini top.

The part that nearly makes his knees buckle is the slim line of your stomach visible between your top and shorts, where he can see the perfect soft squidge of your figure, and the little jiggle of your thighs with every step you take.

When you make it down to the beach, sun warming your skin and the soft ocean lapping against the sand surrounding you, you manage to surprise him further.

You don’t follow the others immediately into the water. You unbutton those little shorts and shimmy them down your body, before reaching up to tug off your top.

Oh.

Fuck.

You really had been right; Aonung had no idea how conspicuous he was.

Suddenly, after all that training of mastering himself, he simply cannot wrench or drag or tear his gaze away from you. Instead, he stands awkward and gaping like an idiot at the sight of you almost completely bare.

After so long of needing his imagination to picture you like this, seeing your body this gloriously bare could damn well killed him. In fact, Aonung’s sure even with your tawtute senses, you would surely know his heart just stopped, his blood heating, his brain stalling.

But you just shoot him a cheeky, knowing grin before innocently asking, “What?”

“Nothing,” Aonung clears his throat, painfully aware of his flushed face. “Should- uh – should we get in?”

You just roll your eyes at him and race in. He doesn’t watch the sway of your body as you slowly go into the water. He doesn’t need to resist the urge to just pick you up again, maybe even help you with your breathing.

He supposes he should be impressed with your swimming, but your size and ill adjustment to swimming in the ocean – especially beside na’vi – slows you down, and eventually he ends up just offering you a hand. He highly suspects that you’re not even swimming, just allowing yourself to be pulled leisurely through the water, but he isn’t going to complain.

You have this adorable little look of awe on your face, as though you thoroughly regret only now coming swimming after months of being begged to. Aonung faintly wonders why you never did come.

After a while, you all swim back to the shallows. The Sully’s, Rotxo and Tsireya are all running and splashing around, and Aonung notices you struggling to tread water (he notices with a small smile that you can’t reach the bottom).

“You good there?” he grins, wading over to you.

“Yep,” you huff, kicking up to keep your head at least above the water.

“Need a hand?” he snickers. “You look like you’re having a little trouble. Do yo-”

“Just get over here skxawng,” you grumble.

The moment he’s in arms reach, you’ve wrapped your arms around his neck and straddled your legs tight around him. You huff a little for breath, resting your face in the crook of his neck, warm breath fanning across his sensitive skin.

Tsireya looks over, and she shoots her brother a small, knowing smile. Aonung just rolls his eyes back, but he finds himself shifting you around his body so he can somewhat cradle you – your body wrapped around his side, supported lightly by one of his arms.

“You know,” Kiri says with delicate mirth, “we should be heading back soon, right Ro?”

“Yeah,” Rotxo agrees, looking equally happy at the sight of you (even if unintentionally so) cuddled against Aonung. “You coming Neteyam?”

“We’ll come too,” Tsireya grins, tugging Lo’ak along behind her.

You watch them all go, still slightly breathless. Aonung has a small suspicion you know exactly why they’re leaving, but you make no effort to shift away from him, and you wave them off.

Tsireya has to give Lo’ak and extra hard tug to pull him away. The Sully boys’ brotherly protection has always been a reason Aonung kept the truth away from you, but he thinks at this point he really just is completely conspicuous.

“Are you alright?” Aonung asks, pulling back slightly to push your head from your face.

And suddenly, he notices something.

There’s none of that fierce, bantery spark that blazes between your eyes. Instead, you’re just staring at him with complete and utter… something.

Aonung has never wanted more that you had a tail and na’vi ears so he can better gage your thoughts, but you’re just completely unreadable.

Your eyes are raking over his face; he can feel their trail burning into his skin as though you were physically touching him. You’re inches away.

He clears his throat.

No no no.

Eventually, you tread out of the water to stretch in the soft sand cast into relieving shade, beneath the shelter of the tropical canopy. Aonung lies down beside you, throat feeling strangely tight.

There is something different. Something off.

And there’s a sinking feeling that tells him things just won’t go back to normal. Which is why he decides he needs to settle this out.

“I’m sorry about last night,” he says quietly, staring up at the canopy above.

It’s green.

You give a little hum of acknowledgement.

“What for?” you reply quietly.

“For causing a little scene,” Aonung says quietly.

He counts seventeen little pink flowers in the tree above.

“Right.”

“And cutting you off,” he adds in a mumble.

He thinks there might be several birds hiding between the spindly, delicate fronds.

You don’t reply. He still doesn’t risk a glance at you.

“And for upsetting you.”

There’s another moment of silence. Aonung swears you must be able to hear his heartbeat. You exhale slowly.

“I’m not upset,” you say quietly.

Aonung turns to look at you. You’re also looking up at the canopy, wet hair spilling over the sand, body glittering with the droplets of water still shining on your skin. You swallow.

“You aren’t?” he asks, trying not to sound too relieved. You shake your head slightly, still not turning to meet his gaze.

“Nope,” you sigh, wearily popping the p. “It’s just- um… why did you do it?”

“Do what.”

“The whole thing,” you say, gesturing in front of you. “Of protecting me and making sure I didn’t make a mistake. Plus the… the um…”

Aonung stares in disbelief. He’s never seen you go this long without loudly and shamelessly voicing your opinions. The struggle to get out a single sentence is really quite unnerving for him.

“The whole kill him if he touches me thing,” you blurt in a quick breath, face flushed and eyes refusing to meet his.

It’s Aonung’s turn to blink. He does so in owlish silence, watching the light filtering contentedly through the canopy above while his mind works furiously to find a legitimate answer to your question.

“You are small,” Aonung says finally, carefully tiptoeing around the truth, but really, any more time to think is quite unacceptable given the length of his ponderous silence. “And delicate and sweet. I do not wish anyone-”

“I am not weak,” you interrupt, a small frown on your sweet little face. “I don’t need you to protect me.”

He swallows heavily. Those words feel suddenly painful in his chest.

That’s who he was – he protected you, even if you didn’t know it yet. He was the one that stood by you, stood over you, and that warmth and shade he cast over you meant so much more than you thought.

Eywa, how well he could protect you if you let him.

You must have noticed how those words hit him – how his ears drooped and tail swept dejectedly through the sand.

“Aonung?” you say quietly, propping yourself up on one arm and staring at him. “Is there something bothering you?”

“No,” he says, far too fast to be believable. Your mouth twitches in a wry smile, and you scoot closer.

“You always were a terrible liar,” you whisper. At Aonung’s bitter little huff, your smile widens slightly, before fading entirely. He wants to do anything to bring it back. “At least - you could never convince me.”

“Fine,” Aonung mumbles, resigning himself to the fact that there’s no going back.

He knows you know something’s wrong, and he can tell that this friendship is already crumbling away into something else – something unintelligible and unfathomable to him.

“They are not fit for you, tsawksyul.”

You flinch back, and Aonung wonders faintly if it’s because of the name, or his words, or the harsh desperation with which he spoke them, and he reaches slowly for you. You lean back from him, face twisted with confused hurt.

“Then who is?” you say dully.

“Not anyone here,” Aonung tells you.

Once again, he has no idea how to gage your feelings. It’s strange really, that he’s gone from how lustful and filthy he was last night to how just overwhelmingly… fluffy he feels right now.

But apparently you aren’t finding his words how he intended them, because your face is twisting in a very obvious scowl.

“So… I don’t get anyone,” you say.

Aonung isn’t stupid, he sees the way your eyes are narrowing to indicate the very clear correct answer to your trembly question, but then again, he is stupid when it comes to you.

“You don’t need anyone.”

Instantly he knows that was the wrong thing to say. Your chest seems to swell and your face flushes as you sit upright and glare at him.

“Right,” you snap.

“Have I upset you?” Aonung asks slowly, wondering what he did when his brain feels as though it’s made of jelly.

“Nice observation sherlock,” you huff. “You’d want me to end up all sad and alone with no one to love me, just so I don’t fuck some of your clan mates? What, are you jealous or something? Do you think that you’d be that much better?”

No sooner are the words from your mouth then Aonung’s body betrays him – reacting before his mind can process. But the way he flinches back and flushes makes you freeze, and your eyes widen.

“Well…” he stammers, trying to dig himself out of this stupid hole he got into. “Yes?”

“And why is that,” you huff, standing up on your little legs, barely at his height and fist balled with rage. “You really think you’re that much better than everyone else? I thought you got over your cocky entitlement phase but now here you are, desperate to show that you’re the biggest, hottest thing in the clan.”

Aonung’s brain is too muddled to think. This is all going so, so wrong.

“No!” he says quickly, so desperate to try and speak properly that his voice comes out as something of a shout. You look shocked for a moment, flinched back from him, and he instantly reaches towards you. “I’m sorry-”

“You know,” you say stiffly, stepping out of his reach, “I thought you weren’t like this anymore. God, I wasted so much time, and you only ever started noticing me in this way when you found out I – as an adult woman by the way – was not some little … celibate fucking nun!”

“In what way?” Aonung asks, confused.

You let out a noise somewhere between a sob and a furious growl, then let out an unnerving laugh.

“Are you fucking serious?” you snap. “You’re the most self-centered person I’ve ever met! I thought we grew up, that not everything would be a competition and we could have a mature friendship if we could never be… UGH! But you are genuinely the most infuriating, entitled, interfering, emulous ass I’ve ever had the misfortune to befriend! I mean what is wrong with me?”

“Nothing is wrong with you,” Aonung says, frowning.

“Well there obviously fucking is if I love you!”

You freeze. So does he.

Your words – irrevocable, irreversible and so gleamingly inescapable hang in the still, tense air.

The beach is completely empty albeit the faintly lapping waves and drifting shade of the trees, and of course those words. The ones that change everything, break everything, ruin the friendship you have spent years building.

Aonung just sits in dumbfounded, perplexed silence. Breath after breath. He seems to have forgotten how to breathe, and in the strange, almost reminiscently ironic moments he takes to try and figure it out, you’ve turned faintly green, flushed deeper than the flowers above you, then paled in blunt mortification.

“Oh god,” you whisper, covering your face when your brain kicks in and you remember to move. Aonung still hasn’t said anything, and even though he can see that’s breaking you, he just isn’t able to speak. “Please… say something skxawng.”

Silence.

“Oh god,” you say again, shaking your head, lip trembling slight. “Fuck, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything- I’m just going to-”

“I love you too.”

“Please just forget- wait what?”

There’s a moment when everything stops. The sea seems to stall, the wind dies and the canopy stiffens. Aonung notes that your hair is still being blown gently in some absent breeze.

Your eyes look slightly red and slightly wet and your lips are parted in surprise. The longer Aonung stares at you, the deeper that little frowning furrow between your brows grows. He’s vaguely aware of his heart thumping – so loud and fast that under different circumstances, he may have even been worried about it – but he can’t summon any thoughts into his brain.

“Since when,” you whisper. Your voice is nothing more than a trembly breath, and if Aonung hadn’t been na’vi, if he hadn’t been watching you so intently to gage that your lips moved, he would have still been trapped in this tense silence.

“Since fucking forever,” he groans, rubbing his face tiredly. “I thought you were supposed to be all smart and all-knowing when it came to romance and crushes and shit.”

“Just because you are completely and irrevocably stupidly oblivious,” you scoff, “does not make me a genius in comparison.”

“So we’re just two little lovestruck idiots, then?”

“Guess so.”

There’s a moment of silence before it really does process to both of you. Aonung’s head snaps up, eyes wide and lips stretched with a fat dopey smile only to find yourself already launching yourself into his arms.

When he catches you, he’s sure he’ll never be able to let you go. Your hands reach to cup his face, which seems comically large in comparison, smiling in delighted disbelief before you let out a small, wet laugh.

“God, I love you.”

Aonung doesn’t even respond- barely even processes your words beyond a surge of overwhelming ecstacy, and presses his lips to yours.

Fuck.

Eywa.

How had he managed to go this long without this.

All those moments staring at your lips meant nothing when compared to the actual feel of them; soft, warm, tentative at first as you brush them over his own. There’s something so sweet about you, and he has a blissful idea that you’re melting on his tongue.

Aonung can feel those last tenterhooks of your friendship splintering and tearing apart at the feeling of your lips against his.

Well, good riddance.

Aonung’s hand finds its way into your hair, hand resting steadily on the back of your neck. Your mouth is small, cushioned by those soft warm lips, but you open your mouth wide and eager, hungry and tentative and exploratory and everything in between.

You’re making all these little huffy noises, as though desperate for breath but unable to pull away from him. When your smooth, small body shifts to press itself closer against him, Aonung groans unrestrainedly into your mouth, and he swears to Eywa you could kill him.

When he’d imagined this – during those late nights hidden deep in his marui fisting his cock – you’d been different. Sometimes you’d be sweet and nervous and tentative, at others you’d be desperate and ravenous and impatient.

Nothing could have prepared you for this, not even his copious, overwhelming dreams and hopes and desires for this. Nothing could have readied him to have you here and now, lips against his, tongue pressed against his, bodies tight against one another.

He’s so hard he thinks he might actually die, but he’ll be damned to pull away to deal with his own needs. All that matters now, all that exists right now is you, your scent, your lips, your body all beside him and around him and so hungry for him.

When he’s worried you’re quite about to suffocate, he slides his lips sideways to press hungry kisses along your jaw. You let out small, breathy gasps, fingers tangling in his hair, arms clinging tight around his neck to steady yourself as his lips find their way steadily back to you.

As your lips smash onto his once more, Aonung marvels at the way his hand – splayed out to hold you up – spans across the whole damn length of your back. When his fingers lightly trace their way up your spine, you shiver against him, soothed by his hand carding gently through your hair.

Your tongue licks lightly over his fangs, and Aonung, surprised, jerks back at the strange sensitivity. That felt different, and he wonders faintly how in all the meaningless, irrelevant kisses he’s shared in his lifetime, that’s never happened before, or at least made him feel so sensitive.

“You good?” you smile against his lips, but he suspects it’s more of a smirk. You know exactly what you’re doing.

“Yeah,” he says, feeling breathless and completely inflamed. “Yeah… I’m good.”

Your tongue teases over his fangs again. When he moans shamelessly back into your mouth, you giggle and cuddle him closer. Aonung laughs with you. It’s an almost painful relief from the overwhelming heat of the moment.

You’re still breathing heavily with that wide smile on your face when you stop giggling, but when Aonung meets your gaze, he can’t read your expression. He thinks for a moment you’re going to push him back, tell him to slow down, but then your gaze darkens ominously.

“Let’s get back,” you breathe exultantly.

“Why-”

“Because I don’t really feel like fucking for the first time with you on the sand of an exposed beach,” you grin.

“So we’re going to fuck?” Aonung asks hopefully, the corners of his mouth curling with delight.

“Up to you,” you grin, standing up and backing away from him in the direction of the village. “I mean, you could stay here in the shade, listen to the pretty birdies and watch the ocean-”

You cut off with a delighted giggle as Aonung sweeps you up as though you weigh nothing and tears off towards the village.

He ignores the stares of the clan as he storms his way towards his marui, though he must admit you must be quite the sight – you nearly completely bare in your little swimsuit, bundled up in his arms and shifty smiles stretched wide across your faces.

He practically crashes into his marui, not bothering to slip his way through the woven entrance but bursting through it and kicking it carelessly back into place with his tail.

You laugh – sweet and clear and loud – as he tosses you against the bed and crawls over to you. There’s barely a thought in his brain than you, with your breathy little gasps and hands raking through his hair and soft, warm lips.

When he buries his nose in the soft, exposed crook between your shoulder and neck, you jolt in surprise. You smell so sweet. Aonung wonders vaguely if he’s in heaven, surrounded by your arms encircling him, buried and deluged in your warm, sweet scent.

He’s extremely pleased to note you’re already starting to smell like him – a faint trace of sea breeze and amber noticeable on you, but he isn’t about to stop until you smell of nothing but him, until every person in this clan can see his plain mark on you, know that you are his and his alone.

And then he can’t stop himself from sinking his fangs lightly into that warm exposed skin.

You instantly squirm underneath him, arching up against him with a surprised gasp. You are just so soft, and his teeth sink with impossible ease into your neck. No sooner has he done it then he’s lightly licking the small pearls of blood away and pressing a light kiss for good measure.

And then he does it again. And again – adorning you with a necklace of gleaming ruby bites, better than any jewellery he would make, prettier than any pearls or shells he would collect. He doesn’t know if you understand them, that claim and those marks, but he’ll make sure you know that you’re his.

“Aonung,” you gasp, gripping at his face to tug him away and force him to look at you. “Aonung!”

“Yes?” he asks, slightly irritated you stopped him from continuing.

“I want you to fuck me,” you breathe, pupils blown wide, chest heaving with the desperation of your gasps, face flushed in glorious exultation.

“Not yet tsawksyul,” he says. A small glare is forming in your eyes, and he nearly laughs at your ravenous impatience. “You are not ready yet.”

“Yes I am,” you snap, scowling at him. “I’ve taken na’vi men before, just-”

“Patience,” he whispers, hand reaching up to rest against your face, thumb brushing over your frowning lips.

You look like you’re about to shout at him when Aonung’s hand leaves your face and finds it’s way to the little knots on the side of your bikini.

“Is this alright?” he asks gently. No sooner are the words out of his mouth then you’re nodding with irritated fervour, and he pulls lightly on the strings and slides away your bottoms.

Fuck.

His eyes are glued to that paradise between your legs, the one he’s been dreaming about for months. Vaguely and almost unconsciously, he decides when he dies, he’d prefer this heaven over anything else. His eyes quickly flicks up to you, and you must see something in his darkened, suddenly insatiable gaze, because your face is quickly flushing and your legs are squeezing shut.

“Do you want this tsawksyul?” he asks in a low voice, retracting from your body slightly so you don’t feel uncomfortable.

“Ye- yes,” you mutter, face turning an adorable pink colour.

“Are you sure,” he presses gently, reaching out to direct your gaze back to his. “We can do something else- we don’t have to-”

“No!” you gasp, eyes widening at those words. “No- I want this.”

“You have to tell me,” Aonung whispers, pressing a kiss to the perfect plush of your inner thighs, “if you don’t like anything. You have to say if you want to stop.”

“Don’t you dare,” you breathe, and he grins.

When he finally dives between your legs, it’s without the intent of ever resurfacing. You let out a surprised little gasp as he muscles his way between your pretty thighs, forcing them further apart from that meager gap you thought would satiate him.

He licks a long, tantalising stripe up your puffy lips, eyes practically rolling back at the sweet, heady taste of you, exploding over his tongue just as he spent so long dreaming about. At your reaction – accidentally bucking your little hips into his face with a choked gasp – he can guess you hadn’t been expecting the rough texture of his tongue.

He looks experimentally up at you, and you glare straight back with an impatient, expectant look on your usually sweet little face.

Fuck yes.

He sucks lightly and you practically shriek, hands tearing for something to grab onto. Unfortunately, your fingers find purchase closing around his hair – curls and kuru and all – and you tug.

Neither of you expected that groan ripped from him, the sound vibrating against you in a way that has your eyes rolling and moaning in glorious response. Aonung, who had already thoughtlessly been rutting his own hips against the ground in search of any salvation from that insatiable ache in his core, does not miss that warning heat start to coil in his abdomen.

But ever set on pleasing you, he does not lapse for a moment and ignores his own unravelling as you continue to desperately tug at his kuru. You’re already squirming and gasping for breath – only making hungry little moans and letting slip little gasps of curses and don’t stops.

He, in fact, has no intention of stopping soon. Not when you’re making all these pretty little noises, not when your own pleasure – the sounds and taste and scent of it – is nearly tipping him over the edge.

He can tell you’re close, and that’s what prompts him to slowly slide a finger into your soaked heat. With a choked moan your hand fists tighter around his hair. Aonung marvels at just how tight you are, clenching around his fingers like a vice as you struggle to adjust to his finger.

He vaguely revels in the thought of how amazing you’d feel, wrapped all tight and warm against his cock, and he moans into you.

When he knows you’re about to tip over the edge, when your eyes are rolling and your moans are becoming less words and more desperate pleading noises, he circles his tongue around your clit and sucks.

You come undone with a cry, clenching around his finger so much he can feel your whole heat aching against his ravenously laving tongue.

It’s only when your thighs (no doubt of their own accord) shut tight around his face in a glorious squeeze of soft, perfect squidge.

He isn’t sure why that’s what does it – though it is paired with your tugs on his kuru and his mindlessly rutting hips – but then he’s also pushed over that brink with a snarl you hardly even notice, too high on your own cresting pleasure.

But he has no time for shame or mortification at his early release, never even touched by you, because really, it’s a marvel it hadn’t happened earlier.

You’ve barely come down from your high when you notice Aonung still buried contentedly between your closed thighs.

“A- Aonung,” you pant, left breathless by your orgasm and the glorious sight of your best friend, all perfect and pretty, having the goddamn time of his life.

His only reply is to lightly tap the side of your thighs and mumble against your aching cunt, “Open these a little wider for me, tsawksyul.”

He vaguely notes your mouth drop open in surprise before he’s diverting his full attention to that heaven between your thighs. Your little huff of impatient is batted with your own gasp, but you – stubborn as ever – continue the struggle of attempting speech, “You-”

“Just one more,” he coaxes, licking another long stripe so his tongue catches on your overstimulated clit. Your defeated little groan is music to his ears, and a wide grip is stretched over his face as he victoriously resubmerges.

Your first orgasm has barely abated before your second is hurtling nearer with haphazard enthusiasm.

You’re whining and squirming from the overstimulation, but your desperate moans are punctuated with little gasps of don’t stop and encouraging tugs on his hair.

Aonung’s moaning into you, enjoying this quite as much as you are. His hands are holding you close by your soft plush of your thighs, tail sweeping and thumping behind him as he inevitably grows rock hard again, spurred by your euphoria.

All that exists is you. You’re so fucking wet, practically soaking into his mouth. All he can see and hear and taste is you, hips rutting against his face, hands clawing at his hair, head thrown back and moans spilling out of your gleaming, parted lips.

