[looking at people younger than me] you have your whole life ahead of you [looking at people older than me] you have your whole life ahead of you [looking at myself] its over
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pairings aged-up!neteyam x metkayina!female reader
notes arranged marriage, reader is the youngest daughter of ronal and tonowari (someone requested a ronalxtonowari daughter grieving ronalâs death hehe), opposites attract, reader is literally a mini ronal, neteyam is a hardcore yearner even when reader is mean and rude to him, aoânung and tonowari the matchmakers <3, smut (p in v), oral (f receiving)
synopsis hardened by the grief of losing your mother and fueled by the rage you have for both the sky people and the sullysâ who brought their war on your shoresâ you made it your mission to avoid them at all costs. unlike your siblings, you never softened up to them, and you loathed the fact that neteyam, their eldest, just wouldnât stay out of your sight.
That was always how the dream started. In your memory, the ocean of Awaâatlu was a perfect, piercing turquoise, but in your nightmare, it turned the color of blood. You saw the skimwing first, its riderâs face blurred, and then the body draped on the skimwingâs large body, unmoving and lifeless swaying rhythmically with the waves.
âMother?â you tried to scream, but no voice seemed to come out of your mouth.
You heard your fatherâs loud gasp, his feet moving instinctively. You watched him lift your motherâs body off the skimwing and onto the sand. Your father bellowed in pain and you fell on your knees, looking around, not knowing who to ask for help. Your mother was wounded! She was bleeding!
When the Tsahik is wounded and dying, who do you ask for help?
You saw the Sully family standing just a few paces away, their golden eyes wide with a guilt that wonât bring your mother back. Then you felt a hand on your arm and it felt so real. You knew who it was. Your head swiveled back and saw Neteyam. He was looking at you, his face etched with a pity you didn't want.
You remembered screaming at him then, but your dream was cut short when you bolted upright in your hammock, its woven ties creaking at your sudden movement. The smell of moss and sea attacked your nose, overpowering the smell of blood your brain had conjured during your dream, as if to completely horrify you. For a moment, you stayed perfectly still, waiting for the pounding of your heart to calm down.
You were nineteen now. The soft roundness of the fourteen-year-old that your mother will always remember has long yielded to the sharpened lean of a huntress. The same dream had plagued you for years and you knew your entire day would be shrouded with grayness. You stood and grabbed your spear, its blade carved from crystal coral.
You didn't look at your older sister who was still sleeping peacefully next to your hammock. You didn't want Tsireyaâs comfort, because it always came with a plea for forgiveness and understanding for the Sullys. The morning mist was thick as you made your way to the docks and saw that you were not the only one up. Near the edge of the water, a figure was preparing his mount.
Even from a distance, you recognized the way the man carried himself with a different strength and grace you donât see among the men of your clan. âYou're late for the patrol check,â you said, your voice cutting through the mist.
He turned, now a man fully grown, his braids longer and his stature a mimic of his legendary father. He simply tightened his grip on his rideâs harness. âThe sun hasn't broken the horizon,â he pointed out.
You lifted your chin up, looking down at him who is already submerged in the water while youâre still on the woven pathway. âThe sky people don't wait for the sun. I bet you know that,â you snapped. You tried to look past the way the morning light caught the patterns on his skin. The patterns you once thought Eywa had spent extra of her precious time on... You still think that, and itâs annoying.
âI understand. It wonât happen again,â he said softly. His voice had deepened over the years, becoming a calm anchor that usually soothed others. To you, it only sounded like he was avoiding an argument by placating you with words.
âSee that it doesn't,â you said, turning your back on him and walking to the other side of the village to dive into the water.
The cold water of the reef was the only thing that felt honest anymore. As you dove, the pressure against your skin comforted your from your nightmare. You spent the morning in the deeper currents, hunting for a silver-finned fish. It was solitary work, the kind that allowed you to sharpen your focus until the world was reduced to the tip of your spear and the shadow of your prey. But the solitude didn't last.
Breaking the surface for air, you saw them. A patrol of Metkayina warriors moving in a synchronized glide, and right at the center was Neteyam. Even among your own people, he stood out, riding his skimwing with a disciplined, military precision that is so distinct compared to the fluid nature of your people.
You saw his head turned, his eyes locking onto yours immediately despite the distance. You donât know why he's always had his eyes on you but you felt the familiar heat of irritation rise in your chest all the same. You know that your siblings constantly worry for you, your father even more so, and this heavy, watchful gaze from someone you know had always been the guardian felt like an insult.
He guards you on behalf of your siblings, you have long concluded. So, with a sharp roll of your eyes, you tugged your mount's reins and dove back into the water, leaving nothing but a mocking splash in your wake. Much later, you had returned to the village with a successful haul, but the grayness of your morning had turned into a desperate, hollow boredom and so you found Kxat by the mangroves. He was your second âinterestâ just this moon, a boytoy, if you will.
You donât even like him. He was simply a man with strong arms and a head full of empty flattery. He was merely a distraction, and more importantly, he was a way to watch your fatherâs forehead crease in silent disappointment and your brotherâs jaw tighten with displeasure. You are not your perfect sister, alright. You are just you, the one they left behind when they took on mature duties following your mother's death.
As you led Kxat into the thick shadows of the woods behind the village, you felt the thrill of the hunt. Not for any prey, but for a reaction. You pushed him against a moss-covered trunk, the air thick with the scent of damp soil so different from the smell of the salt air from the sea. He leaned in to kiss you and you kissed him back, his hands wandering with a clumsy boldness toward your chest.
But before he could fully touch you, the sound of a dry branch snapping under a heavy foot alerted both of you to a presence. You canât help but smirk as you moved your lips away from Kxat. Like clockwork. You pulled away slowly, smoothing your hair with a practiced nonchalance as you turned to find the intruder.
Neteyam stood ten paces away. His face was a mask of stone, his scarred and broad chest on display. He looked like the perfect image of a warrior carved from stone, unmoved by the intimacy he had just interrupted.
âYour brother is looking for you,â he said, his voice dropping into a cold clip. He didn't even spare Kxat a look, as if the other man didn't exist. He turned his back, ready to walk away.
âCanât that wait?â you called out, your voice dripping with honeyed venom. You leaned back against the tree. âYou see, Iâm having fun here.â
He stopped, turning back slowly, his eyes narrowing until they were slivers of molten gold. âNo, it canât,â he said, his gaze finally flicking to you. âAnd I doubt that. You looked nauseous.â
The insult hit like a physical slap, but before you could snap back, Neteyam shifted his focus to Kxat. He simply looked at him, standing there with the quiet, terrifying authority of a commander, a look that always reminded everyone that while the Metkayina were his hosts, he is still the firstborn son of fearsome war leaders.
Kxat, who had been acting so bold with you only a minute ago, withered. He lowered his gaze, his shoulders slumping as he wrangled his hands. âI... I should go,â Kxat stammered, not even looking at you before he scrambled away.
You watched him go with a sneer of pure disgust. Weak. Another one. You turned your fury back on Neteyam, who was already starting to walk away again. âYou have no right!â you hissed, stepping after him. âYou donât get to scare off the men Iâm with just because youâve decided to play babysitter!â
Neteyam didn't stop. He didn't even look back to see how angry you are. âI donât care who he is to you,â he said over his shoulder, his voice firm on. âIf he were half the man you pretend he is, he wouldnât have run. Youâre wasting your time on cowards who probably wouldnât be able to stand in front of your father and ask for your hand. Your brother expects you, princess.â
He left you standing there, your chest heaving with a rage that felt dangerously like something else. He was infuriating. He was so arrogant. And the worst part, the part that made you want to scream, was that he was right. All of those men were weak. No matter how many men you brought to the woods, they all crumbled the moment Neteyam te Suli appeared to remind you who you are to this clan.
You stomped through the village, the woven walkways yielding against the soles of your feet. You didn't care who saw your temper. The gray cloud from your nightmare had turned into a storm cloud over your head. You found Aoânung near the training sands, sharpening a set of practice spears. He didn't even have to look up to know it was you, the crass way you approached him gave you away.
âTell your watchman to leave me alone!â you hissed, slamming your hand against the wooden rack beside him.
Aoânung blinked, looking up with a confused frown. âWhat are you talking about?â
âNeteyam!â you snapped, pacing the small space. âHeâs a parasite! Every time I turn around, there he is, looming and acting like he owns the woods. Did you order him to watch me? Did you send him? Did you tell him to go find me and ruin my afternoon?â
Aoânung set the spear down, a slow sigh escaping him. âI didnât send him to do anything specific. We were discussing patrol routes. He just... offered to go get you. Itâs not intentional.â
âOffered to go get me?â you growled.
His eyes narrowed then, his protective brotherly instincts finally catching up to the context of your anger. âWait. You were with someone? Again? While the sun is still up?â He stood to his full height, his face hardening into an expression that looked like your fatherâs. âYouâre fooling around again?â
âOh, for the Great Mother's sake,â you groaned, flicking a hand dismissively. âIs it such an issue? Iâm nineteen, Aoânung. Mother was already mated and pregnant with you at this age. Iâm just living.â
âThat is exactly the point!â Aoânung stepped closer, his voice an angry rasp. âMother was mated! She chose a warrior of honor. You have no interest in actually taking a mate. Youâre just fooling around to make a point. You are a daughter of the Oloâeyktan! These worthless, spineless men do not deserve to even stand in your shadow, yet you let them touch you just to spite us!â
You rolled your eyes so hard it hurt, moving past him to sit lazily on a pile of woven mats, looking bored. âAre you done? Or do you have more rehearsed speeches about my virtue? Tell me what you called me for so I can go back to having fun.â
Aoânung went quiet. He looked at you, then looked toward the path where Neteyam had likely returned from. A strange shadow of realization crossed his face. âI... I actually didn't have anything urgent to say to you,â he admitted slowly.
Your head snapped up, your eyes narrowing. âThen why am I here?â
Aoânung tried to remember what had happened. Neteyam came to talk to him about the western reef patrols. He couldnât even remember how the conversation veered to you, but he remembered Neteyam telling him he needed to speak with you for some reason and when he said heâd talk to you when he sees you you next, the man had looked him right in the eye and said, âYou can talk to her now. I saw where she is.â
Aoânung tilted his head, his gaze lingering on you with a sudden, sharp enlightenment. He remembered how many times Neteyam had happened to be the one to find you, heâd practically lost count of it over the years. He remembered how Neteyamâs jaw would set whenever your name was mentioned in relation to the village boys. You had always been very restless, hot-tempered like Ronal, that Tonowari himself had long given up in his attempts to straighten you up.
They all have, to be honest. You were of age, after all. It was only Neteyam that seemed to still guard you, which is funny, because he doesnât even guard his own sister. A slow, knowing smirk began to tug at the corner of Aoânungâs mouth, a look that made you feel suddenly very anxious.
âWhat?â you demanded, feeling a prickle of unease. âWhy are you looking at me like that?â
âNothing,â he said, his tone suddenly much lighter, almost playful. He picked back up his spear, his anger seemingly vanished. He just found the perfect solution so that your âboytoysâ will no longer be a worry for them. It seems youâve already met someone who has the guts to challenge you. You just haven't realized it yet.
âWhat is that supposed to mean?â you barked, standing up.
âNothing. Just...â he looked at you again and stifled a smirk. âGo on with your day.â
He turned on his heels and walked away. If you want to keep fooling around, you might want to find a place where a certain Omatikaya warrior isn't constantly watching your every move. But he doubts such a place exists.
You were with Neteyam and several hunters in the next morning patrol near the reef. You were on a long range scout in the southwest, having parted ways with the team so you could patrol each corner of the reefs, when you heard the familiar groan of engines, a sound that always made you tremble in anger.
You gritted your teeth at the sight of a small gray vessel. A familiar large weapon on its deck, followed by a larger black vessel. They were too close to the tulkun calving grounds.
âStay low!â Neteyamâs voice commanded over the waves. He was leading the wing, his skimwing cutting through the water toward you. âWe observe and report. Do not engage unless they cross the reef line.â
Observe and report. The words grated in your ears and it made you tilt you head. You looked at the metal ships and sniffed, knowing that inside those metals were the same demons who killed your mother. Your vision blurred red.
âObserve this,â you hissed under your breath.
You tapped your skimwing into formation before it drove into the deep water. You have never been a rule follower, but you try. However, you canât possibly let a situation like this slide... your blood demanded a debt be paid. As the scout vessel turned to track the unusual movements underwater, you broke the surface, locking a spear into your thrower and throwing it with all the force your arm can give.
You saw it punch through the glass of the scoutâs cockpit, impaling the pilot and making the boat swerve violently. You saw four men with guns looking for where it came from. One of them saw you, but you didnât wait for him to aim his rifle, launching another spear, catching the man in the chest.
âY/N, back off!â You heard Neteyam scream, his mount cutting through the waters with lethal efficiency.
You ignored him to throw another spear for the man on the deck who was trying to deploy a sonar buoy. The kind that deafened the tulkun. The spear hit him square in the neck and you felt a grim satisfaction upon seeing him fall into the water, the water blooming into the same crimson shade as your nightmares.
Your trembling hands reached for another spear but a heavy weight slammed into your side. Neteyam had driven his mount right into yours! Before you could even look at him, his large hand had already gripped the reins of your skimwing to force it into a deep dive. You squirmed in protest but the sight of bullets piercing through the waters like lethal hailstones made you drive you skimwing deeper.
The muffled sound of bullets passing through the water above you made you look back to Neteyam, seeing him drive his skimwing faster to follow you. You both didnât stop until you were far enough, breaking the surface for air. But Neteyam continued moving until you both reached the shore near the village.
You were shaking, and you know that it didnât have anything to do with the fear, but from the sheer electricity of the kill. This isnât the first time, because you had killed a few before, in the battle years ago... But this, it provides the thrill of revenge.
Neteyam vaulted off his mount and waded toward you, his face no longer a mask of stone. It was a mask of fury. You saw his arm bleeding and your eyes widened. âNeteyamââ
âYou are careless!â he roared, his hands frantic on your arms, checking for any wound as if he wasnât wounded himself. He was literally heaving, closing his eyes to calm himself down after heâs checked your arms, chest, and shoulders for anything. âYou could have been killed! They had a turret tracking you!â
You were breathing as heavily as he does, shoving his hands off you. âI killed three of them! They were going to the calves!â
âI know,â he said, his voice calmer now. âBut you cannot risk yourself like that. You are the daughter of the Oloâeyktanââ
âI am the daughter of the woman they murdered!â you screamed, your voice cracking with the weight of grief. You stepped closer until his breath fans your forehead. âYou can hide behind your discipline, because I know that you're scared, Neteyam. You've been scared since the day you ran from the forest from whence you came. But I will not hide from the demons who filled the sea with my motherâs blood!â
The silence that followed was sharp enough to cut. Neteyamâs jaw tightened so hard you heard his teeth gritting. His gaze dropped to your mouth, then back to your eyes, his nostrils flaring.
âYou think I'm scared?â he whispered, his voice dropping into a low, dangerous rumble that made the hair on your arms stand up. âYou think I don't want to kill every one of those demons until they are all gone?â
He stepped even closer, his presence overwhelming you that you unconsciously stepped back, a move that brought heat to your cheeks. Shame!
âI am trying to keep you alive, you stubborn, arrogant girl. Because unlike those boys you lure into the woods, I actually know what it's like to lose a world. And I will not let you be the next thing the ocean takes.â
Your nose flared. âStay out of my way,â you hissed, though your heart was suddenly hammering against your ribs for an entirely different reason.
âI canât do that,â he said, his voice soft but terrifyingly firm. âAnd I wonât. I will not obey you.â
He turned away to walk, and you watched him glance at his arm, and probably only saw then the wound on his arm. You heard him hiss and your hands trembled. He is annoying. Infuriating and meddlesome and a parasite. But as you watched him walk with his arm bleeding, you felt a pinch in your heart and some anger for yourself for having caused that.
Neteyam made his way back to the village, going straight to the healerâs tent, walking with a bravado that didnât belong on a wounded man. He heard Loâakâs voice mingling with Tsireyaâs, hissing under his breath that the two had to be here at this hour. He was aiming for a random healer to tend to him, so he wonât be asked any questions.
He moved the beaded curtains and walked inside, making Loâak snap his head to his direction.
âWhat happened, brother?â Loâak asked, his eyes wide with panic as he saw the state of Neteyamâs arm.
Neteyam didn't answer immediately. He was standing like a pillar, his face still that infuriating, stoic mask even as blood trailed down his bicep. But the moment you stormed in, he whirled around, his golden eyes widening, flickering with surprise.
âGive me your arm,â you commanded, your voice hard enough to crack stone.
âDid you shoot him?â Loâak blurted out in horror, his gaze darting between you and his brother.
Your head snapped toward him, a snarl curling your lip, but Neteyamâs voice boomed before you could lash out. âNo!â
"Then what happened?" Loâak pressed.
Tsireya moved closer, her hands reaching for a bowl of clean water. âIt is a bullet wound. Thankfully, only a graze. Let me see it, Neteyam.â
âNo. I got him,â you said, stepping toward him and he met you halfway, his gaze never leaving yours. You reached out and Neteyam offered his arm with a heavy submission that made your heart stutter.
âDoes she even know how to treat that?â Loâak muttered, his worry making him bold. âShe doesnât have formal healer training.â
âShe is a Tsahikâs daughter, Loâak. Of course, she had training.â Tsireya whispered, before her eyes met yours with a soft, knowing look. âYou got it, sister?â
You nodded firmly and you gave Loâak a final, lethal glare until he withered.
âWell, then... I guess weâll leave you for now,â Tsireya said, her voice laced with a strange, quiet satisfaction as she grabbed Loâak by the elbow and dragged him toward the exit.
âWhat if she purposely causes an infection or somethingââ
âShe wonât do that!â Tsireya hissed, her voice fading as they disappeared behind the beaded curtain.
Then, there was only the two of you.
Neteyam didn't need to be told, he lowered himself onto the mat, and you followed, your knees hitting the floor. Up close, the graze looked worse. There was an angry jagged wound in his skin where the metal had hissed past, leaving the flesh raw. You bit your lip so hard until you tasted a metallic tang. You deserve that.
You worked in silence, cleaning the wound with meticulous care, your fingers, usually so steady on a spear, trembling just enough that you hoped he wouldn't notice. You applied the poultice, the cool herbs to make him feel better. You were so careful, so precise, treating his skin as if it were the most fragile thing in the world.
Meanwhile, Neteyam was so still you wondered if he were even breathing. He watched your face, savoring the fact that he was this close to you. You canât believe you were a little too conscious about it though, because you could feel his gaze like it was a physical touch. On your forehead, your cheeks, your lips.
Finally, you bound it with a gauze softer than it required.
âThank you,â he said softly, as you were cleaning the supplies. You supposed you were guilty... But in truth, you cannot shake off the anger you have for yourself right now that he was wounded because of your recklessness. You could barely breathe with how tight your chest feels.
âIâm sorry...â You expected the words to feel like stones in your throat, but you didn't feel the weight you expected. Instead, you felt a burn on your cheeks so embarrassingly hot that you couldn't stay a second longer. You didn't wait for his reaction. You stood up abruptly and bolted out of the tent, the beaded curtains clattering violently in your wake.
Inside the tent, Neteyam remained on the mat, his lips parted in a breath of pure disbelief. It was as if a tornado had just swept through and left him in the eye of the storm. He let out a huff of a laugh, his chest deflating as he leaned back. The anger he had felt on the reef, the exhaustion of the patrol... It was all gone. Just two words. You had given him two words, and he felt as though he were melting into the floorboards.
He closed his eyes, his heart hammering a slow, rhythmic drum against his ribs. He had spent years receiving the sharp end of your anger, guarding you, and watching you from the shadows. And now, as the warmth of your apology enveloped him, you got him deeper on his knees on the sand, ready to crawl for whatever you can give.
Remember that seed that sprouted in Aoânungâs head weeks ago? It didnât simply just sit there, it took root, and grew vines. Vines that now reached Tonowari, because Aoânung had not been anything but a constant buzz in his fatherâs ear, pitching the idea of a union like a trader auctioning a rare pearl.
