Infatuation ✽ Neteyam Sully
wc: 1.8k pairing: neteyam x fem! human reader contains: just fluff <3 a/n: based off this request. honestly i’m not usually a fan of human reader x na’vi but this idea was very cute to me so I folded lolll
After years and years of what seemed like pointless trials and endless research on the chemical components that would successfully craft a serum allowing humans to breathe pandora’s air, you were lucky enough to be the first to try it out. You begged to be. The world outside the lab called to you, as did the voice in your head screaming to explore, the volume of it growing unbearably loud. The second you received the okay after taking the dose, you pushed out of the doors and into the world around you—breathing in the once toxic air. It was fresh, so much clearer than earth’s air, with a mossy scent of wood and petrichor streamlining through the breeze.
You wasted no time and bundled into the forest, shoulders weighted from your satchels filled to the brim with one subject notebooks and research logs you swiped from Max’s desk, a silent promise sounded in your head that you would return them in due time.
You hadn’t been careful enough, wandering into unmarked territory against the warnings of the scientists, when the body of a lengthy na’vi jumped down onto the overgrown forest floor below your shoes. He stood to his full height to leave you swallowing your tongue, eyes humorously wide and the lump in your throat bobbing nervously.
He looked down at you with such a piercing glare that your legs nearly turned to putty, his knife drawn but only pointed in your direction, not pressed to your throat like he would if you were a male. Human or not, you were still a woman, an unusually small one at that, and his mother taught him better.
His voice rumbled from deep in his chest, with an accent so thick you nearly had trouble understanding him when he demanded you speak of your purpose here, to save you from an untimely death he prayed he wouldn’t have to deliver.
He asked you a question that would require eye contact to ensure sincerity. However, his amber eyes wandered from yours, revealing he wasn’t at all threatened by you in the slightest, just perplexed. You answered frantically, your voice an embarrassing array of stutters while you promised your intentions were harmless, picking up the belongings you had dropped on the ground out of fear. He stared so intently, studying your much smaller frame, the way your features differed so vastly from his, the way you seemed so out of place yet you could breathe his air. You intrigued him— much to his reluctance.
He listened closely to your explanation, hard features and pursed lips softening at the sight of your trembling hands. He instructed you to leave and advised against coming back. He shooed you away and free of his hold with a tilt up of his chin, returning his knife back into the sheathing on his hip. Though he was out of your sight as you hurriedly made your way back to the lab, you were never out of his. He made his way into the trees and travelled from branch to branch, all the way to the edge of the forest to make sure you got out safely, something he would be doing more often than he expected.
From that moment on, you were more careful when you ventured out but a part of you couldn’t help but want to run into him again, and a part of him knew you wouldn’t listen to him when he told you not to. He could see it in your wondering eyes, an inference he made based on how you had stared at him like he created the stars with his own two hands, lips parted in awe when he stood in front of you.
You decided against telling Max and Norm what or who you had encountered, fearful they would revoke your field privileges, stopping you from ever seeing him again.
For weeks you’d plant yourself in the very same spot he spotted you the first time, childishly hopeful you would run into him again. And you did.
You asked of his name, eyes beady and beaming while they searched for any hint of a fissure in his stoic demeanor, your smile only growing when his deep voice granted you the privilege of knowing him. “Neteyam.” He spoke.
As time passed, you were increasingly less spooked every time he dropped in on you. Meeting him with a smile he now shyly returned, and an offering of some earth fruit he expressed interest in upon seeing it in your lunch box one day. Strawberries, or as he would call them, ‘the pointy red ones’. Aka, his favorite.
You wished you had gotten a picture of his reaction when he tried one for the first time. “Would you like to try one?” You’d said, holding the small red berry in front of his mouth and watching him take it from your hand. His cat like ears flickered with a newfound fascination as soon as it hit his tastebuds, eyes widened and blinking and tail swishing in delight. He took it upon himself to raid the rest of them from the minuscule container you held in your hands and shoveled them into his mouth like a kid in a chocolate factory, tuning out your belts of laughter.
And though he had seemed harsh the first time he saw you, it was only due to his innate protective nature. He couldn’t fathom why a feeble girl such as yourself, much less a human would be out so deep into the forest, especially without company.
So from that point on, he decided that he would follow you— just to make sure you weren’t disrupting any of the forest life with your research, of course. No other reason. You had never asked him to come along, he simply offered. He was more than interested in what you were doing and endlessly asked questions about the instruments you’d use to collect data, but unknown to you, he was mostly intent on keeping you safe. Because he enjoyed being around you, with you, and he couldn’t figure out why.