His jaw is aching in delicious wearing. The pain is satisfying in a strange way, and he contents himself with the knowledge he’s working.

It isn’t exactly best-friendly; the thoughts he’s having. He sincerely doubts his brain has never been this filthy, flying through all the lewd possibilities while he has you here.

“Aonung!” you slur out, thighs twitching over his shoulders as you near your high. “you need- slow down - ‘s too much.”

“You’re doing so well,” he hums against you, still maintaining his steady (and somewhat overzealous) pace.

Again, when he notices how close you are, he sucks your whole cunt into his mouth, tongue lapping at your little swollen clit as he sucks hungrily at you.

Then once again, your thighs are tensing and your moans are slurring into unintelligible whines. Your grip on his hair is iron as you gasp your way through your second high, eyes wide and lips parted as you heave for shaky, desperate breath.

Once you come down, you push at his head, tugging his hair away from your overstimulated cunt and trying to pull him back up to you.

“God- Aonung!”

Finally he relents, sitting up with a delighted little grin. You are also wearing a stupid little smile, though you look distinctly dazed and ruffled. Aonung feels a little surge of pride.

“Oh my…” you gape, eyes wide in bewilderment as you scan over him. His face is all shiny and gleaming and slicked, and you let out a little giggle as you reach out to try and wipe some of it away. “Oh my god- I’m so sorry.”

Aonung laughs with you, not in the least bothered by the mess of his face. Instead, he takes your hands in his and peppers light kisses up your arms and back towards your neck, where he is pleased to see his various gleaming bites and hickeys ornamented into your soft skin. You giggle again.

“Aonung?” you ask gently, a small smile curling at the edge of your voice.

“Mm?” he grunts, nipping another ruby bite into your collar.

“Care to fuck me now?”

Aonung pulls away an inch, trying to hide his obvious arousal as he studies your rosy grinning face.

“Are you sure?” he questions gently. “I mean you just-”

His voice dies in his throat when you reach up lightly to – tortuously slowly – pull at the strings of your top. He watches the top slide away without breath, and only when you’ve impatiently tossed it aside and grinned at him does he dare to move.

A complete sense of unreality washes over him. After imagining this moment for so long, it seems strange he cannot think of anything to do but worshipfully admire you.

He is pleased to note that, in fact, your breasts are just as soft and plush as the rest of you. They are round and full and slightly squishy in a way completely unlike na’vi, and he’s never been gladder that your aren’t just muscle, that your small body is so perfectly squidgy.

With a nod of consent from you, Aonung reaches lifts you lightly up to place you over his lap. You steady yourself with your hands on his chest, still looking a little rumpled and dazed, but he doesn’t miss that dark, mischevious gleam in your eyes as you stare down at him.

The second you��re balanced, your hand is reaching out to the tent of his tewng. You study him with greed, drinking in the sight of his arousal as though it’s what you need to live. He’s a little mortified now, but he hopes that you think the slick of your hips slightly rocking against his is why his tewng is soaked.

Your hand reaches out to trace along the edge of his tewng, eyes dark with frustrated, hungry impatience.

“Oh baby,” you whisper, your mouth twisted in strange ecstasy as you meet his flushed gaze. “Was this all for me?”

Before he can answer – though he doesn’t think he’d even be able to speak with you settled so perfectly over him – your hips slide back a little so your little palm settles right over his hardened length.

“Take these off.”

“Are you su-” Aonung starts to say, before you rock right up against his pained length and his voice stumbles off.

“Yes,” you whisper impatiently. “It’s not fair that I’m here all naked and you still get clothes.”

“I’m basically already naked and you wear clothes that cover much more than mine every day,” he protests.

“What, do you want me to get you a hoodie too,” you snap, and he knows you’re growing more frustrated and impatient with the effort of grinding against him.

He laughs, and you scowl fiercely at him.

“Just take it off Ao, I wanna make you feel good too.”

Those words practically punch a whole in him, and he feels another surge of unbearable affection for you, which is promptly murdered as you stop your movements in protest.

“You already did, tsawksyul,” he whispers.

“Not properly,” you press. “I want to do it.”

“Yes ma’am.”

Your hips rock hard against his, your bare cunt against his cock covered by that ridiculous tewng, and he feels his self-control slipping away. You must sense it too, because you’re grinning and shifting up to help him pull the last restraint between the two of you away. The tewng is thrown away with careless abandon to lie somewhere far away; there are no clothes needed here.

The small gasp you let out when you finally see him all bare and desperate and hungry makes Aonung’s heart thud painfully in his chest.

“Fuck yes.”

Your words explode from you as though you didn’t mean to say them, and a moment later you’re flushing with hot embarrassment. Aonung laughs lightly and you smile bashfully with an adorable little nose scrunch, before he’s lifting you back onto him again.

It’s bare – skin on glorious skin.

He needs to breathe for a moment, ears flattening against his head and eyes falling shut in dark pleasure. You’re so soft – thighs either side of him, breasts bouncing at the slightest movement – but you’re also so wet and warm and slightly sticky that he thinks you’re killing him.

It becomes painfully evident to him that the moment his cock pushes inside you, he’ll be fighting for his life to not come instantly. Again.

He always knew patience wasn’t your strong suit, but you’re growing more and more frustrated and he finally pulls his babbling brain together enough to flip you over to lie beneath him and align himself to your entrance.

With a small, almost pleading cry from you, with his heart thudding loud enough for you to hear, he presses in.

You’re clenching around him so tight, barely even an inch in. You’re tighter than he ever imagined, and he feels like he’s being coddled in searing perfection, so much so that he can hardly breathe as he slowly starts to push in.

When you let out a hoarse whine – the stretch is evident even to him – Aonung winces. He doesn’t want to hurt you, and the thought of you in pain is too much for him to bear. He settles himself with pulling you against him, soothingly stroking your hair.

He can’t look away from where you’re swallowing him whole. It’s a fucking addiction, a new drug. Even the sight of you slowly struggling to take him would be enough to send him over the edge, and he grits his teeth so he doesn’t come instantly and mortifyingly. Again.

And then finally, Aonung’s pushing past that tight ring of resistance and into your velvety heat.

He’s dying. He has to be. Because there’s no damn way he didn’t just go to paradise.

The breath is punched out of him in a low, desperate growl, his hands clawing into the ground to steady himself, to let you adjust, to not just completely lose his mind and bury himself deep into you.

“Holy shit,” you breathe, your voice no more than a desperate, filthy whimper as you look down. The sight of the bulge in your stomach drives Aonung fucking crazy, and he has to physically grip himself back from just slamming straight into you. “You’re all the way here.”

“Taking me so well syulang,” Aonung praises, eyes hazy with the strain and face flushed in the euphoric pleasure of your body around his. “Doing so good for me.”

He doesn’t miss the way you clench around him at the praise, the way your cheeks blush and you bite back a small, helpless moan. A good thing to know for later, and he makes a mental note to shower you in so much praise you don’t know what to do with it.

But in the meantime, he can hardly breathe through the effort of holding himself back. You’re gripping him so damn tight he thinks you might actually strangle him, the overwhelming pleasure and anticipation practically choking the breath out of him.

Your face is all twisted and screwed up, and Aonung doesn’t need to be a genius to see you’re in pain. He holds you close, whispering endless praise of how well you’re doing while reaching down to rub gentle circles on your overstimulated clit as he continues the painstaking, tortuous ascent into the heaven between your legs.

“Oh god,” you whimper, resting your limp head against Aonung’s chest, heaving for breath as you try your utmost to adjust to him. “Oh god, Aonung.”

The sound of his name rumbled from deep within your chest, coarse and raw and desperate just tips him just over the edge of mastering his control. His muscles tense as your nails dig into his chest, hips flexing somewhat and accidentally knocking into you, and you let out a strangled cry.

“I know, I’m sorry,” he says quickly, reaching to cuddle you in close, stroking your hair comfortingly. “You’re doing so well, tsawksyul.”

The words fall on practically deaf ears. You’re so flushed and radiant and ravenous that he doubts you’re even thinking straight, your face adorned with a somewhat manically exultant smile and rolling eyes as he slowly presses even further into you.

You’re clenching around him so impossibly tight, whimpering and moaning as he rocks several more inches into you. He doesn’t know what to make of your quiet sobs, whether they’re of pain or pleasure or just hungry impatience, but he comforts you nonetheless by settling his thumb gently over your clit.

Aonung couldn’t care less about how vocal he is, whispering endless praise, snarling out small curses, rumbling desperate groans against the skin of your bare neck, which is now adorned with gleaming hickeys and several smug little bites.

“Eywa, they didn’t do anything to deserve you tsawksyul,” Aonung groans, still rocking another inch into you. You give a weak, wet chuckle, and he presses a kiss to your shining forehead. “You don’t need any of them ever again, you got that? You won’t ever need anyone else.”

“Ye- yes.”

“I’ll take care of you,” he groans, hardly even aware of what he’s saying anymore. “Whatever you need, I’ll always be there with you.”

“Ao- Aonung?” you gasp, steadying yourself with a grip on his arms. “I wa- I want-”

“I know, I know,” Aonung soothes you, finally bottoming out inside you. There’s no way he would have fit all of himself in there, but he isn’t greedy, particularly when the part you could take is coddled so warm and wet and tight. “I’ve got you.”

It takes everything in him not to let loose immediately.

It’s with gentle words and a hand splayed out across your back to steady you that he pulls out an inch or so before rocking back in.

The effect is instant. You let out a strangled, lewd, filthy noise, eyes widening to round moons and mouth opening in almost dumbification. He makes a deep groan in response, pulling out again, pushing back in again, and the last pretences of friendship are shattered.

His lips find their way to your face, forehead clumsily pressed against your much smaller one, hands holding you gently – a softness at complete odds to the way he’s fucking you.

It feels sinful – the way this is so perfectly right, to have his best friend like this, all pretty and babbling and teary on his thick length.

He moans shamelessly every time his gaze passes over you – all stretched and beautiful – around him, taking everything he gives you.

The sounds you’re making are mingled pleading and sobbing, still shot through with greedy hunger. Each moan and whine and sob strike deep in him, hand in hand with the tears forming in your shining eyes.

Eywa, you’re so much tighter than he ever imagined – ever dreamed of. He’s pretty sure he tells you, but those words are lost in the stream of mingled praise and groaned curses pouring from him as he revels in the pleasure of you and you alone.

The sight of your tits bouncing at each thrust is hypnotic, and then finally his restraint is crumbling, and he dives eagerly forward to take one of them into his mouth.

You arch with a surprise cry as his mouth locks around your breast, tongue flicking over your peaked nipple, fangs trailing over your soft skin now slightly shining with the heat of his mouth. He ignores the contortion for him to do it – all discomfort is disregarded at the sounds of your pretty little whines.

He knew from the start he wasn’t going to last long, but he can see that you clearly aren’t going to either.

Your eyes are rolling, heaving for breath in the rare moments you aren’t cursing or babbling or moaning. Your hands and clutching for support, anything to cling to, something to anchor yourself so he doesn’t almost fuck you straight through the bed.

Aonung vaguely acknowledges (in some dimly functioning part of his brain), that perhaps he might be a little worked up. He’s wanted this for so long, thought about this so many times, imagined and replayed and perfected the vision of this moment, that there’s no slowing down now.

Nothing – not one of his filthiest imaginations, not one of his raunchiest desires – could compare to this. To you.

And then your mouth is opening in a hoarse, desperate cry, your fingers are clawing into the tensed muscles of his shoulders, your cunt is clenching so tight around him it’s bordering on sinful pain.

He reaches to rub circles on your poor, swollen, throbbing clit, and you practically scream.

“Fuck, fuck fuck- oh god-” you sob, shaking as he fucks you through your orgasm.

“I know, I got you,” Aonung whispers against your sweat-damp skin. He doubts you can even hear him, and he isn’t even sure he’s physically speaking all the words rushing through his brain.

It seems to almost go forever, and there isn’t a single second in which Aonung wants it to stop. You look so pretty writhing beneath him, clenching around him, panting for him, sobbing because of him, and when it finally seems to slow down, his own pleasure crests.

He’s grinning against your throat, so fucking pleased with himself. He’s so proud of the way you took him that he’s actually about to die, and when he moves to pull out, your nails dig into his arm and you shake your head furiously.

That’s that.

It all snaps in a final sort of conflagration, waves of pleasure and delight and ecstasy and overwhelming, unbearable euphoria rocking over him, over both of you, as he loses control and buries himself with a positive roar in your still clenching warmth.

He’s hardly aware of where he is, though he can vaguely hear moans and whines and curses he guesses may be his, though he can see himself filling you up to the point it’s spilling out the sides and onto your soft, shining thighs.

Aonung just allows himself a moment of selfish indulgence, of sinfully glorious exultation. Nothing matters, nothing even exists, beyond you.

When he flops onto you, shaking with heavy breaths, exultance coursing through his veins, he doesn’t bother to pull out.

You’re still so tight and strangely comforting all wrapped around him, pulsing in the glorious, tortuous aftershocks of your final climax. You don’t protest – though he’s careful to angle his body to not completely crush you.

You let him lie in delighted, satiated silence, tail sweeping happily behind him on the woven floor, head pillowed against the soft curve of your breasts, dimly admiring all the marks he left across your smooth skin.

You’re also trying to steady your breath, absently anchoring yourself to the present by fiddling with the woven cord of his necklace. Aonung notices the curved tooth is almost as large as your whole hand, and a stupid surge of affection wells in his heart.

Here you are, the prettiest little thing he’s ever seen, his best friend, seconds after the most lewd, intimate moment of your lives. What did he ever do to deserve even befriending you, let alone be your personal blanket after he may or may not have fucked you damn boneless?

“Are you alright?” he asks softly, when he’s regained enough breath to properly process your limp, heaving form.

You smile weakly and shake your head, saying, “I think you’ve ruined me for anyone else.”

“Good,” Aonung grins, shifting to nuzzle closer against your soft skin. “You won’t need anyone else ever again.”

“Oh, really?” you roll your eyes, but he doesn’t miss the way you can’t stop smiling. A moment later your hands are moving to cup his face, and he smiles back at you.

“Can I kiss you, tsawksyul?”

You don’t respond to his question for a moment, staring at him with lips parted in absolute disbelief before a loud, delighted laugh is rocked out of your little body. He frowns, confused.

“What?”

“You just fucked me near boneless,” you laugh, stroking his face affectionately, “and now you’re asking if you can kiss me?”

“Yes…?” he replies, brows furrowed. Your laughter fades and a small smile is left on your small, rosy face.

“Yes,” you smile, cheeks crinkling and eyes bright with strangely overwhelmed joy. “Yes, you can kiss me.”

And he does.

Different to before, not just full of lust and hunger and deep-rooted desperation fuelled by months of desire and affection. This is gentle, sweet, and a soft embodiment of all the warm fluffiness he harbours for you, his little tsawksyul.

He can feel your lips smiling against his own, your little heartbeat thumping against his chest as he cuddles you closer, arm wrapping protectively over you and tail draping lightly over your legs.

Then you’re giggling against him and he’s laughing with you and all the heaviness of the moment before is fading.

He realises that there had been a small naggling part in the back of his brain, wondering what would happened when you finished, when the heat and desire was gone, worried that perhaps it was just the arousal or something that was attracting you to him.

But this is the same then ever – albeit you’re naked. And in love.

Aonung smiles.

“I love you.”

You whisper the words back against his lips, legs wrapping around him to snuggle closer. He faintly dreads the moment you’ll have to pull away, but contents himself to the fact that he can cuddle you again tomorrow and the day after.

So he settles back, peppering you with kisses and light praise. After a few moments, when your breath has properly returned, you exchange some happy prediction for everyone’s reaction to you and him. He finds he couldn’t care less.

Eywa, he’s so happy to have you here.

His little friend.

──────⊱⁜⊰──────

Tagging my darlings: @hadesbabygurl @wavesarchive @kqlopsia @tadomikiku @ntymavtr @mommyanddadskiller @thehoneymushroomhealer @tsireyax @integers @tiyawnyana @whatevenisagrapefruit @oakbuggy @sunsetviper @blue-slxt @simplyawh0re@yootvi @narwhal-swimmingintheocean @vminlvxr @elegantfankidsoul @blue-slxt @neteyamssyulang @theunfortunateplace @lala-1516 @strongheartneteyam @kiskso @deadpool15 @vampirefilmlover @tysirya @universal-s1ut Please let me know if you'd also like to be added to the taglist :)

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poppyseed1031 · 6 months

Text

— 𝘱𝘶𝘭𝘭 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘴

the deets — you are a warrior of very few words, yet oftentimes your gaze betrays you. this widens the rift between you and the eldest sully, but will seeking refuge with the metkayina soothe the burn? especially when the alleviation comes in the form of a certain ocean boy?

the who — ao’nung x fem tipani!reader, a lil neteyam x fem!tipani reader

the word count — 7.1k (i thought this was gonna be longer, regardless i have zero self control)

the tags — slight e2l (you and ao’nung get off on the wrong foot), unofficial love triangle (reader has two people hooked lmao), angst (wouldn’t be me without a little heartache), fluff.

the warnings — language, ao’nung’s a cheeky lil shit, neteyam’s in denial and makes things difficult. ao'nung gives reader a lil kith.

the notes — this is my first request! it took me a moment to finish this because i wanted to really research the tipani to characterize reader the best i could. similarly, i feel like we don’t see much of ao’nung past the point of him being a little shit in the movie, so i had to take some creative liberties regarding his character. thank you so much to the anon who requested! this is so long, holy shit, but i hope i did it justice! :)

(also not proofread well, my bad lmaooo).

masterlist

YOU WERE BORN TO FIGHT. That was what your mother and father had told you day in and day out, from the rise of the sun, to the last eclipse. It was what they had told you when you began your training, when you had started to deepen your studies, and finally, when they clung to their final breaths in the smog of the burning jungle.

Your village was scarce, a dying lot, as families broke off and settled farther into the jungle, high above the forest floors and into the canopies of the looming trees.

Jake had heard about you, heard about your dwindling family, your mighty spirit. You were barely older than his eldest, just shy of ten when he’d taken you in, told the clan to revere you as their own. You were tough to crack, stoic, quiet, as you grew into a force to be reckoned with.

The only thing that chipped your facade came in the form of Jake Sully’s oldest son.

Neteyam, you’d come to realize, was always the diligent one; courageous, firm, and commanded any space he occupied. But he was curious about you. Curious about the lone wolf who wouldn’t even bat an eye in his direction. He poked and prodded, tried as he might, to crack a smile out of you in the first year or two, but found that you gave little reaction. The slightest tilt of the corner of your lips, the most infinitesimal furrow between your brow bones. It was triumph enough, but then things started to shift.

Though you’d softened around the Sully’s, especially Kiri who, despite being two years your junior, had doted on you like an older sister, Jake had seen potential in you and Neteyam as the fiercest duo.

It was only normal to consistently pair you two during your training, forcing the hands of time to twine you closer together as your iknimaya drew nearer. You’d both succeeded with flying colors and it was the first time Neteyam had touched you, crushing you in a hug so tight, you felt the breath and the sense leave your body.

You begrudgingly admit that from that moment on, you were wrapped around his finger.

Your heart would swell dangerously behind your ribcage every time his hand would come up to pat your head affectionately, stomach twisting in on itself when he’d flash you a pearly smile after each successful hunt. Neteyam made you feel, and it thrilled and horrified you all the same.

But despite basking in the warmth of his company, of being intertwined so intricately, you still feel grossly misplaced.

The thought of letting him in on the fact that he’s swayed your heart leaves a horrid taste in your mouth.

“It’s not like you to back down,” Kiri tells you as she helps you roll beaded tops and woven loincloths into the small satchel you’d designated for the flight to Awa’atlu.

The humans were closing in and Jake was growing desperate.

You stop, tongue in cheek as you settle back on your haunches.

“Some things are better left unsaid,” you reply, hands clasping in your lap as you level Kiri with a soft gaze through your thick lashes.

“Perhaps,” Kiri hums. “But will it settle well with you in the future when you think about your inaction?”

You stiffen a fraction, knowing that Kiri’s insinuation is a heavy one.

Will you be able to live without him knowing? Will it settle well when Neteyam courts another?

You doubt it will, but pride can be an ugly thing. You’d been taught by your parents, by your surroundings that reading into things farther than you must will only leave you scathed. You’re afraid to piece every lingering touch, every furtive glance, every sweet smile into something that paints an unwanted picture.

“The worst he could say is no,” Kiri presses. “You are his equal, his dearest friend. You could never ruin that.”

Kiri squashes every doubt you have with her encouraging words, so you take the plunge.

Neteyam is almost finished preparing for the journey when you poke your head into his tent, cheeks warm and blood pulsing erratically in your veins.

“One last walk through the forest?” you offer.

Neteyam grins from ear to ear, excusing himself before ducking out of the tent to meet you outside.

“Lead the way,” he gestures, voice deep like the velvet of the night sky.

You’re clammy as you walk a few paces in front of him, tongue tied and wracked with nerves as the forest comes alive so brightly around you. The bugs chirp and croak as you cross over fallen logs and climb through the dense flora.

You’re so deep in your head that you barely register Neteyam calling your name. It’s only when his hand clasps around your wrist that you jerk to a stop, neck craning to take in the concern that mars his freckled face.

“Everything okay?” he asks, head tilting to get a better look at you.

“I need to tell you something,” you blurt, swallowing down the courage threatening to escape your body.

“Of course,” he says, hand lacing with yours. “You can tell me anything.”

A breath catches in your throat before you finally spill.

“I don’t know what our future holds, but…” you trail off, distracted with how intensely he gazes down at you.

“But?”

“But I know that I want you in it,” you say, blinking when you realize that’s not at all how you wanted that to come out.

Neteyam’s head tilts again, this time confusion crosses his features.

You try again.

“What I mean to say is, I— well… I like you,” you admit, looking up to meet his golden gaze.

His face softens and your heart picks up speed.