At first, Tonowari had been hesitant, thinking of your volatile temper and the respect he has for the Sullys. He wanted a good match for you, yes, but the Sullys, no matter how long they had been here, living the ways of his people, are still his prime guests. Neteyam is the firstborn son of Toruk Makto. And you... You had not matured yet, not at all. You loved fooling around and the Sullys are a witness to your behavior.
But then, he started looking.
And he couldnât believed just how much he missed out on you. And on those who have watched you from afar. One quiet evening, Tonowari had been walking the outer docks, seeking tranquil of the tides when he spotted a figure sitting on the sand far enough that he almost couldnât recognize who it was. But he knew.
It was you, sitting there with your knees pulled to your chest, staring out at the horizon where the sky met the sea, the spot where your mother had never returned from. You looked small and for the first time in years, you looked like the fourteen-year-old girl who had lost her world. He felt a pinch in his heart.
He had been so blinded with your snappy wit, your laughter, and the temper youâd gotten from your mother, that he didnât see how lonely you were while he, Aoânung, and Tsireya all faced a bigger duty than they did before. He thought heâd done his part by making sure you were not burdened with duty and expectations... But you were certainly burdened with something else entirely and none of them had seen that.
Tonowari moved to step forward, fully intending to go to you, and give you comfort. But he stopped when he realized he wasn't the only one watching.
Neteyam was standing in the shadows of a nearby tree. His stance told him he wasnât going to approach you and he remembered how years ago, when Ronal died, Neteyam tried to hold you and you snapped at him... Blaming him and his family for what happened. Tonowari thinks that Neteyam seemed to know better now, but he was still there, leaning against the tree, his eyes fixed on your back with a look of such profound, aching tenderness that it made Tonowariâs breath catch.
From where he stood, he could see that Neteyam sees past the troublesome or wanton daughter that the village gossiped about. He watched the way you wiped your cheek, and Tonowari saw Neteyamâs hand twitch, his fingers curling into a fist as if he were physically fighting the urge to go to you and pull you into his arms.
The came the day at the training sands. Aoânung wouldnât stop whispering in his ears. He had seen it, alright, Neteyam at least. But he wasnât sure if Neteyam were simply empathizing with you, or if it stemmed from somewhere deeper in him.
He watched you stand at the edge of the training sands, ostensibly there to sharpen the blade of your spear. Both your father and brother watched from the shade of the pavilion as Neteyam led a group of young hunters through spear drills, his blue skin glistening with sweat, the powerful muscles of his back and shoulders rippling with every strike.
They saw the way you stood perfectly still, your eyes traveling shamelessly on the muscles on his broad back, and the strength in his arms. You were ogling him, plain as day, biting your lower lip just slightly when he lunged. But the moment Neteyam sensed your gaze and turned around, wiping sweat from his brow and offering a small, questioning tilt of his head, your face contorted into a mask of pure annoyance.
âWhat are you looking at, forest boy?â you had barked, loud enough for half the beach to hear. âCorrect your grip! Youâre swinging that spear like a clumsy child!â
Neteyam had only blinked, a flicker of amusement crossing his face before he looked back to his students. Meanwhile, you have sassily turned your back on him, looking over your shoulder probably to check if he looks at you again, and he did. He looked over his shoulder the same time you did. You snarled and Neteyam quickly turned his back like a child caught not sleeping during siesta.
Aoânung giggled. âYou see, Father?â Aoânung had whispered then.
Oh, Tonowari had seen, alright, and he definitely shouldnât have, for Eywaâs sake. He wish he had Ronal with him in this moment. He wondered what his wife would have done after seeing her youngest daughter practically ogle a man, and act like she doesn't know whether to kiss him or spear him. And the man? He is the only one who doesn't flinch when she screams.
Several days later, the village was gathered for the communal dinner. The smell of roasted fish filled the air and the fire roared at the center of the circle. You were in the middle of your rowdy group instead of sitting at the dais among your family, being louder than necessary and aughing with your head thrown back.
Aoânung sat close to Tonowari, leaning in as the firelight danced in his eyes. âWatch,â he prompted.
And so Tonowari watched, feeling a little ashamed with how invested he is with this. Neteyam was sitting with the warriors, his posture straight, and his face impassive. It was in moments like this that showed how beyond his years he seemed to me, a man who had grown up too fast in the shadow of war. He was listening to the warriors talk around him, but his eyes were fixed across the fire, just... watching. Something Tonowari and Aoânung are both so aware now.
They both felt stupid having not noticed something so obvious before, especially when Neteyam looks as though he is guarding a treasure he hasn't even claimed yet. He doesn't even look at any of the other girls this way. Not even the ones who actually try to get his attention.
Across the fire, you were in the middle of a story, gesturing wildly, but every few seconds, your gaze would break away from your friends, snapping to where Neteyam is, and for a heartbeat, your rowdiness seemed to vanish. Your laughter dying down unconsciously, your hand dropping to your lap. You realized you were staring and quickly rolled your eyes, tossing your hair back and snapping a rude comment to the boy sitting next to you.Â
But the effect was clear: Neteyamâs attention had literally made you behave. Neteyam looked down at his food, a small smile tugging at his lips.
âI donât know about you, Father,â Aoânung said, his voice a low rumble of conviction. âBut I see a match. And remember what Mother thought of him? Even when she was wary of the Sullys, she favored him.â
Tonowari leaned back, his massive chest expanding as he took a deep breath. He watched you. His youngest, his wild skimwing, and then he looked at the stoic, unbreakable young man who seemed to be the only one capable of clipping your wings without hurting you.
âNeteyam is a man of honor,â Tonowari agreed, his voice thoughtful.Â
Aoânung grinned. âBetroth them. It settles her, it secures an alliance with Toruk Maktoâs bloodline, and most importantly... it gives her someone she can't scare away.â
Tonowari nodded slowly, his decision solidifying. You, on the other hand, was blissfully unaware of what schemes were cooking in your midst. The morning after the communal dinner, you found yourself in the family pod with your sister. Tsireya was the image of Metkayina grace, her hands moving gracefully as she sorted through dried medicinal herbs. She was the good daughter, and sometimes, looking at her felt like staring at a mirror that only showed you what you lacked.
âYou were loud last night,â Tsireya said softly, not looking up from her work. âEven for you, little sister.â
âBetter than filling it with the silence of the absent.â
Tsireya paused, her eyes lifting to yours, shimmering with a pity that made you want to snarl. âIt has been five years, sister... Mother would not want you to live your life like this... She would want you to find peace. Perhaps even... a partner to share it with."
âI have plenty of partners,â you snapped, standing up and grabbing your crossbow. âAsk Ao'nung. He seems to have a list of them to lecture me about.â
âThose boys are not partners,â Tsireya countered, her voice gaining a rare edge. âThey are distractions. You choose men who are easy to break because you are afraid of someone who might actually hold you together.â
âI don't need holding together!â you snapped, your voice echoing as you stormed out before she could respond, feeling both irritated and guilty for feeling it.
Tsireya didnât deserve your anger. You had both lost your mother and she had to take on a role no fifteen-year-old was ever ready for. You stopped on the walkway, looking over your shoulder and debating whether to go back and say sorry... But you were still angry, and you think it wouldnât be so sincere to force yourself to do it now.
So you headed for the tide pools, needing the cool water to relieve the heat in your blood. But fate had other plans. Neteyam was there, knee-deep in the shallow water, repairing a broken Ilu pen. He was alone, his long braids slightly pulled back, his brow furrowed in concentration. As soon as you saw him, the irritation from your talk with Tsireya found a new target.
âWe have the people for this,â you called out, stalking toward the water's edge. âOr are you so desperate to be useful that youâve taken up the work of laborers?â
Neteyam didn't flinch or look up. He simply pulled the fibers taut and knotted it. âThe pen was broken. I have hands. It seemed a simple equation, princessâ
You stepped into the water, the cool waves splashing against your calves, and marched right up to him. You were shorter than him, but your chin tilted high.
âYouâre doing it wrong,â you lied, reaching out to swat at the rope he was holding. âThe knot needs to be beneath the crossbar, otherwise the tide will fray it. But I suppose a forest dweller wouldn't understand how the sea eats away at things.â
Finally, Neteyam looked at you, still not angry or intimated. He looked at you with that same calm, steady intensity that always made you feel so exposed... As though you were naked.
âThen show me,â he said, his voice low. He held out the rope toward you.
You blinked, caught off guard by his lack of resistance. âWhat?â
âShow me,â he repeated with challenge in his eyes. âIf Iâm not doing it right, then teach me the right way. I am a fast learner.â
You stared at him with narrowed eyes and he met you with the usual intensity, making you roll your eyes, grabbing the rope from his hand, your fingers brushing against his skin. The contact sent a jolt through you that you chose to interpret simply as annoyance. You began to tie the knot with aggressive, jerky movements, your breathing heavy.
âYou think you're so patient,â you hissed, not looking at him. âYou think if you just stand there and take it, I'll eventually stop biting. Youâre wrong.â
He watched you, his head tilted. He knows this. You are the daughter that took so much from Ronal. He knows you will not soften easily. He expects you to sharpen even more.
âI know whose daughter you are,â Neteyam said. He had moved closer, so close you could feel the heat radiating off him.
You didnât know why it made your insides shiver. You gaslighted yourself it couldnât possibly be excitement. But... He wasn't backing down, at all. And you know he will did and he never will. Most men in the village would have retreated by now, but Neteyam stood his ground like a mountain resisting a gale.
âI don't want you to soften,â he whispered, his voice for your ears only. âThe sea isn't soft. Itâs hard and dangerous. But it also gives life.â
You froze, the knot half-finished. You looked up at him, a sharp retort dying on your tongue. His face was inches from yours, his golden eyes searching yours with a terrifying honesty. âYou are a nuisance,â you managed to whisper, though it lacked its usual sharpness.
Neteyam let out a short, quiet breath that sounded like a laugh. He reached out, his hand hovering near your waist before he seemingly caught himself and pulled back. âAnd you,â he replied, his gaze dropping to your lips for a fraction of a second before meeting your eyes again, "are not as difficult as you believe you are.â
You let go of your half-knotted ropes and stepped away, the water splashing around you. âYou begged me to teach you, but you're doing everything but listen. Finish that. Iâll check it when I get back.â
You turned and whistled for your skimwing, your heart hammering a frantic rhythm against your ribs. You didn't look back, but you didn't have to because you could feel his eyes on your back, steady and unyielding, watching his treasure as it tried to run away.
The ride out into the open sea was supposed to clear your head, but all you could feel was the phantom heat of his skin against yours. How dare he move closer to you?! You groaned and dove deep, pushing your skimwing until your lungs burned, trying to drown out the sound of his voice calling you that stupid word you donât even know the meaning of. Princess. What was that word?
Heâd call you that for years and you had no one to ask. Your pride wonât allow you to just go and ask Loâak or Kiri about it... Especially because theyâd almost certainly know who had been calling you that.
For the next two days, you went out of your way to avoid him, which was nearly impossible in a village built on connected walkways. And now, you found yourself back in the woods at the back of the village, your path lit by the bioluminescence of the plants and the moon filtering through the thick canopy. You held Oânunâsâ or was it Ralu?â hand, pulling him closer to you. His hand wounded in your curly hair, leaning down so he could kiss you. Your lips curled before you welcomed his kiss, your ears tuning in for any unusual sound around you.
Raluâs hands moved lower to your waist, and you pulled away from the kiss, craning your neck, and just then, you saw a shadow detached itself from the darkness. Your eyes widened a fraction and you felt an urge to push Ralu away as his ragged breathing fanned your neck. You watched Neteyam stand there, a tower of solid muscle and silent menace, with his arms crossed over his chest. He didn't even look at the man you were with. He looked only at you, his eyes glowing like two orbs of sun in the dark.
Ralu felt the weight of that gaze before he even saw him and his hands froze on your waist. He looked over, saw the silhouette you were seeing, and his face went pale even in the bioluminescence. He looked at you and you rolled your eyes when you saw how heâs almost ready to bolt, and without a single word of apology to you, without even a backward glance, Ralu scrambled away. He practically tripped over a root in his haste to disappear back into the village.
Weak, you thought. You turned your fury on the dark figure still standing in the clearing. You walked to him, âTell me, warrior, do you take pleasure in this? Or is it just a hobby now?â
You remembered then what the hunters had been whispering. During combat drills, in which Neteyam is the head of, any man who he had recently seen in your company found themselves at the business end of Neteyamâs fist, hitting them harder and more frequently than anyone else. Now, he didn't need excuses to scare them away anymore; he has weeded them out quite successfully. No man in Awaâatlu wanted to be the next one whose âdefenseâ Neteyam pierces through with an elbow to the ribs.
You walked toward him, your heart hammering a frantic rhythm. You stopped inches from him, your breath hot against his neck, and pressed your palm flat against his broad chest. You felt the protruding, hard muscle of his chest jump beneath your touch.Â
âDo you want me only for yourself, warrior?â you taunted, your fingers curling slightly into his skin, caressing the heat of him. âYou stop me from having fun... you bar me from every experience. Do you intend to provide my fun instead?â You rose onto your tiptoes, your lips nearly brushing his jaw, challenging him to break.
But Neteyam was a mountain. He didn't move until you tilted your head to kiss him, and then his hand shot out like a vine, settling on your waist, his grip firm and grounding.
âDo not kiss me with the same lips you just kissed another man with,â he said. His voice was deep, and vibrating with a possessive rage that made your insides shiver.
You flared instantly, your pride screaming at the slight. You shoved at his chest, trying to wrench yourself away. âAlright! Iâll go find someone else then! Iâll kiss every man in this village if I please! I am an unbounded woman!â
His other hand caught your opposite arm, pulling you flush against him so quickly the air left your lungs when you landed against the hard wall of his body. âIs that so?â he asked. There was no humor in his voice, only a dark, palpable anger that felt like a storm breaking.Â
He knows he should feel ashamed with how possessive heâs feeling about you. But it was what he was feeling... And for the first time in his life, he wanted to be selfish. Heâs watched you for years, guarded you from your own recklessness... Heâs not going to let some spineless boy have what youâve been promising him with every look you throw his way.
He leaned down until your noses were a hair breadth away from each other, his eyes locking onto yours with a terrifying honesty. âGo on then,â he whispered, his grip tightening. âSee if any of them would dare.â
You opened your mouth to snap back, but your voice failed you. You were trapped between the tree and the man who had effectively cleared your world of everyone but himself.
At the same time back in the village, the atmosphere between Tonowari and Jake Sully was much more formal. Tonowari sought Jake out, and now, a look of grim amusement adorned the face of the legendary war leader as he listened to your fatherâs proposal.
âYou're serious?â Jake asked, rubbing the back of his neck. âMy son and your daughter? Tonowari, your daughter... She does not take well to my son. Youâre sure youâre not thinking of Tsireya and Loâak instead?â
Tonowari shook his head, stifling a chuckle. âI have seen it, Jake Sully. Believe me. My daughter... She has a strong personality. But Neteyam sees her, do you know this?â
Jakeâs gaze looked thoughtful. He knows that. He knows his son. âYes, he does. But your daughter... Wouldnât she be forced into this?â
âNo. She sees him, too, Jake Sully. Trust me,â Tonowari replied.
Jake looked out past the village, into the woods behind the mangroves, where he could just barely see silhouettes of two people, one definitely was his first born. You were stomping back to the village, looking back to Neteyam and seemingly snarling at him, but he saw the sheer amusement in his sonâs eyes. He was enjoying this.
He sighed, a slow smile spreading across his face. âAlright,â Jake said, holding out his hand to seal the pact. âLetâs see if they survive the announcement.â
You had only just stepped onto the woven floor, your breath slightly hitching when you saw your father and Jake Sully standing together in a way that felt far too intentional.Â
âGreat. You're both here,â Tonowari said, his voice booming with a finality that made the hair on your arms stand up.
âWhat is it?â you asked, shifting your weight. You gave Jake a polite nod but your eyes immediately darted to Neteyam, who had followed you in like a shadow.
As Tonowari laid out the arrangement, all the words hit you like a physical blow. âI I have spoken with Jake Sully,â Tonowari said, locking eyes with you. âTo secure the future of our leadership and to ensure the blood of our protectors remains strong, you will be joined. Neteyam is the firstborn of Toruk Makto, a warrior of proven honor. Your union will hold our people together against the coming storms.â
âJoined?â you repeated. âFather, what are you saying?â
âI am saying that you are betrothed, daughter,â Tonowari said, his tone leaving no room for argument. âThe ceremonies will begin with the next high tide.â
The silence that followed was deafening. You felt as though the floorboards had turned into thin ice, sending shivers up your body, not of anything resembling anger or betrayal, but of surprise. You looked at Jake, who was watching you with a weary, knowing sort of sympathy, and then finally, you let your gaze snap to Neteyam.
âWhat?â The word escaped your mouth. Again, not from the feeling of betrayal from your father.
You just simply couldnât believe it. You hadnât even thought of this as a possibility. Neteyam... Your mate. That is crazy. Jake watched your face. Heâs not stupid to not know your dislike of his family, of the chaos they have brought. Compared to your siblings who have taken to his children well, you were distant and sharp-tongued toward his sons. But right now, he sees no actual protest in your eyes. In fact, your eyes were twinkling, and you were stammering, your lips parting to say something that just wouldnât come out.
âIt is a match of great benefit. It is settled.â Tonowari said, testing your waters.
Neteyam cleared his throat, the sound rough and low. He didn't look surprised at all, he looked like a man who had just been given the coordinates to the only destination he ever wanted.
âCan I say no?â you asked, though the usual sharpness in your voice was wavering, replaced by a breathless tone.
âNo,â Tonowari answered firmly.
You looked at Neteyam, and he met your gaze with a challenge that made you roll your eyes.
âDo you agree to this, Neteyam?â Tonowari asked.
âYes,â Neteyam couldnât have answered faster. âIf it is the will of the Oloâeyktan... and if it is okay with her.â
You let out a dramatic, frustrated huff, throwing your head back. âAs if I have a choice,â you said sharply, trying to hold your reputation tightly. âFine! Do as you wish!â It was delivered so half-heartedly that you had to turn on your heel to march out before they could see the heat rising to your cheeks.
As you disappeared into the night, Tonowari looked at Jake and let out a short, huffed laugh. âYou see? If she truly hated the idea, my ears would still be ringing from her screams. She is going to the docks to poute, and to wait for him to follow.â
Jake smiled, watching his son, who was already shifting his weight, eager to give chase. âGo on, son,â Jake murmured.Â
Outside, your mind was a chaotic storm. Your were wrangling your fingers, and a ticklish, electrifying heat was blooming in your chest. You wanted to scream, but not in rageâyou wanted to scream because the one thing you had been fighting for five years had just been handed to you by decree. When will the mating be? the thought popped into your head, unbidden and traitorous. Also, why are you excited?!
A hand caught your elbow, firm and warm. You were maneuvered around to face him.
âYou okay?â Neteyam asked, his eyes searching yours.
You quickly wore your mask. âIt is my duty,â you said sharply. âTo the clan. To my father. I do not have the luxury of whim.â
You were acting as if you were forced into it, when the fact was clear as day. It took you like a few seconds to agree. His eyes went dark, a predatory heat settling in them. He didn't care about the politics Tonowari was talking about, he only cared that the barrier heâd been punching through for years will finally be gone. You are his.
The communal dinner the next night was a blur. When Tonowari announced the union, the village erupted. Tsireya squeezed your hand, her eyes misty, while Aoânung leaned over with a smug grin. âThis is a long time coming, sister.â
As you and Neteyam stood on the dais, you do not feel any weight on you. In fact, this is the lightest you've ever felt... You could practically float, but you wonât admit that, not even to yourself. Neteyam stood like the dutiful warrior he is, stone-faced but you knew him well by now. There was no denying the smug light in his eyes. He leaned toward you, his breath hot against your ear.
âYou are bounded,â he whispered, the words a low, possessive rumble.
âNot yet mated,â you hissed back, keeping a fake, sharp smile plastered on your face for the crowd.
In one smooth motion, he wrapped a heavy arm around your waist, hauling you flush against the heat of his side. The contact making your knees weak. âDo not let me catch you,â he murmured, his voice dropping into a dark, morbid promise, âor this clan will mourn a brother.â
Your eyes widened, snapping to his face. You expected a joke, but his expression was deadly serious. You never imagined him to be this morbid... He was always the upright and no-fun Sully brother to you. Now, you could feel the back of your nape warming from how blown his pupils were.