But it was apparent now; that Neteyam had developed a soft spot, an infatuation for someone who belonged to the very species him and his people despised. You.
The way he’d make the time in between the hours of his days to guide you through the forest, allowing you to gather rare samples without fear or collect those small, golden glowing flowers you swore reminded you of the dandelions back home. The day he kneeled in front of you, letting you place one between the plaits of his soft hair had been one you played over and over again in your mind while you laid in bed at night.
He’d sit with you, face to face on a blanket that was much too small to share with one his size, a curious finger prodding at your lip and hooking down into your jaw to pry it open. He’d peer into your mouth with a tilted glance as if he were a dentist, braids sweeping over his shoulders when he moved. “No fangs?” He’d query, making you giggle while your tongue swished around to find a comfortable spot around the intrusive finger. A wide, toothy grin would spread across his face at the sound of your laugh, his eyes lighting up and scanning your face to figure out how to make you do it again.
He’d hoist you up onto his back, more than willing to show you the parts of the forest you couldn’t see for yourself. Him leaping through the canopy trees and vast foliage while you clung to his body like a monkey would to its mother, giggling everytime a three fingered hand would reach around to check on you. Your unfiltered squeals and screams of excitement only made him jump higher and climb faster, almost like he wanted to impress you.
It was in the way he began bringing you small, hand-crafted trinkets or woven jewelry, made in your size to the best of his abilities due to his much larger hands. When you asked him why, he shrugged and said it was just a way of being nice— unknown to the fact that you’d read Grace’s old research logs where things such as the ones he gave you were noted as ‘courting gifts’ in na’vi culture.
The two of you would often relax together, perched on a branch, your back pressed to his stiff chest with his arms looped around to the front of your body. A blush would creep past your neck and to your cheeks when you’d feel his nose press into your hair, his breathing deepening while he took in your scent. He found it intoxicating, so new and foreign that he couldn’t help himself. His azure fingers would toy and intertwine with yours, amber eyes ogling the size of your tiny hands against his with utmost interest.
It shocked you, how intrigued such a fascinating being was with you, a normal human. Everything about him was so much more compelling, yet here he was, eager to get to know every part of you over and over again, seemingly conducting his own research.
His eyes had trailed over you while you sat with legs crossed in front of him, scribbling observations of the land down into a notebook when his hand reached forward to innocently tug at the strange looking clothing that always covered your body, his effortless strength nearly making you topple over. “Why do you wear all of these things? There’s no need, and they look uncomfortable.” His eyes big and focused, had he been a human boy you would have smacked his hand away at the obvious insinuation and probably filed a restraining order.
But Neteyam was different, everything about you and your kind was unknown to him. So you only looked up at him with a soft smile, finding his genuine confusion adorable. And even when you explained to him why you wore such extensive coverings back on earth, his eyebrows stayed furrowed, like he couldn’t understand it. The sexualization of the body was not something familiar to him and his people, and when you told him you faced dangers on your own planet because of it, you noticed his jaw tense in frustration.
After weeks of asking, he finally agreed to tutoring you in the na’vi language. He was patient with you, more patient than anyone your own species had ever been. He’d laugh heartily at you when your tongue would loll around in your mouth clumsily, watching your face scrunch up with determination while you terribly butchered the word he had demonstrated just moments prior. He’d shake his head to himself at your pouting when you realized you said it incorrectly, then pronounce it back to you, slower.
It was clear that in the short time spent with Neteyam, you had already won his heart. The way the rough pad of his thumb would smooth against the skin of your lips, taking note of how soft it was, and how they were pink instead of blue, like his. He had leaned in before you could realize, languidly brushing his lips against yours with a hum before pulling away. “Hm,” He cocked his head to the side and feigned confusion, the corner of his mouth slightly perking into a grin at your flustered appearance before he mimicked something he always heard you say. “I think I need to take some more samples.”
.
.
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sweet tooth | halsin x reader
❥ — PAIRING halsin x afab! reader
❥ — SUMMARY Halsin had been tiptoeing around your advances since you had met; he had made his eagerness clear to you but refused to follow through with it, always with something else on his mind. The more he opens up to you, though, the weaker his resolve is to stay entirely focused on other, supposedly more important matters.
# NSFW, MDNI: smut below the cut, outdoor sex, food play (specifically honey), oral sex, spit, praise, fingering, finger sucking
"If I manage to break the curse… perhaps then I can show you just how grateful I am."