“Oh, ________,” he whispers.

“Maybe I’ve always felt like this, I don’t know,” you continue, steeling your resolve. “But being around you, being with you, makes me feel light. Like I don’t have to bear the weight of the burden all on my own.”

You realize that this is beginning to go south when his mouth purses and instead of seeing you, he begins to look like he pities you.

“I’m sorry,” is all he says as he pulls his hand from your own. “We’re friends, ________.”

You look up at him and it feels like the forest has stilled enough for someone to strike it and shatter the peace.

“That’s all,” he reiterates. “I’m— I’m flattered, don’t misunderstand. You’re great, lovely, but…I don’t see you in that way.”

You recoil like you’ve been burned and Neteyam looks guilty.

“But…”

“C’mon,” he says, almost pleadingly. “We grew up together. You’re apart of my family. You’re like a si—“

“Don’t,” you whisper. “Don’t say it please.”

Neteyam sighs, deflating.

“I love you, you know that,” he urges. “But not in that way.”

Your lips press together tightly, shame filling every available space within you as you feel like the most minuscule speck underneath his burning eyes.

It’s like you’re both rooted to the earth, unable to part from the other, but you eventually fold first, backing away from his towering stance.

“________,” he sighs, like you’re just another task he has to deal with.

“Sorry,” you murmur. “I’m sorry.”

And you steal off into the glowing forest.

The waters of Awa’atlu glitter as you close in on the reefs. You lag behind the Sully’s, thoroughly taken by the prior night’s rejection.

You almost miss the tilt of the voyage, falling even further behind.

Neteyam peers over his shoulder, immediately noting your lack of focus as you fly with a wide berth between you and his family.

He falls back.

“You okay?” he asks over the flapping of wings.

He notices the puffs underneath your eyes when your gaze flits to him, but like a wall erecting itself, your face goes blank. You lean forward on your ikran and press her to move forward.

Neteyam is left at the rear now, watching you fall in tandem with Kiri who seems to light up at your first display of emotion.

The sun gleams againstglinting blue tides as silence blankets the newcomers, the only thing piercing the stillness is the squawk of the birds and the ripple of the waves.

You stand behind Kiri, staggered in a shallow of sand among the Sully's. You're the smallest of them all, hidden from view as the Metkayina begin murmuring.

“What a freak.”

Something tugs hard on your tail, and like muscle memory, your fist is flying. Your knuckles are caught before they strike and you look up into the foamy eyes of a towering boy whose skin is a gentle blue.

You pull your tail back, ears flat as you level him with a nasty glare.

The smirk playing at his lips disintegrates as Jake’s voice announces that his family are seeking refuge among the reefs.

You turn your attention back to the front as the woman, fierce despite being with child, takes Lo’ak’s hand and thrusts it towards the sky, announcing that his extra finger denotes demon blood.

The villagers gasp and you take a step forward, fists balled so tight you feel like they could burst through the skin. Lo’ak’s head is bowed, refusing to meet the intensity of the clan’s prying eyes, and you feel helpless.

Kiri squeezes your shoulder as Jake attempts to quell the crowd by hold up his own hands.

The murmuring intensifies as the Olo’eyktan and Tsahik stand at a distance, staring at each other in a silent exchange.

“Show them our ways,” the Olo’eyktan says after a final verdict. “So that they may not suffer the shame of being useless.”

Your body is rigid, tense as another ripple of speculation flutters through the crowd.

“My children will spearhead this by showing them the way of the water,” he says.

A deep voice makes a noise of protest behind you and your fist tightens around the strap of the satchel slung across your body, temper beginning to tick like a bomb ready to detonate.

The daughter of the leaders, Tsireya, is the one to show you to the marui that you’ll all occupy. It’s an empty one, uninhabited and clear of any belongings.

Tuk runs in, tossing her things to the wayside as she begins her inspection.

“Get settled in well, we will begin our first lesson before eclipse,” Tsireya smiles, then turns to you, trailing behind the Sully’s like their shadow per usual.

“I’m sorry about Ao’nung,” she says quietly, and you look up at the girl whose dimples dent her rounded cheeks.

“An apology means nothing if doesn’t come from the aggressor,” you say flatly, hiking up the roll of fabric tucked underneath your arm.

Tsireya’s ears flatten, her smile faltering as she nods her head.

“I suppose you’re correct,” she agrees. “The villagers are very steadfast in their ways. When change arrives, they are hesitant, but they’ll come around, promise.”

She takes your hand and gives your fingers a squeeze.

“Tell your friends not to be late,” she coos, pulling away from you to bound down the path you’d all come from moments before.

When you turn, Neteyam stands before you, skin dewy under the unrelenting heat of the pounding sun.

“Can I get this for you?” he asks, reaching for the items tucked under your arms.

You ease away, almost as skittish as the first nights you’d joined the Sully’s all those years ago. You feel shamefully like you’re back to square one as you shake your head wordlessly and Neteyam looks down at you with an indiscernible look on his face.

“________,” he murmurs, and you name sounds like a broken plea on his lips.

You push past him, taking a quick survey of your surroundings as you claim the level up, hammock tightened around two support posts under a woven canopy.

Your things are thrown haphazardly underneath the hammock and with your satchel, you’re steering quickly out of the marui.

“Hey, kid, where you running off to?” Jake calls out.

“Out,” is all you reply, steps quick down the unfamiliar webbing of the maruis’ woven walkways.

You’re on edge all over again, like you have to restart all of your valiant efforts to feel any semblance of comfort among another new clan. When you’d joined the Omatikaya, you were able to grasp onto the slivers of belonging through blending into the background, but now, as you pass villagers with skin as glittering and blue as the ocean, tails strong, and figures built, you feel so grossly misplaced.

You search for less, eyes falling near a swathe of shady trees and a shallow pool in the distance.

Your pursuit is futile as three looming figures emerge and begin surrounding you, basking you in their shadows.

“Are you a five-fingered freak like them?” One of them tries to swoop to grab your hand, but you recoil like their touch is acidic.

“Leave me alone,” you grumble, attempting to push past them.

Someone tugs sharply on your tail and you jerk back, hands and knees burrowing into the sharp grains of sand. A hand comes up to grab you by the top of your head, forcing your face skywards.

His curly hair is braided out of his face, the purse of his lips menacing.

“I asked you a question, weirdo.”

You hiss and his face contorts.

“I should—“

“Wune,” the voice is a warning.

A grunt of annoyance.

Wune lets go of your hair and pulls away from you. You all look in the direction of the voice, and your blood seems to curdle when you see the one who’d yanked your tail earlier in the day.

Ao’nung.

His chin jerks in the other direction and the three pass each other a knowing glance before retreating, leaving you to fall into a seated position against the sand.

You surprise yourself when tears begin to well in your eyes involuntarily.

“You okay?” Ao’nung asks hesitantly, crouching in front of you.

“Piss off,” you whisper, climbing to your feet as you quickly brush the tears from your waterline.

“Wait—“

“I said piss off,” you hiss, stalking away.

Awa’atlu is beautiful right before eclipse, sky bathed in orange and purples.

You’ve rejoined the Sully’s after your encounter with the three Metkayina boys and Ao’nung. Now you’re seated with the four siblings, Tsireya, and another friendly face that you’ve been introduced to as Rotxo.

“The way of water has no beginning and no end,” Tsireya says. “Our hearts beat in the womb of the world.”

Your heart beats fast now, like you’ve just run from one end of the forest to another. It beats erratically under Neteyam’s unrelenting gaze. He looks like he’s dissecting you, trying to pry into your mind and you hate that things have come to this.

You hate that one evening has shattered the careful friendship that you and Neteyam have built over the course of many tumultuous years. You want to find comfort in his presence, know with your soul that he’d tuck your hair behind your ear and tell you that things would be alright. But now you feel like you two are distant strangers.

“The sea is your home, before your birth and after your death.”

You want to argue that you know no home, that the wind seems to carry you where it may, but you bite your tongue and you zone out of her lecture.

You only tune back in when the hairs on the back of your neck stand at the arrival of a new body.

“Mother and father say that it’s time to prepare for the evening meal.”

After hearing the voice twice in the day, you recognize the timbre.

Ao’nung stands tall, chest broad and eyes bright.

They settle on you in an instant, and you feel indescribably smaller as Tsireya announces that she will continue during the morning’s eclipse.

Everyone begins to stand, brushing the residual sand from their skin as they begin to file away.

You’re startled to a stop when your name comes from Neteyam’s lips and a gentle hand latches onto your forearm.

You look down to see strong fingers lighter than your own holding onto you. Then your gaze flits to Neteyam who stands a few feet away, words dying on his tongue.

Ao’nung tugs lightly and you look up to meet softened eyes.

“Can I borrow you for a moment?” he asks. He notices the apprehensive look on your face as you peel away from him, then adds, “I’ll be quick.”

Neteyam opens his mouth to protest on your behalf, but you flash him a pensive look and he stops in his tracks, watching as you turn your slender back towards him and follow the lumbering Metkayina.

When the two of you are alone, you dig your toe into the sand, hands clasped behind your back as you wait for Ao’nung to break the silence and get on with it.

“I want to apologize,” he finally says, when you’re out of earshot of the village and the curious Sully’s who’d noted the entire exchange.

You look up at him, brow bone raised.

“For?”

“For being mean,” he says, “I was inappropriate.”

“Is this your sister talking?” you ask crudely, but he doesn’t flinch at the venom in your tone.

Instead, he smiles down at you.

“No,” he assures you. “One hundred percent me, promise.”

You look down at your feet, still fidgeting with the sand.

“I guess…” you trail off.

“You guess?” he prods.

“I guess we’re okay,” you say hesitantly.

Ao’nung hums.

“Good,” he concedes. “Great. I’m glad.”

You flash him a bored look through thick lashes and his lips twitch as he stares down at you with piercing eyes.

“I can be dumb,” he says, grin widening. “My family says I don’t know how to act around nice things.”

Your cheeks warm as you avoid his eyes, breaking away to catch up with Kiri and Tuk.

After dinner, in the quiet of the Sully’s marui, you lie in the hammock you claimed earlier in the day, hands folded underneath your head as you gaze at the stars.

“My dad came from a star,” Lo’ak had said to you one night, eliciting the smallest of smiles.

As you comb through each one, you burn to be up there. A digging desire to only know about shining bright and being wished so hard upon.

There are nights like these where everything feels heavy, where your shoulders sag underneath the pressure of being a great warrior. You wonder what life could be like had the RDA spared your village, had you not gone off into the forest to hunt, had you—

He’s a barely perceptible shadow under the glow of the moon and ocean, slinking down the woven path between pods.

Like a whisper of wind, you climb out of your hammock and over sleeping bodies.

As you slip out of the marui, you don’t notice the pair of sleepy eyes on your retreating figure.

Before he even knows what’s going on, you’re scurrying over the thick branches, following his path until he hits the intersection right before the Sully’s quarters.

You jump down and intersect Ao’nung, hand coming over his mouth before he can shout in shock. His eyes are wide as you stand on your tip toes, other hand coming to your lips to gesture for him to be quiet.

“What are you doing?” you hiss quietly.

His fingers come to your wrist, nudging your palm from his mouth to reveal a beaming smile.

“I was coming for you,” he admits.

“Why?” you press, shaking his hold away when you realize that he’d still been grasping your wrist.

“Have you ridden an ilu before?” he asks.

You shift uncomfortably.

“No,” you answer shortly.

“You wanna?” he offers.

“No.”

He frowns.

“Swimming?”

“Pass.”

“I have fruits,” he singsongs.

“Ao’nung,” you warn.

“Is it so wrong to want to spend time with you?” he asks, hands up in defense.

“Why would you want to?” you ask accusingly. “Your village sees us as demons and I’m included in that whether it applies to me or not. I’ll stay out of your way, just leave me alone.”

“I don’t think you’re a demon,” Ao’nung says gently. “If anything, I- I think you’re great.”

“You don’t know me,” you spit.

“I know enough,” Ao’nung says with finality. “I know that you are strong and your spirit is kind. Ewya has let me feel as such.”

Your expression is lethal, but Ao’nung doesn’t back down.

“One night,” he says quietly. “Spend one night with me.”

The following silence stretches eternally before something magnetic pulls you towards Ao’nung’s honeyed gaze. You chance a glance over your shoulder, met with stillness and the minute laps of the ocean on the shore.

When you meet his eyes again, you nod once, hesitantly, and he’s taking your hand to tug you into the glowy night.

Ao’nung returns you before the sun rises, a few early risers giving you two curious glances as he walks you to where you’d ambushed him the night before.

You wave to him hesitantly, sighing in relief when you you creep back into the marui and find everyone fast asleep, splayed over one another like a big heap.

You climb over limbs and snoring bodies, finally settling in your hammock to watch the beginnings of the eclipsing sun brighten the village.

You don’t notice the same bleary eyes watching you from where he’s laid on the floor, Lo’ak’s head weighing on his stomach and Tuk smushed onto his armpit.

They’re the same eyes that watch you all morning, as his family gets up one by one, stretching their lithe limbs and tidying up before being called for the day’s first meal.

Neteyam is watchful, stealing glances as you file behind his family from the pod to the clan circle, now buzzing with hungry villagers as the sun shines high in the sky.

But he doesn’t say a word, silent as you choose the seat farthest from him. Quiet as you blink your eyes sleepily, barely registering Tuk’s excited blabbering about all of the new things she can make with the shells and supplies here.

“Give it a rest,” Lo’ak grumbles from beside him.

He snaps out of his reverie, eyes narrowing in on his brother.

“What?”

“You’ve been watching ________ all morning,” Lo’ak chides. “She’s locked up tight, bro. No way you’re getting her.”

Neteyam’s blood curdles at the thought, wanting to tell his brother to shove it. But you’d shut him out the past few days, the sting of his rejection obviously driving a wedge between the two of you.

“Shut up,” he grumbles.

He hates that you’d gone from being inseparable to being strangers overnight. But what he hates even more is the way Ao’nung drops onto the log next to you and you don’t even flinch, just pass him a bored gaze that makes him beam.

He watches you closely, eyes glued to your every move.

Something ugly roils inside of him as Ao’nung offers you a braided bag and you hesitantly take a piece of dried meat from him, face morphing as you give him a nod of approval.

Ao’nung looks proud of of himself as he balances the bag next to him on the log and leans towards you almost imperceptibly. Neteyam expects you to put distance between the two of you, but you barely bat an eye, watching intently as Ao’nung talks animatedly.

Lo’ak scoffs beside him and Neteyam stomach turns.

Hours bleed into days, days bleed into weeks, and for once, you feel like things could be alright. The breathing gets easier, the learning comes faster, and something feels peaceful being near the ocean.

The only thing that hadn’t been amended was the gaping hole that separated you from Neteyam, but in the company of a certain Olo’eyktan’s only son, you don’t feel the burn as much.

You watch him now, as he treads water with Rotxo and the two Sully boys, walking them through the procedure of hunting under water and how to maximize their kills.

“…and the reefs underwater…”

He’s one and the same with the tides, mighty and commanding as his veined hands gesture confidently. One moment, he’s focused on his instruction intently, the next he’s glancing at you.

You feel hot in the warm waters as your cheeks flame under a genuine smile. Neteyam follows his line of sight, body tensing in the water when he sees the shy look on your face.

He’s not the only one who notices as Kiri feigns a gag and Tsireya pauses her spiel to giggle at the obvious exchange.

“Oh, ________,” she whispers giddily.

Your eyes swing to the group of girls surrounding you as Tuk lets out a gleeful laugh and pinches you under the water.

“Ouch!”

“________ has a crush,” Tuk singsongs obnoxiously.

You knuckle her forehead and give her a warning glare than only sends her into a frenzy, laughing and splashing as she seeks protection from Kiri.

“Stop that!” you whisper fiercely.

“Don’t tell me you’ve gone soft,” Kiri moans.

“No!” you say, a little too quickly. “No.”

No one in your circle looks convinced as Tsireya closes her lesson and leads the three of you to wade out of the waters.

“It’s okay, you know?” Kiri says once you’ve reached your belongings and sling your trusty satchel over your front.

You give her an inquisitive look and she throws her head back and laughs.

“I know you sneak out to meet with Ao’nung at night,” she admits quietly. “I love my stupid brother, but it’s okay to move on.”

You blanche, embarrassed at having been caught.

After the first night, when he’d taken you for a swim with his ilu and you’d gasped in both fear and delight as the creature cut through the waters to sail through the air, he had started to frequently come back for you in the wee hours after eclipse. It had turned from you clocking him as he approached the Sully’s pod, to you standing off the side of the path he usually crossed, waiting for him.

The first night you’d done that, his smile was so sweet, you felt something fluttering in your tummy.

Among one of those late night excursions, while you both were splayed on the beach after a particularly adventurous swim, Ao’nung had told you he wouldn’t mind showing you all the beautiful things Awa’atlu had to offer, you just had to say the words. And you had reluctantly agreed, heart locked away tight.

You hate to admit that he’s done well chiseling away every effort you’d made to remain snug behind your walls. He had coaxed you out with soft words, sweet fruits, meaningful talks. And you absolutely melted like putty in his hands.

“We are head and heart,” Kiri says gently. “Sometimes it’s okay to listen to your heart.”

You swallow under Kiri’s sympathetic gaze.

“You’ve been strong for a long time, ________,” she states simply. “Your feelings are not a weakness.”

You nod as she rejoins Tuk and Tsireya a few strides away.

A few moments later, a voice is warm in the shell of your sensitive ears.

“What adventure awaits after eclipse?” Ao’nung asks lightly.

You resist smiling up at him, but fail miserably when his webbed fingers come up to move hair from your face.

“I have seeds of a spartan fruit,” you say quietly. “If you know of anywhere to plant them.”

“I can make something work,” he assures you, thumb brushing your cheek, then pinching gently with a toothy smile. “Our usual place?”

You bow your head, cheeks hot.

“Of course.”

“Alright, little leaf,” he bids, that stupid nickname he’d called you one of the first nights, sticking. “See you then.”

He’s walking back in the direction of the other boys, cutting across the sand as they venture towards the heart of the clan’s village.

As you pick up the remainder of your items, you don’t realize a body has stayed behind.

“Little leaf?” It comes out as a scoff, mocking as your whirl on your heel and find Neteyam standing over you. “What’s your deal with him?”

You blink hard.

“What are you talking about?”

“You an Ao’nung,” Neteyam bites, temper short. “What’s going on between you two?”

Annoyance pinches the back of your brain as you look off into the roll of the shallow tides, then turn your attention back to the eldest Sully. For the first time in an infinite amount of moments, you don’t feel like falling into him.

“He’s my friend,” you decide to say, sucking in a deep breath in hopes of calming your racing nerves. “Is that alright with you?”

Neteyam’s glare doesn’t falter.

“Just your friend?” he accuses. “I know you meet with him after eclipse, don’t think you have anyone fooled. Why?”

“What do you mean why?” you counter, unable to keep the edge from your tone.

“Why are you sneaking around with someone you barely know after dark, ________?” he grills. “Don’t be dense.”

“Ao’nung is kind to me,” you argue. “He shows me about his life, about the villagers and the way of the water.”

“And what, I’m not kind to you?” Neteyam bristles. “Tsireya can’t show you all of those things?”

Your face scrunches in annoyance.

“You’re being unreasonable, Neteyam,” you scoff.

“I’m being unreasonable?” he asks in disbelief. “Ao’nung is just like the rest of the village, ________. You really thinking that in front of everyone else, he doesn’t shun us all the same?”

“No, Neteyam, I don’t,” you retort. “Because Ao’nung is nice. He goes to great lengths to make me feel welcome, like Awa’atlu is home.”

“So he puts on a show and you’re so willing to be with him, huh?” Neteyam seethes quietly. “We’re your home, ________. Ao’nung is earning brownie points with his parents having you hooked, but do you really think he sees you?”

You swallow, biting the inside of your cheek as you stare up at Neteyam in resignation.

“You can be so callous sometimes,” you whisper, turning to leave the conversation.

“I’m not done talking to you,” Neteyam sighs.

“Well, I am.”

You never make it back to the marui that night, still embarrassed that two of Sully’s had noticed that you were ditching your hammock as soon as the village turned in for the evenings. Instead, you wander around the beaches, collecting shells and little trinkets for morning handicrafts with Tuk.

After the island glows both from the luminescence of the habitat and the moon, you stand post, waiting for the familiar pad of Ao’nung’s feet over the sand. You watch the stars up above to distract you, fingers twitching as you recall your argument with Neteyam earlier in the day.

You know he was looking for chords to strike, but something akin to insecurity begins to root itself inside of you as the stars begin shifting further and further, indicating that a wide span of time has elapsed. The village is still, but your mind is racing as Ao’nung’s whereabouts remain a mystery.

Regardless you wait. You wait so long, you’d resorted to planting yourself in the sand, and after what felt like infinity, the morning eclipse begins. When the village starts to turn over for the day, curtains and drapery being pulled back to reveal slowly waking families, you finally stand, heart in your hands.

When you return to your pod, Neteyam is already up, posted on the edge of the walkway with his toes in the water.

He’s shooting up when he sees you.

“Where have you been?” he demands as you draw nearer.

His face softens when he sees the first tear arch over your sculpted cheekbone.

You quickly wipe it away.

“No where,” you grumble, pushing past him.

“________,” he urges.

You deflect his reaching hands.

“I’m serious, Neteyam,” you warn, the look in your golden eyes deadly. “Leave me alone.”

Despite not seeing Ao’nung the entirety of the day, you return to your post the next night, hoping the night prior had been a fluke. The seeds of the spartan fruit are held tight in your fist and you use them as a vessel to wish hard. But it’s futile when the stars that map the skies continue to inch and you continue to wait.

On the fourth night of Ao’nung’s absence, you decide to get to the bottom of things.

You weave through the maruis, into the village’s circle right before eclipse. You spot Tsireya first, then him. He isn’t hard to miss when you’ve grown to know the drape of his curling hair and the bass of his hearty laugh.