Before you could retort, a chorus of hoots and whistles broke out from Loâak and the other young hunters, demanding a kiss to seal the betrothal and since you were already looking up at him in shock, Neteyam didn't hesitate. He tilted his head and leaned down, his lips meeting yours in a chaste, firm kiss. It was brief, but it electrified your entire body more than every empty kiss youâd ever shared in the mangroves combined.Â
You reached down and pinched his side as hard as you could, but he didn't even wince, he just tightened his grip on your waist and gave the crowd a huge smile that showed his pearly whites.Â
The fortnight leading up to your mating were a blur of sensory overload. Everyone was on you. Tsireya and Kiri were busy collecting whatever bright seaweed and shells and pearls they could find, and Tuk was begging for the honor to braid your hair because apparently, she has a particular vision for it, said sheâll braid only the front and put an iridescent seashell she had found in the center. She swore it will make you look like a princess.
âWhat is that word?â you asked her, thinking this was the perfect opportunity. Tuk is only ten, she wouldnât piece two and two together. âPrincess, I mean.â
She giggled. âIt means a beautiful girl in beautiful dresses. The daughter of a King, my Dad told me,â she said.
âWhat is a King?â you asked.
âA leader, I think. Like my Dad, back in the forest. And like your Dad here, I think,â she said, and she did look thoughtful. âMy Dad said my Mom is also a princess, you know? My grandfather was Oloâeyktan. Dad used to tell us a story about a warrior who met a princess and fell deeply in love with her.â
You smiled softly, putting a hand over her small head before your nimble fingers continued weaving luminous sea-grass and pearls into your ceremonial shawl. Sheâs adorable and very talkative besides. âAlright... Iâll trust your vision. Make me a beautiful princess on the day of my mating,â you said.
She squealed and jumped on the balls of her feet, hugging your neck. âOh, I will not let you down, sister! My fingers are made especially for braiding. I braid my family's hair! All of them!â
âEven Neteyamâs?â you blurted out. You canât imagine his large sitting down in front of his little sister, patiently waiting for her to finish braiding all the strands of his hair.
She grinned. âYes! He's the most behaved, actually. He doesnât complain at all,â she said, smiling to her beads.
You pushed your lips forward. Now, that you could imagine. You canât imagine him losing his cool. You remembered getting irritated with Loâak several times when you were young... Youâve seen how Neteyam looks out for him, how Neteyam takes the blame for his transgressions, and how in turn, he would rebuke Neteyam and call him the perfect and dutiful son, as though they were insults meant to slight. And you saw how they did hurt Neteyam, for some reason.
Of course, Loâak had grown past that now.
But as you think of this now, you cannot help but think of your own behavior. How your older siblings had done nothing but look out for you, and how in turn, you showed them the lengths of your ungratefulness. You thought you were useless for not having the same duty they had to carry after your mother died, but you didnât see how hard they worked to not tip the scale on your side, to not burden you with anything.
You are ungrateful. You wallowed in your pain, in your hatred, and in your grief, but you were not the only one who lost a mother. Your head snapped to the beaded curtains when it clanked, seeing Tsireya with a woven basket of whatever sheâs collected. She was humming softly, and she smiled at the sight of you. Hot tears pricked at your eyes and you put your materials down to hold her hand.
She was surprised, obviously, but she quickly put the basket down to let you pull her into a hug. You broke into a sob, hugging her tightly, saying Iâm sorry repeatedly, like a little kid. Tuk watched you two with pursed lips, not knowing what to do, but she thought she needed to go and join the hug, so she did, her small head cradled on your head.
âSorry, what for, sister? You have nothing to say sorry for,â Tsireya said softly.
âThere are a lot, sister, believe me. I was so ungrateful to you and Aoânung... To Father. I thought the world should look at my grief, at how angry I was... That I have forgotten to see the three of you...â you said.
She looked at you with soulful eyes, smiling softly. âWe all grieve differently... And I am thankful to whatever measure you took to ensure you would still be here. Mother would be happy to know you are in my arms right now, crying as you would always do when we were kids...â
You sobbed even harder, not even noticing that the curtain had once again clanked to signal a new arrival. It was only when Aoânungâs voice boomed that you two looked up.
âWhatâs going on?â he asked, his hand immediately on your shoulder to pull you back and check your face. His face crumpled at the your tear-stained face, and then his head reared back. âDoes this match bother you so much, sister? Do you not want it? I will talk to Father, we can always stop thisâ Ow.â
He stopped talking when you jumped in his arms, throwing your arms around his shoulders to sob. âNo,â you sobbed. âIt does not bother me and I do want it!â you said.
He hugged you back, his arms tight around you to pull you as close as possible. âThen why are you crying?â he asked pointedly.
âI am just very sorry... For everything,â you said. âI am ungrateful. I am so mean to you and Tsireya and Father... I think only of myself...â you sobbed.
âErr... And I am handsome and hot..?â he uttered, his voice laced with humor.
âAoânung!â Tsireyaâs voice boomed with an unusual fire.
âWhat? I thought weâre listing facts here!â he said, laughing and wiping your tears as you giggled at what he said. âCome on... I mean. You are mean, but only a fool wouldnât understand. We lost Mother, and you were practically her tail. Losing her, to you, meant losing half of you. And we understand, you know? Besides, itâs not like nothing's new. Youâve always had that mean girl in you.â
You laughed at what he said again, but your tears were still falling. Tsireya smiled softly, riding hug the two of you, pulling Tuk into the hug because the kid was determined to belong. You sobbed and renewed your hold to include Tuk. Eventually, you all calmed down and Aoânung had to leave for the training grounds.
The skies were beginning to be a battleground between purple and orange by the time Neteyam returned from his long-range patrol. You were now huddled with a sleeping Tuk, while Tsireya continued your work on your shawl, both of you laughing as you reminisced moments when you were children. But as the beaded curtains clattered, your laughter quiet down.
Neteyam stood there, his eyes immediately finding yours, and you saw the exact moment he registered your face. Your eyes were red-rimmed and swollen from the afternoonâs emotional purging.
He didn't say anything, but his jaw tightened, offering a polite nod to Tsireya while a small, tired smile formed on his face at the sight of Tuk huddled next to you, but his gaze were heavy on you.
âWill you walk with me?â he asked softly.Â
You glanced at Tsireya and she teasingly smiled at you, making you roll your eyes. Neteyam had subtly been courting you in the past days, and to be honest, the only thing stopping him from going all out was your preference. He wanted to savour the courtship days, and he thinks it was moving too fast, but he also wouldnât complain, especially because itâs leading to your mating.
You stood up, followed him out onto the beach. For a while, there was only the sound of the crashing waves.
âYour eyes,â he finally spoke, his voice barely louder than the waves. He stopped walking and turned to face you. âYou have been crying. A lot.â
âI have,â you admitted, lifting your chin. âIt was... a family matter. We were speaking of Mother.â
Neteyamâs expression softened, but still, a look of genuine, gut-wrenching worry crossed his features. âIs that all it was?â he stepped closer. âY/N, be honest with me. If this is because of the mating... if you feel the weight of my father and yours pressing you into a life you do not want... tell me now.â He looked down at his hands for a second, then back to you. âI can speak to your father. I will take the blame. I do not want you to look at me and see only a cage.â
The thought of him calling off the mating, the thought of losing the very thing that had secretly kept your heart beating for five years, hit you like a physical strike. You didn't even think before your nose flared.
âNo!â You hissed, your fangs almost baring as you stepped into his space.Â
Neteyam blinked. âI am trying to give you a choiceââ
âAre you?â you barked. âOr are you just saying that because you actually do not want to go through with this? Youâve been forced into this duty, and now youâre looking for an exit!â You narrowed your eyes. âIs it because of some little forest girl youâve left behind back home? Some quiet, dutiful Omatikaya girl who doesn't hiss when you look at her?â
Neteyam stood there, his mouth slightly agape, looking utterly dumbfounded. He could barely keep up with how fast youâve turned the conversation a whole 360 degrees, and youâve thrown in a silly assumption there, too. He tried to speak twice before the words actually came out. âWhat? A girl back home?â He let out a breathless, confused sound that was almost a laugh. âNo, of course not. Where would you even get such a thing? I have spent my life training to be a warrior, I did not have time for that. I didn't leave anyone behind because there was never anyone else.â
He took a step forward, closing the distance until you had to look up at him. âI want to go through with this. I want to be your mate.â
Your face softened, but then you forced a scowl. âThen donât ask me that question again!" you hissed, though your voice didnât hold its usual bite.
He stared at you, his heart hammering so hard he was sure you could hear it. He wanted to reach out, to pull you against him and quiet the frantic energy in your body, but he stayed still. He was trying to piece together your outburst. The little forest girl? A part of him wanted to laugh. Could it be possible that you were jealous?
He didn't dare say it out loud. He knew you well enough to know that if he teased you now, you might actually beat him up to a pulp.
âI won't ask again,â he promised, his voice low and steady. âIf you are sure, then I am sure. Three days, princess.â
And three days later, you found yourself at the Cove, wading deep into the water to reach the Spirit Tree, mesmerized by its particular glow tonight. The village elders and your families swim in the surface, watching you two dip further into the waters.
Neteyam reached out and you looked at him with a glowing smile, giving him your hand, his fingers lacing through yours with a grip that promised he would never let you drift away. You faced each other by the time you reached the tree, but its glow rivaled the one in Neteyamâs eyes. You smiled at him, reaching for your kuru, your movements a little shaky, but Neteyam held his halfway, waiting with an agonizing, respectful patience. It was you who closed the distance, guiding your queue to meet his.
The moment the bond snapped into place, your back arched as a physical surge of electricity jolted through your spine. Your pupils dilated until the teal of your eyes was nearly swallowed by black and for a moment, your eyes were marred by streaks of white as you felt a large ball of warmth spread through you.
It was an explosion of color and feeling.
You felt him. There was a devotion so deep it felt like the ocean itself, and an attraction that provided you warmth in the chill of the water. Some visions began to flow. In your mindâs eye, you saw yourself through his perspective. You saw a version of yourself from years ago, riding your ilu through the crest of a wave, laughing with a carefree joy youâve never known since. You were beautiful, radiant, and in that memory, you felt the exact moment Neteyamâs heart had been captured.
But as the bond deepened, you felt as though the waters had flowed into uncharted territories and the golden glow yielded to grayness. You felt his crushing grief for you when your mother died. You felt the weight of his guilt for being who he is, for being part of the reason your world had shattered. Your eyes snapped open underwater, seeing his features crumpling in pain as he absorbed the sheer magnitude of your own feelings.
His heart was beautiful. And you know that yours was ugly.
His end of the bond was flooded with what you had carried. Anger, resentment, and the bitter hatred. It was heavy, toxic, and you felt him taking it all, letting your poison flow into him without a single flinch of rejection.
You let out a breath, forgetting that you were underwater until the air bubbled in your face. Unable to bear the sight of his suffering, you dislodged your kuru. The connection snapped, and you saw a flicker of pure, exhausted relief cross Neteyamâs face before he masked it with his usual warrior stoicism.
He could barely look at you but he never let go of your hand, and shame embraced you like thorn vines. As you two swam back to the surface, the peopleâs voices boomed in celebration before they began to whistle for their mounts. You didn't call for your skimwing. Instead, as Neteyam climbed onto his, you slipped into the seat behind him.
He turned his head, his eyes wide with a silent question. You didn't give him the fire he expected. You looked at him like a child who was caught breaking something precious. âIâm riding with you,â you murmured, wrapping your arms around his thick, muscular waist and pressing your cheek against his broad back.
Neteyamâs posture softened instantly. âOh,â he breathed, his lips pulling into a small, private smile.
As he led the procession back, his large, warm hand reached back to cover yours where they were clasped over his abdomen. You stared at the back of his head, your heart aching with a new kind of pain. Shame. He had seen the darkest corners of your soul and his first instinct was still to never let go of your hand. Perhaps he was used to ungratefulness; he had faced it from Lo'ak for years anyway. But you realized then that you didn't want to be another burden. You wanted to be his peace.
Later at the village, the celebration of your mating was a riot of colors and music. The drums were louder now and the dancing more frantic. You and Neteyam were seated on the high dais, the center of every gaze. As tradition dictated, you dipped your fingers into a bowl of rich, spiced fish sauce to feed him.
Some drops of it dripped on your fingers and before you could pull away, Neteyamâs hand caught your wrist, bringing your hand to his mouth, his tongue darting out to lick the sauce from your skin. He never broke eye contact, his eyes dark and molten, reflecting a hunger that had nothing to do with food.
It felt like someone had accidentally made a spark in a forest filled of dry leaves. You felt your breath hitch, your earlier shame melting into a fierce, desperate need. You leaned in, your movements no longer a performance for your audience. You reached up, twirling a finger into one of his braids, anchoring him to you so he couldn't retreat just in case he decides to tease you.
You leaned close, your lips brushing the corner of his mouth as you licked a stray bit of sauce away. âI want you...â you whispered, the words trembling against his skin. âDo you want me?â
He let out a huffed sound, a mix of a laugh and a growl. âIâve always wanted you,â he rasped, his hand moving to your arm to pull you closer. âSince the day I saw you on the docks. I have wanted nothing else.â
You know that now... You know. You pressed a hard, demanding kiss to his lips, tasting the salt and the spice and the promise of the night to come. âShow me,â you challenged, your voice dropping to a seductive tone as you smirked.
You stood up, your beautiful shawl flowing behind you as flawlessly as your curled hair, all of which are extremely captivating for Neteyam. You pulled his hand up, looking back at him with sultry eyes before dragging him away. You donât even care about the hooting young men and the laughing crowd knowing just what you two will do next.
You dragged him to the eastern side of the village where your new pod is, smelling of fresh weave. The air between you and Neteyam was thick with a tension that made the drums at the festival sound nothing compared to the thrum of your heartbeat behind your ears. You stood in the center of the room, the embers of the fire in the hanging firepots casting a soft, ethereal glow over his dark blue skin.
You watched him as he began to shed his warrior gear. His hands, usually so steady and precise, moved with a slight tremble as he unbuckled the Omatikaya cummerbund he had recently commissioned. He had refused to replace it with a Metkayina chest guard and honestly, you respected his unwavering loyaty.
You reached for the ties of your own top, practically breathless as you watched his muscles ripple with every movement. You let the ceremonial pearls clatter softly as it fell to the floor. Neteyamâs breath hitched, his eyes focused on you with a hunger that made your skin prickle. You are so excited youâre literally a live wire. You walked toward him, and he met you halfway, his large hands reaching out to claim you.
He leaned down, and when his lips met yours, you felt like both of you melted into each other.
He kissed you like he was trying to memorize the shape of your mouth, his hand firm at your nape, tilting your head to gain better access. He was clumsy at first, and you could tell he doesnât usually do this... or didnât do it at all, but you didn't mind. He was so cute, because he was just going by instinct, so you guided him, your tongue dancing with his, showing him what you had learned from years of being the rebellious daughter. When he realized how skillfully you were kissing him, a low, guttural groan vibrated through his chest, a sound of both frustration and desperation.
He lifted you effortlessly, your legs wrapping around his waist as he carried you to the soft furs on the floor. His kisses descended, tracing the line of your jaw, the hollow of your throat, and lower to your chest. You let out a loud moan when his mouth enveloped your pebbled tip, while his hand fondled the other, rolling and pinching your nipple. You shivered at how good it felt, squeezing his large upper arm as you melt into the furs.
While he was busy literally feasting on you, you managed to bring your trembling hands behind him, your fingers wrapping around his tail and caressing it. âOw!â your back arched when, in shock, his teeth clamped down around the flesh of your breast.
âFuck, sorry...â he mumbled, his tongue popping out to lick around the flesh and you mewled, your hand gripping his tail.
Your fingers persevered to untie his loincloth despite the fact that youâre literally bordering on delirious with what heâs doing to you. He helped you shed his loincloth, and the weight of his arousal against your thigh made your own breath hitch. Your hand snaked down, your fingers brushing against the heat of him, and his hips buckled.
In the heat of the moment, you reached for your kuru, the shimmering white fibers seeking his. Neteyam stopped at the sight of it, his eyes looking at yout queue as if it were a predator. He let out a ragged breath and you saw the exact moment he was reminded of what your kuru had brought him. He didn't want the shared pain of your past right now; he didn't want the ghosts of your mother or his guilt to intrude. He wanted you and the reality of this moment.
You understood. You let your kuru fall back, pulling him down for a kiss that tasted of surrender. He ran his fingers through the strands of your soft hair, his hands caging your head as he kisses you, hard and punishing, for what seemed like eternity. You loved kissing him, and it might just be your new addiction.
He kissed his way down your body again, and when he moved between your legs, his mouth finding the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, you arched your back, your fingers tangling in his braids. The first time his tongue flicked against you, a loud, unbridled moan tore from your throat, echoing off the woven walls of the pod. You didn't even care who heard you.
His fingers joined his mouth, determined to watch you come undone with every kiss and suck. You grabbed a handful of his braids, not knowing whether to push him away to relieve you from the bizarre stimulation heâs making you feel, or harder on you to indulge yourself with the feeling.
âNeteyam!â You shouted, pushing his head away, but he wonât budge, his large hands pushing your legs further away.
It was too much, but you find that you wanted it, too. You fisted on the soft furs, moaning louder than you did earlier, your back arching as you felt a knot inside you break and explode. Your foot tried to push him away again when you felt a warm liquid gush out of you, but his mouth only sucked and licked, making sure no drop was wasted.
Your limbs fell on your sides weakly, your eyes a little unfocused until you saw him rise, his large frame covering your view of the hanging firepot. He hovered over you, his golden eyes wide with a mixture of reverence and nerves. He kissed your jaw.
âWas that good?â
You gave a lazy grin, but also, you remembered that he was good. How did that happen? Your features turned a little sharp with awareness, your eyes narrowing. âWho?â
His face previously hazy with lust and desire snapped to attention, âWhat?â
âYou are good. It was good,â you said. âWhoâs the woman?â
His forehead creased and a weakened breath of laughter escaped him. âNo one,â he said, his lips grazing your cheek. âNo one. I do not touch women who are not mine. And I do not let them touch me,â he said, emphasizing the last words.
You pushed your lips forward, catching that stray. âWell...â you pushed your lips forward. âFor what itâs worth, Iâm a virgin, too, you know? But I know how to kiss. See, it helped us earlier. Your teeth were bumping against mineââ
His forehead fell against yours as he shook with laughter. You groaned.
âIâm telling the truth! No one has touched me where youâd touched me! You donât believe me?â you said, your voice rising in slight.
He was pressing a kiss against your neck but his head quickly lifted up. âNo, no. I do believe you,â he said, his eyes widening a little in his conviction. âI believe you.â he repeated, his eyes softening, lowering down to your parted lips. âAnd it doesnât matter, I think. I just need to know names, if so.â
âNames?â you echoed.
âNames of the men,â he said, his eyes narrowing.
You squeezed his shoulder. âNo one,â you replied. âI mean, beyond the kisses...â
He pressed his lips to yours, his tongue sliding in when you parted your lips, exploring with a tentative curiosity that made your toes curl into the soft mats. As his hands wandered down your body, grazing the curves of your hips before he lifted his head up again, his eyes caressing your features, admiring the intricate tattoos on your face.
âYou are so beautiful,â he murmured. He can barely breathe watching you from afar, and now, you were under him. His mate. His wife now. He has all the time in the world. With you.
âThen stop looking and start doing something,â you teased, your voice so womanly it made him shiver.
He chuckled, positioning himself properly between your thighs. His cock felt heavy against your pussy. Youâve felt him earlier, felt the weight of him. He was thick and long, and despite your fear, you were more excited for when he finally enters you.
âTell me if it hurts,â his deep voice grated.
âI want you inside me,â you whispered, spreading your legs. âNow.â
He bit his lip, fisting his cock and pointing it at your pussy and your fingers balled in anticipation. Its wide head nudged you with a slow, agonizing precision, his wide eyes watching your face. You gasped, your back arching as the initial stretch of his girth filled you. Your breathing was jagged, your hand clamped on his shoulder as you clenched around him unconsciously.