Halsin had been tiptoeing around your advances since you had met; he had made his eagerness clear to you but refused to follow through with it, always with something else on his mind. The more he opens up to you, though, the weaker his resolve is to stay entirely focused on other, supposedly more important matters. It isn't until tonight that you notice it.
When you set up camp, you notice that he's put his tent quite a distance away from anyone else. You often found him in a location that was further from everyone (he liked his solitude, you assumed), but the space between your tent and his would make it seem as though you were strangers. From your place next to the campfire, you could hardly see more than an outline of the druid.
It's when he doesn't join you for food that you begin to worry - had he decided he didn't want to travel with you anymore? Was he going to leave without warning?
"Gale," you grab the brunet's attention after you finish eating, "thank you again for cooking. I was wondering: do we still have that honey? I remember Halsin saying he has a sweet tooth—I thought it might be appreciated."
Gale's lips quirk up at your question, a suggestive eyebrow raising as he answers your question, "I believe we do, you should be able to find it—unopened—in that trunk besides the other camp supplies. I hope you make better use of it than I have."
You try your best to ignore the implication of his words, but suddenly the camp fire feels a lot warmer and the cool breeze is soothing against your cheeks. As you walk off, mumbling a thanks, you hear a light laugh from the wizard.
With a jar of honey and a small satchel of berries (you had remembered picking them up a few hours prior, excitedly rummaging for them in your bag) in your hands, you stood a few feet away from Halsin's tent, trying to find the courage to start a conversation. Usually it didn't feel difficult; if anything, you found him to be one of the easiest to talk to. But with the thought of him no longer wanting to travel together—no longer enjoying your company—it was as though you had become enwebbed, unable to move closer.
It felt like you were there for tens of minutes before Halsin appeared from his tent, turning to look at you, a soft 'oh' leaving his lips.
If you weren't already stuck in place, you had become so when his eyes met yours.
"I didn't realise you were here, apologies," his voice is gentle and he steps towards you in the dark, "did you need something?"
You look down at the jar in your hands and will yourself to speak, "You didn't eat with us, so I wanted to make sure everything was alright, I suppose."
A beat.
"—And I remembered you telling me you liked sweet things. I wanted to give you this."
Halsin lets his eyes drift down to your hands, which were now outstretched, before meeting your gaze again. His lips curl up into a smile and you swear that you can see the stars reflected in his eyes. It hits you that, if he really is thinking about leaving, you might not get another opportunity to talk to him like this again.
"I don't know what I've done for a gift, but thank you. Really."
He takes a step closer, taking the items in his hands, as he continues, "I'm sorry for not joining you, my mind has been rather… preoccupied, and I thought it best to spend some time alone. I've also been enjoying the company of the stars: aren't they beautiful tonight?"
You shift your eyes to look at the night sky. A crescent moon hangs amongst a cluster of stars, stretching out across the darkness. He's right, they are beautiful.
"You said you've been preoccupied? If you need my help, you know I'm just an ask away," the sincerity of your words causes a small chuckle to leave his lips, gaze falling from the sky to his feet.
"Believe me, I would love for you to help, but that would be an unfair request."
The statement is slightly confusing; he seemed to have no issues asking for help with considerably difficult tasks prior. You could hardly fathom the sheer size of a task was if Halsin felt he couldn't ask for your help.
Betrayed by your expression, he lets out another laugh, louder this time, "you misunderstand, it's simply a matter of personal frustration. Unfortunately, I've managed to get rather pent up."
It isn't until you hear those words—'pent up'—that you realise the meaning behind them. You recalled him making an off-hand comment at the Tiefling party about how he was ‘sure that we could get out any pent up feelings'. He had never acted on his words, of course, but he had put them out there nonetheless.
"It wouldn't be unfair at all," your voice comes out quieter than you intend it to, "actually, I'd be more than happy to help and I think you know that, Halsin."
His eyes meet yours again, expression still soft and gentle under the soft glow of the moon. He takes a step towards you, so that your chests are almost touching. You don't break eye contact, newfound confidence surging through you.
He brings his face close to yours, peering down at you, “you’re sure it would be alright?”
You nod in response, his eyes momentarily widening before he uses his free hand to lightly hold your upper arm. His voice is a soft whisper when it leaves his mouth, “Gods, I can’t tell you how long I have wanted this.”
Halsin closes the space between you, drawing you into a kiss. His hand shifts from your arm to your cheek, the pads of his fingers are rough on your skin but they’re the last things you’re thinking about with his lips pressed to yours.