Rotxo, who sits opposite them, notices you first and his smile falters.

Ao’nung’s neck cranes and his face shutters as he locks eyes with you.

“________, hi,” he greets simply.

“Hi?” you parrot, the spartan seeds you were beginning to use as a safety blanket clutched tight in your fist. “That’s it?”

Ao’nung turns completely, waving off his sister and Rotxo as he stands to his full height.

“What are you—“

“I waited for you,” you hiccup, shocked at the emotion that hijacks every morsel of resolve and composure you’ve always kept a tight lid on. “I waited for you, but you never came.”

Ao’nung’s hands are on your shoulders, nudging you to a more private area, an alcove hidden among arched and gnarled tree roots.

“________, I don’t understand,” he says quietly. “You—“

“I waited for you so that we could plant these stupid seeds and—“

Your unfurled fist catches his attention and his eyes widen when he sees that you’ve gripped them so hard in your hands, your palms are bleeding.

He makes a move to grab you injured hand, but your fist tightens again.

“This is inappropriate,” Ao’nung says sharply, eyes pleading.

“What is?” you ask desperately.

“You and me,” he says, like it should make sense. “This isn’t right.”

Like a time warp, you’re brought back to the glowing forest before your departure. You see Neteyam’s disappointed expression, the twinge of disgust lacing his features at the thought of wanting you like you wanted him.

Your heart shatters.

Just when you thought you were getting over it all. Just when you thought that Ao’nung made you feel alive. Made you feel things you’d never felt before, he was extinguishing every sweet moment. If he was trying to cut ties before you could fall, it was too late. He was dousing the flames that had grown to engulf him and you don’t know how much more you can take.

“Why would you do this?” you whisper brokenly. “I wanted to be left alone. Why would you force yourself into my life if you don’t want to be in it in the first place? Why would you make me want you?”

Ao’nung’s expression turns sour.

“I want to be there for you, ________,” he says fiercely. “You shine so bright and you are so incredible, you don’t even know it, but I can’t do this.”

“Why?” you hoarse.

“You are promised to someone else,” he says vehemently. “This entire time, I have sought you out with the intention of making you mine, but your heart belongs to someone else.”

Your face crumples.

“What are you— I don’t—“

“Neteyam told me to stay away from you,” Ao’nung says. “That you two would solidify your union once it was safe to go back home.”

“No,” you interject. “That’s not—“

“Don’t be cruel,” he says quietly. “I don’t think I can take it.”

“No, Neteyam and I are nothing,” you spit. “We—“

The fury hits you full force as you pull away from Ao’nung and stalk away.

You don't you hear him rushing to catch up with you. It’s like you’re underwater, hearing muffled as you map the woven path to the Sully’s marui.

Everything is absolutely red as you clock him.

Neteyam is laughing with Lo’ak and Kiri when you approach.

The expression on your face is murderous when he looks up and he pales as he stands to meet your barreling figure. You’re shoving him away from you as soon as he steps in your immediate space.

“How could you?” you cry out.

Kiri and Lo’ak’s eyes are wide at your outburst, the warrior of few words teeming with anger and emotion as you square your shoulders. Kiri nudges Lo’ak’s shoulder and gestures towards their marui to give you two some privacy.

“________—“

“You told Ao’nung we were promised to each other?” you press, finger jabbing his chest heatedly.

His face contorts as his spine straightens.

“Yes, ________, I did,” he confirms, nearly smug.

“Why?” you cry out. “After everything, why would you—“

“You’re mine, ________,” he blurts, fists shaking as he closes in on you. “All mine, and I refuse to let anyone have you. Especially Ao’nung.”

The boy who stands before you is unrecognizable, so taken by anger and envy.

“You’re heartless,” you whimper.

“Me?” he asks incredulously, voice breaking as he comes up to grab you by your biceps. “You– You made me fall for you and suddenly you–“

“I liked you first,” you choke, eyes searching his wildly. “I liked you first and you told me that you were sorry. In that moment, I could see how you saw me. Pitiful, coarse, misplaced. Ao’nung doesn’t make me feel that way.”

“Ao’nung doesn’t—“

“For once in my life, I feel okay. I feel like I can finally breathe, and that upsets you? You’re jealous? All I’ve known is the forest from a distance, coinciding with clans that make me feel like an outsider! When it’s me and him, that’s all it is, just two souls existing together. This is the first time I can say such.” Your voice is hoarse, drawing wandering eyes.

Neteyam’s face softens.

His entire time growing up with you in the forest, he’d never seen you display as much of yourself as you had in this moment. He can feel it pouring from you, every feeling you’d kept locked tight in your heart. He sees it in your eyes, nearly feral as you tremble in his hold.

“You love him?” It comes out more like a statement, his chest heaving.

Love. A word that holds the weight of a thousand suns. Four letters that seal your fate.

Did you love Ao’nung?

No. You didn’t, but maybe…maybe you could learn to. You could learn to love him just how he’d learned you, how he meticulously dismantled every doubt you had in him.

“I could,” you whisper.

Neteyam’s grasp loosens and he looks wounded as he backs away from you, peering down at you like he doesn’t recognize the person you’ve become.

As the cloud dissipates, you become aware of the eyes watching the entire debacle.

You shrink, mortified that nearly the entire village knows of your feelings for their Olo’eyktan’s son.

You turn on your heel to flee, but a sturdy body stands a few feet away, leaned against one of the twisted trunks of a tree supporting the surrounding maruis.

You swallow.

“A-Ao’nung,” you splutter.

His smile is soft, knowing, as he pushes off the tree and comes to stand in front of you.

“You’re popular, little leaf.”

You buckle, head bowing in embarrassment.

“I’m sorry, Ao’nung,” you murmur. “I…”

His hand comes around your head and pushes your face into the smooth skin of his chest.

You soften.

“Why are you sorry?” he asks, hand caressing your loosening braids.

“This must be embarrassing,” you whisper.

He spins your bodies, tugging you back down along the path you marched to confront Neteyam.

“You could never embarrass me,” he assures you, guiding you towards the village circle. One of his hands turns yours over, inspecting the tiny wounds as you two hurry along. “Let’s get you fixed up, okay?”

You can barely swallow around the lump forming in your throat as he climbs up into an empty pod used for treating the wounded and helps you up.

“Sit,” he coaxes, striding to the ledges of supplies, meticulously organized by his own mother.

You obey, tears streaking your cheeks as you tuck one leg under the other. You don’t feel like the mighty warrior Jake and many of the Omatikaya have made you out to be all of these years.

You feel small, and you feel weak. All because of a boy.

“Hand, please,” he says gently, kneeling in front of you with an arm full of remedies.

You oblige, offering your shaky hand, palm up.

The blood has dried, revealing small little angry lacerations that sting when he pours a thin liquid to clean them. You hiss and the tears start again.

“Stop,” he murmurs, wiping away the rivulets that slip. “Stop crying.”

“I’m sorry,” you repeat, fist balling involuntarily when he slathers a viscous mixture on your palm that soothes the burns.

“Stop apologizing,” he says softly. “You have nothing to be sorry for.”

He places a leaf over your palm and then wraps your hand in a soft cloth that sates the ache. When you’re all patched up, he brings your fingers to his lips, then holds them tightly in his lap.

“I need to hear it for myself,” he sighs.

“Hear what?” you croak.

“Every moment I spent with you since your arrival has been precious to me,” Ao’nung says. “I want you to say it to me.”

You’re in knots, swallowing hard as he blurs.

You take a gasping breath as you will yourself not to cry.

“I want you, Ao’nung. I see you,” you warble. “And I’m petrified to admit it because admitting it means I’m being vulnerable, but I want you to see me too.”

His lips curve, pulling you forward so that you have to catch yourself on your uninjured hand.

“You scared me for a little there,” he whispers, mouth a hairsbreadth from yours. “I don’t know what I would do if all that time we spent together meant nothing to you.”

You swallow for the thousandth time.

“Never,” you shudder.

His smile widens.

“You’re not gonna stop me, are you?” he asks, lips ghosting yours as his eyes search your own.

“No,” you murmur.

“Good,” he sighs.

He kisses you like you’re delicate, pulling you into him to taste every unspoken word you’ve held onto since the first night he came to you.

When he pulls away from you, forehead resting against yours, he’s so quiet when he whispers.

But you hear him all the same.

“I see you, little leaf.”

an — AHH second full length oneshot is done! if you've made it this far, i thank you again! i had so much fun writing this request and once more want to express gratitude the anon to shot me this idea! ALSO purposefully left out details of their little rendezvous' so that i could do some drabbles for them in the future! next fic is (finally) the lo'ak x reader i've been blabbing about.

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poppyseed1031 · 6 months

Text

Too close to the sun

adult Ao’nung x female na’vi reader x adult Neteyam

Words: 10.6k

Summary: Ao’nung loved you as Icarus loved the sun- too close, too much.

Warnings: explicit smut, mmf threesome, ooc Neteyam, biting, p in v, oral, toxic behavior, jealousy, possessive behavior, best friends with benefits, fake dating, angst, one sided love, double penetration, anal

Adult Neteyam / Ao‘nung art by the amazing @cinetrix 🩵

Notes: I was aiming for porn and it got emotional my bad

Translation:

Tsawke = sun

Sevin = pretty

Paskalin = honey

"Everyone knows the story of Icarus, who Daedalus warned not to fly too near to the sea, nor too close to the sun.

Have caution, they are saying, because when they tell you this story they are Daedalus.

Have caution, I am saying, because when I tell you this story, you are Ikarus and I am the sun."

— ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ —

Ao’nung wasn’t always in love with you. And there’s nothing he wishes more, than for the time to come back where he wasn’t. That time, before that dumb arrangement.

It was a double edged sword.

It wasn't so much a friends with benefits arrangement as it was a assured destruction. Because Ao’nung hadn’t known what he was agreeing to.

“Nungy, would you do me a favour?”

 You see, spending every possible second with you has taught Ao’nung to be cautious, to pick up on those minuscule changes in your voice, in your eyes. And the way you called him by this silly little nickname made goosebumps break out over his skin, because whenever you blinked up at him with those big doe eyes and that innocent little smile and then called him nungy, he knew that there was something that you wanted and he also knew that there was no way he could ever deny you.

 “I’ll do you one too,” you promised, tilting your head, a mischievous smile tugging on the corner of your lips. Oh, you little…

 “…alright. What do you want now, hm?”

 Looking back, Ao’nung realizes that this was his first mistake. His next mistake was not getting up and running when you grinned at him like he was some prey that just walked into your trap. His biggest mistake, however, was not saying no when you proposed this strange arrangement.

"Please pretend that you… that you want me. That there’s something between us. Just for a while nungy, please. Maybe that would make him jealous, would make him realize that he wants me too."

 Or maybe he made the first mistake long before that. Maybe his biggest mistake was to befriend that little girl he made fun of, twenty years ago. Or maybe it was making fun of you in the first place. Maybe he should’ve never picked on you, should’ve never made you cry, maybe he should’ve never went to you and apologize, because he has never apologized to anyone else ever before. Maybe he shouldn’t have blushed like an idiot when you accepted his apology, swung your little arms around his neck and pulled him into a hug, told him it was okay. Maybe, just maybe, he should’ve never made the girl cry that then accepted his apology so unconditionally that Ao’nung swore he would never let anything bad happen to you ever again, because you were the first person to accept him as he is, that could see through his façade and saw something good. Something worth to be loved.

He hadn’t known that he was agreeing to losing himself and becoming inseparable from you. Or maybe he had, he’d already known he needed you like his lungs needed air to breathe when it was just friendship between the two of you. He just hadn’t counted on how much his own helplessness to the whole situation would drive him crazy. How it would only be a matter of time before you sunk beneath his bones and nurtured this deep seated familiarity into a love so fierce that he would question if he had ever truly been in love before you came along.

But your love was directed to someone else.

Every single nerve-ending burned with the desire to haul a fist over and slam it into his face. It was on the verge of painful just to hold his muscles tightly still whenever he was around. If he did anything to this piece of shit, Ao’nung knew he would be the one to get punished for it.

Neteyam. He’s the one his tsawke was so head over heels for. The omatikaya prince that grew roots on his island a couple of years ago when his family sought otulu within his clan.

Ao’nung knew you had your eyes on him ever since you took part in training him for his second iknimaya with the metkayina. But he didn’t deserve your kindness. Neteyam didn’t deserve any of the things you did for him, the things you still do. Not with the way he had that filthy grin on his face when his eyes roamed your body. Not with the way he acted all innocent and kind in front of others, but his true nature made Ao’nung scrunch his nose in disgust.

Neteyam just wasn’t a good guy. Sure, he had this special talent in making others believe that he was, but he certainly wasn’t.

You’ve spent years trying to get his attention with courting gifts, fleeting touches and seductive words. But while Neteyam seemingly tried to leave his filthy fingertips on every women in the village, he barely paid you any mind. Just enough though, once in a while, to keep you wanting him, keep you on edge. Like this was all just a fun little game to him.

But what shocked Ao’nung most was, that you knew. You knew that he was a flirt, knew that he slept around, knew that he was playing with you, kept your hopes up for years on end but never returned any of these feelings or kind gestures to you and yet you still couldn’t peel your eyes away from him. It made his blood boil, because how could a smart little thing like you be so blind, so dumb to fall for him, of all people?

Truth be told, Ao’nung wasn’t even sure if part of the reason he agreed to any of this was that he was hoping it would work. Ao’nung was hoping this would get Neteyam jealous, he was hoping this would hurt him as much as it hurt you to find him flirting with another woman yet again, to find him wearing the bracelet you made while his hand was buried between another woman’s thighs. Yes, Ao’nung hoped it would hurt him. Even if he was hurting himself on the way.

But by eywa, could hurting himself feel any better?

The first time he gave in to you was intense. It left you with a noticeable, unplaceable stiffness in your walk the next morning, but aching to have him again. Ao’nung found himself unable to lean his weight fully against anything for three days, his muscles sore, feeling thicker than usual. There were gouges from your nails in his back, bruises from his hands on your body, marks from his teeth everywhere they could possibly cover. Marks that were normally meant for no one to see, yet you displayed them like they were art, meant to be noticed, to be seen.

"Louder, tsawke. Let him hear you."

He doesn’t know what drives him more insane. The feeling of your walls clamping down around his cock, squeezing him so painfully tight it felt like he might come undone at any second. Or the knowledge that you were doing this only now that he had mentioned him. Not that it actually mattered.

A wet rhythmic smack of flesh against flesh filled the air in your marui. Ao’nungs hands were at your hips in a tight grasp, your cheek shoved against the ground, ass high in the air as he pounded into you.

"Let him hear how good I’m making you feel", he whispered against the shell of your ear. "Moan my name."

Selfish, yes.

But you just sound so sweet when you gasp his name like that, with that whiny tone in your voice that’s halfway muffled into the sheets, little punched out moans garnishing the whole thing before his cock started throbbing inside you.

He made sure Neteyam heard every little noise you made, every moan, every whimper and every filthy squelch of his cock drilling into your wet heat. Ao’nung made sure he heard all of it. You were his, he let himself believe. Even if it was just for now, just for this.

"Ao’nung!" The name rolled off your tongue as a whimper, a gasp, followed by a choked-off moan as he gripped your hips and pressed himself closer against you, buried his face into the crook of your neck and lapped at the bite marks that he only recently put there.

Anyone could claim their mate with a courting gift, he thought proudly, sucking yet another hickey into your throat as he simultaneously trusted into you. But these bites and hickeys, they were an art that required precise observation from their presenter and the complete trust from their acceptor.

These weren’t cold, lifeless symbols of affection, no. You couldn’t just take them off. But they had short lifespans, often only a few days, a week if he was lucky. And this gave him the opportunity to continue to give you new ones over and over, of different sizes, shapes and colors; and if he didn't feel like putting them on your throat, then he could put them on your breasts, your hips, on your wrists, your shoulders or your thighs.

Your entire body was an available canvas for these markings and he took great advantage of this.

Ao’nung liked having the ability to move them and create new ones as the old faded and disappeared. He liked having the opportunity to accept and receive his own markings when your old ones had once again retreated from sight.

They were profoundly intimate, a powerful symbol that was physically felt each and every time it was given to an extent that any other courting gift never would be.

— ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ —

Yesterday night’s memories were still pretty much livid in front of his minds eye as Ao’nung not so subtle failed to listen to his so called friends about whatever they were talking about.

Nothing they weren’t used to. It’s not like he had ever actively participated in a conversation that wasn’t about him, anyways. And it’s not like he cares much about what that says about him. Ao’nung knows these guys aren’t really his friends. At least not like you are. They’re more like his goons, brainless little minions that have been following him around and would listen to every one of his orders since the day they found out he will be the next olo’eyktan. He’s almost certain that they wouldn’t stick to him if it weren’t for this fact.

Gentle waves rock him back and forth on his tsurak, the morning sun casting a warm glow over the vast ocean, his spear-gun strapped to his back as they wait for the rest of the hunting party to join them.

Ao’nung doesn’t need a mirror to know that he must’ve looked like he was ready to commit a crime when some of the younger hunters were accompanied by the Sully brothers, and he wonders which of these skxawngs had invited them so he knew which of them to exile from any hunts for the next month or so.

Neteyam greets the others first as he approches, polite as ever, but there’s a knowing, dirty little grin reserved just for him as he turns in his direction to reach a hand out for him to shake, like they’re friends. Ao’nung fights the urge to scoff and roll his eyes at that.

Reaching their chosen spot, he then signals the other hunters to prepare their fishing spears and nets. Each of them take their position, their eyes keenly scanning the water's surface for any sign of movement, while some others submerge into the deeper water.

However, Ao’nungs own eyes are unfocused. He has a hard time concentrating on anything other than that insufferable forest boy swimming only mere inches away from him. Like letting his five fingered freak of a brother participate wasn’t already enough of an insult to his warriors pride. No, now there were two of these demon spawns here with him. He knew Neteyam wasn’t even doing anything particular annoying, yet it felt like he was taunting him with every breath he took.

It was as if he could sense his thoughts, because a shadow suddenly casts over the spot Ao’nung had aimed his spear to, making it impossible for him to see through the waters surface. Looking up, Ao‘nung is then met with a pair of golden eyes and sharp teeth grinning back at him.

Any complain about Neteyam blocking out the sun so the man would hopefully move and bother someone else dies on his tongue, the moment his gaze lands on the shiny pearl that’s dangling over his shoulder, tidily braided into a strand of ink-black hair.

Ao’nung would probably recognize this white pearl everywhere. He was with you the day you had found the shell, had watched you crave and polish it for hours. He had wordlessly sat besides you, pondering if you even realized that a similar pearl garnished his songcord as a reminder of the day he had met you. That he had once sat where you sat, spent hours working in concentration to crave the pearl from such a filigree shell that his hands were hurting for days, hoping you would return the gesture to him one day.

"Neat, huh?" The omatikaya smiles, but it’s not a genuine one, before he brushes through his braids and twirls the pearl between his fingertips. It makes Ao’nung snap out of his thoughts, and he’s quick to advert his gaze to the sun, secretly hoping it will burn his eyes so he would never have to look at it on him again.

He just hums, barely a coherent response. While he wants to agree, simply for the fact that you had made it, he would also rather die than compliment the demons son. And he knows Neteyam just want to force a reaction out of him, so he chose to end the conversation right here and wordlessly swims a little further, where he then aims his spear to the waters surface, targeting a fish with precision and—

"Almost as pretty as the little thing that made it for me." Neteyam squints his eyes at him as he chuckles, and this time his amusement is sincere. Aimed to hit a nerve.

With a swift motion, Ao'nung hurles his spear into the water, but it completely misses the shimmery fish that had caught his eyes.

He turns to glare at the man that’s practically begging to be the next target. His Tsurak growls, making the water around him vibrate as it feels the anger radiating off his rider through the bond.

"I didn’t mean to insult you", Neteyam laughs and shakes his head, holding his hands up in surrender. "You two are awfully close, no?"

With a sigh, he regains his composure, takes a deep breath and, afraid that whatever might come out of his mouth would only start something that wouldn’t do him good, simply choose to nod instead, his eyebrows still drawn together tightly. Neteyams grin still hasn’t vanished, yet he seems to mimic the way Ao’nungs spine had straightened, which in return made him feel like he was under interrogation.

"How come I still haven’t seen any courting gifts on her then? Whatever it is called that you have with her, is that some kind of arrangement or…?"

"Nothing that should concern you, forest boy", he cuts him off.

"Hmh, right." Neteyam nods and Ao’nung can’t help but pray to eywa that this would finally be the end of this uncomfortable conversation. Unfortunately, it is not, as the forest boy then swims a little closer, his voice low as he says, "Well, by the sound of the moans you knock out of her", a look comes over Neteyams face, and it sickens him to realize it was arousal. "I may have to try my hand at her sometime too, just to see what all the fuss is about. Seems like she loves to spread her thighs for just anyone."

Ao’nung balled his fists, and ground his teeth together so hard, he was almost certain he could hear a crack. It took every last ounce of energy not to lunge at him.

Neteyams words whispered over and over and over in his head, a rolling loop that he thought might actually drive him insane.

— ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ —

Never had left him a hunting trip so tense before, Ao’nung realized, sighing as he lowered himself into the water. It was warm and relaxing, soothing his tense muscles and the ache he felt.

He seemed to get like this a lot lately, feeling stressed and tense and trying harder than ever to will himself to sleep, to concentrate and to stop thinking about this. But it was impossible. Ao’nung found his mind going back to the same problem over and over again and he found worry and jealousy rising in the pit of his gut more and more.

It had been some time since his last visit to the hot springs in the center of the island, and at least the waters were soothing on his overworked body. Not to mention the way your hands were gently running over his shoulders, as you positioned yourself to straddle his lap.

The hot spring was large, a natural pool that sat surrounded by smooth stones, leaving the air here steamy and considerably warmer than the rest of the forest. A popular spot to bath for the metkayina, but tonight it was calm and empty.