He patted your thigh, wincing. âBaby, youâre squeezing me...â
You groaned and tried to relax as he pushes more length into you. Just when you thought itâd be over soon, you made the mistake of looking down and seeing that heâs only halfway in. âThis canât be serious.â Your head fell back on the soft furs.
âWhy?â His hand caressed your hip, and when he moved, seemingly to dislodge himself from you, you tightened your legs around him and pushed your hips up.
In that single move, the remaining length of him disappeared in you, making you quiver as if youâd reached the same high he's given you with his mouth earlier. You are incredibly sensitive.
âOh, Great Mother,â you moaned loud, the sound ripping from your throat. âYou are so big...â
He kissed your jaw softly. âIâm sorry...â He then began to move in shallow thrusts, his lips peppering your face with kisses. Each slide of his shaft sent jolts of pleasure through your core, and as the friction built, loud sounds begun to escape your throat. Moaning and wailing in pleasure. You weren't shy. You had never been shy.
âYes! Ah, right there! Oh, Neteyam, so good!â you screamed, your voice carrying to whoever knows where.
Neteyamâs face slightly crumpled, a little embarrassed, but a grin tugged at his lips as he picked up the pace, his thrusts becoming steadier, deeper. You didn't hold back. Every time he thrusts hard, you let out a loud, unabashed shriek of pleasure.
âNeteyamââ you gasped, your voice breaking as he drove into you. âGreat Mother. Neteyam... please.â You pressed a palm on his lower abdomen as he continuously hammered into you.
He didnât slow down. If anything, your pleasured screams only fueled the predatory fire in his eyes. He leaned down, his large hands caging your head in place. His mouth muffled your sobs as be kissed you, and your eyes rolled back to your head, feeling delirious about everything.
âWhat does my princess want?â he rasped against your lips, his voice thick and dark.
âI donât know...â you sobbed. âSo good...â
He kissed you again before he rose to a kneeling position between your parted thighs, grabbing one of your legs and hiking it up his shoulder, before slamming into you with a series of forceful thrusts that made your screams sound jagged. Scandalous wet sounds filled the air as he hammered into you. You were a mess of sweat and saliva, your breasts bouncing with every thrust.
You were so loud, and so lost in your pleasure, that you didnât even notice the pause in the rhythmic pulsing of festival drums in the distance. It was only when Neteyam slowed down that you noticed, you looked at him through a hazy vision and saw his head tilting to the direction of the villageâs communal area. His eyes snapped at you and you chuckled, still panting.
âI think they heard you,â he said, lowering his body to kiss you.
âIt will serve the clan to know that the newly mated woman is being mounted... hard,â your teeth tugged at his lower lip. âHappy wife, happy life, you know?â
He groaned, his eyes closing for a moment before it opened again to meet yours. The joy in them made you feel like someone offered you a blanket during a storm. âI will make you happy... Always.â
You smiled. âI will make you happy, too, Neteyam... I promise.â
A smile broke through his facade and it made tears prick in your eyes for some reason. âYou being mine is enough. I need only to remember that to be happy,â he said.
âI am yours,â you replied quickly. âIn all the ways you could think of.â
He kissed you, losing himself in the heat of you. He pushed deeper, the sound of your bodies meeting creating a wet, squelching noise. You clung to his shoulders, your nails digging into his skin as he hit a spot that made your vision blur. With a deep push, he shuddered, his cock pulsing inside you as he spilled his seed. You followed him seconds later, your internal muscles clamping tight around him in a series of violent spasms.
He hugged you, as though youâd slip away if he didnât. Your hand moved up to caress his braids, kissing his jaw. âI am here with you, Neteyam...â
The next day, you woke up to the sight of morning sun filtering through the woven walls and beaded curtains of your marui, casting a warm light over everything. You didnât need the weight of the heavy arm draped over your waist to remind you where you are. Neteyam had been awake for an hour. He had spent the time simply watching the way your chest rose and fell, noticing how the bioluminescent freckles on your skin seemed to dim in the daylight, and memorizing the intricate tattoos on your face. Heâd admired the blooming purples and reds of the marks heâd left behind on your neck and chest, and wondered if youâd complain about it later.
When your teal eyes finally fluttered open, the instant flash of joy in them made his own heart skip. Without a word, you rolled over witha lazy grin spreading across your face as you draped an arm over his chest to pull him to you for a lingering morning kiss. It felt so natural, if only his heart wonât stop kicking violently against his chest. It was as if you had been waking up in his arms for years instead of just one night.
âHungry?â he murmured, his voice still gravelly with sleep.
âYes,â you yawned and stretched your body a little, your face snuggling in the crook of his neck. Your throat felt raw and your voice came out hoarse, evidence of your screaming last night.
You bit your lip, closing your eyes at how comfortable it felt. He chuckled, his eyes sparkling even if you were not looking. You are a mated woman now... The memory of the night rushed back in your mind in a heated wace. The way he had looked at you like a predator let out of its cage. The way he had held you so devoid of the politeness heâd shown in the past years... The way he mounted you.
Oh, Great Mother. You felt so giddy, you couldnât help but shiver in his arms.
âWhy?â he asked.
âI was just remembering last night,â you said shamelessly.
He softly kissed your foreahead. âWhy shiver? Are you getting shy?â he asked softly.
Your eyes widened. âNo,â you lifted yourself up, the soft fabric of the blanket falling off your shoulder and revealing your naked form to him. âWhat should I be shy about?â
He looked at you with hazy eyes, as if youâd used some booze on him and his eyes were just pupils blown wide now as they caressed your form. âFor one, you were so loud last night...â
You raised a brow. âEh. Iâm not abashed... Itâs normal to be loud when youâre feeling good,â you smirked.
Besides, does he know just how many girls and women in this clan wished theyâd give them attention? Your eyes narrowed, thinking of all those village women who used to sigh when he walks past. You hoped theyâd heard just how good you were getting it from him last night.
âAre you bothered?â
âNo,â he said, his voice dropping into that deep, possessive register.
You smirked, grabbing your top to wear it again. He sat up, his muscles flexing from all his movements. His large hands hovered over your shoulder, surprisingly gentle as he helped you tie the fastenings and adjust the pearls over your chest. As the blanket slipped away from his lap, your eyes caught the sight of him. Already hard and erected.
Without thinking, your hand darted down to touch it, but he was faster, catching your wrist. âNo. Breakfast first.â
Your nose crunched in a pout. âI just want to touch it. It looks... lonely.â
âMaybe later...â he said, his voice strained as he reached for your loincloth to help you dress.
âBut it's hard now,â you pouted, looking at him through your lashes.
Neteyam let out a long, shaky breath, looking away. âIt will pass. Itâs always like that,â he said.
âAlways like that?â you asked.
âWhen youâre around,â he admitted, his jaw tight.
Your eyes widened, a triumphant smile tugging at your lips. âReally? Even when I was being mean to you?â
âYes. Sometimes, even when you weren't around... Iâd think of you,â he confessed, his ears twitching in a rare show of vulnerability.
âWhat? But wouldn't that be painful?â you asked, glancing at his crotch, which he has now hidden beneath the fabric.
âI relieve myself,â he said bluntly, watching you tilt your head in confusion. He then made a quick up-and-down motion with his hand, his eyes locking onto yours. âAnd I think of you while I do it.â
You felt a surge of heat so intense you thought you might actually turn purple. The idea of the perfect and dutiful firstborn son of Toruk Makto, alone where no one could see him, losing his mind over thoughts of you, was the most intoxicating thing you'd ever heard. âWhat do you think of? Tell me. I think we can... make it happen now.â
Neteyam leaned in, his shadow towering over you as he whispered in your ear, his voice a dark, detailed rasp. He described a vision of you arched over a forest branch, the way he wanted to feel your hair against his skin while he took you from behind, and the way he imagined your face would look when youâre feeling good. Heâs seen it last night, and it beat all the fantasies he had.
By the time he finished, you were breathless and burning.
âWe are definitely doing that tonight,â you whispered, leaning toward him to kiss the side of his lips.
Days later after you were more properly settled in your pod, Jake and Neytiri hosted a dinner, inviting your father and your siblings. Now, you knew you were never shy... But also, these are Neteyamâs parents. And theyâve been witnesses to how volatile and difficult to deal with you could be compared to your siblings.
You were never welcoming. You were aloof. And now, you are mated to their most prized son. Because of this, the thought of sitting in the same table as Neytiri filled your blood with cold dread. You sat with your spine perfectly straight at the dinner table, your hands folded neatly in your lap, a sharp contrast to the wild, snarling huntress they usually saw on the docks.
Next to you, Neteyam looked like the picture of the perfect warrior, but there was a glint in his eye that made you uneasy. He knew exactly why you were acting so stiff.
âYou look beautiful tonight, daughter,â Neytiri said, her golden eyes scanning you with a terrifyingly intensity.
âThank you, Neytiri,â you replied, your voice soft. âIt is an honor to be at your table.â
Neteyam let out a short, soft huff that sounded suspiciously like a laugh. He leaned closer to you, ostensibly to reach for a bowl of fruit, but his shoulder lingered against yours.
âShe is very practiced at the proper daughter look,â Neteyam murmured for only you to hear. He turned his head to look at you, a smirk playing on his lips as you glared at him.
Tonowari finally cleared his throat, shifting his gaze between you and Neteyam, his expression a mix of fatherly concern and the stiff formality of an Oloâeyktan. âAh... so,â your father started, his voice a bit forced. âHow have you two been?â
You nodded. âWeâre having so much fun,â you blurted out without thinking.
Oh, that they know about. Itâs not like the marks on your neck or the red nail marks on Neteyamâs shoulders werenât announcement enough. Neteyam who was sipping water nearly choked. A violent cough erupted from him as he tried to regain his composure, his ears blooming indigo, twitching.
âDo you have everything you need for the household? Nets? Storage?â Jake Sully intervened.
âWe have everything we need, Dad,â Neteyam managed to rasp out, finally finding his voice.
You leaned closer to whisper. âRight. My husband is a very... efficient provider. He doesn't leave anything unfinished, does he?â You snickered.
He raised a brow. âWhispering now, huh? Itâs hard to believe this is the same woman who was screaming my name so loud in the woods just hours ago,â he whispered back.
Neytiri watched the two of you from across the table, her golden eyes shining. âIt is great to see the two of you approaching your marriage life so smoothly,â Neytiri said, her voice smooth. She looked at Jake. âReminds me of our first nights together. Do you remember, Jake?â
Jake chuckled. He knew exactly what Neytiri meant. He rubbed the back of his neck, glancing at Tonowari who looked like he wanted to dive into the ocean to avoid this conversation.
âCan we talk about literally anything else?â Loâak groaned, picking up a piece of fruit and tossing it at Neteyam. âI don't need to hear about my parentsâ first nights together or why Y/Nâs throat sounds like sheâs wounded her throat from screaming.â
âLoâak!â Tsireya hissed, though she was shaking with silent laughter.
âWhat?â Tuk asked, her large eyes moving between everyone. âWhy was she screaming? Was there a moonwraith in the new pod? I can go kill it for you, sister!â
The table erupted. Aoânung, who had been trying to remain stoic and dignified, finally doubled over with a booming laugh. Your father let out a heavy, defeated sigh, rubbing his temples, while Jake just shook his head, a grin finally breaking through his facade.
âNo spiders, Tuk,â Neteyam whispered to his little sister while you laughed beside him.
                             âË â§ âââââąââ°ââââ â§ âË
In the weeks following your mating, the village began to feel less like a place of grief you moved through with a routine, and more like a playground for the two of you. You found yourself exploring the woods behind the village with much curiosity than you did before, keeping in mind that this was the kind of place your husband grew up in.
Youâve always wondered the way he moved with such a predatory yet quiet grace, able to sneak up on people without making any sound, unless he meant for them to hear him, but as you walk through the forest, you realized that it was because the trees seemed to have eyes everywhere. You couldnât even walk here without your foot stepping on a dry leaf that makes a crunchy crack, announcing your presence.
Neteyam had told you that it was one of their trainings back in the forest. To walk in the woods silent as a viperwolf, and youâve seen in it in the way he moves through the brush. âYour people believes in the tranquility of the ocean,â he mumbled, standing behind you as he helped you adjust your grip on his longbow. âBut the forest, it is a living thing. It listens and it watches. There is no current to fight, you only move with it.â
He pressed his chest against your back, his large hands covering yours on the bowstring. He taught you how to breathe into the shot, his heartbeat a steady thrum against your shoulder blades. When you finally released, the arrow thudding perfectly into a distant fruit, your eyes widened and you smiled triumphantly.
You had obsessed over archery for weeks. It is different from your peopleâs crossbow, which you were really good at. Different compared to a spear, more so. You thought you were simply a bad shot at this thing, but now, you hit the target and you couldnât believe it! You turned in his arms with a laugh, rewarded by the pride shining in his golden eyes. He leaned forward to kiss you hard, and you melted in his arms.
âThat one was good,â he grinned.
You pursed your lips. âNow, I understand why Loâak always calls you the perfect son...â you pressed a hand against his chest. âYou excel in everything. This was easy for you, a crossbow is easy. A spear is easy. Riding your ikran is easy. Riding a skimwing is easy...â you tiptoed to kiss his lips. âRiding me... so hard, though.â You snickered.
He laughed, a rich and deep sound that warmed your chest as his arm suddenly pulled you to him. âYou said you were sore...â
You bit your lip, widening your eyes at him. âI am.â
âThen why are you tempting me?â he asked, raising a brow.
You laughed. âMaybe I want more of that thing where Iâm lying on my stomach, and youâre so close on my back,â you moaned in his ears. âThat was so good.â
He groaned, deep and long, pulling you to him. âStrip. Letâs do it now, if you want itââ
âNeteyam and Y/N! Yuhoo!â A familiar, high-pitched voice cut through the trees.
You jumped away from him, nearly toppling over. Neteyamâs strong arm wrapped around you like a vine, helping you find your footing as Tuk came crashing through the brush, her large eyes bright with excitement.
âOh, great! There you two are,â she heaved, skidding to a halt. She paused, looking at the two of you, you with your hair a mess and Neteyam looking like he was ready to wrestle a palulukan. âWhy are you purple again, sister? The forest isnât hot. In fact, itâs so cold here.â She twirled around.
You chuckled. âOh, well... I was purple from laughing,â you chirped, smoothing down your hair.
Neteyam cleared his throat, his ears still twitching violently. âYes, she was laughing so hard.â
Tuk narrowed her eyes, looking between the two of you. âYou guys are weird,â she concluded.
âWait, why are you here, Tuk?â Neteyam asked.
She pouted. âLoâak sent me. He has a question for you, he needs you to go see him,â she said. âHurry up, you two!â You watched her disappear, then turned to Neteyam who was already shaking his head.
âI'm going to kill Lo'ak,â Neteyam muttered, though he was already smiling as he followed you. âI'm definitely going to kill him.â
But the peace was never a stagnant thing.
It started with the scouts. Warriors returning, speaking of a metal village rising from the waves near the territory of the neighboring clan. Theyâve luckily intercepted a group of hunters from that clan who were sent to deliver a message to Toruk Makto about the sky peopleâs activities. Jake personally went there with Tonowari, Neteyam, Aoânung, and Loâak to see it for themselves.
When he came back, he told the council about the massive, artificial island of steel that is turning the crystal-clear waters into a murky, toxic sludge. The news grew grimmer by the hour: the neighboring clans had tried to resist, but the demons had met them with violence, leaving the waters beyond the reef littered with the bodies of those who dared to protect their home.
Inside the council marui, the air was suffocating. Tonowari sat with his head bowed, his hands fisted so hard his knuckles were white. Beside him, Jake Sully paced, his jaw set in a grim line that you recognized from Neteyamâs own face during charged encounters.
âThey are expanding,â Jake rasped. âIf they finish that platform, theyâll have a permanent base for their tulkun hunts. The neighbors are already dying.â
Your arm around Neteyamâs waist tightened and he gripped your arm. âNeteyam...â you murmured, an uncharacteristic fear coiling in your gut.
He pulled you close, his cheek nuzzled in your temple. âItâll be alright.â
The tension snapped two days later.
A hunting party returned... Not with a haul of fish, but the broken bodies of two warriors. The wails of their mothers reminded you of your own grief but you stayed and prayed over them with Tsireya and the elder healers, carrying their grief for them. Days later, patrolling hunters came back with news that made you rush to the sea, riding your skimwing in a rush, with Neteyam hurriedly following behind you.
You fell over at the sight of your motherâs spirit sister, Roâa, drifting aimlessly in the waters, her flank torn open by a massive harpoon. She didn't survive the night. You swam to her, hugging her body tightly as you hugged your mother years before. Tsireya cried silently beside you, her face anguished, a contrast to your angered features.
Roâa was the last piece you have of you mother... And to see her brutally murdered seemed to have brought a shift, even to your father. His face contorted in a grief so sharp it looked like a physical wound and you couldnât help embrace his unmoving body.
âSend word to our neighbors! We will not wait for the metal to reach our shores.â
As the village fell into a frenzy of preparation for days, you dove into the waters before the sun even rose to get a potent herb. It was poison, you would no longer mince your words. You want no one alive. When you broke the surface bringing a handful of it, you saw Neteyam standing on the shore and you felt a jolt of surprise.
You made sure to not take too long. You have not been gone for more than ten minutes!
âWhere were you?â he asked, his hands immediately touching your upper arms to pull you into a hug, uncaring that you're wet and cold.
âI wasnât gone long,â you said.
âI woke up with you gone, you donât know how much that is a stuff for nightmares for me,â he replied, hugging you tighter. âI saw your weapons though. I knew you wouldnât go anywhere crazy without them. But now, after seeing that you were indeed in the waters, I didnât like the idea of it. They could be anywhere, baby...â
You sighed. âI just... foraged something.â You lifted the herbs and saw the confusion in his eyes. âItâs poison.â you whispered darkly.
His eyes widened a little.
You tilted your head. âItâs to ensure maximum damage... If the blades donât kill them, this will do the job.â
His eyes darkened with every word your spoke. He didnât even flinch and recoil, nor lecture you on the code of a warrior or the sanctity of a clean kill. Instead, he reached out, his thumb grazing your jaw.
âMake it strong,â he whispered, his voice vibrating with a dark resonance that made the fine hairs on your neck stand up. He took the herbs from your hand, his fingers lingering against yours, grounding you even as the storm raged in your chest. âCome. The hunters are gathering at the weapon racks. Your father is calling for the final blessing.â
You followed Neteyam to the central deck, where Tonowari stood like a pillar, his spear held high among the warriors whose own spears they had sharpened for days.
âYou are not going,â Tonowari quietly said when he was done talking to his warriors, his eyes landing on the lethal kit you were preparing.
âFather, I cannot not go. I need to be there. They killed my mother, they killed her sister. My home is being choked by their filth. You tell me to stay, Father, and you might as well tell the tide to stop rising.â
Tsireya stepped up beside you, her jaw set in a way that mimicked your own. You had a hunch heâd told her the same thing. Your father looked at the two of you, both fierce images of the woman who was and is his strength.
Your father let out a long, shuddering breath, the weight of the world bowing his shoulders for a fleeting second before he hardened again. âFine, but be... careful. I cannot lose any of you.â
You choked a sob and hugged him. You are scared, but you also cannot imagine yourself not fighting out there while eveyone risks their lives.
Inside your marui, the weight of the impending battle had shrunk to just the two of you. The morning sun flickering against the woven walls as you sat between Neteyamâs legs, your fingers dipped in the thick pigment of his war paint.
He was silent, his broad chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm that grounded your frantic heart. You traced the line of his nose dowm to his chin with the paint, your touch lingering longer than necessary.
âYou're shaking,â he murmured, his large hand coming up to steady your wrist. He leaned into your touch, his golden eyes searching yours.
âI am not,â you lied, your voice a mere breath. You dipped your fingers back into the bowl, drawing a sharp, jagged line across his cheekbone. âI am just... impatient.â
Neteyam caught your hand, pressing a firm kiss to your palm, his gaze intense. âLook at me. I will be in the sky with my mother. I will see everything. If you are in trouble, I will find you. Do you hear me? I will always find you.â
You stared at him and nodded. âNeteyam... When we did the tsaheylu... I know youâve seen my ugly heartââ
âDo not speak of it that way!â he cut you off.
âAlright, my ugly emotions. Dark and bloody, full of hatred,â you said.