The kiss is quick, almost polite in its softness, and as Halsin pulls away, you feel your brows furrow.
“Your expression betrays you,” there's a humour to his tone, “would you like me to try again?”
You answer his question with another kiss, hands wrapping around the back of his neck and fingers tangling into his hair. It's deeper this time, more passionate, needier, and when Halsin's tongue brushes against your bottom lip, you're quick to comply with the silent request.
When you lightly tug on his hair, parting from the kiss, a low groan tumbles from his lips and rushes straight through you.
"You're good at this," his thumb brushes your cheek as he kisses you again. His kisses move down your face and neck, occasionally licking and biting at the skin until a shaky exhale leaves your lips. Your legs feel weak and every inch of you is warm, rushed heartbeat echoing in your ears; if you weren't so distracted you'd assume he could hear it.
When he pauses his movements, you take the opportunity to tug on his hair again, letting one of your hands fall from his neck to his chest, slowly getting lower, "just good?"
He hums when your finger tugs on his waistband, "amazing. Perfect, even."
You slide your hand underneath his shirt and he takes a sharp inhale at the contact. It had been so long since the last time someone had touched him like this; it had been longer since he had wanted to be touched—and to touch—so desperately. As you try to lift his top, though, he pulls back and gestures to the jar in his hand. You expect him to just put it down and continue, however you're left slightly disappointed when he breaks away from you entirely and opens the jar. His fingers dip into the jar, pulling out a string of glistening, viscous honey and bringing it to his lips.
You're left to watch helplessly, his tongue dragging from the base of his fingers to the tip and humming at the sweetness of the substance. It was impossible not to let your mind cloud over with images of those same fingers covered with your slick, dipping them into his mouth.
"Come here," it's a command, but it's gentle, easing you into doing as he says, "try some."
Halsin dips his fingers into the honey again, this time lifting his fingers to your lips. You take them in your mouth and run your tongue across them, enjoying the taste of the honey but entirely more focused on keeping your gaze locked with Halsin's. He lightly pumps them in and out of your mouth, cursing under his breath when you move your head to match the gentle pace.
You'd become used to Halsin being so composed and articulate—seeing him reduced to swears and fervent touches made you crave more of him, releasing his fingers and pulling him into another feverish kiss. You both moan into it, hands wanderings across each other's bodies: groping and grasping, trying to remove articles of clothing without pulling your lips away.
His hands land at the top of your thighs, tugging on them in a request for you to jump and hook your legs around his waist. He holds you in one arm with ease, using the other to tug at your shirt.
You kiss his neck, his grip tightening around you in response as his eyes flutter closed to enjoy the sensation.
"Please," he breathes out your name like a prayer, "I want you."
Leaning back, you stare into his eyes, kissing him again, "Gods, I thought you'd never ask."
Halsin puts you down and you rush to undress each other, sharing kisses whenever your hands aren't in the way. His body is incredible, and you're caught unashamedly staring from your sitting position as he tugs off the last of his clothes.
"You're really beautiful, you know?"
He smiles at your words, letting his eyes wander across you in a similar manner, "beautiful isn't enough to describe you."
When he gets onto his knees you can't help yourself from thinking of the sight as holy.
You watch as he dips his fingers into the honey jar and lifts them above your legs, letting it drip onto your skin like a gold glaze. It's cold and sticky but when he drags his tongue against you, licking the honey with it, you've all but forgotten the feeling.
His other hand, free of honey, lightly trails between your legs before stopping and running a finger between your folds.
"Fuck, you're soaked" if you weren't so eager, you'd be embarrassed. He had hardly touched you, yet your body was already begging for more.
He presses feather-light kisses up your inner thigh, taking his time as he follows and licks at the trail of honey, occasionally stopping to suck and nip at your skin, smiling when a soft gasp is drawn from your lips, "good girl."
Before he stops between your legs, he shifts to your hips and continues his upwards trails. You whine at the feelings of his lips around your nipple, lightly grazing his teeth against it while he thumbs and rolls the other in his fingers. You aren't sure if it's what he's doing or just him, but the touch is enough to make you moan, lightly bucking your hips into him.
"Impatient are we?" he chuckles, kissing back down to your thighs
When he's tasted the last of the honey, spread across the top of your thigh, he moves back slightly and watches as you squirm in anticipation.
"Did you want something else from me?" his voice is low and sickly sweet as he grabs your right thigh, rubbing soft circles in the skin with his thumb.