Long, ropy vines hung low and mingled with purple leafy plants above him. Bountiful beds of marigold, azure, blazing red, and creamy orange blossoms lined the space that the pool inhabited. Small particles of pollen danced in the steam that rose to the sky. Blue-green moss coated the rocks where their surface was wet and slick from the humidity.

You had both stripped out of your clothes, long past being uncomfortable with each other's nudity. Your warm, soft breasts now pressed against his chest, thighs framing his waist and his body finally relaxes as he deeply inhales the swirling aromas of both, the hot spring, filled with oils and herbs, and also your sweet natural scent.

Ao’nung rests his back against a rock that had been weathered smooth, his hands gliding over the soft skin of your back, up and down, as you continue to knead the tight muscles of his shoulders and neck. Through the upper canopy of the trees he could see night draw in and a soft rumble filled his chest as he pulled you closer.

"Still not going to talk to me about what happened today?"

Your playful voice is what makes him pry his eyes open and unfortunately return his mind to the moment and todays memories.

"Nothing happened today, tsawke. I already told you", he grumbles.

"You know I can tell when you’re lying", you push and Ao‘nung wants to roll his eyes, but he misses the strength to do so. Instead, he just buries his face into the crock of neck and makes a sound of annoyance. "And you’re never like this after a hunt. Normally, I can’t even get you to shut up about how you made the biggest catch and how you’re oh so much better than everyone else, how they’re all just a bunch of skxawngs and– ", you begin to mock him, but can’t finish the sentence as a teasing little giggle bursts out of you.

"That does not sound like me at all", he protests, yet can’t hide the lazy grin forming on his lips.

It’s moments like these that Ao’nung values most about your friendship. It feels so intimate and natural, the way you so playfully interact with him. How close you are, physically and mentally. You take care of each other, even if the ways in which you do, go beyond any normal friendship. It just feels so good to be in your presence, it makes him forget about the world around him for a while. Makes him forget why he was even so tense, what exactly had plagued his mind in the first place. There was just you now.

Ao’nung doesn’t even try to wipe the woozy smile from his face as he listens to your soft giggles and the joy it brings you to tease him, to know that you’re the only one allowed to do this and continue unharmed. Oh, how you loved to take advantage of the soft spot he had for you.

Your chest was still pressed firmly against his own, droplets of water running down your collarbone and collecting in a small puddle where your breasts are squished together. You wear your hair up in a bun, a few messy strands sticking to the sweaty skin of neck and forehead and Ao’nung thinks you’re the most beautiful woman he has ever laid his eyes upon.

Between soft laughs as you mimic his cocky way of presenting himself, he catches you off guard as he suddenly presses his lips against yours.

He knows there’s no reason to do this. You’re all alone out here, so there’s no point in trying to make someone jealous that wasn’t even there to witness it. But from time to time, both of you had sought the other out just to get some sort of relief, so this wasn’t really something new to either of you. This agreement had long become more than a means to make Neteyam jealous. Besides, if he had to pick something he would get out of this agreement, it was this. After all, you promised him a favor if he would agree.

Your lips are soft and your tongue tastes warm and sweet as he deepens the kiss, tilting his head and cradling the back of your head to get better access. It doesn’t even take a heartbeat for you to relax into the kiss, exhaling a soft sigh as your arms encircle his neck and pull him closer.

The gentle sway of the water fuses you tighter together, and soon you’re rubbing and grinding against each others wet bodies. His hands are everywhere on you, pushing and pulling and kneading every inch of skin until your cheeks are flushed red and you’re panting against his lips.

"Please", you whisper softly, and he feels your thighs squeeze around his middle. Your hands roam over the muscles of his chest, then down over his abs, between your bodies, until they reach the base of his cock. "Please, can you…"

"Can I what?", Ao’nung breathes against your lips. He plants open mouthed kisses from the corner of your lips to your jaw, down to your throat. "Talk to me, tsawke. Tell me what you want."

"Touch me", you say, and it’s so whiny it almost sounds like a complain. Meanwhile your hands begin to stroke and squeeze up and down the length of his cock. It makes him chuckle as he licks a wet stripe from your collarbone down to your breast, "But I am touching you."

You make a frustrated sort of noise and Ao’nung smiles, softly, fondly, and then he carefully closes his teeth around a nipple and tugs.

"Fu– Fuck, c-come…on", you pant, "You know what I mean! Just— please!"

His tongue traces from your breast back up to your throat, where he buries his face into your skin to inhale more of that natural sweet scent you release. Ao’nung let’s out a deep groan once you stroke him a little faster and it almost makes him forget what he was supposed to do with his own hands.

"Please, Ao’nung", you whine again, but what snaps him out of his aroused trance isn’t your pleading voice. It’s the sound of someone else approaching the hot spring with a low chuckle.

"It’s not nice to make a woman beg like this."

You inhale a sharp gasp, pressing yourself tighter against Ao’nungs chest in an attempt to shield your naked front from any unwanted viewers. His tattooed arms hold you close, encircled around your back and covering your skin as much as possible. With his eyebrows knit together, he glances over the top of your head to see who was stupid enough to interrupt his alone time with you.

"Oh, please don’t stop on my account. I was enjoying the show."

Neteyam. Oh isn’t this just great, Ao’nung thinks to himself, grinding his teeth as he watches toruk maktos eldest step into his direct view.

There’s a sharp grin plastered on his entirely too perfect face. And this man dares to call himself a warrior? There’s not a hint of a scar on his skin, not one tattoo adorning his body that could tell of his victories, his hunts. He might as well be a nobody.

"What are you doing here?" The grip Ao’nung has on you is possessively tight and for a moments he thinks he’s the reason for your breath has stopped.

"Well, what do you think?", Neteyam chuckles and the golden color of his eyes seems to glint in the moonlight as they rake over your exposed back. "I came here to bath, just didn’t know this spot was already… occupied."

It’s a reasonable response. But not even close to a good enough reason for him to stay.

"You can leave then."

Neteyam did not seem to share the same thought.

"Hm, I don’t think I will. Besides, that gives us the chance to continue our nice conversation from earlier, don’t you think?"

Ao’nungs growl rumbles from deep within his chest as he watches him step closer to the hot spring. Briefly, he remembers that he had very clearly warned the brat to stay away from you this morning, even if it was through gritted teeth and words that were generally much nicer than the ones he would’ve preferred to use.

Neteyams hands were already working to untie the knot that held his loincloth together, before he paused for a moment. A quick glance to your face and Ao’nung was met with the sight of your widened eyes, lips slightly parted as you were obviously trying and failing to proceed what was even happening. Neteyam then pauses.

"Unless you…", with a tilt of his head his eyes meet yours, a sly smile pulling at the corner of his lips, "want me to leave?"

Taken aback, your breath hitches in your throat. There’s a look of uncertainty on your face, as if you were struggling to express what you wanted. If you even knew what you wanted, Ao’nung thought. Your eyes then skipped between both men for a moment, a blush spreading over your cheeks so deep, they were almost turning purple now.

Ao’nung feels his chest tighten as you glanced from Neteyam to him, and then back to Neteyam. For a moment he’s scared you would tell him to leave, now that what must’ve been a dream to you finally seemed to come true. But you don’t. You just say nothing.

"That’s what I thought. You don’t mind if I do, right?" A soft rumble filled the man’s chest, almost a purr, as he untied his loincloth and then stepped into the water.

Your breathing had picked up rapidly, Ao’nung realized, feeling the way your chest pushed against his own as you inhaled quick, shallow pants of air. There’s a moment of very uncomfortable silence, made worse only by the tension that filled the air as Neteyam let out a content sigh after making himself comfortable, sitting with his back against a rock, arms sprawled out over the edge of the hot spring like he owned the place.

His abs tense just above the waters surface as he stifles a laugh, and he brushes a loose braid behind his ear while his eyes seem to be glued to yours.

"By the look on her face I assume you haven’t told her about our conversation from this morning?" He asks, his gaze moving for just a split second to look at him. You seem to follow his example and crane your neck up to look at him questioningly, your brows raised high.

Ao’nung can't think about what he's supposed to say now. If he thinks too much about it, he'll end up punching him in the face and it probably won't end there. It’s like Neteyam can read his mind, or maybe he’s just good at reading facial expressions, because he’s quick to give an answer to the confused look on your face before Ao’nung even has the chance to open his mouth.

"Sevin", Neteyam says and Ao’nung wants to vomit, "why don’t you turn and face me, hm? It’s rude not to look at the person that is talking to you, don’t you think?"

Ao’nungs arms tighten around you, so hard it’s like he’s afraid you‘ll float away if he won’t hold you close enough.

But then you whisper a soft, "It’s okay", and uncontrolled jealousy punched right at his gut as you wriggled yourself free.

It’s almost like he had forgotten for a moment that this was kinda part of the deal. That he’s not the one that’s supposed to be jealous. That if he were a good friend, he would’ve gotten up and left ten minutes ago, give the two of you some space, help you achieve the goal you’ve been working so hard for the past year or so.

Usually, Ao’nung could camouflage all and any feelings from anyone very well behind angry glares and scornful smiles. He was an impenetrable wall for those around him. Except for you, of course, who could normally read him like an open book. But now that your attention was entirely directed to someone else, you couldn’t even see the way a flash of hurt and jealousy came over his face for just a heartbeat.

Your hands trembled as he helped maneuver you to sit on his lap, facing Neteyam that sat opposite of you.

"That’s much better, isn’t it?" He grins and you give him a sheepish little nod, blushing even deeper as he purrs a whispered praise. Ao’nungs arms encircle your waist, pulling you flush against him. He feels the soft of your bottom pressed against his crotch, and if it weren’t for the current situation, he would’ve loved nothing more than to slide into you and take you just like this. Unfortunately, the omatikaya sitting right in front him then continues to talk and sets every single nerve inside him on fire with the urge to get up and push his head under the waters surface until he stops mov—

"I meant what I said, by the way." He says and all of those murderous thoughts inside his head come to an halt. "There’s no need to stop doing what you’re doing just because I’m here."

He wants to laugh in the forest boy’s face, but decides to shove it back down and manages to keep his expression impassive.

"On the contrary. I‘m very content with watching." A seductive little wink is send your way and Ao’nungs whole body tenses. Neteyams gaze then lands on him and Ao’nung suddenly knows that he wants him to try something.

Ao’nung has a temper. He‘s always had a temper, everyone knows, and Neteyam is just trying to be provocative, Ao’nung tries to remind himself. But now his temper already flares, bright and white-hot, and he almost doesn't care about a response, doesn’t care about what he could answer to this as long as it hurts, so he bites his tongue hard enough to taste copper.

It’s unfortunate for both of them, that Neteyam can’t seem to shut up, despite the fact that neither him nor you had said anything yet. He‘s confident in every word that leaves his mouth, not even caring about what the two of you would think of him as he goes on, "Oh, right, I almost forgot. Since your dear friend hasn’t told you yet, I guess it’s my duty to enlighten you."

One of his hands curls into a fist and he can't seem to relax it, before he realizes it’s your hip that he’s squeezing. Not hard enough to hurt, but he lingers for a long moment before he can force himself to loosen up. He apologizes with a fleeting kiss to your shoulder, making sure to hold eye contact with the man in front of him, like it’s two Pxazang‘s battling for territory.

"Ao’nung and I had a very nice conversation this morning, and he actually made the proposal to…", his lip curls into a dangerous smile, "share you."

Ao’nungs mind goes blank. He wasn’t prepared for this.

Share you? But he did not…

His mouth opens to object, but all words seem to fail him, his brain struggling to keep up with what was happening, while he simultaneously tried to understand what Neteyam wanted to achieve with this lie.

"If that is something you would want, of course."

There it is again, that act of fake innocence, pretending to be oh, such a good and caring guy. It breaks his heart to see it working so well on you.

You glance up at him with those nantang puppy eyes full of hope and anticipation, "You… You did?"

But there’s silence and Ao’nung just looks at you. He listens once Neteyam opens his mouth again, he has to listen because his throat feels too dry to speak.

"Oh, yeah", he responds for him. A white lie, like everything else he had told you so far. "He told me how good of a friend you are and that this would be something you would truly enjoy. And I know for a fact that you really deserve this."

No. No, you don’t deserve this, don’t deserve him. And sharing you like this was never part of the deal, it wasn’t part of the agreement to take a part in any of this, to watch his filthy hands touch you. Ao’nung was never one to share his possessions– he never talked about his feelings, he just acted, knowing what he wanted and going for it. That was how he did everything; with quick deliberation leading to a fast resolve, quite the opposite of Neteyams tendency to manipulate.

"You’re such a sweet girl, aren’t you? Letting your friend arrange this for you", Neteyam chuckles and Ao’nung realizes just now, how much you’re squirming on his lap. "Why don’t you show me just how sweet your are, hm sevin?"

He’s only playing a role, Ao’nung has to remind himself. As much as he prayed for it to become reality, you weren’t his. He was just your friend. But if being a good friend meant to participate in whatever this was, so be it. At least he could be here for you, take care of you even when you were in another man’s arms.

It was comforting, in a way. Comforting like rays of sun soaking into his skin, so much so, that he‘ll forget what damage they can do if he stays to long under her comfortable shine. He‘ll burn, sooner or later, feel the pain when it’s already too late. But it feels good now, so he tries to stop worrying about everything else.

The feeling of your slick rubbing against his thighs reached a point where it was impossible for him to ignore, even though it hurt to know he wasn’t the main reason for this.

His gaze never leaves its target sitting across from him, not even as he dips his hands below the waters surface and hooks the back of your knees over his forearms. The surprised little squeak you emit was kind of cute, he thought, as he lifted you out of the hot spring.

Your soft hands cling to him as Ao’nung makes himself comfortable, sitting down onto the flat rocks that enclose the pool of water, while he holds yourself up and open for Neteyam to see. Your legs are spread as far as they can go, and said omatikaya can be seen swallowing the salvia that pools in his mouth at the sight.

You were a piece of art; gorgeous, pretty and wet, droplets of water running down your curves, mixing with arousal that ran down your thighs. But you were also pretentious, greedy, and entirely spoiled and that was entirely his fault. And he knew how to play that card all too well.

Ao’nung nuzzled his nose against your cheek, up to your ear where he whispered, "You want him? Then show him", before licking the shell of your ear, making you shudder in his hold.

Even he felt the flush of dark embarrassment tickle up your spine, before you wriggled a hand free and lowered it between your spread thighs. A fingertip slid between your folds, teasing your slippery entrance with a quiet whimper.

"Don’t be shy", Ao’nung murmured, nipping on your throat. "C‘mon, tsawke. Be a good girl and put a finger in."

Nodding, you pressed your index finger against your slippery entrance, slowly pushing in to the last knuckle. Then, you wriggle a second finger in beside the first one, and start to ease them out together, then back in; a slow, slick push.

The moans that tumble from your parted lips are like the sweetest most familiar melody to him. To Neteyam, they are the reason one of his hands has disappeared below the surface, casting ripples in the water.

You curve your finger a little more and pick up the pace, thrusting them faster. The squelching sounds they coax out from between your thighs filled his ears, growing louder by the second. It was only overturned by the sound of his own ragged breathing, his heart thumping against his chest in the same rhythm his cock throbbed heavily, yearning for friction, for your hands to touch him, your tight cunt to wrap around his length and swallow him whole.

"Just like that, you’re doing so good", Ao’nung coos softly against the shell of your ear, "Look how much he’s enjoying the show. See what you do to him?" He tips his chin up and your eyes flutter open to get a glance of Neteyam. His ears are pinned back, eyes half lidded, with lips slightly parted and chest heaving as he strokes himself under the water. Ao’nung has to swallow back his own pride in order to play this role, yet he enjoys being the one that can touch you so freely while all Neteyam can do is watch as it happens. "He wants to touch you so bad", he chuckles lowly into your ear and your body decides to respond for you, hips canting forward to push your own fingers in deeper. "I bet he wants to know what you feel like, warm and wet around him. How tight you are. Fuck, if only he knew how good it feels whenever you come around my cock, the way you squeeze me. See his eyes? He’s hungry for you, tsawke. He wants to know how you taste like, too."

A helpless little whimper escapes you from his words and Ao’nung grins, the tip of his fangs sparking with mischief. "Should we make him watch, hm? Or do you want to invite him?"

"Nung", you mewl, plead with your eyes as you glance over your shoulder to meet his.

"I won’t do it for you", he whispers, tilting his head towards the other man with a sigh, "Use your words if you want him."

Your eyes follow his line of sight. Neteyam groans, then closes his eyes for a brief second and throws his head back in bliss, before he looks back at you with a dirty smile.

"What is it, hm?", Neteyam asks, "What do you want, paskalin?"

Your toes curl at the sound of his voice, raspy and laced with a certain type of hunger that could only be satisfied by one thing alone. And that thing is you. Breath hitching, you make a whiny little noise that almost sounds like a plea for the forest boy’s name, but that seems to be all you manage.

"Can’t get the words out, huh?", he chuckles, "That’s okay. Fuck, just look at that pretty pussy, doing all the talking for you. Look how she’s dripping, so eager to be filled, but your hands aren’t enough, are they? You need my help, pretty girl?"

Ao’nungs own fingers itch to help you out, to show him just how perfectly he can fill you with them. That there’s no need for this demons spawn here, that he’s the only one you need to satisfy you.

You seem to think otherwise, because you’re nodding quick and desperate, and Neteyam groans at the sight of your clenching hole once you had pulled your fingers out. A wordless inventions for him to take their place. So Ao’nung continues to hold your legs open wide as Neteyam pushes himself off the rocks and approaches slowly, gracefully walking through the waist deep water to stand before you.

With the way Ao’nung had hoisted you up and held you spread open as he sat on the flat rocks surrounding the hot spring, Neteyam didn’t even had to kneel or crouch to be eye level with what he craved most and the realization made him lick his lips in anticipation.

His hands find the soft of your thighs, caressing your skin before he placed soft kisses here and there, making you shiver in Ao’nungs hold. With his eyes entirely fixed on yours, Neteyam then runs the tip of his tongue through your wet folds and groans at the taste.

"Eywa, woman", he curses under his breath, then attaches his lips to where your slick oozes out in a clear, honey-like stream. "You’re so sweet, paskalin", it’s muffled against your cunt, before he withdraws and glances up at Ao’nung. "Does she always get this wet?"

You let out an impatient whimper and Ao’nung places a soothing kiss to your shoulder.

"For me?", he chuckles, the sound low and dangerous and he feels the goosebumps rise on your body. "Every single time, yes."

Neteyam grins. "Must be my lucky day then. Look how she’s dripping for me."

He takes his sweet time returning to you then, kissing and stroking everywhere but where you need him, but when he finally does, you gasp and moan as he nibbles at your clit, arches when he cups your ass and, with the soft sucking noises he makes, it felt he was drinking you in.

You moaned again, breathlessly, bonelessly, and your back arched away from Ao’nungs chest, or at least you tried to. Feeling so good, so stupidly happy, Neteyam then ran his tongue up and down your slit again and your moans turned into a wail.

He returned to lick and suck at your clit, alternating with a smooth up-and-down stroke with two of his fingers, teasing and circling your clit, then gently prodding them at your entrance.

"Mnnh– Fuck, ah, please, please", you whimpered breathlessly, hips bucking helplessly to get his fingers to slip inside, your head falling fully back against Ao’nungs chest. "Neteyam, p-please!"

But Neteyam only sped up, his tongue wet and rough and steady against your clit, groaning into you at the sound of his name from your lips, and pressing his face against your pussy like you actually taste of nectar or honey or any of those tooth rotting sweet fruit the Sullys enjoyed to eat.

Meanwhile, Ao’nung placed several open mouthed kisses from your throat to your jaw, enough of an hint to make you turn your head and claim your lips in a deep, hungry kiss. It was wet and filthy, just tongues and teeth as he devoured you, as Neteyam devoured your other set of lips.

You were moaning into the kiss, wanton and desperate, before finally, a set of fingers were pushed past your entrance and curled just right, while Neteyam kissed and sucked on your clit so passionately, Ao’nung felt the way your whole body tensed.

And then, then you were coming, bucking, crying out weakly even though it seemed you had no breath left in you. Shuddering and shuddering all through your body, shuddering between two hot bodies who worshipped you, who were holding you, staring at you like prey- beautiful, delicious prey, both of them so very hungry for you.

"Good girl", was murmured lowly into your ear, "Keep coming for us, c’mon let it all out. Let him taste how delicious you are."

Neteyams tongue continued to lap at your flowing arousal, groaning against your folds between filthy slurping noises. "Hmm, fuck. Is that all for me? So good, paskalin, you taste so good."

You kept your eyes closed and let the little tremors and aftershocks go through you, just breathing in tiny happy hums, because, eywa bless them to whatever heaven existed, they were both still touching you, gently and slowly. Neteyam kissing you softly, Ao’nung nuzzling his face into the crock of your neck, sucking on your throat, until eventually your breathing slowed, and you swallowed, opening your eyes.

Immediately, you were met with two golden eyes, looking up at you from between your thighs.

"Neteyam", you pant, "m-more. I want more. Please."

"Oh, do you?", he chuckles as he rises to stand on his full height, towering over you. "You’re such a cute little thing, so needy." He tips your chin up with a finger, then tilts his head as he grins down at you. "Think you can take both of us?"

There’s the sound of an audible gulp and neither Neteyam nor Ao‘nung himself can stifle a chuckle at this. You squirm in his arms for that one, grinding down against his cock that’s been trapped between his stomach and your lower back, making him grunt.

"I‘ll take that as a yes", Neteyam smiles wickedly, exchanging a look with Ao‘nung. He then stepped just a little closer, truly sandwiching you between them both before he hooked an arm under your thigh so Ao’nung could trace his hand down your spine and dip it down lower. Goosebumps run up your neck as his hand kneads one of your ass cheeks and then slides between them. Ao’nung expertly locates your dripping entrance from behind, fingers swirling in your arousal, dipping inside for good measure and he hums lowly at the sound of your weak little moans.