He tilted his head. âI also saw me. You liked me when I first got here,â he said, smiling. âYou find me so handsome.â
You groaned. âIâve always thought so...â you pushed your lips forward. âI was just in-denial for such a long time.â
âItâs all that matters to me that night, you know? To know that I have at least stirred your heart. I was thinking, I can definitely build on that. I will make you love me as I love you. I will make you so happy as you make extremely happy,â he said, angling his head to kiss you.
Your face crunched as you felt a pinch in your heart. âYou need higher standards,â you said in a trembling voice. âI was so rude. All the time. I was mean and I didnât think of your feelingsââ
He hushed you, wrapping an arm around you, some of his face paint transferring on your face. âI understand. I understand all of it,â he said in a quiet, devoted voice.
You know that. Youâve seen it in his heart, but still, you couldn't help but weep. âBut I canât understand, âTeyam, why I had treated you so badly when you didnât deserve any of my anger. I donât want you to forgive me. I donât even deserve this love you have for me. I cannot understand it,â your tears fell.
Everything seemed to have came up on you and it all culminated to this. âYou do not need to understand it. I love you. I love you very much,â he said, his large hands cupping your jaw so he could look in your eyes. âAnd my forgiveness is mine to give, only that there is nothing to forgive. Do you understand? I love you, and I love you in any form you show me. You cannot dictate my heart.â
He smiled at you and you cried even harder. You donât know why you couldnât stop crying. There is a golden ball of warmth threatening to burst inside your heart and you couldnât hold it back. You pressed your forehead against his, uncaring that his paint will transfer to you.
âI love you, Neteyam. I love you so much...â you mumbled, kissing him even though you wanted to see more of the surprise on his face. You squeezed his bicep, your heart aching with the force of your love for him.
When you two stopped kissing to breathe, you saw his eyes sparkling with tears, his strong arms maneuvered you so that heâd cradle your upper body like a baby and you laughed.
âI canât believe how freeing that feels. I love you, Neteyam. I love you, I love you, I love you,â you said, obsessed with how good it feels to say that.
He lowered his head and kissed you. âI love you so much. More. I love you more, I love you more, I love you more,â he said, pressing a kiss to your lips nearly with every word.
âWeâll talk again tonight,â you mumbed, caressing his jaw. âAnd then weâll do more. Iâll let you do anything you want with me, so make sure youâll be careful up thereââ
âHey, love birdsââ
âLoâak!â Neteyam growled so deeply you felt his body vibrated with it, making you throw your head back with laughter.
Later, with all the warriors assembled, the war cries of your people echoed across the wave as the shadow of Torukâs wings covered almost the entire village as he flew past, leading the vanguard. You saw Neteyamâs ikran along with Neytiriâs follow the beast like predatory birds. With a sharp whistle, you urged your mount into a high-speed plane, riding among the warriors of your clan, holding your spear tightly as war crimes erupted in your throat as your fleet reached the destination.
You saw a scout vessel banking hard, its mounted gunner spraying the water with bullets to aim at your fleet. Your father signalled to disperse and you dove into the water the same time everyone did, swimming on the other side, where you know you can find a weakness. As the vesselâs hull loomed, you broke the water and made your skimwing leap in the air, shooting with your crossbow with a strained scream.
It punched through the reinforced glass of the cockpit and you saw the pilot slumped instantly, before you landed back on the water. The vessel veered wildly, crashing into a large rock and erupting into an orange flame. You smiled, diving deep into the cool pressure of the water. Beneath the surface, your eyes fixed on the mechanical silhouettes of the submersibles moving in the depths, hunting your brothers and sisters.
You propelled your mount toward a subâs rear rotor and with a practiced strike, you jammed your spear into it, rendering it to a stop, before you strike to puncture the glass. You left it after ensuring that the pressure of the deep would do the rest for the pilot. You did that to more submersibles, and was pursued by some, too, using what youâve learned from all the times you played underwater.
Breaking the surface for air, the sight that welcomed you was filled of fire and ash. Your gaze instinctively snapped upward, and your heart jumped at your throat when you saw a missile pursuing Neteyam, who dove his ikran into a vertical corkscrew, the missile desperately following him. At the last second, he banked hard, luring the missile directly into the path of a pursuing fighter jet. The jet erupted in a beautiful display of orange and skittered to another jet, bringing it down as well.
A huge smile broke on your face as Neteyam leveled out, hearing his war cry echoing to reach you. The artificial island seemed to have tilted to the side, its steel skeleton groaning as if people were working to dismantle it from below, as it burned from above. It was reduced to a vision of dancing fire.
By the time the sun began to dip toward the horizon, the metal village was nothing but a graveyard of sinking iron. The ocean, though scarred, had claimed its prize. The journey back was silent as you rode beside your father, whose face was a mask of grim satisfaction. As the familiar woven walkways of the village came into view, the village erupted in cheers for the returning warriors, you looked to the sky.
You saw Neteyamâs ikran flying toward the forest, making you vault off your ikran to go there and meet him. The bioluminescence of the forest was just beginning to wake but you paid it no attention, focused only on Neteyamâs majestic form as he descended his beast. You ate up the steps between you and threw yourself at him, your arms locking around his neck with a force that nearly sent both of you back into the brush.
He caught you, his large hands anchoring you against his chest as he buried his face in the crook of your neck, breathing in the scent of salt from the ocean before peppering kisses along your jaw and neck, his grip tightening until you were molded against him.
âYou okay? Wounded anywhere?â he asked breathlessly, his large hand touching you everywhere.
âI saw you,â you rasped, ignoring his questions. âIn the air. You are so hot,â you pressed a kissed to his lips. âYou? Are you wounded anywhere?â
You checked his arms as his face melted into your neck, he shook his head but you still made sure by checking thoroughly. âI wished I saw you in the waters, baby...â he whispered. âBut I know you were a nightmare for them.â
You pulled back just enough to see his face, grinning through the smearing war paint. âI know we havenât weeded out all of them yet... But Iâm glad they are gone for now,â you sighed, looking back at the village when you heard the drums. âThey are starting the celebrations.â
You were about to turn around and go back, but Neteyamâs grip on your waist tightened, his thumb tracing the curve of your hip with a deliberate, slow pressure that made your breath hitch. âYou seemed to have forgotten something...â he mumured, his voice dropping into that low, gravelly register that always made your heart skip.
Your brows furrowed. âWhat?â
His golden eyes burned on you with a focused intensity that made the surrounding forest feel like it was fading away. âYour promise.â
You blinked. What promiseâ Oh! âOh... Right,â you cleared your throat. âWeâll talk, yes...â
His head tilted, raising a brow. âThat all?â
You bit your lip and laughed. âAlright, I give up. I remember! Iâll... Weâll... do it,â you mumbled, your cheeks burning as if this was the first time when youâd literally fucked each other every day in the past moons.
âAnd?â he probed.
You huffed. âAnd you can do what you want with me.â
He smiled, squeezing your waist. âRight.â he nodded once, leaning forward to kiss you.
âLetâs not attend the celebration... Thereâs somewhere I want to go,â you said, holding his hand and dragging him back to the village. âCall for your mount.â
Tonight, youâre planning to renew your mating. The night of your mating never left your mind. The tension, the ugliness of you unresolved anger, and the way he had taken the weight of your hate during the tsaheylu. You wanted to give him back the love he deserved, pure and unmarred.
He called for his skimwing and you both rode it to the cove. He looked at you when you held his hand, slipping off the skimwing and into the water. âCome,â you told him softly. He slipped off the skimwing and wrapped his arms aroujd you. You smiled and kissed him. âI want to do it again, my love. I want you to see me now. Just me.â
His gaze caressed your face lovingly and you felt your heart burst with warming emotions. âI love you so much,â he mumbled. âI love you.â
You smiled, your eyes twinkling. âI love you more, Neteyam.â
You kissed the side of his mouth before you dove into the water, with him following you until you both reached the spirit tree. You reached for your kuru behind you, bringing it between you. Youâre now the one waiting with quiet yet desperate patience, but he didn't make you wait long, he brought his kuru to yours in an instant. As your neural braids connected, the world shifted.
This time, there was no wall of resentment for him to climb. Instead, Neteyam was flooded with the sheer, overwhelming force of your love. He felt the way your heart skipped when he walked into a room, the heat of your attraction, and the deep loyalty you held for him. On your end, you felt how his love grew even fiercer, a golden sun that warmed every corner of your being. But then, the connection pulsed with something else... His anticipation for later.
You think he didn't mean to, but his desires began to leak through the bond, messing with your senses. Without him even moving a finger, you felt the ghost of his hands on your waist, the phantom pressure of his length moving inside you in hard, forceful movements, and the feel of his kisses on your body. You shivered in the water, your eyes blowing wide.
He smirked, watching you with a predatory, adoring look. Your eyes narrowed, signing to him, gesturing to the spirit tree. âI want us to meet my mother first. I want to show her my mate.â you signed.
He looked at you, nodding and gently breaking the connection so you could both connect to the spirit tree. You held his hand and closed your eyes, immediately finding yourself back in the village, seeing your motherâs form standing on the dock. She looked as she always did. Fierce, eternal, and serene. She held no memory of your teenage rage or the years you spent mourning her. To her, you were simply the lovely daughter who got so much from her.
She turned as if she sensed you, her smile brightening, but it faltered into genuine shock when she saw the man standing beside you. âNeteyam?â she asked, her eyes moving to your entwined hands.
âMother,â you greeted softly.
Neteyam touched his forehead. âOel ngati kameie, Tsahik.â
âDaughter...â she tilted her head in question, a soft smile touching her lips.
âHe is my mate, Mother...â you said, squeezing her hand.
Ronal chuckled, looking between the two of you. âAnd you agreed, young man?â
Neteyam glanced at you, smiling. âIt is a gift to have her in my life, Tsahik. I have loved her since I was young.â
You turned to Neteyam, smiling, when you heard the crack in his voice. Ronal sighed dreamily, a knowing look crossing her face. âOh, that I know. Iâve seen it.â
âSeen what, mother?â you asked, surprised.
Ronal stared at you, at how unknowing you are. Even then, she knew it would be a problem between you two. Sheâs always observed how Neteyam always had his eyes on you, how he seemed so aware of you and your presence. She initially thought it was simply a boy being curious, but she didnât know how sheâd known.
You two stayed with your mother for what seemed like hours. But in reality, it lasted only or even less than five minutes. You disconnected from the tree, squeezing Neteyamâs hand and blowing hair out of your nose. He wrapped an arm around you, and swam back to the surface. The water broke with a sudden, violent splash as you both surfaced, gasping. Neteyam gripped your waist, his fingers digging into your skin as he swam to a nearby flattened ground. He hauled you up on it, heightening the frantic beat of your heart.
He hauled himself up, and you moved back, giving him space but he grabbed your ankle, stopping you. The cold air gave you chills but it was immediately replaced by the heat of his body fitting itself between your legs, and pressing against you. You pressed a palm against his chest when he lowered his head to kiss you, you parted your lips to welcome it, feeling his tongue expertly plunge into your mouth.
His hand found your breast and squeezed, deepening his kiss and wrapping a muscled arm around you. By the time he left your lips, you were gasping for air. His gaze caressed your features, âDid you feel it through the bond?â he rasped, his voice a jagged edge of desire.
âI felt everything,â you breathed, your hands sliding up his chest to grip the back of his neck. âI felt how much you want me.â
He let out a low, predatory growl, his golden eyes darkening. He leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear, his breath hot. âYou made a promise, baby. You told me I could do whatever I want with you.â
âI did,â you whimpered, arching your back as the hand squeezing your breast slide down to the junction of your thighs.
âI intend to hold you to every word.â
He didn't waste another second. His fingers tore at the simple wraps of your top and loincloths, quickly ridding you of them. He stripped himself with a frantic urgency, his heavy, cock springing free, already glistening with a thick bead of pre-cum just from kissing you and feeling you up. He looked massive, a vein pulsing along the length of his shaft, the head swollen and dark.
âI need to be inside you,â he growled, kissing you hard.
He gripped one of your thighs, hoisting it high and draping it over his broad shoulders while he fold the other to spread you wider. He didn't ease in like he usually does, instead, he aligned the broad head of his cock and lunged forward in one powerful, unrestrained thrust.
You let out a sharp, strangled scream that echoed through the cove, your head falling back against the mossy ground. He filled you completely, stretching your walls to their absolute limit. The sensation was an explosion of pressure and heat, a blunt force that seemed to reach your very core.
âBaby, you're so tight,â he groaned, his voice vibrating through your chest. âSo wet for me.â
Your hand hold onto his biceps, squeezing as you clenched around his girth. âNeteyam...â
He kissed you hard, murmuring praises. âYou feel so good, baby... So warm and tight. Is it good?â
You nodded, kissing him. He began to move, and the pace was immediately punishing. There was no tenderness here, only the raw, starving need of a man who spent the entire day fried by adrenaline on the battlefield, holding onto the promise youâve given him. Every thrust produced a loud, wet sound, your juices being churned into a frothy lather. The sound was so scandalous and yet it seemed to arouse him even more.
âOh, babe,â you choked out, your fingers clawing at his shoulders, leaving red marks in his skin. âNeteyam, please, more...â
He licked the side of your neck, slamming his hips forward again. The force of the impact sent a jolt of electricity through your spine. He began to hammer into you, his cock sliding in and out with a violent friction, every glide of his pelvis against you making your clit scream with pleasure, a delicious ache that made your toes curl. Your pussy gripped him with desperate spasms, milking him as he drove himself deeper and deeper.
His head lowered to kiss your breast, his warm mouth catching a pebbled tip and sucking hard. Your back arched as you moaned in pleasure, not knowing what to focus on. His mouth sucking on your breast, or his cock forcefully sliding in and out of you. Youâve been mated for moons, and Neteyam still doesnât know what to with everything youâre offering, and yet he always seems to be so extremely thorough.
Heâs wanted this for years... And to think that you are his now is driving him mad.
He shifted his weight, his hands sliding under your ass to lift you higher, changing the angle so he could bury himself even further, that you could see him bulging in your lower abdomen. You felt your orgasm building, making you tremble in his arms.
âIâm close,â you wailed, your voice breaking. âNeteyam, I'mââ
âNot yet,â he grunted, abruptly stopping.
You whined, weakly kicking your foot but he had lowered your hips down on the ground, pulling out of you. âNeteyam...â you whined, your face reflecting yoir agitation despite the pleasure in it.
You missed him inside you, but the absence didnât last long, he grabbed your hips and flipped you over with a sudden, authoritative motion. You landed on your stomach, your face pressed into the soft moss. Your upper body rose by instinct, by Neteyam dropped his weight onto your back, caging you in his massive arms. He pinned your wrists beside your head, his chest crushing your shoulder blades. He positioned himself behind you, the tip of his cock probing at your wet entrance, teasing the opening before he surged forward.
He entered you from behind with a guttural roar, the angle allowing him to penetrate deeper than before. You moaned, your mouth perpetually gaped to make sounds of pleasure as he fold one of your legs, his large hand seeking your clit from under the two of you. You gasped and jolted, moving away from his hand but his hand chased you, caressing your sensitive nub as he teasingly moved inside you.
âLook at you,â he whispered, his voice a low rumble in your ear. âPinned under me. Just where you belong.â
He licked your jaw, angling his head so he could kiss you as his thrusts began to gain pace, a relentless, driving rhythm. Each thrust was a heavy blow, pushing your breasts into the moss. The wet sound was louder now, a messy noise of friction and fluid. You could feel the heat of him, the way his cock stretched and molded into you, claiming every inch of you.
âYou're mine,â he gasped, his grip on your wrists tightening.
You nodded. âYes, yes, yes. I am. Iâm yours, Neteyam...â
The admission seemed to break the last of his restraint. Neteyam's movements became frenzied, his hips hammering into you. The friction was intense, the heat bordering on pain, but it was the only thing that mattered. You felt the walls of your pussy clenching around him, triggering his own release.
He let out a long, shaking moan, his body stiffening. He drove himself in one last time, burying his cock as deep as it could possibly go, and stayed there. You felt the hot, thick jet of his seed erupting inside you, pulse after pulse of scorching liquid filling you.
At the same moment, your own climax ripped through you, a violent shudder that left you sobbing. You felt the warmth of his cum leaking out around the sides of his shaft, mixing with your own fluids to create a slippery mess between your thighs. Neteyam collapsed on top of you, his heavy breathing making you shiver as he buried his face in the crook of your neck, his skin slick with sweat.
âFuck,â he cursed under his jagged breaths. Heâs practically seeing stars but he was already maneuvering your body to face him, slowly pulling out of you so he could roll you on your back.
You mewled at his absence, spreading your legs again once you're lying on your back. He licked his lips wet as he watched you spread your legs, knowing what you want. His cock pressed against the slick and swollen lips of your pussy, and then he eased himself in, feeling every involuntary clenches your pussy is making around his girth. He lowered his head down to kiss you.
âI love you,â he whispered, his voice returning to that soft, adoring tone as he caressed your slick inner thigh. âDid I hurt you?â he asked, his hand moving up to softly caressed your breast, his thumb rubbing its tender tip.
You shook your head, smiling lazily, your eyes still hazy from your mind-blowing climax. âNo,â you said firmly. âI loved everything you did to me. I love you, Neteyam...â you cupped his jaw, kissing him hard.
âSure?â he asked, his hips unconsciously moving between your legs and burying himself deeper in you.
âIâm very sure,â you grinned. âBut how was it? Did you feel good?â your palm caressed his sweaty chest.
âGood? Baby, I was seeing stars,â he chuckled, his gaze caressing yoir features for a long time, before he pressed his forehead against yours. âI love you so much it hurts."
You smiled. âI love you more, my love...â your hand slide up to his shoulder to grip his nape. âThe night is long... And the promise isnât over yet. You can still very much do what you want.â
neteyam, convinced that mastering the art of kissing is essential for his future duties as oloâeyktan, asks you to help him practice.
tags: smut, aged-up, fem pronouns, yearning, first times, ( awkward ) makeout session, grinding, in-denial, best friends to something (?) (7.4k wc)
Neteyam had accepted the weight of the title Oloâeyktan long before his adult fangs even came in, his fate carved into his bone the moment he was born as the eldest son of Jake Sully. With his father as his living example, he had spent his childhood curating a rigorous, strict curriculum for himself, a list of requirements he felt he must fulfill to be worthy of the title: he needed to be a lethal warrior, a sharp hunter, a wise diplomat, a patient teacher, and a protector who always put the clan before himself.
But as he grew older, watching his fatherâs eyes soften only when they landed on his mother, Neteyam realized there was a more vulnerable side to leadership he hadnât accounted for. An Oloâeyktan needed a partner to stand by his side for life, a mate that would lead beside him. With that realization came a terrifying new pressure, a crucial duty he had only recently begun to obsess over. He needed to be good at keeping his mate happy.Â
Neteyam knew it was too early to be worrying about the heat of a mating den, but the golden child couldnât silence the voice in his head that demanded perfection in all things. If he was going to lead, he couldnât afford to be clumsy or inexperienced when the time came. And there was no better place to start the foundations of intimacy than learning the basics: knowing exactly how to kiss.
But there is one problemâhe had absolutely no idea how to go about learning it. He couldnât exactly ask his parents for a demonstration, and the thought of seeking advice from anyone else in the clan made him want to crawl into a hollow log and die. That left him with only one logical option, the one person who knew his secrets better than she knew her own breathing.Â
You.
You and Neteyam had been attached at the hip since you were barely tall enough to reach a direhorseâs knee, your bond so unbreakable that the clan members joked you were two halves of the same soul. It was a rare sight to see one of you without the other lingering close by. So, when his father finally released him from the endless grind of his daily duties, granting him a fleeting moment of freedom to ride the winds with youâhe finally decided to ask you the question that had been bothering him.
The adrenaline was still buzzing under your skin, electric and loud, as you landed your ikran on one of the rocks of Ayram alusĂŹng. You practically vaulted off the saddle, ripping your ionar away from your face and gasping in the cool air, breathless with exhilaration.
"Did you see that?" you crowed, bouncing on the balls of your feet as Neteyam dismounted beside you. "That spin? I swear I almost cleared the entire canopy! You have to admit, that was flawless."
Neteyam didn't immediately retort with his usual sarcastic quip about your ego. He was busy stroking the snout of his ikran, murmuring a quiet thanks to the animal, but his movements were stiff, mechanical.