You nod in response, gasping out a slightly frustrated 'yes please', which is all he needs to start kissing again, trailing up the skin until his lips land on your cunt. He places one more kiss before using his tongue, dragging it upwards until it prods at your clit. You feel yourself throb under him, lightly bucking your hips forward as he drags his tongue in slow, circular motions.
He presses a finger inside you, thrusting a couple of times before curling it up. You moan under his touch, moving a hand to thread into his hair, desperately helping to create friction by grinding against his mouth.
His grip on your thighs tightens and he hikes one of your legs over his shoulder before slipping a second finger inside of you. It's overwhelming in the best possible way and when he leans back, only to spit on your cunt, you feel yourself clench around his fingers.
After a few thrusts, he lowers his mouth back onto your clit, flattening his tongue against it to lick and rub. His unused hand has an iron grip on your thigh, moving it so he could get his fingers deeper inside, curling them into you until a knot forms in your stomach. You instinctively grind your hips against his face, moaning as he begins to speed up. His actions are filled with need and when he feels your thighs twitch he takes that as a sign to continue, building you up to your edge.
You can only whine in pleasure when he moves his hand from your thigh to your abdomen, pressing down on it lightly. Your body twitches again and when he presses his tongue down onto your clit slightly harder it causes your thighs to instinctively close around him, bringing you to orgasm.
Halsin pulls away as you both catch your breath. From his position above you, he can’t help but think you’re the prettiest person he’s ever seen. He takes his fingers into his mouth and sucks them clean, sitting back onto his knees and taking his cock into his other hand. He strokes himself as you shift to sit facing him, legs weak and breathing still heavy.
Leaning forward, you replace his hand with yours before bringing him into another kiss. He grunts when you pull away, circling your thumb around his tip and pressing kisses onto his chest and neck.
“Are you sure you want this?” he asks, voice desperate and needy.
“Gods, Halsin, yes. I want this— I want you.”
You can barely finish your sentence before your back is on the grass again, caged in the druid’s arms. He pushes a knee between your legs and lowers himself to kiss you again. You’re ready to start begging him to fuck you when he moves to position himself at your entrance.
He doesn’t move, just lifts his head to meet your gaze with a teasing grin on his face, “I can’t give you what you want unless you tell me.”
You don’t care about your pride, cursing before sputtering out, “I want you to fuck me, please, Halsin.”
The reaction is almost instant. Halsin sinks into you slowly, gently, keeping eye contact until you’ve taken every inch of him. He thrusts into you, drawing out a whiney moan, and leans down to kiss and nip at your lips.
Your name tumbles from his lips, unrelenting as he grabs your waist to push himself deeper into you, “Fuck— you feel so good”
His full attention is on you, moving a hand so he can thumb at your clit while pounding into you. A broken gasp escapes you, tightening around his cock at the touch, which gains a low groan in response.
You're a writhing mess beneath him, hands searching for anything they can grab onto. Halsin slows his pace so he can adjust your leg onto his shoulder, leaning forwards and sweeping up both your hands into one of his. The position lets him hit even deeper, the feeling is overwhelming, unable to stop the endless string of moans leaving your lips.
His pace is relentless, only slowing to carefully adjust the position so he could keep thumbing at your clit easily. You lift your head and he meets you halfway in a kiss. He leans down to your ear, breathing heavy, and groans out your name, "I want you to cum for me."
Just the words themselves have you clenching around his cock again, but when he presses harder into your clit, already overly sensitive and stimulated, it pushes you over the edge again, moaning out his name. The sensation is enough to have Halsin on the brink of his own orgasm, pace stuttering slightly.
By Gods does he never want this moment to end, he could mistake it for Heaven.
Your name is all he can manage to say as he continues, pulling out of you almost fully before rocking his hips back into you. The hand on your clit leaves to grasp at your hips, pulling you down onto him. He can feel you throb around him, "I'm gonna—"
He pulls out at the last second, decorating your thighs and stomach with strings of his cum. The sight is almost enough for him to bring his tongue back down to your cunt, indulging in you more, but you're both exhausted and it takes everything in him not to collapse onto you.
"Let me clean you up," he manages between heavy breaths, moving away to grab a clean rag and wipe you down, "you're absolutely wonderful, I hope you know that."
Halsin leans down to kiss you; it's tender and gentle, you can't help but smile into it.
"I could say the same for you," comes your reply, "come lie with me?"
It takes no convincing before Halsin is lying at your side, arms wrapped around you. Any thoughts you had had about him leaving the camp are long forgotten and you can feel yourself begin drifting off in the comfort of his warm grasp.
reblogs are hugely appreciated ♡
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