You’re always wet, always wet for him, beautiful and perfect, eywa, the way you just fit, it's like you plug into everything, everything that makes him high, incoherent, hard.

"You want this?", Ao’nung whispers into your ear, his tongue teasing your lobe. You clench around his fingers and give him a quick, desperate nod, so eager to be filled. He grins at that. His fingers retreat, covered in arousal he lets them glide between your cheeks to feel for your puckered hole.

"You want me in here, hm?"

Your whiny whimper of "Yes, please!" is completely satisfying to his ears. Your lack of surprise makes Neteyam realize you’ve done this before, and that mental image is a delicious one. One finger then eases into your tight hole slowly, fluidly. Neteyam watches with hungry, half lidded eyes as Ao’nung spreads you open on one and then two of his thick fingers, watches how expertly you take him in as he spreads your legs a little further to give the other man more space to work with. More slick is running down your pretty cunt, like a silent plea for him to fill it.

It's not long, though, before you’re squirming, the position you’re in making it impossible to push back against his fingers but they both know you’re trying to. It’s also not long until your moans turn louder, back arching, and you make a sound of protest when Ao’nung finally pulls his fingers out and deems you as loose enough. His cock is so painfully hard, leaking more pre-cum than he thought was even possible. He had to get inside you now, had to have you because in the back of his mind there still lingered this thought that after this, it could’ve been the last time he would get to feel you, to hold you, to fuck you, ever again.

So he wraps an arm around you, the other hand securing your thigh, while both of Neteyams hands hold onto the underside of your knees to spread your legs for them.

"Together then", Neteyam grins and Ao’nung can’t help but glare at him over your shoulder. Not even this situation could change anything about the grudge he’s holding against that forest boy.

A quick glance down your front reveals the sight of Neteyam pushing the length of his cock between your slippery folds, lubing himself with your slick.

The tremor that passes through your body seems more intense than usual, once you feel Ao’nung get into position too.

"Breathe, tsawke", he says, the tip of his cock nudging against your backside. You nod, inhale, exhale, and then they both push into you slowly, spreading you apart. Another whimper tumbles from your lips, your eyes squeezing shut and Ao’nung places a tender kiss to your temple as he slides further in.

"Good girl, just relax for me", he coos, "you’re doing so good."

For a moment it's too much, you’re way too tight and he thinks your body just can't reach that far, but then Neteyam seems to be fully inside while he slowly pushes deeper with minimal resistance. Neteyam groans, his grip on your legs tightening as he feels Ao‘nung move into place alongside him. You’re stretching around them both like you were made for this, and then Ao’nung glances at the space between your legs where you’re all joined, and there isn't a slither of space.

"Fuuck, look at that", the forest boy pants, smiling almost proudly. He gives the first languid thrust that makes you mewl. "That feel good, hm? You like being stuffed full of us, don’t you sevin?"

A whiny "Y-Yes", comes as a response, followed by a string of incoherent pleas for them to finally move.

"You sound so pretty when you beg, paskalin", Ao’nung says, granting your wishes with slow thrusts, making you feel every inch of him as he slides himself into you. Better adjusted now, your body welcomes him with every snap of his hips. Neteyam sets up a quicker rhythm, pistoning in and out of your body roughly, the tip of his cock brushing against your g-spot at just the right angle.

You flex your inner walls, squeezing his cock, until you feel him throb inside you with the change, moaning, and his gaze entirely fixed on where you are joined.

"Eywa, that little pussy is gripping me so tight. No wonder you kept her all to yourself. I wouldn’t share her with anyone, not even if she begged me to."

Their eyes meet for a second and Ao’nung’s breath is hot on your neck as he whispers, "you’re mine, aren’t you? He’s just lucky I can’t deny you any of your filthy wishes." Reaching to cup one of your breasts in his hands, he tweaks a nipple and earns a dirty little moan in response, your soft, velvety-like walls pulsating around their cocks.

"Oh f-fuck, make her do that again!"

Ao’nung was rubbing your nipples more roughly now, and your voice goes hoarse when Neteyam simultaneously thumbs at your throbbing clit. "Yeah, good girl", he praises you, thrusting into you faster, "so good, sevin. Shit, you feel so fucking good around me."

You’re close, Ao’nung can tell by the way you’re writhing, by the way your breath hitches when the tip of Neteyams cock brushes against your cervix, by the way your face twists with ecstasy when he fucks you harder, deeper.

He removes his hand from your nipple and slips it between your bodies, fingertips fighting for their place to rub against that swollen bundle of nerves alongside Neteyams, until your whole body is arching and your jaw drops.

"Nung", you moan like a prayer, "you’re– so big. M‘so full, gonna come!" It’s like you’re trying to finish him just with your words, and fuck, you might manage it if you carry on. His head falls to your shoulder and he presses his lips against your skin, then up your neck until your mouths are crushed together, a desperate thrashing of tongues and lips.

Words were entirely washed out of your system, your mind completely overtaken by the fullness of two cock sliding in and in and then all the way out just to slip back in, harder, tight body gripping and squeezing them.

It was all heat and pleasure. All those sensations, thoughts and emotions. Everything so close, but you just couldn’t reach it. Not yet. You felt like a puppet on a string, waiting for any of them to pull the right thread and help you to your release.

You’re right on the edge, right there.

The moment he breaks the kiss, Neteyam catches your lips in another, his tongue swirling around yours and a bitter part of Ao’nung hopes you still taste like him. If that is the case, Neteyam doesn’t seem to mind. His hips continue to snap hard against yours as he exchanges moans and spit through the kiss. It’s a filthy rhythm the both of them had set, various body fluids smearing between three tangled bodies.

Every time one thrusts in they brush over your pleasure spot, leaving you sobbing and writhing on their cocks, clutching on their arms so hard it hurts, chanting their names in between moans, hardly able to catch your breath.

"Let go, c‘mon I know you need it so bad", Ao’nung groans lowly into your ear, thrusting in just as the other man pulls out, which leaves you in a constant state of fullness, never empty for even a second. "Be a good girl and come for us."

It's a buildup of tension that arches your back and curls your toes and just when you think you can't take it anymore, something snaps. Your entire body tightens as you cry out their names, nails sinking so deep he’d be surprised if they haven’t drawn blood.

"There it is, pretty girl. Great mother, look at you creaming around my cock, gonna make me cum too", Neteyam groans, throwing his head back in bliss. He was thrusting into you so hard now, it knocked the very air out of your lungs, leaving you gasping for breath.

The little breath left in you was then stolen by a deep kiss, Ao’nung sucking on your tongue as he continued to pound into you, unable to think of anything else besides the way your walls tighten around his throbbing cock.

"Gonna cum inside you", he groans into the kiss, "Can’t hold back, I just need to fill you up, gonna fuck my cum into you and— hngh– shit!" He plunges into you, one, two, three more times and then comes with a grunt of your name.

Your legs were already shaking with the aftershocks of your own orgasms, twitching from overstimulation while Neteyam gave one last thrust, hips pausing, and then you felt it flowing— hot shots of cum pumped into you, filling you up nice and warm as he lost himself inside you with a low moan.

Ao‘nung wasn’t entirely sure if you could even hear him at this point, but he still kept the reassurance up anyway as they both gently lowered you back into the hot spring.

"Can't say that was a bad time, fish lips," Neteyam grinned, glancing at your relaxed face resting against Ao’nungs shoulder. Your eyes had fluttered closed a few minutes ago, as the metkayina man was carefully cleaning the sweat and other body fluids from your skin, holding you tight against his chest.

"Don't get used to it." Ao’nung warns in a hushed whisper, "I doubt I'll share her again."

"Wouldn't expect it. Worried I'll steal her away?"

"No. But I keep close tabs on what's mine," he counters, blue eyes cold as he watches the other man rearrange his loincloth.

Neteyams grin widens at this, and he shoots him a playful wink, "We‘ll see about that", before he leaves off to the village.

— ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ —

Ao‘nungs hammock might as well be carved from stone.

He hadn’t been able to get much, if not any sleep at all these past couple of days. Shifting restlessly, he’s forcing his eyes to close once more every time they inevitably drift open, but it’s not working. So he’s staring at the ceiling of his marui, at the woven walls, and out into the dark blue sky. It only makes his frustration worse. Days have gone by and now half the night has already passed, by the time he finally comes to terms with the fact that jealousy truly is an ugly emotion. But it somehow always reveals the truth. And it’s not like he didn’t already know the truth before. No, he knew.

He could joke about it all he wanted, whenever Tsireya made her teasing little comments about it. Could laugh it off and roll his eyes at his younger sister, tell her she’s just imagining things and that this is all just a means to get another man jealous. He’s just being a good friend. He turned these comments into jokes, because he‘s afraid to take anything seriously. Because if he takes things seriously, they matter. But it does matter. It matters so much, that it hurts now. Truth is, Ao’nung held his love for you so horrible discreet, that it was as persistent and almost as silent as bleeding from an unstitched wound. And now he was bleeding out. Painful and slow and irreversible.

Sharing you was a bad idea. Probably the worst he’s ever had, there was no doubt in it.

Ao‘nung tosses and turns in his hammock, unable to rest for any moment longer as his thoughts dared to consume him whole. Willing his body to get up before the sun was even beginning to rise, he found solace in the rhythmic crashing of waves down at the beach.

Ao’nung wishes that he could just have some kind of treatment to fix this problem. If only the tsahìk could cut his chest open and take his heart out to make it stop. Maybe eywa would bless him with a new one, one that wasn’t stained and stabbed and torn apart. Maybe it would take away the sick, knife-twisting pain he felt in his chest whenever he did as much as look at you. But in its own way, it was a good kind of pain. Like a constant reminder of just how much he was in love with you. How good it felt to love you. It was good, except for how it made him feel sick whenever you laced your fingers up together and squeezed his hand as though Ao’nung was something precious, something to be loved, and once again he catches himself wishing that you might ever look at him in the ways that Ao’nung looks at you.

It pisses him off to be reminded that he's supposed to be good at keeping his head, at keeping his distance, at not letting his lies consume him, the way that they're doing now. The way that they've done since this whole thing started. That this is all just a game of play pretend and you’re not really his.

Besides everything else he's doing that's completely unhelpful to this dilemma, Ao’nung’s overlooking one crucial detail: how can he stop pretending, when this is probably the closest he'll ever get to actually being yours, to you being his? How can he stop pretending when he's already made you this stupid, shiny little bracelet, because it would scandalize Neteyam in the entire, to think that Ao’nung and you are so into each other that you’re trading what could be mistaken as a courting gifts. And because it's the closest thing that Ao’nung will ever get to actually giving you a courting gift. He just has to take what little gifts he can from the world, right? So he can’t end it. He can’t end this arrangement. Not yet.

"Become my mate."

A simple statement. A straightforward question with a straightforward answer. But he would never actually ask that, would never receive an answer to this that wouldn’t hurt him, so he might as well continue to live in this perfect world that he lets himself envision.

Ao’nung turns the bracelet in his hands, thumb swiping over the carefully polished pearls. One of them sort of looks like the color of your eyes, as much as a simple blue pearl can emulate the deep ocean blue of yours and the way they sparkle when you look at him. The whole thing doesn't really capture your essence, it just made him think about you, and that's why he picked it out. He would give it to you today, he thought. He knows you would wear it for him, and maybe the thought of you wearing this for him, wearing something that would always mark you as his would make it enough for a little while longer. Maybe one day he would get his ass up and just ask you, would ruin your friendship just for the teeny tiny chance of you not turning his offer down. Maybe you would be his, one day. Truly his.

It’s when the first rays of sun begin to shine over the ocean, that he’s greeted by the sight of his own, personal warm solace. Sometimes that shines brighter and warmer than the sun herself. His ears perk up at the sound of you calling his name, waving your arms at him and a smile tugs on his lips. Always up early, he thinks, rising to his feet.

"It worked!" You squeak happily, jumping into his arms and Ao’nung continues to smile at you, albeit a little confused. You break away from the hug first, jumping excitedly and pointing to a piece of jewelry dangling from your wrist. He stares at it blankly, each breath making his lungs feel like they were filled to the brim with shards of glass.

His palm closed tightly around the bracelet in his own hand, tight enough he could feel the little shells cutting into his palm.

He knew this would eventually happen.

He could feel it in the back of his mind, lingering like a muscle he's held tensed so long that he can no longer remember what it felt like to be otherwise.

What Ao’nung didn't expect was, that it would be this soon. He really thought he still had time. More time. More time with you, before he would loose you to another man. Time to change his fate, time to–

"It worked! Neteyam courted for me, look!"

Ao’nung felt something in him shatter, breaking to the point of no repair. Breaking so violently that he wondered if it was possible for no one to have heard it. He felt it burn his skin, his eyes, the inside of his chest. Felt it burn like the sun burns, like it would burn if he tried to touch it. Ao’nung felt himself melt away and burn, and that’s when he reminds himself of the reason for the nickname he had chosen for you.

Tsawke. Because you are his sun.

And nothing feels as good and hurts as much as loving the sun. Because as well as she can make you feel good, as fast she can burn you.

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poppyseed1031 · 6 months

Text

Safe Haven

Series Part Listing Found Here

Neteyam x Original Na'vi Female Character

Warning: This story contains smut, violence & abuse (please don't read if these topics will affect you)

Some characters have been aged up. Neteyam in particular is 24.

Xilä is my own creation.

Warning! This part contains sensitive topics (one mention of miscarriage (not Xi) & Non-con touch)

Part 16- Li'ona

Scanning the interior of their home, Neteyam felt sick to his stomach. His eyes burned, prickling at the sight of its ransacked state.

It was almost disbelieving at first.

But reality slowly sank in with every passing glance as he stayed frozen at the threshold.

When bile finally threatened to make its way up his throat, he forcefully tore his gaze away from the crimson pool on the tapestry covered flooring. He didn’t want to think about where the blood came from- what caused it- or more importantly, whose it was.

None of it was real…right?

Please, Eywa.

Arriving back at Home Camp in an already frantic state, Neteyam had instantly noticed a change in the air. The energy was off- fear and panic replacing the usual calm peace of the Omatikaya clan. Ignoring it, along with the abnormal flurry of activities surrounding him, he’d hurriedly made his way straight for his tent, bypassing the clan members who lingered outside of his home in worry.

The sight he was greeted by caused him such utter distress, he almost collapsed, catching himself on a beam at the entrance- a heartbreaking cry of anguish falling from his lips.

Their mainroom was a scattered mess consisting of strewn cushions and blankets, torn and shredded tapestries and decor hangings, broken knickknacks that Xi had once carefully littered around their home. Baskets, chests, cracked clay bowls, pots and food sacks were all haphazardly knocked over- their contents either spilling out or completely missing.

Their personal food stock and quite a few other possessions were obviously stolen. The grand bamboo stand that housed his wide collection of weapons ranging from knives, daggers, specially crafted arrows and spears- was a splintered heap of broken pieces- all gone now, save a few smaller daggers.

And the bedroom- fuck…He wished he hadn’t mustered the strength to enter the space.

Their bedroom was just as bad- worse in his opinion.

It reeked of blood.

His little tech setup in the corner was completely destroyed- tiny parts smashed as if someone had a personal vendetta against the human-made devices.

And when he spotted the shredded strips of blankets stained crimson with a blood coated dagger abandoned between the sheets, his legs finally gave out- knees colliding hard with the floor beneath him.

Body shaking uncontrollably, a sob escaped him.

Why?

Tears of fury slowly stained his cheeks as his chin trembled.

Why?

It was too much.

Why?

He couldn’t do this.

WHY?

He was breaking- on the verge of hysteria.

WHY?

His mind screamed blame. It was all his fault.

Why did you leave her?

The knife.

What have you done?

The blood.

Look at all the fucking blood!

All him.

Why didn’t you kill him when you had the chance?

Gone.

She’s gone.

Xilä.

She needed you and now she’s gone.

He jumped when a hand of comfort squeezed his shoulder- breaking him from his spiralling thoughts.

“Come on son, up you get. Let’s- let’s take a breather from in here,” Jxo’s gravelly voice soothed.

Helpless, Neteyam allowed the elder to pull him to his feet, staggering in a daze as they made their way through the shambles of his home.

Once outside, he sucked in a much needed breath of fresh air. Air that wasn’t suffocatingly stifling him with its coppery fumes.

He collapsed again, sitting heavily this time onto the last of the stone steps- physically unable to make it any further. His head fell into the cradle of his palms, elbows digging into the tops of his thighs.

He sensed his father-in-law’s presence near him- knew he was probably giving him a moment to pull himself together. Neteyam felt it though, the worry and anxiety rolling off of Jxo in waves.

But how could he face the man? He’d failed his daughter- he’d failed Xilä.

“Jxo,” he eventually croaked, hands falling away as he tried to formulate a sentence. He swallowed hard to stifle another incoming sob. “Jxo, tell me she’s not- I- ” chin trembling, he shook his head in disbelief.

Was he going crazy?

Was this all some fucked up nightmare?

He made the mistake of looking up. Jxo’s distraught expression was all the confirmation he needed. The elder looked ragged and seemed to have aged even further in the short span of time Neteyam had last seen him.

Gaze softening, Jxo squeezed his shoulder again, crouching down to his level to face him head on. “Kid, listen to me, okay? We can’t fall apart, not right now. Our Xilä…she- she needs us,” the elder said, almost as if he were trying to convince even himself of his own words. “Yeah?”

“Y-yeah…yes, sir,” Neteyam nodded. He needed to hear those words. Jaw clenched, he forced himself to get a grip on his emotions. But the clear head he was searching for only intensified the swirling rage inside of him.

He wanted to scream.

To lash out.

To kill.

A voice calling out his name made them both get to their feet, expectantly. Jake strode towards them, brushing past a few onlookers- Gwuyle flanking him. The second-in-command barked at the growing crowd, making them clear the area, for which Neteyam was grateful.

He didn’t miss the subtle head shake Jake sent to Jxo however. He guessed that meant they hadn’t found his mate yet.

“Son are you-” The Olo'eyktan’s speech was cut off when his eldest shrugged his arm off, not wanting to be touched. Jake was expecting the reaction. The hurt and betrayed glare Neteyam sent him was justified. Lo’ak had already prepared him for the wrath to come. “Son I get that you’re upset, but-”

“Upset? Upset? Oh no, I think I'm more than goddam upset! She’s gone dad! My mate is GONE!” he screeched hysterically. “Tell me, exactly who’s bright fucking idea was it not to call me? Huh? Huh?”

Jxo pulled him back from advancing any further.

But Neteyam was too far gone.

He gestured to the open flap of his home, “Did you have a good look for yourself? Did you see? You must have seen what I saw…I don’t get it, sir. The moment you saw this you should have called me! You should’ve-” Neteyam sucked in a deep breath, wiping his palms down his face in not only frustration but utter despair.

His father-in-law murmured soft words that fell on deaf ears to the other two men, calming his temper in a way Jake wished he could in that moment.

He felt pained as he stared at his son, it was a parent's worst nightmare to see their child so distraught. It hurt him to see him so broken- unhinged to the point of feral. He exchanged an uncomfortable glance with Jxo who stood by Neteyam’s side. The elder was never in agreement with him, keeping Neteyam in the dark about Xilä.

“It was my call,” Jake admitted, owning up to his fault. “But you need to understand, there was a palulukan attack…two males managed to make it past the southern border- it seems they were leered. By the time we had it handled and found out about Xi, I- I thought we’d find her…you’re right, I should have called you. I know.”

His son’s shoulders slumped- the fight leaving him as he absorbed his father’s explanation. “Well shit. An attack? Was anyone hurt?” he asked, albeit a bit distractedly.

“At least twenty severely injured, a couple others not as bad…three deaths as far as we know. The healers have their hands full right now.”

Silence filled the atmosphere.

All four men internally digested the reality of the situation- the echoing of Jake’s words lingering in the air.

Neteyam pressed his thumb and forefinger into his eyes. “Okay. Okay- um, where are we with the search, sir?” He felt a stab of guilt for glossing over the attack, but there was only one thing on his mind right now, and that was finding his wife. He’d have to process everything else some other time.

“We’ve got twelve units still out searching- your mother has a team headed to the Hallelujah Mountains. Each of the border points are being covered as every tent, shack, shed and lab gets inspected- every nook and cranny will be searched. Lo’ak’s with Norm at the labs as we speak. They're checking the inferred maps hoping we could pick up on any unusual activity- the bad news with that is it only covers our territory. We’re trying to find some sort of trace for the direction they went before we move the search past the borderlines of the forest. Messengers were also sent to the nearest clans to keep a lookout.”

“Li’ona. That’s where he’s taking her. That’s where we need-”

“We don’t know that for sure, do we?”

“Exactly and why would he even go there? Don’t those savages want them dead?” Gwuyle frowned.

“Yes, but T'shteyo has threatened to take Xi back to Li’ona with him- she said he wants to return to his title.”

Gwuyle, Jake and Jxo shared matching grim expressions.

“What?” Neteyam asked, reading their body language all too well. “What are you not telling me?”

“You know Stephan right?”

“The weird techie?” Neteyam frowned at his father.

“Yeah…he’s missing, well his Avatar body that is. And so too that old RDA aircraft he used to fiddle around with,” Jake admitted uncomfortably. “It’s not like him to be gone for so long… We believe T'shteyo may have taken him hostage. Max is trying to get communication running with the ship to confirm.”

Neteyam scoffed disbelievingly. He wanted to cry all over again. “Are you saying…are you saying they’re flying in an aircraft as we speak….and you’re only fucking telling me this now?!” he seethed, taking a step forward, shaking off the Jxo’s hand from holding him back.

“Watch your tone son,” Jake snapped.

“Look, Teyam, we don’t know this for sure, okay? But we will find out…I thought he was just a primitive bastard, it seems we’ve all misjudged T'shteyo. I know I have,” Gwuyle said, trying to ease the tension. “I’m going to head back and see if there’s been any updates. Call me if you have any news, Jake.”