You nudged him hard in the shoulder with your own. "Hey, don't feel bad just because I left you in the dust. If you practice more, maybe one day you'll be faster than me."
He laughed, but the sound was hollow. "Yeah. Maybe."
You paused, your grin faltering as you watched him. He refused to meet your eyes, his jaw set in that way it always did when he was overthinking something to death. "Okay, what's wrong? You're never this quiet after a flight. Did I actually embarrass you that badly?"
Neteyam looked at you then, his expression so serious that a startled laugh burst out of your throat. You expected him to crack a smile, to tell you to shut up, but he didn't. He just looked strained, his ears flicking back nervously.
The smile slid off your face. "Neteyam? You're scaring me. Just say whatever it is."
"Let's sit down," he murmured, jerking his chin toward a flat patch of moss near the edge of the cliff.
"Okay..." You trailed off, following him slowly. You plopped down cross-legged, grabbing a massive, broad leaf from the ground. You started ripping the edges of it idly, needing something to do with your hands as the silence stretched thick between you. You waited, watching him from your peripheral vision, expecting a lecture about safety or perhaps a confession about some mistake he'd made during training. But Neteyam just sat there, staring out at the floating mountains, his tail curling and uncurling anxiously against the rock.
"So?" you prompted, tearing a particularly satisfying strip of green from the leaf. "Are you going to tell me, or do I have to guess? Because I'm guessing you broke one of Tukâs toys again."
He shook his head slowly, finally turning to look at you. "No. It's not that."
"Then what?" you tossed the shredded leaf pieces aside. "Spit it out, skxawng. You know you can tell me anything."
He let out a long, shaky breath, his golden eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made you want to squirm. "I need to ask you a favor. A big one."
"If this will cause me to get exiled or somethingâŚ" you joked, though your voice was quieter now.
"No," he said, then paused. "I don't think so."
"Well, that's reassuring. Go on."
Neteyam rubbed the back of his neck, his stripes flushing darker. "I need to⌠I need to learn something. And I can't ask anyone else. I trust you more than anyone."
Your heart gave a weird little flip, but you ignored it. "Obviously. I'm your best friend. What do you need to learn? A new flying technique? Because I can definitely teach you that."
"No," he said quickly, shaking his head so hard his braids whipped against his face. "Not flying. It's... look, I need to get better at... certain things. Romantically."
âUh-huhâŚâ
âAnd I was thinking maybe you could help me by telling me who I could go to. To practice withâŚ?â
You blinked, tossing a piece of shredded leaf over the edge of the cliff. "To practiceâ? Neteyam, you want me to set you up?"
He huffed, looking frustrated with himself. "I just need to be prepared, okay? For the future. And I can't ask just anyone. I need someone who knows what they're doing, but who won't go blabbing to the entire clan five seconds later."
It took a second for the request to register, and when it did, you felt a strange swoop in your stomach. You and Neteyam shared every secret, and knew every embarrassing detail of each other's lives. But for some reason, this felt... different. You had always assumed that when it came to this kind of stuffâmating, courting, kissingâhe would go to Lo'ak or one of his male friends. It was weird that he was asking you, a girl, for people who could teach him how to kiss.
Still, you were his best friend first and his confidant second. You pushed that weird, pinching sensation in your chest aside and decided to just be helpful.
"Okay," you said slowly, shifting your weight on the moss. "If you want someone who knows what they're doing... you probably want someone with experience."
Neteyam lifted his head immediately, eyes wide. "Exactly. Who?"
âWell,â you started, counting on your fingers. âThereâs Tala. She's sweet, patient. I heard she lets her partners lead completely. If you want to feel in charge and practice your... authority... she's the one.â
He hummed, considering it. "She is nice."
"Or," you dragged out the word, grinning mischievously, "there's Naya. She doesn't hide it either. If you want to learn technique, sheâs probably the best teacher. She won't let you get away with being clumsy."
Neteyam was listening intently, his brow furrowed as if he were analyzing a battle strategy, but inside, he was screaming. He had almost done it. He had almost asked you.
It would have been so easy. You were right there, tearing up that leaf, looking at him with that open, trusting expression. He knew you, trusted you, and honestly, the thought of touching anyone else made his skin feel weirdly tight. But he stopped himself. This wasn't just about him; it was about his duty. He couldn't risk complicating the most important friendship in his life just because he was nervous about his first kiss. If he messed it up, if he made things awkward between you, he would lose his anchor. And Neteyam couldn't be the Olo'eyktan without you by his side. He had to keep this line drawn
"Naya," he repeated, testing the name, trying to convince himself she was a good option. "She seems... efficient."
"Efficient?" You laughed, shaking your head at him. "It's kissing, Neteyam, not a hunt. But sure, efficient. Those are your best bets if you want to survive this 'practice' of yours without embarrassing yourself."
He didnât go to Naya. He didnât go to Tala, or anyone else you had listed out for him with that teasing grin of yours.
Neteyam went straight back to the pod, his jaw set tight enough to crack a tooth, and spent the evening staring at the woven ceiling of his room. He didn't breathe a word of this to you, of course.Â
The next day, however, his composure was nowhere to be found.
You saw it in the training grounds. Usually, he was a picture of lethal grace, his movements fluid and calculated as he sparred with the other young warriors. But today, he was distracted. His reflexes were a hair too slow; his gaze kept drifting toward the tree line when he should have been watching his opponent's weapon. He took a hit to the ribs that he should have easily blocked, and the sight of him stumbling back, wide-eyed and breathless, was so unlike him that it actually made you stop dead in your tracks.
You didn't ask him about it immediately, though. You assumed he was just spiraling. He was Neteyam, after allâthe boy who treated a minor scratch like a fatal tactical error. He was probably overthinking the kissing thing, already running five different simulations in his head about how to approach a girl without humiliating himself. You figured he was just strategizing, his "big brain" working overtime to devise the perfect kissing protocol.
It was strange to see him so shaken, especially since you knew for a fact that half the clan was desperate for his attention. Since his shoulders had broadened, he had become the object of nearly every young womanâs fantasy. You had heard the giggles behind the woven screens, the hushed prayers to Eywa asking that the Oloâeyktanâs son look their way. He didn't need to worry. If he walked up to almost anyone and asked to kiss them, they would probably faint from sheer joy.
Watching him pace restlessly near the riverbank, a small, unworthy thought wormed its way into your own mind. Should you also be worrying about this?
It was an embarrassing admission, one you barely wanted to make to yourself in the quiet of your own head. You were the same age as him, you were supposed to be looking for a mate, or at least enjoying the courting dances. But you hadn't done anything. You had never been kissed, never been courted, never felt that rush of heat everyone talked about. For the longest time, you had told yourself it didn't matter because Neteyam was in the same boat. You were two static points in a rushing river, content to just exist together while the rest of the world mated and paired off.
But now, he was trying to leave the river. He was trying to swim.
And if he succeeded, where did that leave you?
You pushed the thought away, annoyed at your own self-pity. You were happy the way things were. You liked being his shadow, his partner in crime. Or at least, you thought you were.
That evening, you met him at the spot.
It was a hidden platform nestled high in the boughs of a massive, ancient tree, a wooden nest the two of you had built from scrap wood and braided vines when you were only tall enough to reach the first branch. It was your sanctuary. The only place in the village where the eyes of the clan couldn't reach you.
Neteyam was already there, sitting on the edge with his back to you, his legs dangling over the open air. The wind whipped his braids around his shoulders, but he didn't move.
"Hey," you said softly, climbing onto the platform and taking your usual seat beside him.
He didn't startle. He just glanced at you, his expression guarded. "Hey."
You pulled your knees up to your chest, hugging them, watching the sunset burn across the horizon in shades of violent purple and orange. For a while, the silence was comfortable, but underneath it, you could feel the hum of unspoken things.
"So?" you finally asked, keeping your voice light, casual. "How did it go? Did you survive?"
Neteyam stiffened slightly. He turned his face away, looking out at the forest canopy instead of you. "It... it was fine."
"Fine?" You raised an eyebrow, nudging his shoulder with yours. "That's it? I gave you the best candidates in the clan, and all you have to say is 'fine'? Did you go to Naya? She's efficient, right? Did she teach you the secrets of the universe?"
He let out a short, tense laugh that didn't reach his eyes. "Something like that."
"Liar."
The word slipped out before you could stop it, but you covered it quickly with a teasing grin. "Come on, Neteyam. Give me details. I'm your best friend. I need to know if my advice was crystal or garbage."
He hesitated. His fingers gripped the edge of the platform so hard his knuckles turned white. When he spoke, his voice was flat, devoid of emotion. "It was good. She was... patient. I learned a lot. I think I have a better idea of what to do now."
You listened, nodding slowly, forcing your smile to stay in place even as a sharp, pinching sensation started to bloom in your chest. It felt weirdly like heartburn, or maybe like you had swallowed a jagged stone. You told yourself it was just annoyance at his vagueness, or perhaps the wind was a little too cold tonight.
"That's good," you said, and the words sounded hollow to your own ears. "I'm glad you got it sorted out. Now you can stop walking around like you're about to face a Thanator."
"Yeah," he whispered, still refusing to look at you. "Now I can stop."
The following days fell into a rhythm that was maddeningly normal on the surface, yet fundamentally wrong underneath. You flew the formations, you trained until your muscles burned, you ate together. But the air between you felt thicker. Neteyam was still there, still your shadow in every sense of the word, but the easy, fluid lightness that defined your friendship had evaporated.
The silence wasn't peaceful anymore; it was heavy, filled with things he wasn't saying. The teasing quips that usually flew between you like arrows had vanished. He didn't make fun of your landing form when you nearly tripped over your own tail. He didn't brag when he managed to take down a target farther than you. He was just... polite.
Polite Neteyam was infinitely worse than angry Neteyam. Angry Neteyam you could handle. You could yell back, you could poke the beast until he snapped and growled. But this quiet, distant stranger who nodded at your stories and answered your questions with single syllables was driving you insane.
At first, you tried to rationalize it. You told yourself it was just the aftershock of his confession, the lingering insecurity of a boy who had obsessed over a skill he hadn't mastered yet. You figured he was just analyzing his performance to death, turning the memory of that supposed kiss over and over in his mind until it was nothing but dust. You tried to give him space, letting your own chatter fill the silence until it felt like you were talking to a wall, your voice bouncing back at you, hollow and lonely.
But as the days dragged on, your patience frayed like an old rope. You missed him. You missed the version of him who would shove you into the dirt and laugh until his ribs hurt, the version of him who would look at you like you were the only person in the clan who mattered. This stiff, formal boy with his guarded eyes and his carefully constructed distance was starting to feel like a betrayal.
You decided to confront him during sparring. It was the perfect environmentâyou were already sweating, already aggressive, the physical exertion making it harder for him to hide behind his mask of composure. The end of the round always left the two of you facing each other, heaving for breath, skin flushed and slick with heat.
You came at him hard that day, your hits aiming for his ribs with a little more force than necessary. He blocked you with ease, his movements efficient and flawless, but his expression was unreadable, his eyes focused somewhere in the middle distance.
"You're fighting like an old man," you taunted, twisting your wrist to knock his blade aside, the wood clacking loudly in the clearing. "What's the matter? Did your little practice session with Naya tire you out that much?"
Neteyamâs jaw tightened, a muscle feathering beneath the blue stripe of his skin. He parried your strike, pushing you back a step, but he didn't retort. "Focus. Don't get sloppy."
"I'm not sloppy," you shot back, feinting left before lunging right, forcing him to retreat. "I'm curious. You've been moping around for days. Did the 'practice' not go as planned? Did she realize you have no game?"
"Enough," he bit out, dodging a sweep of your leg with a fluidity that was annoying. "Concentrate on the match."
"No," you huffed, circling him, watching for an opening. "I don't want to concentrate. I want to know why my best friend is acting like I kicked his direhorse."
You engaged him in a flurry of blows, the sound of wood striking wood echoing through the clearing, a rhythm that usually settled your mind but now only fueled your irritation. "Is it me? Did I do something wrong? Because you've been weird since that night on our spot."
Neteyam didn't answer. He just grunted, deflecting a heavy hit that would have bruised your shoulder if he hadn't caught it with a dull thud.
"Or what," you pressed, your voice rising with frustration as you realized he was just blocking, refusing to engage with you verbally. "Did you and Naya have a lover's quarrel? Are you courting her now? Is that why you can't tell me anything?"
The thought tasted like bile in your mouth. You didn't know why the idea of him courting someone made your stomach churn, why the image of him whispering sweet nothings to Naya made your grip on your wooden weapon tighten until your knuckles turned white.
"I swear, Neteyam," you snapped, swinging low. "If you're already hiding your child from meâ"
You didn't see the opening until it was too late. You were too busy talking, too distracted by your own annoyance to notice the way his weight shifted, the way he stopped blocking and started hunting.
You lunged, expecting him to deflect. Instead, he stepped inside your guard, hooked his leg behind yours, and used your own momentum against you.
The world spun. Your back hit the hard-packed ground with a bone-rattling thud, knocking the wind out of you in a painful rush. Before you could even gasp, Neteyam was on you. He pinned your wrists to the ground above your head, his knees pressing into your thighs to keep you still.
It was a standard pin. Youâd been in this position a hundred times, wrestling in the mud since you were tadpoles.
"Yield," he demanded, his face hovering inches from yours, his breath coming in sharp bursts that fanned hot against your cheek.
You stared up at him, caught off guard by the sudden intensity in his golden eyes. He looked angry, his ears pinned back flat against his skull, his pupils blown wide. But there was something else there tooâsomething wild and frantic that made your heart stutter in your chest.
But you weren't about to lose that easily. Not when he was being this insolent.
"Not a chance," you wheezed, struggling against his hold, bucking your hips wildly.
Since you couldn't break his grip on your wrists, you decided to play dirty. It was a joke, a trick you hadn't pulled since you were kids, born of pure desperation to wipe that serious look off his face. You jerked your head up, aiming to headbutt him just enough to startle him so you could buck him off.
But Neteyam anticipated it. He jerked his head back to avoid the collision, shifting his weight to keep you pinned. The change in center of gravity threw him off balance just enough.
He stumbled, his grip on your wrists slipping. You didn't shove him away. Instead, you grabbed the side of the waistband of his loincloth and yanked, hard.
He lost his footing completely and toppled sideways with a grunt, rolling onto his back in the dirt. Before he could recover, you scrambled on top of him, laughing triumphantly as you straddled his waist, pinning his shoulders to the ground.
"Ha!" you crowed, breathless and grinning down at him, your hair falling over your face like a curtain. "Who's sloppy now?"
You expected him to laugh. You expected him to buck you off or make a snide comment about how he let you win to preserve your ego. You were waiting for the familiar spark of competition in his eyes, the warmth that always settled between you after a good fight.
Instead, he froze.
The laughter died in your throat as you looked down at him. Neteyam wasn't moving. He was staring up at you with an expression you couldn't readâhis eyes wide, dark, and swimming with something that looked dangerously like panic. His chest was heaving under you, his breath hitching in his throat like he was choking on air.
For a second, time seemed to stretch, thin and taut. He looked terrified. Of you? Of this? You didn't know.
"Neteyam?" you asked, your smile faltering, your voice barely a whisper. "You okay?"
For a beat, he didn't blink. His gaze dropped to your mouth, lingering there for a heartbeat that felt like a lifetime, before snapping back up to your eyes. The raw need you saw there was so visceral it made your breath catch, a sharp, electric shock that ran down your spine.
Then, his face crumpled. Panic seized him, raw and ugly. He squeezed his eyes shut, his jaw clenching hard enough to grind his teeth.
"Get off," he ground out, his voice strangled, like he was in physical pain.
"What?"
"Get off!" He shoved you, harder than he meant to, his hands rough against your shoulders, sending you tumbling backward into the dirt.
You sat up, dazed and confused, wiping the dust from your cheek, watching as he scrambled to his feet. He didn't offer you a hand. He didn't look at you. He just turned on his heel and walked away, his strides long and jagged, his tail lashing behind him like a whip.
You stared at his retreating back, your hands still tingling from the heat of his skin, completely lost. The silence he left behind was louder than any shout.
"Fine!" you shouted at the trees, irritation rising up to mask the weird, hollow hurt blooming in your chest. "Walk away, skxawng! See if I care!"
You didn't chase after him. You sat in the dirt for a long time, staring at the trees until the cool evening air prickled your skin, and then you picked yourself up and went home. You ignored him. Fully and completely.
The next few days were an exercise in cold war. You woke up, you trained, and you found reasons to be anywhere he wasn't. If he was on the flight line, you suddenly became very interested in helping the weavers gather fibers. If he was near the river, you took your meals with the young hunters who were usually too loud for your taste. You laughed at their jokes, you joined their conversations, and you pretended not to see the way Neteyam stood on the periphery of the camp, his eyes following you like a lost hawk, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides.
It was petty, maybe. Immature, definitely. But you were hurt, and you didn't have the energy to dissect why his rejection had stung so sharply when you were supposed to be just his friend.
Neteyam, for his part, was spiraling. He hadn't slept in two days. He was walking around in a haze of self-loathing that was potent enough to choke on. He felt like the biggest asshole to ever walk Pandora. Being cold to you was bad enoughâhe knew that, he hated himself for the way heâd shut you outâbut the memory of you on the ground when he pushed you made him want to let himself get devoured by a thanator.
He kept seeing your face. The shock in your eyes when he shoved you. The way your laughter had died so abruptly, replaced by a confusion that cut deeper than any knife. You didn't deserve that. You had been with him since birth, literally. You were the one who held his hair back when he was sick and the one who patched his bruises when he fell. You believed in him when he was convinced he was a failure, carrying the weight of a title he hadn't even earned yet.
And you had helped him. You had helped him with the most humiliating, desperate secret he had, trying to teach him how to kiss even though it wasn't your job. You had tried to be a good friend, and what had he given you in return? A cold shoulder and a shove to the ground.
He wanted to give you the best. He wanted to be the friend you deserved, the steady presence you relied on. He wanted to scrub his brain clean of the way he had felt when you were straddling him, the way his heart had hammered against his ribs like a trapped bird.
He didn't know when it happened. He didn't know how it started. He had chalked it up to familiarity for yearsâyou were just there. You were part of him, like his arm or his tail. Being around you was as natural as breathing. But deep down, in the dark, quiet part of his mind where he kept his fears, he knew the truth was far more dangerous.
Normal friends didn't think about kissing their friends.
He was in trouble. He was in so much trouble.
But he couldn't keep going on like this. He couldn't keep watching you drift away toward other groups, other people, laughing without him. He needed to fix this. He needed to act better. He needed to push the feelings down, lock them away, and just be Neteyam again. Your Neteyam.
One evening, as the sun began to dip below the horizon, painting the sky in bruised purples and deep reds, he found himself climbing the vine ladder to the platform. It was a risk. You might not even be there. Or worse, you might tell him to get lost.
But luck, for once, seemed to be on his side.
When he hauled himself over the edge of the wooden platform, you were there. You were sitting with your back against the trunk of the tree, your knees pulled up to your chest, staring out at the forest with a distant look. You didn't look at him immediately, but your ears flicked back, betraying that you knew he was there.
Neteyam stood there for a moment, his heart hammering a frantic rhythm against his ribs. He felt awkward, too large for his own skin.
"Hey," he managed to say, his voice rougher than he intended.
You didn't turn. You didn't tell him to leave, but you didn't invite him to sit either. "Hey."
The silence stretched, taut and uncomfortable. It wasn't the comfortable silence of your childhood.
Neteyam took a tentative step forward, his hands raised slightly, palms out, like he was approaching a spooked animal. "Can I... can I sit?"
You shrugged, a minimal movement of your shoulders. "It's a free world."
He let out a breath he didn't know he was holding and sat down. Not in his usual spot right next to you, but a respectable distance awayâclose enough to talk, far enough away that he wouldn't accidentally touch you. He leaned back against the wood, mimicking your posture, staring out at the view.
"I didn't kiss Naya," he said abruptly.
You blinked, turning to look at him with a frown. You scoffed, the sound harsh in the quiet evening air. "What?"
Neteyam flinched at the skepticism in your voice. He turned his head, his expression earnest and almost desperate. "I didn't. I never went to her. I didn't go to any of them."
You stared at him, your mind struggling to process the non-sequitur. This was what he wanted to talk about? After days of giving you the cold shoulder, after shoving you in the dirt and walking away without a word, he was leading with a correction about his love life?
"Okay?" you said, your voice dripping with annoyance. "Why are you telling me this? You can kiss whoever you want, Neteyam. You don't need permission from me."
"I know that," he said quickly, his ears flicking back nervously. "But I wanted you to know. I lied to you the other night. When I said it was fine. It wasn't fine because it didn't happen."
You rolled your eyes, turning away to stare back at the sunset. "Great. Good for you. You wasted a week of my life being moody because you lied about a girl. Can we move on now?"
"No, listen," he insisted, his voice rising slightly with a thread of panic. "I lied because I couldn't do it. I couldn't go to them."
"Why not?" you snapped, turning back to glare at him. "Too good for them? Only the best for the future Oloâeyktan? Why did you even take my advice anyway?"
"Because it wasn't them," he blurted out, the words rushing out of him like water breaking through a dam. "It was supposed to be you."
The air left your lungs in a rush. You stared at him, your mouth slightly open, your brain screeching to a halt. "What?"
Neteyam looked like he was about to be sick. His face was flushed a deep, dark indigo, and he wouldn't look you in the eye. "That day. At Ayram alusĂŹng. When I asked you who I could practice with... I wasn't asking you to set me up."
You felt your heart begin to hammer against your ribs, a slow, heavy thud that echoed in your ears. "I... what do you mean?"
"I meant..." He swallowed hard, his throat clicking. "I wanted it to be you. I was trying to work up the nerve to ask you to teach me. But I got scared. I thought it would mess everything up. So I lied."
You stared at him, your mind reeling. You felt shocked, confused, and strangely, terrifyingly flustered. The idea of Neteyamâyour best friendâwanting to practice with you seemed absurd, impossible. And yet, the way he was sitting there, vibrating with tension, made it feel terrifyingly real.
"Say it again," you whispered, your voice barely audible.
He let out a long, shaky breath, his eyes squeezing shut. "I want you to teach me. I want to practice with you. Please."
You didn't answer. You couldn't. Your brain was short-circuiting. You were just sitting there, frozen, while the implications of his request washed over you in waves.
Neteyam took your silence as rejection. His shoulders slumped, defeated. "It's okay," he murmured, starting to stand up. "I shouldn't have asked. It was stupid. I'll never askâ"
"Okay."
The word escaped you before you could think better of it, a sharp, breathless sound that stopped him in his tracks. He froze, looking back at you with wide eyes.
You swallowed hard, your face burning. "Yes. Okay. I'll... I'll help you."
Neteyam sat back down, slowly, like he was afraid sudden movements might scare you off. He looked at you, really looked at you, and you saw the raw vulnerability in his gaze. "Yeah?"
"Yeah," you managed, your heart hammering so hard you felt light-headed. "But... I don't really know how either. I haven't... I mean, I haven't done this either."
He let out a breath that sounded like a laugh, relieved and anxious all at once. "Okay. That's... that's good. We can figure it out."
The silence that followed was different. It was heavy, but not with tension this time. It was heavy with anticipation. You could feel the heat radiating off him from where you sat.Â
You moved closer, the rough wood of the platform scraping under your legs. You reached out, resting your hand tentatively on his knee. He jumped slightly at the contact, then leaned into your touch.
"Are you nervous?" you asked, a teasing lilt in your voice despite the hammering of your own heart.
"Terrified," he admitted, a crooked smile tugging at his lips. "I feel like I'm going to mess it up."
"You won't," you said. "Just... come here."
The proximity was dizzying. You could see the flecks of lighter gold in his eyes, the way his breath hitched slightly when you leaned in. He stared at your mouth, then up at your eyes, then down at your hands, his Adam's apple bobbing nervously.
"So," he whispered, his voice cracking on the single syllable. "We just...?"
"I think so," you murmured, your heart hammering. "Just... lean in."
He leaned in, but the angle was wrong. He hesitated, his eyes wide and searching, and when he finally moved, his forehead collided with yours in a dull thud.
You both flinched, letting out startled hisses of pain.
"Ow," you laughed, rubbing your forehead. "Watch the target, Neteyam."
"Sorry," he breathed, letting out a nervous chuckle that sounded more like a wheeze. "Iâm... I'm really clueless.â
"It's fine," you said, dropping your hand from your forehead to rest on his knee. "Just try again. Slower."
He took a deep breath, exhaling it shakily against your cheek. This time, when he leaned in, he didn't rush. He moved with agonizing slowness, giving you plenty of time to pull away. You didn't. You held your ground, your eyes fluttering shut as his face filled your vision.
When his lips finally touched yours, it was... underwhelming.
It was just a press of skin against skin. He didn't move, just held his mouth there, frozen, like he was waiting for something to happen. You felt the puff of his breath against your upper lip, heard the loud, rushing sound of his own breathing, but there was no spark.
He pulled back an inch, his nose brushing your cheek. "Like that?"
"Um," you opened your eyes, blinking rapidly. "I think... maybe you need to move them? A little?"
"Oh. Right. Movement."
He leaned in again. This time, his lips parted slightly, and he pressed them against yours firmly. He moved his head, a jerky, experimental tilt to the side, and the friction increased. It felt clumsyâtoo much teeth, too much pressure, like he was trying to eat rather than kiss.
You tried to follow his lead, but it was impossible to find a rhythm. You felt awkward, self-conscious, and strangely tall. Your nose kept bumping into his cheekbone, and your hands were hovering awkwardly in the air, unsure where to land.
Neteyam seemed to sense the discord. He let out a frustrated huff against your mouth and pulled back, his brow furrowed. "This feels wrong. I feel like I'm attacking you."
"You're not attacking me," you reassured him, though your lips felt a little raw. "We're just... figuring it out. Here, let me..."
You scooted closer, closing the gap between your legs. You reached up, cupping his face in your hands to steady him. His skin was hot, burning under your palms. "Stop thinking about technique. Just... relax."
"Okay," he whispered, his eyes on yours. "Relax. Okay."
You leaned in this time, guiding him. You slanted your lips over his, softer than before, and kissed him with intent. You felt his breath hitch, a sharp intake of air through his nose, and then, finally, he softened.
He stopped fighting the logic of it and just let it happen.
The shift was instantaneous.
Whatever awkwardness had held him back vanished the moment he committed. His lips, which had been stiff and unsure, suddenly moved with terrifying precision. He stopped the jerky, uncertain motions and instead copied the exact pressure you were using, thenâmaddeninglyâdoubled it.
He tilted his head, aligning your mouths perfectly to avoid the awkward nose-bumping, and deepened the kiss. It wasn't clumsy anymore; it was intentional. He was watching your reactions, cataloging every gasp and shiver, and using it against you.
"Oh," you breathed, barely breaking the contact, surprised by the sudden competence. "That's... that's better."
"Yeah?" he murmured against your mouth, his voice dropping an octave, sounding suddenly much more confident.
His hands, which had been hovering awkwardly, suddenly found your waist with a surety that made your knees weak. He pulled you forward, eliminating the last inch of space, and kissed you like he was trying to memorize the taste of you.
It became wet, fast. You didn't know who opened their mouth first, but suddenly the seal between your lips broke, and his tongue was sweeping into yours. It wasn't hesitant now. He explored your mouth with a slow, thorough intensity that made your head spin.
Neteyam groaned, a sound you felt vibrate through your chest, low and possessive. His hands abandoned your waist to slide up your back, pressing you closer until your chest was flush against his. You could feel his heartbeat, thudding rapidly against your ownâor maybe that was yours.
He was a terrifyingly fast learner. Within seconds, he went from an unsure novice to the most overwhelming experience of your life. He nipped gently at your lower lip, soothing the sting with his tongue, and when you gasped, he took the opportunity to deepen the kiss further, angling his head to change the sensation.
"Neteyam," you gasped, pulling back for a split second to breathe, your eyes fluttering open to find him already looking at you.
His eyes were dark, blown wide with arousal, but his gaze was sharp, focused.Â
"Too much?" he asked, his voice rough and breathless.
"No," you whined, embarrassed by how needy you sounded. "Just... don't stop."
He smirkedâa real, cocky smirk that was so purely Neteyam it made your stomach flip. "As you wish."
He leaned back in, capturing your lips again, and this time, his hands were bolder. They slid down to your hips, gripping you firmly, and before you could process the movement, he tugged you.
You gasped as you lost your balance, your legs swinging over his hips until you were straddling his lap. The new position changed everything. You settled onto him, and the friction was immediate and overwhelming.
Neteyam froze for a split second, a strangled sound catching in his throat as he realized exactly where you were sitting. But then his instincts took over.Â
His hands gripped your ass, pulling you flush against him, and he rolled his hips up into yours. The movement was devastatingly controlled.
You cried out into his mouth, your head falling back as pleasure shot through you. He was hardâyou could feel the distinct outline of him pressing against you through the loinclothâbut he didn't grind frantically like you might have expected. He moved with a slow rhythm, dragging you against him to maximize the friction.
The kiss became sloppy, open-mouthed and breathless. You were panting into each other's mouths, saliva mixing, the wet, slick sounds of your lips echoing obscenely in the quiet night air.
"Feels good," he slurred against your jaw, his mouth trailing hot, wet kisses down the line of your throat, sucking on the sensitive skin where your pulse raced. "So good... you taste so good."
"Yeahâfuck, how are you so good?" you whined, your fingers digging into his shoulders, your hips rolling of their own accord, meeting his thrusts. "Don't stop."
You were grinding against him with abandon now, chasing a feeling you didn't quite understand but desperately needed. He was guiding your movements, his large hands spanning your waist, setting a pace that was driving you both out of your minds. You felt his tail wrap around your thigh, squeezing tight, anchoring you to him.
It was lewd. It was intense. And Neteyam, the boy who had been trembling with nerves five minutes ago, was now kissing you like he had invented the act.
You felt the tension in your belly coil tighter and tighter, a winding spring of pleasure that was becoming too much to handle. You were getting lost in it, lost in the heat of his mouth and the strength of his hands.
And thenâreality crashed in.
Maybe it was the drag of his fangs against your skin a little too hard, or the realization of exactly what you were dry-humping on a platform fifty feet in the air, but suddenly the haze cleared. You felt the blatant, rock-hard outline of him beneath you, and felt your own desperate movements, lewd and unmistakable.
You froze.
Neteyam froze a second later, his breath hitching in his throat. He seemed to realize the position you were inâyou on his lap, his hands gripping your ass, your bodies locked together in a rhythm that had nothing to do with kissing and everything to do with mating.
Slowly, agonizingly, you pulled back.
The air between you was frigid compared to the heat of a moment ago. Your lips were swollen, your chest heaving, and you could see the dark flush of arousal staining Neteyam's neck and chest. He looked wrecked.
You scrambled off his lap, your movements clumsy and ungraceful. You practically threw yourself backward, putting as much distance between you as possible. You ended up near the edge of the platform, crossing your legs tightly, your face burning so hot you thought you might spontaneously combust.
Neteyam didn't move. He stayed where he was, his hands resting on his thighs, staring at the wood where you had just been sitting. He looked stunned.
The silence stretched, thick and suffocating. You hugged your knees to your chest, trying to hide your trembling, wishing the ground would just open up and swallow you whole. You had just dry-humped your best friend. What was wrong with you?
Finally, Neteyam let out a shaky breath. He ran a hand over his face, wiping the sweat from his brow. He didn't look at you.
"That was..." he started, his voice rough and hoarse. "That was nice."
You stared at him, your eyes wide. "Nice?"
He glanced at you then, a sheepish, crooked grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Yeah. Nice. Really... really nice."
You let out a nervous laugh, the tension in your chest easing just a fraction. "Yeah. It was... okay. I mean, for a first try."
He leaned back against the tree, looking up at the stars, though you could see his ears were still pinned back with embarrassment. "I think we're going to need a lot more practice."
"Maybe," you said, your heart still racing, your body thrumming with leftover energy. "If you can handle it."
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Warnings: MDNI 18+, explicit language, smut, p in v, squirting, oral receiving (m&f), spanking, kissing, mentions of gunshots, blood, bleeding, death, exclusive relationships.
Word Count:Â 28.3k
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Part two now out
Blood soaked the stone beneath him.
Neteyam lay sprawled on the jagged rock, gasping. The sea sprayed cool waves splashing water against his skin. The bullet wound buried in his chest burned like fire, but the real pain was deeper, each breath becoming harder to take. He tried to listen to what his parents where saying, to Loâak and Tsireya, but their words fell on almost deaf ears. He could hear their voices mixed with the distant chaos; shouts, gunshots, even the churn of the ocean, but everything was fading behind the haze of the pain.
He turned his head looking around maybe if he looked at them, he could focus on what they were saying. Neteyam is not anything if not determined. He wanted to do whatever he can even though he was currently in the worst shape of his life.
âNeteyamâŚyour sistersâŚhold on my son!â His mothers voice rang from what he could pick up.
âHold on boyâŚhelp is comingâ his fatherâs voice was vulnerable clearly having a rough time keeping it together.
Loâak did not even try to hide his sobs as he held onto neteyam tightly, whether his hands could reach, âplease donât leave meâŚ. sorryâŚsorryâŚnever run off again!â His sobs and shouts were the loudest.
Tsireya didnât say much, quiet sobs by his feet as she gave his family space, but she was one of his best friends now, she cried, and she cared about him so much. He didnât want her first experience with war and death to be her best friend dying.
Loâak didnât want to leave, he didnât want to go, but his sisters were in danger, and he knew where they were being held. Jake was adamant they get them back before more of his children were injured, before neteyam died so they could say goodbye. Tsireya, she didnât not want to be alone running behind Loâak to keep her safe. Neytiri angrily bonded with her ikran taking off in the sky, her wild eyes looking back at him once before taking off.
They thought he had already gone to Eywa when his eyes shut, and his breathing leveled when he tried to calm his heart. They thought he was no longer with them. They did not see the way his fingers twitched as he tried to raise his hand, he wanted to call out to them; to tell them he had den gone yet. But the strength was not there
Now Neteyam was alone, they vanished, and he didnât know what to make out of it. They left him? Would they make it back? Being the sweet boy he is neteyam prayed to Eywa they would make it back before it was his time. He prayed he could get to see his parents, siblings, before he was taken to be one with Eywa. He wanted to hold on.
Right on time, you gasp for air climbing out of the water coughing up whatever had almost made you give up and drown, you climb onto the rock and unclip your bag taking it off your shoulders and dropping it beside you, your hands push your air out of your face as you coughed on all fours. You didnât even notice him; he wasnât your concern. It was only after you caught your breath did you see him laying there, his seemingly lifeless body.
You donât know him, clearly, he is naâvi, not metkayina so from the forest, a Sully? One of his boys. You move closer and neteyam hears your light, soft footsteps. They were too deliberate for an animal but too light for the heavy boots that soldiers wear. His eyes were closed; he couldnât open them even if he wanted to. He felt all too exposed; he canât move but heâs conscious about his surroundings like some kind of sleep paralysis in a nightmare.
The shoes make slow steps towards him getting closer and closer. It was a whisper of movement, strange. He wasnât sure if it was an enemy, but he knows itâs not familiar. You crouch down next to him, you thought maybe you could make him out, but you canât. Your hand slowly moves to his face touching his cheek softly, its still warm, hot even.
You look down at his body, the blood still oozed out of his wound. âWas he even dead?â The thought ran across your mind.
Your eyes darted around to see if anyone was coming back before your fingers slowly moved to under his nose, after a brief moment you felt his warm exhale hit your fingers, âheâs aliveâ
âYouâre still breathing...â Your hands fly to his chest closing to wound to prevent anymore blood loss, he must be so weak by now he was in so much pain he passed out, or was that from the blood loss? You werenât sure. Either way you didnât want to let him die. âJust hold on...â you raise your head again this time looking for the backpack you have discarded.
Quickly you let go of him and ran to get to backpack before running back, ripping it open you pull out a soaked t-shirt, âitâll work.â You make quick work of ringing out any water you could before you cover his wound to prevent more blood loss.
âShitâŚâ you mumble, you know you canât save him here, you have to take him where you have supplies. Neteyam doesnât know what to do, not that he can do anything. He hears a womanâs voice. He hears her trying to reassure him he wonât die, he felt her hands trying to stop the blood, so he wasnât as alarmed as he was a few minutes ago, in fact he felt a bit comforted someone was trying to save him when everyone though there wasnât anyone to save.
âOkay I know you probably canât respond, maybe you canât hear me at all and Iâm talking to myself like an idiot, but I need to move you.â You waited a few seconds as if he was going to answer but he didnât, you called out for your ikran that landed beside you in less than a minute. You look back down at his body, he was tall, muscular, definitely heavy. After a deep breath you clutched his arms over your head and lifted his deadweight on your back, settling him on your ikran you took off quickly in the direction of safety.
You were sure no one saw you considered most of the clan had retreated when the ship sunk and it was the middle of eclipse. You flew into the darkness at unmatched speed, holding onto him tightly so he wouldnât accidentally fall off and actually die. Your adrenaline was pumping through you, the air felt cold against your soaking wet clothes, you couldnât wait to get a minute to really breathe.
You made your way to the top of a cliff where just beyond the tree line was a house, it was so human like if someone saw the cabin its look almost like it was on earth, if it wasnât for the unique Pandora trees and flowers. You landed swiftly and leaned neteyam on your ikran before jumping off.
You ran into the cabin going straight for the medically cabinet you kept stocked, and pulling out some gauzes, medical tape and surgical kit. You ran back to him and pulled him off the ikran. His body his the grassy with a loud thump, but you heard it. A small groan from his lips, it hit but he was there, alive, responsive.
âI am sorry, I know that must have hurt. But what I have to do will hurt even moreâ you speak softly to him almost comforting him before you turn on a small flashlight and held it between your teeth and rip the blood t-shirt off, when you lifted him earlier you saw the exit wound so no bullet in him is one less thing for you to take care off.
You open the gauze and wipe the blood holding it against the wound. His eyes were shut tightly and his brow line furrowed. You know he is about to feel what you're going to do. You use your elbow to hold the gauze in place as you thread the surgical needle. âIâm sorry, Iâm sorry. This is going to hurt, but only for a second.â you repeat yourself over and over as if he could acknowledge you in a muffled voice.
You took out a needle filled with lidocaine and slowly injecting it in certain parts around to wound to numb it, âI donât even know if this works on naâviâ you mumble to yourself. Taking a deep breath, you started to sew up to the wound, slightly pulling his touch skin to close it up. Thankfully, you know an artery wasnât damaged otherwise he would have bled out by now.
âAlmost done..â you whisper before I rip the thread with my teeth and knot it. I sigh in relief as the bleeding in the front stops and I turn him over and do the same to the wound on his back. The last knot tight ended under your fingers the bleeding stopped, just barely.
You take a deep breath and lean back sitting next to his body on the floor spitting out the flashlight. You noticed his breathing was no longer quick and low but more normal, so you must have done something right. You look over the cliff at the eclipse and the way it reflected so beautifully on the open ocean.
Your heartbeat was stabilizing, you didnât realize how much of an autopilot you were operating on until your arms started to feel tired, after all you did hold onto him very tightly. From what you could tell he was out like a light now, if he wasnât before you werenât sure. You had to move him inside. You look back at him, he was clearly a solider, he had the build. He was young, maybe your age? You werenât sure. All your questions would be answered in due time, or maybe heâd kill you and run back to his family either way you canât say you regret saving him.
You never much cared about how human affect the environment here on Pandora, your job was not to hunt down any naâvi who were trying to live in peace, no. Your job was the protect the people on the ship, it was your only job, to keep humans from dying on pandora. You knew what they were doing killing of the tulkun for the youth serum, but until the day you saw them kill the tulkun close to the clan. You didnât care.
How could they be so unloving as to kill a member of someoneâs family? They knew very well that was the relationship between the tulkun and the ocean naâvi. What if it were their family member? Their mother or baby? Only then will they decide these acts are vile. Maybe that is why you decided to save him.
You stand up and walk around his body until you were standing at him head, you drop to your knees sliding your arms under his to lift his upper body off the ground. You noticed how long he was before but now you must have underestimated before. He was at least a foot taller than you.