When it was just the three of them left, Neteyam hung his head. “I should have killed him. I-”

Jake stepped forward and hugged his son. Neteyam resisted at first but it didn’t take much coaxing before he sagged against his dad, accepting the much needed comfort.

“I can’t begin to understand what you are feeling right now, but I need you to know, we are going to do everything possible to get Xilä back.”

“Neteyam. Jake,” Max greeted when they entered the link shack. The scientist sent a respectful nod to Jxo when he saw him follow them in as well.

“Anything yet? Stephan?” Jake asked, eyes immediately locking with the link unit that housed Stephan’s human form.

“Unfortunately no. Since the assumption is that he’s most likely piloting, we don’t want his Avatar shutting down right now. His vitals are all over the place though- he’s injured,” Max informed them, showing them the rapidly moving numbers and lines on the clear glass screen bedside the bed, “head wound, probably concussed.”

The room fell silent as they all took in the scientist's information.

“Well shit,” Lo’ak said, breaking said silence as he and Norm made their way over to the group from the connected lab.

“GPS? Where are we with that?”

Max grimaced. “It’s definitely busted. Greta over there is trying to see what she can do, and Phillip here, is trying to reactivate the chip that was once embedded in all the Avatars- if all else fails.”

“Chip?” Jxo frowned.

“Microchip. We can track Stephan if we’re able to reactivate it-”

“What is taking so long then?” Neteyam asked impatiently. He hated standing around. He felt like they were losing time. “I know where they are going already! Back to Li’ona, I don’t see why any of this matters. Why can’t we just go?” he asked his father for the second time.

“I can maybe answer that,” Norm replied quickly as glided on a wheeled stool. “Come check this out you guys,” he said, furiously typing on a keyboard.

A large holographic map appeared and Neteyam instantly recognized it as the same one Norm had shown him and Xi before.

“Li’ona is massive okay? Not the clan per say, but the land they occupy. It’s called D’asanii I know,” he said, nervously glancing at the menacing looking, arms folded Jxo, who was looming over him, “but we named it Little Aussie- as in it’s almost the freakin’ size of Australia,” he emphasized, widening the map so they’d see for themselves. “But the Deadlands in particular is where we have the trouble.”

“I do not see the issue here. Our lands are far larger, what about the Metkayina, they own most of the seas, no? You have found them easily before, and even other clans, your lot have done hundreds of studies on Pandora for Eywa sake! What is so different? Are you honestly telling me that none of our people know how to find their clan?! Do we have all this technology for nothing?! How about our elders? Have none of them ever ventured that far?”

Norm made a noise in the back of his throat as he shifted his feet uncomfortably. “Bud. I get it, and you’re right. But unfortunately we don’t have that information right now. I did thorough research when I was investigating the rains. We just don’t have it…Xi couldn’t even point out where on the map her clan could possi-”

“They are not her clan!” Neteyam roared.

“No- no, of course not,” Norm pacified quickly, nervously shooting Jake a pleading glance.

“Neteyam-”

“I’m sorry. I'm sorry. Just- just finish what you were saying,” he said tiredly, forefinger and thumb working at his temple.

“Look, all I’m saying is, I get that we’re in a time crunch here. I do- but…we don’t even know where to begin to start looking. If we can just wait to get a ping from either the GPS or the Microchip- we’d have something to work with instead of blindly going past the borders to search.”

“It would help yeah but technically we wouldn’t even need it,” Lo’ak pitched in. “If Stephan wakes before then, he could easily tell us what we need to know…what we’re up against.”

“Sure but do we even know for sure if it’s Li’ona they’re actually heading t-” Max caught himself, swallowing deeply before muttering a quiet apology when Neteyam cut him with a glare.

“I told you all already…it’s Li’ona! He’s taking her there. Why do I feel like I am the only one thinking logically right now?! You’re all fucking over complicating things!” Neteyam barked, patience wearing thin. “Standing around and spewing a shit ton of jargon that’s not doing anything to help the situation. Let me and a team head out for now, you can always direct us from there and we’d have covered significant grou-”

“No.”

All eyes turned to the Olo'eyktan.

“Neteyam. I know this is the last thing you want to hear,” Jake said, eyes pleading for his son to understand, “but they’re right about this. We need to be smart about the moves we’re making right now. We need intel.”

“Think about Xilä, bro,” Lo’ak chimed in, trying to help out, unaware that his words did more harm than good.

“Don’t you dare,” Neteyam seethed. “She is all I am thinking about!” he hissed. “I need-” he stepped back, the faces of the men gathered around turning blurry. “None of you could possibly understand what I am going through right now…none! And I am this close from blowing my fuse. So I am going to step away before I say, or do something I regret.”

“Listen you barbaric lunatic, I am telling you, if you do this, they’ll kill you, alright? Jake and Neteyam won’t let you get away with this. You're as good as dead. Just-” Stephan sighed tiredly, “just let me drop you off somewhere, dude. I’ll take Xilä back and convince them not to come after you. Can you- OWW shhhiiit!” The man’s speech was cut short when he was clobbered on the back of his head.

The junk of a ship they were currently being flown in, dipped, rocking shakily before it stabilized once more when Stephan scrambled to adjust a few settings on the holographic dashboard.

“Jesus fucking Christ! You fucking psycho! I am trying to safely fly us in an already unstable aircraft right now! An aircraft that requires not one, but two goddam pilots! Do you really want to kill the only person on board who can operate this hunk of junk! Hit me again. Hit me, I dare you, fucker. I swear to God I’ll crash us right now!” Stephan threatened, tail thrashing angrily behind him. “I'm pretty sure I’m already concussed from when you knocked me unconscious.”

T'shteyo, “the fucker” who had hit him, paid the dreamwalker no mind. “You talk too much,” he complained, dropping himself into a seat with a pained grunt.

Fiddling with a small pouch of highly scented medicinal herbs, a needle and thread and a damp strip of fabric, he began to tend to his still bleeding shoulder.

This didn’t go unnoticed by Stephan who shot him a smug look. “Xilä fucked up up real bad, huh? Broken nose, face scratched to shit, and icing on top of the cake- stab wound.”

“Quiet!”

Stephan snorted with a shake of his head. “Your own daughter stabbed you…don’t you think that’s messed up?”

“I said, SHUT UP.”

The silence lasted barely five minutes before Stephan was blabbering again- although he did specifically wait until T'shteyo had begun to sew himself up.

“So, I get that you want to go back to Li’ona, but uh, why? The rumor mill said you were a wanted dead man over there. Why the change of heart?” the Avatar asked, trying to gain as much information from the man so he could report back if he had the opportunity.

He grinned at the pissed off look on the Li’ona male’s face. “Come ooon dude. You’re going to kill me anyway right? Who am I going to tell?”

“Do you ever stop speaking?”

“I promise I will…if you answer me. Scouts honor,” he said, holding up three of his four fingers, confusing T'shteyo even further. Stephen found it somewhat amusing that the bastard was now staring at him as if he were the lunatic.

“I am going to reclaim my title.”

Stephan stifled his surprise that he actually got a response. “Cool, cool, cool. Leadership shit. I get it……But see not really, why not just go? I mean, why’d you have to drag your kid back with you?” he pushed again, mentally crossing all his fingers and toes.

“She gets me the title.”

“Oooo-kay…how?”

“Su’ko wants her.”

“Su’ko?”

T'shteyo begrudgingly told him about man, and all the while Stephan had to hide his disgust over the fact that was another psychopath out there just like the fucker, next to him.

This had him shifting uncomfortably now. Quickly glancing at the man seated in the pilot's chair beside him he hesitantly asked, “So this Su’ko wants her?” he swallowed. “Wants her for what?”

“His whore or slave…whichever.”

The Avatar clenched his teeth to keep from saying something he’d regret- to keep from messing up the progress he’d made so far.

“What’d she ever do to you?” he couldn’t help asking, voice far softer than the faux carefree one he’d been forcing before. “Why would you do this to her? She’s just a kid.”

“Enough!” T'shteyo roared. In a flash the tip of his knife met Stephan’s throat, threateningly sinking deep enough to draw blood.

Stephan froze, both hands held up in surrender. “Alright! Alright. Chill out man, I’m done.”

“Show me again!”

“I will just- will you drop the fucking knife, I can’t think.” He released a loud breath when T'shteyo sank back into his seat.

“Show me!”

“Okay, hold on, I’m getting it…Here- see, still on track for Li’ona,” the Avatar said, pulling up a screen on the dashboard that showed the small diagram of a map of Pandora and the illuminated coordinates they were currently heading to.

He was damn sure T'shteyo couldn’t read an ounce of English or even “human numbers” but it didn’t mean he was stupid. The asshole had enough sense to explain where he wanted to go, even showing him on the map what routes to take.

“Good,” the psycho grunted.

Stephan let the silence run for well over an hour this time before he tried to speak again.

“So that last question I asked- about Xilä…that was my final question. I swear I’ll shut up if you answer...colour me curious as to why a father would do this to his own blood…To what would drive a man to such decisions.”

T'shteyo unseeingly sighed as if he were a mother dealing with a petulant child, it was almost comical, given the situation. “What does it matter to you, why? I am going to kill you anyway. It serves you no purpose.”

“Well,” the Avatar laughed depressingly, “all the more reason right? If I’m dead, who am I going to tell? Think of it as my death gift.”

The Li’ona male stared out at the flashing sea of greenery below them as he considered the man’s question. He surprised Stephan for the second time when he actually responded.

“She is the product of hate…Xilä is- she is a constant reminder of the woman I once called, my mate…she,” he inhaled, “looks exactly like her,” he whispered, “beautiful, fair…but poisonous.”

“Poisonous?”

T'shteyo grunted a yes before continuing, “Muiä.” He snorted, “fair…Odd that she was nothing like the meaning of her name. There was nothing fair about Muiä besides her appearance, I suppose.”

“What was she really like then?”

“She was a coward…and before that, she was a constant nag…and a whore. Nothing ever made her happy- no matter what I did…Her father was Olo'eyktan before me. I fought. I won. It was me!

“Me, who claimed her. Me who claimed my rightful title. But it was she who was my downfall… She, who loved another…I never had her heart. I tried, I did everything…anything! But in doing that, she made me soft, weak.”

T'shteyo’s face turned stony, darkening at whatever memory haunted him.

“And then I found them. Together….Still? Even when she was already mine! They were planning to run away together,” he laughed maniacally, “....so I killed him…I killed her fucking lover. Strung him up for all to see that I was not to be trifled with. After that she learned her place, or at least I thought so.

“She behaved for a few years…and then Xilä eventually came along. I thought I did good, I thought she was finally happy. We were a family. But no. Even a child didn’t make the bitch happy……She still left. She still left me. Muiä’s out there, probably cursing my name as we speak. I should have strung her up with her lover…missed opportunity I suppose,” he mused.

Stephen, who was silent the entire time, too stunned to speak, swallowed deeply. Feeling disturbed, he adjusted a few settings on the dashboard, before responding shakily.

“So,” he cleared his throat, “so, you’re punishing Xilä…because- because you couldn’t punish your wife? Xilä has to pay?” Stephan frowned, not understanding, angry at himself for feeling a sliver of pity for the psychotic man next to him.

T'shteyo shrugged lazily. “If you put it that way…Now shut up. The next time you speak, I cut off your tongue.”

When Xilä had first woken to find herself curled in a corner of a strange, rocking room, she was a loopy, drooling mess. It took her almost two hours to gain her bearings and sit up, and another one to even stand on shaking legs.

The small rocking room had a large window. When she’d finally made her way to it, she released a ragged choking scream.

It was all coming back now.

The attack.

The stabbing.

The syringe.

The screams.

LI’ONA.

She was already scared and confused, but now- finding herself being flown away…she began to hyperventilate.

Li’ona! Her father was taking her back to Li’ona.

No!

Thumping steps alerted her that someone was coming.

Xilä turned feral the second T'shteyo entered the small space. With what little strength she had, she clawed and lashed out at the man who had taken her from her home- the man she called father.

It was no use however, one hurtling blow had her crumbling into a whimpering heap once more.

In a daze, she barely felt herself being dragged through a short narrow tunnel, until she faintly heard the furious and raged shouts of an unfamiliar voice.

“No! You’re going to kill her! If you give her that amount, she’ll be dead in seconds, you sick fu-”

Xi most definitely knew she imagined the howl of pain from her father being struck by someone else- the rocking room spinning the world away- body sliding along the cold metal flooring.

A muted scuffle of two blurring blue shapes played out before her while a trickle of liquid slowly flowed down her cheek, drops tickling the corner of her mouth.

“Blood,” she vaguely thought when the droplet found her tongue.

She didn’t fight when her father came near- she didn’t fight when he pricked her neck with another one of those lab darts- mind swimming as she felt that floating feeling again.

And she didn’t fight it when she felt herself sink into the darkness- head lulling until she went still.

“How’s Sal?” Neteyam asked hoarsely, eyes avoiding the abandoned meal in his lap. His mother had forced it into hands two hours ago and yet, it remained untouched. He couldn’t eat.

How could he?

He felt like a shell of a man.

Practically numb- void of feeling anything but simmering anger.

“Not good,” Jxo replied. “Wrecked. There’s no consoling her right now...D’av-” he cleared his throat, “D’avi’s with her, doing what she can.”

How could Neteyam possibly respond to that?

“You know, she’s always wanted another child…damn near almost did…three times. It wasn’t meant to be I suppose…But then you came that night, told us all about Xi, said she needed a safe place to stay, and I knew- I saw it in Sal’s face that night. And when you brought her the next day, well, that just sealed the deal. She was going to be ours, no matter what.”

Neteyam stared at Jxo’s profile. “I remember you told me that I had no clue what I did for Sal…”

Jxo nodded. “You brought home our second chance- a daughter. I don’t exactly know how to explain it, or if it even makes sense at all or if…but I felt it. I feel it in my soul. Not at first- not like Sal, but over time, some days I’d look at her and I’d- I’d feel the same way I did with my D’av. It felt like she was mine. My kid.”

“It makes sense, Jxo. It does…She felt it too, you know. It scared her. She didn't want to get attached. She’d- Xi told me once she pretended sometimes. Pretended you and Sal were her parents…she’d laugh it off and say she was just being silly. Then I’d see the three of you together and I knew she didn’t have to worry. She didn’t have to pretend.”

Jxo released a hushed laugh, covertly brushing away an escaped teardrop. “Ah that kid…” he cleared his throat. “She’s coming home, son. She is.”

Neteyam nodded mutely, head falling backwards, landing with a THUMP against the metal railing of the Link Shack’s staircase. He was reclined on a step, mindlessly staring out whatever he could see of the clan.

He’d been seated there for probably hours now. No one had disturbed at him at first except his mother. The others were too scared to be on the receiving end of another one of his outbursts he supposed.

Upon her arrival back from her search, Neytiri tenderly kissed his forehead, sad eyes conveying all meaning as she handed him a simple wrapped meal before heading through the door behind him.

Jxo came out a half hour ago to keep him company. Both sitting in silence until Neteaym had broken it by asking about his mother-in-law.

“How are you holding up, son? And don’t give me that bullshit you’ve been giving your mother. I want the truth.”

A small smile graced Neteyam’s lips, falling away just as fast. “The truth…”

“Can’t keep it all bottled up. It’s going to eat you alive.”

“I think I’m falling apart, but I know I need to hold it together…I’m pissed…and angry…at everyone. She needed our help, and we weren’t- I’m mostly angry at myself though…If I had just been here, Jxo. If I hadn't left…” he squeezed his eyes shut. “And now,” he continued, puffy, red rimmed gaze peering at his father-in-law, “we’re doing nothing. Nothing, just- just sitting here while she-”

Fists balled on top his thighs, Neteyam shook in fury- emotions rolling and changing in waves.

“Li’ona, we need to head for Li’ona and no one is fucking listening to me! We’re wasting time, Jxo. Anything could be happening to her right now. I try not to let my imagination and fears run wild, but God-”

He rubbed his face, head bowed in distress.

“And they won’t let me leave! They won’t let me try! Why won’t you let me try? It’s been so long now, Jxo. I- I just want her home. I want her safe…So, no. I’m not holding up at all,” he finished.

Almost six hours ago he had tried and failed to make his way out of the clan. When he’d left the labs after his last outburst, he’d had enough. He was tired of waiting. He was going to get his woman dammit.

But Gwuyle had stopped him at the border- had called his father as if he were some rebellious teenager trying to sneak out.

And they did come for him- Jake and Jxo, both saying words of comfort or maybe trying to tell him it was dangerous and why he shouldn’t go alone- that it wasn’t safe- he didn’t know. He didn’t hear a lick of it.

So now here he was.

Waiting.

After another hour of sitting in silence with Jxo, a cry of, “Holy shit!” got their attention. Both men scrambled as a commotion of chatter and activity echoed behind them.

Inside, the link shack, and the open floor of the labs it was joined with, was a frantic mess of human, Avatar and Na’vi bodies, and there, surrounded, was Stephan.

He was awake. Sat up on his open link unit, the scrawny human man with slightly greying hair and an odd mustache was choking back water as if he were dying of thirst.

Neteyam hadn’t had very much interaction with the technician before. He knew the man could be a bit…much sometimes, knew he was an eccentric, “curses like a sailor”, herb smoking genius.

Making his way to the front of those gathered, he tried to tame his impatience. Just when he was about to launch into questions, Stephan beat him to it- turning the room silent as he spewed words a mile a minute.

“That fucker is a goddam, motherfucking psychopath! He’s got me flying to Li’ona of all places. We’re stopped for the night right now near the Johkadah crater. I managed to get him to stop under the guise that the ship was overheating- which it was, piece of crap,” he muttered, “It’s going to be eclipse soon though and the dummy still wants us to push through- he’s lucky we even have the fuel,” he said, reaching for the tablet in Max’s hands, punching a few buttons.

“You guys should thank me, call me the asshole whisperer if you will. I got that idiot to tell me shit you’d never believe. He told me where their village is- two clicks from the border of the Dead Forest- north east. That’s where we’re heading. He’s got a hoard load of shit with him too- food, weapons, medicine.”

His eyes met Neteyam’s amongst the people surrounding him. “He’s trading her- Xilä, for his title…this Su’ko fucker or whatever- leader of the savages who overthrew him- he’s giving her to him…It’s not good.”

Neteyam clenched his jaw, suddenly unable to speak. He felt his mother’s arms wrap around him as he processed the techie's words.

“Xilä?” Jxo asked. “Is she injured? There was blood all over the place.”

The scrawny man nodded, “I tried, but he won’t let me go near to check on her…from what I’ve seen, she’s banged up but the good news is, I’d bet most of that blood you found was T'shteyo’s. She stabbed him, broke his nose…she did real good. Real badass, if you ask me. When she woke up for the first time, she fought hard- but he drugged her again, stuck with a sedative. I had to fight him when he…almost overdosed her.”

The link shake grew quiet.

“He drugged her? Where’d he even get that shit?” Lo’ak asked, wide-eyed. “The labs?”

“Nah, took ‘em off the Doc who tended to him after he got the crap beaten out of him. Apparently they had to keep him under most of the time.”

“Stephan, can you stall him where you are right now? We can make it to the crater in a day or two,” Jake interrupted.

Stephan nodded. “I can try, but I don’t think it’ll do any good. I pushed him too far I think, he’s been wanting to cut off my tongue,” he shared with a shudder. “I can’t stay too long. I don’t think he knows I can communicate with you guys, but I also don’t want him to figure it out if he tries to wake my Avatar and thinks I'm dead. You lot need to hurry the fuck up and come get us, yeah?”

“That’s the plan,” the Olo'eyktan responded in agreement.

“Oh right, wait there’s something else,” Stephan mumbled as he quickly began to stuff his mouth with the meal an assistant handed him. “The ship keeps sending me these warnings…the place we’re headed to, the heat readings are off the fucking chart. So, if I can’t stall- if we end up there…prepare yourself. Loincloths or a Tee and cargo shorts,” he said, gesturing to Norm’s Avatar appearance, “aren’t going to cut it.”

“Okay, good to know, thanks. Max, Norm talk to him- I want that GPS up and running,” Jake ordered. “You’re doing a hell of a job brother, thank you,” he said before stepping away from the crowd as he paged Gwuyle, immediately giving instructions for their warriors to assemble.

When Stephan was finished and began getting ready to lay back into the machine, Neteyam approached him before Max could close it.

“Stephan…thank you, for-”

“Hey man, nah, it’s no biggie…your girl, she’s real tough shit…she’ll be home soon.”

Neteyam nodded. “You too brother.”

“I’d call dibs to kill T'shteyo, but something tells me there’s a line,” Stephan joked.

Neteyam followed his gaze around the room, finding Jxo, Lo’ak and his mother who were in deep conversation- plans being set in motion. Spider was there too, now showing Norm and two lab technicians something on a map as they all seemed to be nodding in agreement.

Gwuyle strode in just then, flanked by a fierce looking Leati and two council members.

“There’s a line alright,” Neteyam nodded. “Keep an eye on her for me, will you?”

“I’ll do my damn best,” Stephan assured just before the link bed closed shut with a beep.

Lo’ak made his way over. “You ready, bro?”

“Fuck yes…my lucky dagger suddenly has a date with two pieces of shit.”

“Two?”

“Oh yeah, I also want the one they call, Su’ko.”

Xi squinted from the harsh, red tinged glare when the door of the ship opened. She huddled further into the blanket wrapped around her when the sting of the brutal weather hit her.

Li’ona.

It had only taken them a few days of constant travel by the human-made flying contraption.

She frowned at a tied up and unconscious Stephan whose body slumped in his seat. T'shteyo had knocked him out with a heavy handed swing and Xilä prayed that he wasn’t dead and was back home, safe.

“It’s not too late to leave…please don’t do this,” she pleaded when she saw T'shteyo’s fleeting pause of hesitancy as he stared out at the vast lands- his lower face completely hidden by cloth.

“Don’t,” her father hissed, tugging on the end of the rope that kept her hands bound- making her cry out as the ties sank deeper into her skin. “One more peep out of you and I swear I’ll rip your tongue out…Understood?”

She nodded mutely, head bowed in submission.

With another forceful jerk of the rope, he led them onwards- towards the empty ruins of a land.

She had no choice but to begrudgingly follow- hissing the moment they stepped onto the dry land. The ground was scorching beneath her booted feet. Even T'shteyo released a surprised grunt when his own covered heels left the cool platform of the ship.

Xi didn’t know if it was because she’d been gone for so long or what, but somehow it seemed worse than before. The air was sweltering- blisteringly sweltering. It was almost difficult to breathe through the cloth covering her mouth and nose.

T'shteyo’s long strides forced her to practically sprint to keep up.

The journey was long and grueling. Xilä cried silent tears the further they travelled. She wanted to go home. She wanted her husband.

Sweat soaked her head to toe, parched lips begging for water. Whenever she began to lag, her father would pull on the tie, causing her to trip a few times, uncovered palms burning painfully when she tried to catch herself from falling face first on the scorching ground.

Xilä couldn’t tell whether it had been minutes, hours or days. She followed blindly, feeling somewhat feverish and delirious- and not just from the heat. Whatever foreign liquid he’d pierced her skin with, she was sure had left her with lingering effects.

Travelling through the barren lands, uprooted painful memories she thought she’d successfully stifled. She had failed though, because it was when they’d finally come across a familiar and horrifying landmark, her eyes began to water again.

That high and sharp jutting rock not only meant that they were near their destination, but it was also a reminder of the danger she was in- of the savageness of the people here- savageness far worse than her own father.

Kayoanaska was what they called that place. It was where they’d string up the treacherous- anyone who betrayed or were disloyal to the clan were strung up and left for dead. And with roaming, wild deadland beasts- not even a corpse would be left.

When they drew closer to the settlement that was once called her home, Xi’s brows puckered in confusion.

Where were the guards? Where was…anyone?

Entering the village was like walking through a shadow of the past. What was once a busy but suffering village- was now empty…abandoned… eerie.

Poorly constructed structures were either half collapsed or completely disintegrated- the brutality of the dust filled wind and weather having done great damage to what was left.

Xi wished she could have felt an ounce of sympathy for those who suffered here, but like she had told Neteyam so long ago, there was nothing left in her heart for them. They’d brought it upon themselves.

T’shteyo spun in a circle as he too seemed to be looking for signs of life. He snarled at the ruins of his home. What had they done to it?!

They didn’t have to wait very long before life soon found them. Both stilled when the ground suddenly began to shake. For a split second Xi thought it may have been a land quake, but then she spotted them.

Just in the distance, clouded by a storm of red dust, was a group of hooded figures. Cloaks flying behind them as they rode fast on their massive and terrifying beasts- the beasts who she knew reeked of decaying flesh.

Xi grew tense when they pulled to a stop some feet away. She gulped when the armed, hooded figures from her nightmares dismounted their skeletal, half dead creatures with ease.

They closed the distance on foot.

It was easy to recognize Su’ko. He was front and center, flanked by ten others. But it was the faux grand spear he wielded that told her exactly who he was. That spear had once belonged to her father when he was Olo'eyktan.

Four men broke away, rounding behind Xi and T'shteyo, effectively blocking them from any form of escape.

“T'shteyo…you actually returned,” Su’ko sneered in mock fascination from beneath the cloth covering his face- soulless piercing eyes crinkling with mirth. “You are far braver than I gave you credit for, fool…I admit…I have lost a wager then,” he snickered, making a few of the others chuckle in amusement also.

“Su’ko,” her father grunted in greeting, glare set on the man who’d cost him his title. “What have you done to my clan? My village! Where are my people!”

“Ahhh…so many, My’s. You forget they no longer belong to you…but fret not. They are safe. Sheltered. Loyal to me now since I did what you could not do, brother. I did what you were not willing to do.”

“Enough!” her father roared.

Xilä knew he hated to be undermined more than anything. Being perceived as weak was indeed her father’s greatest weakness.

“Fine then,” Su’ko agreed with a nudge of his head. “Why don’t you show us the gifts you’ve brought with you?” he gleamed, head tilting to roam over Xi’s hidden form appreciatively.

T'shteyo dropped the overstuffed sack he’d been painfully carrying to the ground- dust momentarily clouding around their feet before clearing away. “One of many,” he said, “food, clean water, weapons, medicine…just like you asked.”

Su’ko gave an ordering hoot, and at once, one of his men stepped forward to inspect the loot. He offered a fat water skin to his leader, who jerked his head at the man.

Picking up on Su’ko’s hesitation, Xi’s father growled a deep angry snarl. “It is not poisoned! If I wanted you dead I’d go about it very differently!”

But the leader was not deterred, glare still fixed on his underling standing in the center.

Hesitantly, the man uncapped the skin and drank, and drank…and drank. Xilä knew that feeling all too well- that first taste of clean fresh water. The sweet sweet, tear jerking taste. She remembered waking up in Mo’at’s tent like it was yesterday- her first time experiencing it. She remembered wanting to beg for more…but she never had to beg.

“That’s enough!” Su’ko roared, grabbing the waterskin away. He released the cloth from his lower face, baring his teeth in a sinister smile before drinking his full until the bag went empty. Grin wide and happy, he said, “You did good T'shteyo, very good…where’s the rest of it?”

“No. My title,” her father demanded. “You don’t get anymore. The rest is mine. I decide who gets what…don’t make me repeat myself.”

Su’ko raised a brow at his tone but said nothing.

A stifling silence filled with murderous glares prolonged until Su’ko broke it with humored huff. There was absolutely nothing funny to laugh at however, especially when his attention turned towards Xilä.

Despite the unbearable heat, a cold sweat rippled through Xi’s body as her breathing became erratic.

“Have it your way then, brother, if you must. But won’t you at least show off the most important thing you’ve got hiding behind you?” he asked, making all eyes focus on Xilä now.

“Did you not hear me? I want my title!”

“Now, now T'shteyo,” Su’ko said in a mocking tone, “The deal was, I get the girl and you get the title…so unless we no longer have a deal…” he sang, lips twitching tauntingly.

“No wait…wait…” T'shteyo tugged hard on Xi’s bindings, causing her to stumble forward. “Your whore…as promised.” He tossed the end of the rope which Su’ko caught with ease.

With a pleasurable groan, he yanked Xilä towards him, cupping her throat to give her a warning squeeze when she tried to resist him.

“Aww, be calm Petal,” he cooed as he pulled down her face covering. “She is wounded,” he spat in fury, gipping her trembling jaw tightly to twist her head to his liking. “I told you to deliver her unharmed!”

“Yeah, well the bitch put up a fight. You have her. She’ll heal,” T'shteyo said nonchalantly, making Xilä whimper in defeat.

“Ahh, I see…So she’ll need a bit of training, hmm? Doesn’t know how to behave just yet,” he cooed again, scarred face stretching into an ugly grin.

Xilä grimaced, holding her breath when he pulled her up onto her toes to lick a stripe across her uninjured cheek, putrid breath clogging her senses.

“Mmmmm, even better than the water,” he whispered for only her to hear. “Oh yes…yes, yes, yes. She will do just fine,” he said, releasing her, binding the end of the rope to the sheath tethered to his hip.

T'shteyo cleared his throat, jerking his head at the spear in Su’ko’s free hand, expectantly.

“Ahhh…the title…hmmm. Here’s the thing, old friend. There’s a little hitch in the plan,” he sang in faux sadness, eyes still roaming over Xilä’s petrified face.

She whimpered, struggling against his hold when he pulled her close to openly inhale her sweet scent, nosing along her hairline, down her cheek, tucking into her hood to sniff along her jaw and neck.

“No- don’t, please don’t,” she whimpered, tears stinging her eyes when his hand pushed through her cloak to trail up her hip, rough fingers palming at the exposed skin of her waist.

“What fucking hitch?! We had a deal you bastard!” T'shteyo roared, bringing Su’ko’s attention back to him.

“Did we?” Su’ko pondered sarcastically, “Hmm, either way-” he continued calmly- his cool tone contradicting the tense moment, “I thank you for your generous gifts, but you see, I seem to have had a change of heart. I have decided that I will be keeping the title.”

T'shteyo howled angrily, expletives rolling off his tongue as he advanced towards Su’ko, knives drawn and ready to strike.

But he did not get very far…

Su’ko laughed at his actions and turned away without care, storming back in the direction of the beasts that were waiting for them, dragging his prize along by the rope tethered to him.

As he refastened his face covering, he called out, “You may kill him now!”

Xilä pulled on her bindings, looking back in horror to watch as four men advanced on T'shteyo. He fought hard against his attackers, but they were quick to overpower him. Guttural screams echoed through the empty air as they brutally began to beat him.

“T-traitors! Cowards! Ev-ery fucking one of you! Weak b-bastards!” her father cried in agony.

“Wait!” Su’ko ordered, making the warriors cease their vicious actions. “I changed my mind…He does not deserve a quick death.”

The hooded men hooted in delight.

Su’ko peered down at a sobbing Xilä, “What do you think, Petal? How should we kill him? Hm?”

Without making her respond, he instead grinned at the sight of the crumpled heap of a man who was rocking and wailing in pain.

“It is settled then…Kayoanaska awaits. We string him up instead!”

The sound of retching filled the air and the putrid stench of bile caused Su’ko to grimace at his newly acquired gift.

A few of Xilä’s braids had gone loose, strands of hair sticking to her sweat slicked face as she doubled over for another heaving round, completely draining the contents of her already empty stomach.

Her father was dead…well not yet, but he was as good as. It was only a matter of time. Whether it was the heat or starvation…or the deadland beasts who’d most likely get to him first.

She’d seen them do it. Seen them strip him of his weapons before binding him to the jagged high rock, feet dangling in the air as he sobbed and begged for mercy. She’d heard his gut wrenching cry for her to help him as she wrestled and fought against the hold of her new capturers.

But he’d done this to them.

There was nothing she could do, and Xi hated him for it. She hated herself for still not wanting him dead. And as much pain and hurt he had inflicted upon her all the years of her life, as much as she still loathed him in that very moment for releasing her into the hands of monsters, she could never- Stop.

He deserved it…didn’t he?

“Disgusting shit! Send in someone to deal with this mess. I was promised a woman to fuck, not this infected, disease bearing flea!”

Su’ko sent her one last scornful glare before storming out of the small alcove he had shackled her in.

They were underground- a short ride’s journey from where the village once was. It was a dim, low ceiling cave which had probably been created overtime due to the many quakes the land had experienced. Or at least she thought so-

Xilä hadn’t gotten a proper look of it yet- she was too busy trying not to fall as Su’ko dragged her by the wrists through a sea of onlookers- clan members hissing and cursing at her as he paraded his new whore around.

They’d reached out cruel hands- hands that yanked off her hood, tugged at her braids and queue and snatched off the boots that covered her blistered feet. Her now exposed face showcased her frightened tear filled eyes and stained cheeks which only made them laugh in glee at her weakness.

She had tried to make eye contact with someone- anyone who'd show her a hint of compassion…but they all wore masks of evil- bared fangs, wild grunts and cruel words.

It wasn’t until she was tossed into an alcove, did all the events and bodily pain finally catch up with her, making her hurl and heave whatever little was left in her stomach.

A few moments after Su’ko left her, an old, shriveled water skin was chucked at her feet, along with a frayed rag and a small chunk of half rotting bark.

“Clean yourself up,” snapped the voice of a woman.

Xilä recognized it- it was Vhin, a middle aged Na’vi who Xi had come to despise over the years. She used to be a friend of her mother’s.

With a slew of curses, the woman began to clean the pool of vomit Xi had made. From a quick glance around, Xilä guessed this must have been Su’ko’s private space she had defiled.

“Better do as told, girl,” Vhin warned when she saw that Xi hadn’t moved from her slumped position on the dirt floor, crumbling rocks loosening beneath her. “The Olo'eyktan wishes to claim you after the feast.”

“I cannot be claimed, Vhin,” Xilä rasped as she levelled a glare at the vile Na’vi before her. “I am a mated woman. I am already-”

The older woman cut her off with an unimpressed noise. “It does not count…Su’ko makes the rules here now.”

“I am a claimed woman. I was bonded to my mate before Eywa-”

“Ha! Eyyyywaaa…” she drawled sarcastically, “Where was the Great Mother when we her people needed her? How many years- decades has it been since she’s shown her presence? We live like vermin! What has she ever done for us? Su’ko is Olo'eyktan now and his word is worth more than the mighty Great Mother. You’d be wise to remember there is no Eywa here anymore. He will take you as he wishes.”

Not wanting to discuss such a revolting topic any further, Xi steered the direction of the conversation.

“If you don’t have the Great Mother, there are other ways- there were other things that could have been done. Did you know help has been offered by the Omatikaya. If only my father was not so stubborn- Your Olo'eyktan, the people can choose differently. We did not have to live this way- you still don’t have too. My clan can help! You have a choice now, Vhin. All the people of Li’ona do. My mate,” Xi said, tearing up from just calling his name, “his father, Jakesully- Toruk Makto can save-”

“Quiet!” Vhin hissed, “You have been gone far too long, Xilä. I see your head has been filled with fruitless lies. Our people take care of their own. Remember?”

Xi scoffed bitterly, causing her ribs to ache. “No, they are too proud to accept help. Or maybe just too stupid.”

Vhin squinted at her as if seeing her for the first time. “You are different, girl... No longer the whimpering mess you used to be.”

Xi ignored her, choosing instead to break off a small piece of the cleansing bark near her feet. It was stale, but it aided in settling her rolling upset stomach and removed the rancid taste from her mouth.

“It is a good thing, Xilä. We need strong women in our clan, there are already far too few of us. Why do you think Su’ko was so eager to claim you? We will have a chance at a new start.”

Lip throbbing from talking so much, Xi said, “There is no us. I will not be here for long.”

Vhin laughed, amused, “And just where do you think you will be going?”

“Home. My husband will come for me,” she replied defiantly.

The woman shot Xi a pitying glance. “Oh you poor silly girl. Oh to be young and stupid again.” The harsh lines of Vhin’s face crinkled when she smiled, making her look much older than she truly was. “Clean yourself up. I will be back to ensure that you have. Don’t make me have to punish you,” she threatened.

Xilä released a sob once she was alone. Giving herself a moment to react to the situation at hand she wept as quietly as possible, muffling the sounds into her blistered palms.

She was terrified.

Not only had they left her father out for dead but Su’ko was planning to claim her- to mate her. She wept harder at that thought. She knew Su’ko would take her against her will, he was not one to reason with.

‘Please hurry Neteyam,’ she prayed.

All she wanted at that moment was to be held by her husband and to be far away from this wretched land.

Sobering up, she began to take note of her injuries, wincing when she touched the corner of her bottom lip. The dried blood on her cheek felt tight and itchy. Running a knuckle along the torn flesh, she felt relieved that it was only a shallow cut.

Her throat was still sore of course, it hurt to swallow her own saliva. She shuddered at the memory of her father’s hands squeezed tight around her neck. Xilä thought she was going to die then.

Sipping the water Vhin had left was a bad idea. It was murky and tasted more like slosh than anything- she spat it out instantly and tossed it away. She wouldn’t even use it to clean her palms, or cheek. Who knew what infections it could cause.

Xilä’s eyes trailed to the rusty old chain around her ankle. It was human-made of course. Probably looted from an old RDA turf. Xi noted that much of the contents of Su’ko’s space held several foreign items that Xi had never noted in Li’ona before.

It puzzled her because it was a punishable crime to have possession of such items.

Glaring at the chain that held her prisoner and unable to run, Xi grimaced at her poor ankle- it swollen and almost mangled looking. Angry harsh marks tinged in blood circled her cyan skin. Su’ko had been quite rough with her when he’d tied her up.

She had already tried and failed multiple times at releasing the bindings on her wrists. So, attempting to slip her foot free again, she wailed in frustration when she failed yet again. It didn’t even budge.

Over and over she tugged and pulled and yanked- trying to break free.

But nothing.

Slumping in defeat against the wall of rock she was held in, Xi prayed to Eywa to give her strength.

It had been an hour since two men dragged her from the alcove and tossed her at Su’ko’s feet.

Xilä stifled the need to cry again, she refused to let them see her tears.

She was tired, hungry, thirsty. Her injuries were no longer numb from a rush of adrenaline or maybe it was the muted effects of whatever drug her father had most likely overdosed her with- but she was in pain.

And then here she was as well, on display for the entire clan to see.

They’d stolen her cloak a few minutes ago- a soft blanket really. The faint lingering scent of home had been roughly ripped off of her and was now wrapped around some other woman who’d brutally beaten the one who’d stolen it from her.

Animals.

All of them.

Xi watched them all now from her perch between Su’ko’s thighs. She stayed eerily still as he played with her hair, occasionally breaking away from his feast of smoked fish and squashed yovo fruit, to nuzzle at her neck, deeply inhaling each time.

She felt revolution from his touch and naked in front of the clan.

Unlike the other fully covered women in their poorly sewn, weather appropriate- long ugly dresses, Xilä was probably a sight to see in her revealing tubed top and short skirt.

Men stared and women sneered. Su’ko on the other hand was downright delighted.

Xilä watched the faces staring back at her. They were gaunt, pale, sickly. Savages who fought each other over the food “Su’ko” had provided for them- the food her father had stolen.

Eyes roaming, she realized she’d been right. The cave was dim, low hanging so that taller Na’vi had to watch their heads while standing at full height. And while it was still hot, it was definitely not as blistering as the outside. Members were now free to reveal their faces or shrug off their outer threadbare cloaks.

“Pretty little thing,” a nearby member complimented his leader, grunting through a lisp- half his teeth missing. “You will share her, no?”

“But of course,” Su’ko purred, tongue darting out to lick a bead of sweat off her temple. “What precious gift we have here.”

Hoots and cheers echoed around the cave at the man's words.

“Oh, Petal. I am going to have so much fun with you.”

Xi felt herself shutting down. She screwed her eyes shut, blocking out the world around her.

“Come on Xi. You can do this. Let’s go again. Ready? Breathe in… out… In… out. Focus on your breathing…clear your mind before trying to find her.”

Xilä’s nose wrinkled as she tried to focus. “Ugh, it’s not working, ‘Teyam. I can’t do it.”

“Bullshit. Yes you can. Again.”

“It’s too hard, let’s go back to-”

“No.”

Xi pouted. She realized he’d crumble to her will lately- especially if she played it right.

He glanced away, nose flaring, sharp jaw clenched as if denying himself temptation. When he stared at her again, she felt breathless…she felt seen- as if she mattered.

What was he doing to her lately?

“Alright, fine. Come here then, let’s try another way.” He gently tugged her towards him, unlinking his legs as he helped her settle against his chest.

Xilä bit her lip, head tilting forward to hide her furious appearing blush as his thighs caged her in. He was doing this a lot now…touching her. It was innocent enough but she felt the hidden more- she liked it.

His palm covered the entity of her stomach, applying a small amount of pressure. “Breathe with me Xilä, feel how I do, okay?” he said quietly, pressing her flush with his chest.

“Okay.”

He whispered in her ear this time, puffs of warm breath tickingling her. “Breathe sweetheart. In…out…In…out…In…out…Clear your mind…in, before you sharpen your thoughts, out…In…out. What do you hear? In…out. What do you feel? Make the connection, Xi……Feel it?”

“Yes.”

It was indescribable. Since starting this particular lesson, it was the first time she’d felt it- the first time she connected with Eywa without Tsaheylu with the Tree of Souls. The Omatikaya were a spiritual people. Eywa was their way of life.

And now it would be hers too.

Neteyam linked his pinkie with her index like they always did of late. He nudged her with his chin playfully. “See? How was that?”

“Good…Beautiful. I didn’t think I could do it,” she admitted.

“Why? Don’t you see? There is nothing you cannot do, Xi. I want you to start believing in yourself like I do,” he said, lips brushing her flickering ear.

“I know. But this in particular…I thought Eywa would want nothing to do with me- it’s stupid.”

Thick arms circled her, hugging her close. “It’s not stupid…do you want to talk about why you would think such a thing?”

“I don’t, not right now anyway. Maybe another time.”

“Fair enough. Do you want to try again, or call it a day? Your choice, sweetheart. I’m feeling generous today,” he joked.

Xilä turned to peer up at her friend- gold clashing with silver. She felt that tickling flutter in her stomach again. The one that would sink lower into secret parts of her- parts that tingled and dampened. The same fluttering she’d feel whenever she stared at his sweat slicked abs or arms when she watched him train with his team. The one that made her weak at the knees when he called her “sweetheart”.

“Xi?”

She blinked, a beam growing on her face. “Yes, I want to try again.”

“Alright,” he tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear as they settled into the position again. “Ready?”

Breath in…and out…In…out…in…out.

Xilä opened her eyes- piercing gaze fiercely glaring into her lap.

The memory did something to her.

It sparked the fire she needed. Hearing Neteyam’s voice relit the hope she knew was slowly dimming.

If he were here with her, he’d tell her she was strong. He’d tell her she could get through this. He’d tell her to think, to plan, to be smart and to strike when they least expected it.

Xi could do that.

She refused to accept defeat.

She refused to let them break her.

So all of that just happened...My heart breaks for Xi and Neteyam rn.

This took a darker turn than expected...we'll see what happens in the next part...

I know that this chapter is a month over due, so again, I'll spear yall my sob story. I really do hate having long stretches of no update, really sorry lovelies.

Not going to lie but this chapter was a strugggggle to write. It's not my favorite and I'm not entirely sure I'm happy at all with the final result...but it's done, so *shrugs*

Special shout out to Tori who's idea's helped immensely. As well as those of you who would have sent an Ask. It honestly helped A LOT!

Feel free to share your suggestions of course and as always please let me know what you thought, since you know I love hearing from you all :)

Ps: Curious of what you all think of Stephan's character. Lol

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