The first pull is the hardest his weight fights against you to bring him in. Your teeth gritted as you continued until you made it over the rocky ledge and inside the cabin through the back balcony glass doors. You didnât drop him as you look upped the stairs where the bedrooms were, and you take a long heavy sigh.
Instead of suffering through every step you settling to laying him down on the black L shaped leather couch. Carefully you adjust his body putting his legs up on the couch one by one until you he was in a comfortable enough position you could let him rest. You started a fire before making sure to lock all windows and doors and drawing all the curtains. The only source of light was the first and the dim kitchen light behind the couch.
You got a damp cloth from the kitchen and decided to clean his wounds best you could in his position. You sank down leaning back on the base of the couch looking at him, his braids still had traces of blood, but heâd have to lose them out and wash it. Your eyes darted over the bandage, no fresh blood so you took a breath.
You were exhausted, you could just take a nap right there, but you were soaking wet and also covered in blood, so you decided to take a shower. Itâs not like he would go anywhere.
The hot water was well needed, washing off all the blood and salty water was heavenly, the shower made the mirrors and glass door steam up, but you enjoyed it. You had recently run out of soap and had to make some from a purple flower your found growing wild outside, it was nice and no poisonous which you checked multiple times. It smells like nothing youâve ever smelled before it was amazing, it brought you so much peace and tranquility you didnât know a scent could do that.
The water hit you skin like a whisper at first, then a rush. You braced your hands against the wall, letting it pour over you, washing the blood away in slow red spirals down the drain. Your brain was fogged with thoughts of the man downstairs on your couch, this would have been the first time in your entire life you ever let a stranger in your home and that was before you were even an avatar.
You pad down the stairs now dressed in a tank top and pj shorts with your lace bra peaking out the top of the tank top, you werenât worried about it you were sure heâd probably wake up tomorrow rather than tonight. You walk over to the kitchen and put the kettle on to heat up some water to make some tea.
Afterwards you sat on the other side of the couch where his feet were, your tea sat in the coffee table in front of you and take the throw blankets off your side of the couch using one to cover him from the waist down and the other to cover yourself. You couldnât pinpoint why it was so important to you he stayed safe and warm, but you didnât want to think too much into it.
Before you could get comfortable you noticed an object on his hip that seemed out of place under the blanket. Carefully you pulled it back and saw his knife. It was natural heâd have one, almost every naâvi youâd encountered had their own personalized knife, whether it was a specific carving or bead even the blade they were all special.
Slowly you take the entire holder out of his tweng and set it right there on the coffee table. So, when he did eventually wake up, heâll see itâs still right there. It was a beautiful knife. Clearly one of the Omatikayan with the intricate carvings. The handle was wood covered with leather and waxed thread from a beanstalk palm, and the blade was the size of your entire forearm, it was made of some kind of bone, you could wrong, but it looked like a piece of bone from a large predator he carved into a sharpened tip and stained to have a darker brown color.
The handle also had a small bead attached to it, it was tied on using a thread, but it was beautiful, contrast to the dark scary color of the rest of the knife, the bead was a very pretty pink, it was a color that wasnât all that common, at least not that youâve seen. It was not perfectly round but shaped almost like a jagged flower. This part of his knife was definitely a gift, and it felt deeply personal.
âWowâŚâ you whispered to yourself. You wondered if he had made himself or if it was gifted to him by someone special, you were aware they did that sometimes, for close families and mates. You didnât even know if he was mated, what if you casually kidnapped someoneâs husband. They could be crying right now thinking he was dead, even though you did save his life.
You sat back in your stop your body facing him as you leaned against the couch and pulled the blanket over your shoulders. With a slow breath you shift into the corner of the couch and tuck your legs up, letting your body sink into the cushions. It was quiet now, just the rhythmic sound of the waves crashing against the cliff and his low breaths on the other side of the couch.
You let your eyes drift back to him once more, heâs so strong, strained. Yes heâs battered and braised, but still he is composed. Like heâs always been built to endure. You reach out distinctively to pull the blanket over his wore out feet properly tucking it in as if he was a child.
âYou better now die on me nowâŚor wake up and kill me cause Iâll be pissedâ
The words were whispered before you could stop them.
Your head tilted back and hit the top of the couch before you shut your eyes, you donât know when you fell asleep. One minute you were looking at him with half lidded eyes and the next your eyes were closed but you still saw him laying in front of you.
The fire had long since dimmed, its light reduced to a soft amber glow that flicker against the walls. Outside, the world had quieted, only distant crashes of waves and the whisper of wind through the trees remained.
You were curled up on the other end of the couch, blanket was tangled in your legs and your head reacted against the cool cushion, exhaustedly asleep. Moonlight washed through the windows, pale and silvery, pooling across the floor up the side of Neteyamâs face through the slit in the curtain.
His fingers twitched.
Then again, but more deliberately this time. A shallow inhale rattled through his chest, strained and dry. He winced as he tried to move slightly, his brow tightening as his senses crawled back one by one to him. The stiffness in his limbs and ache in his chest, the softness of the blanket that was pulled over his abdomen.
And the scent.
Not the salty waters at the metkayina clan he became so accustomed too, not the scent of blood that lingered in the battles field.
Something warm, clean, unfamiliar but also familiar in a way he couldnât place.
His eyes slowly opened, slits at first. They felt grainy, like sand. His eyes adjusted to the low lighting of the room, the wooden ceilings, and wooden walls. A soft rhythmic sound, âwaves?â a cliffside?
It definitely wasnât home.
He moved slights and pain bloomed in his chest, it was bound, hints of blood that wasnât cleaned properly against his skin felt dry.
Then he saw you. A girl, slumped at the bend of the couch wrapped loosely in a blanket, chest rising and falling slowly. You werenât human, he hinted the extra finger you had. You were an avatar. Your breathing was peaceful, unbothered, but he could almost see the exhaustion.
Neteyam stared for a while, a long moment. His heart thumbed weakly against bruised ribs, the pain was real, the exhaustion was deeper, but he wasnât dead.
And he just knew that was because of you.
Then you stirred.
By a noise. Not loud, just a soft scrape, shift of weight against the leather. Your eyes open slowly before the rest of your body moves. You know thereâs a chance this man will risk his life again just to kill you, being an unfamiliar avatar and all.
Your eyes darted around until you saw him shifting in the darkness, with a breath you sat up, âyouâre awakeâ your voice comes out soft.
His body shifts, his face drawn tight in pain that he tried to mask. But his eyes were open, locked directly on you. You shift to stand up reaching for the bottle of water that was on the coffee table.
You barely got to move when he snatched his knife off the table and held it up. Given his very injured situation you were impressed he was able to act so quickly, you were right, he is a warrior.
âWoah, waitâ you say gently, hands raised.
His grip was trembling from the lose of blood, you were sure. âWho the hell are you?â He hissed, âwhy did you bring me where?â
âYou were dying- shotâ you point to his chest, âI stopped the bleeding, stitched you upâ your voice was low.
Distrust etched in ever tense line in his body, âyouâre with the RDAâ he hissed once more, âyour kind is the reason this happened! The reason I was shot!â His eyes narrowed on you.
âIâm not them- I didnât shoot yo-â
âWhere am I?â He asked hoarsely.
âSafe, youâre safeâ you replied.
âThatâs not what I askedâ
A moment of silence cranked between you. You sat up slowly not moving from your side of the couch.
âStay back!â He hissed
âIâm not movingâ you say to reassure him, but you arenât sure how much it helped.
You look down at his bandage before looking back at him face making sure he didnât accidentally rip them.
âWhat is this place?â He asked you, his voice cracked.
âThis is myâŚhome, I guess. The RDA base is...far- very far from here so you donât have to worry. It was close to where the ship went down so I brought you here to stop the bleeding and stitch it up.â You explain hoping to help him get answers.
âI know you are distrustful, and this is a weird situation but Iâm not trying to hurt youâ your tone was soft.
âThen why did you bring me here?!â His voice cracked again.
âI wouldnât have been allowed into the clan even if I were to bring you back. I would have been killing on the spot. I know that you ran with your family from the forest. Thatâs the whole reason Quaritch commandeered the ship in the first place. I brought you here cause know one knows about this cabin, you canâŚhealâ
His grip on the knife faltered slightly but he didnât drop it. âI see how this could beâŚunbelievable. But I promise Iâm not here to hurt you, or anyone. That was never my intention when I joined the RDA, and I.. have held at least that part of my morals up.â
âYou flew me here, I remember on your ikran, how did you get it?â He asked his voice was calmer this time but not as calm as he should be healing from a gunshot wound.
âI have been on Pandora for years; at a certain point we need a way to get around that would waste gas. Since I work out in the ocean itâs easier to fly on an ikran than a helicopter every time we needed something from shore. It was a requirement by command that some of the avatars bonded with one.â I explain truthfully.
His eyes flicker over your body, the tank top you wore with your bra still peaking out, his eyes lingers but he didnât react, clearly you were comfortable here. And alone because humans donât dress like this in front of people. At least that much he knew.
âYou donât know meâ he bit out, âwhy risk it?â
âIâŚâ you stopped to think, you harden actually thought about it. âYou were alive when IâŚclimbed onto that rock I couldnât just let you dieâ you replied with a small shake of your head implying you were being genuine.
He didnât say anything but shifted again barely, wincing in pains
âWait- you will tear your stitches can you just lay back down? And relax?â You raise your hands hoping heâd stay down before you stand up and run to the kitchen to get a glass of water. You quickly pour it and hopped back to him.
He immediately backed away when you stepped closer than you were before, âitâs just water Iâm sure your throat hurts itâll helpâ you reassured him softly, but he was still on edge.
âHow do I know you didnât poison it?â
âValid questionâ you reply before taking a sip, âIâm not going toâŚ. poison myselfâ You steps closer, and he let you. You slowly bring the glass up to his lips and hold it for him to sip the water, âokay good, weâre getting somewhere nowâ you smile softly as he drank the water greedily.
âDo you want more?â You ask as he finished the glass, and he shook his head no.
He finally put down the knife when you put the glass down on the coffee table and sat next to it, âcan I check the stitches?â You asked softly
He didnât say anything just leaned back and nodded, âwhat is your name?â You asked softly, âI figured out that you are one of Jake Sullyâs children, but my job was not to hunt your family so I.. do not know much many children he has or your names so?â
He took a beat not saying anything only look at your face as you lifted the bandage carefully to check his stitches, âNeteyam. I am the oldest of four. Why are you helping me again?â He asked as he screws his face.
Neteyam. The name suited him, it was strong, clipped, almost regal in a way.
âI just didnât want to let you die Neteyam. And it is nice to meet you; my name is Y/nâ you said with small smile which he just nodded to.
âThe oldest huh?â You echoed as you fixed the bandage and let go of it. âThat explains the attitude.â
He huffs softly. Not quite a laugh but close.
His chin shifts slightly, âwhat is that supposed to mean?â
âNothing it just makes senseâ you smirk lightly.
He doesnât answer at first you can feel the stare and you look right back at him, direct eye contact.
âI donât trust youâ he mutters still looking at you.
Softly you replied, âI didnât ask you tooâ
âIâm not staying hereâ
His voice is rough, determined as he swings his legs off the couch and sit up. His teeth gritted as he pushed himself upright. Quickly you caught his elbow and arm to stabilize him.
âDonât be stupid, your rip your stitchesâ you said firmly.
âBetter than being a captiveâ he shoots back.
He stands barely, swaying on his feet. One of his hands actually grabbed yours to help stabilize himself since you raised with him. You catch his shoulder before his knees could buckle.
âYouâre not a captiveâ you say through gritted teeth, âand your heavy you knowâ
âNo? Then why am I still breathing?â
You hold him steady in front of you and as predicted he was at least a foot taller than you, so you had to look up at him. His breathing was shallow.
âBecause I didnât let you die. How much times will we need to go through this before you hear me?â You say quietly.
Thereâs a long beat before he lets you guide him back to sit with a grunt.
âI need to clean off this bloodâ he gestures to the dried blood you didnât get to properly clean.
âOk, but you canât bath yet, you need to keep the wound dry for the next day or two before you can wet the areaâ
He cuts your off with a glare, âThen how am I meant to clean myself? Iâm not sitting here covered in blood like some helpless thingâ
You nod slowly, âyou're not, but right now youâre not exactly invincibleâ
He doesnât say anything just settles back with a frustrated hiss. The weight of everything that happened pressed on him all at once, the wound, the blood, your presence. He hated this.
âYou cannot take a real bath yet, but you can take a sponge bath. Iâll just bring the bowl with warm water and a sponge. Itâll helpâ you suggest softly.
âI donât need-â he started flatly before you cut him off.
âYou donât have to let me do it. Iâll just bring it for you. Youâll clean what you can reachâ
He stares at you for a beat too long, his expression never gave away any feeling he had about you. Then finally, he nodded slightly, âfineâ he said begrudgingly.
Without another word you move to the kitchen to get a bowl of hot water and a clean sponge. Behind you his shoulders relaxed just a bit, enough to show he was opening up to the idea of letting you help him settle, even if he wonât admit it yet.
You return with the bowl filled with water and a clean cloth, âIâll be right backâ you put it in the coffee table and run upstairs for a towel for him to dry off with after.
You run back down the stairs, and he was already wiping the blood off his body with the cloth, âyou can dry off the water with this afterâ I say softly and drop the towel next to him. The steam from the water curls softly in the cool air.
Neteyam shifts when he sees you sit down by the bend of the couch; he eyed you wearily. âDo you always watch your patients so closely?â
âYouâre not my patient. Just a guy who was casually dying on what Iâm sure what a hard, uncomfortable rockâ a smirk tugs the corner of your lips.
âFeels like Iâm under a microscopeâ he grunted faintly, as he shifts positions slightly to clean as much of himself as he can.
âDonât flatter yourselfâ you say teasingly before you turn away to give him som privacy.
That draws a low chuckle, if was unexpected but real. When you glance over half of his was clean, slick from the water, shining in the dim cabin light. He catches your eye but doesnât look away.
His gaze isnât soft, itâs sharp, searching. As if heâs looking for a reason in your expression thatâll tell him whether or not he should trust you.
âWhat are you looking for?â He asked you in a deep voice.
You blink surprised by the question, âI wasnâtâŚ.looking for anythingâ
He huffs softly, almost a scoff, âeveryoneâs always looking for somethingâ
âThen maybe Iâm not everyoneâ you say steadily.
His eyes narrowed slightly, not in anger but studying, testing.
âThatâs what worries meâ
You lean back against the couch watching him without flinching, âI didnât drag you away from the edge of death to hurt you now.â
âDoesnât mean you wonâtâ he says flatly.
You nod softly accepting his truth, âthen keep your knife close, and donât rip your stitches and bleed on my couchâ I smirk at him.
His lip twitches barely, and for the first time the tension shifts, or doesnât fade just changes shape.
âDo you need help now? I can clean up the wound on your backâ you offer softly.
You can tell he doesnât want to say yes but there is no way he can reach without hurting himself, so he nods holding the cloth out in your direction.
You take it into your hand and walk around the couch, âlean up a bit?â You press your hand softly on his shoulder pushing him forward as you make quick and gentle work cleaning up the dry blood from his back.
âYour hair has blood in it too, when you can bath properly you should loosen your braids out and wash itâ you say softly.
âI willâ he grunted.
After I was finished, I let him lean back against the couch once more, âthere you should feel a bit cleaner nowâ
You move to start another fire considering it gets quite cold where the cabin was. The fire crackled softly in the hearth. You went to the kitchen and returned with a small bowl of broth and a cup of warm tea. Neteyam still sitting up on the couch with the blanket now dropped over his shoulders watches you with weary eyes. You put the bowl down him front him wordlessly, settling beside him again.
âFigured you could use something warmâ you say softly.
He hesitates before he picks it up with a grunt of thanks. He brings the bowl up to his lips and sips the hot broth, completely ignoring the spoon you put down next to the bowl for him to use. His ears perk up and his tail raises and hits the couch with a small thump.
He masks his reaction once more even though you already caught it and was slightly smiling at the fact he liked it. âNot badâŚfor a sky personâ
âCareful, that almost sounded like a complimentâ you smirk at him.
A faint twitch of a smile tugs at his lips but it fades quickly. He shifts; his eyes fixed on the fire a few feet in front of him, âwhy are you out here alone?â
You thought for a second, âit wasnât really the plan, just ended up this way.â You look around the cabin, taking in the decor and feeling of the space.
Silence stretches before he says, âyouâre still with the RDAâ
That wasnât a question. You nod slowly, âIâŚwork for the RDA. Doesnât mean I agree with everything they do. But itâs not my decision to makeâ I shrug softly.
âThatâs easy to say when you're not the one being hunted.â
The edge in his voice makes you pause before you nod again, he was right, âdonât worry, this place is a secret, only two people on this moon ever knew about it. One of them is dead and the other is..me. So, I can say Iâm sure your safe. And now well, you know about it.â
He looks at you sharply, surprised by your lack of defense. For a moment, neither of you say anything. Then, he shifts slightly closer, eyes flickering over your features, your hands, your eyes, mouth now and then when he thinks your not looking but you notice.
âYou speak English very wellâ you say breaking the silence tilting your head slightly.
His expression doesnât change much, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes, pride?
âMy parents taught me. I pay attentionâ he replied quietly.
He paused then adds with a sharper edge, âwhy? Are your surprised a savage can speak your mother tongue?â
His words werenât angry, but they were not soft either. He looked at you as if he was testing you.
âYou are no savage, that much Iâm sure offâ you say softly to him, âbut I guess I am surprised, I wouldnât expect your parents to want you to know anything from the sky people.â
Neteyam tilted his head slightly, his gaze was sharp.
âMy father was one of the sky people. The clan trust and follows him.â He paused, his eyes narrowing slightly. âLearning the language wasnât about wanting, it was about understand the enemy.â He clarified with pride.
âThatâs smartâ you nod with understanding, âyou canât beat someone if you donât understand themâ
Neteyam doesnât smile but his eyes stayed locked in yours, unreadable, âdo not mistake understanding for trust, Iâve seen what your people are capable of. I will not forgetâ
âYou shouldnât, your people had suffered a great deal and Iâm sorry, even though I know my apologies for it donât mean anything. It wasâŚavoidableâ you say softly.
He stares for another long moment, taking in what you said before he responds.
âYou are right it doesnât mean anything, doesnât change anythingâ he shifts slight putting down the now empty bowl, âIâm still here injured because of people like you.â
âI agree my people did this, but can we also agree Iâve done nothing but help you since IâveâŚsaw you? Maybe all humans arenâtâŚthat bad?â You say almost hopefully as if one conversation could change his perspective on you. Maybe heâd stop grouping you with those who want to hurt them, those who murder.
He took another second before answering, he clearly didnât want got admit it just like he didnât want to trust you, âyouâre right, you did help me. You could have let me die but you didnâtâ
âI canât say I like the position Iâm in now however, unfamiliar place, unfamiliar enemy which is very contradictory considering it was the enemy who saved my life. I do not want to feel like I owe you something for thatâ
Neteyam was nothing if he wasnât head strong, but you did understand where he was coming from.
âYou donât owe me anything, I donât want anything from you. You donât trust me, I can feel it, in the way you look at me like youâre waiting for me to prove your distrust rightâ
You exhale before glancing down at your blue hands, it was a lovely shade, but it definitely wasnât human. Your gaze shift to your tail, something so unnatural to you before you got used to this new body.
âI am like the man who is hunting your father. Iâm sure youâve seen him, maybe youâve even fought him. This body, this life. It is permanentâ you start softly. âI was so good at fighting as a human than the RDA just chose me to beâŚthis.â You gesture to your body
âAnd that means I live here and will die on Pandora one day and become apart of this moonâ you look back to him. âI wouldnât survive very long if all I did was flight your people, so Iâm just trying to live peacefully tooâ
Neteyamâs eyes stay on yours, you see the flicker of uncertainty shift in them. âYou speak like you want to understand what it is like to be naâviâ
He was clearly skeptical as he continued, âmany have come and said the same, words are easy, they said they wanted to learn, to be peaceful. But they lied and they invaded and took what they wanted disturbing the balance that Eywa has given us. No patience, no understanding, no care for what they were destroying.â
Your ears pinned down not knowing what to say, it honestly hadnât hit you how disruptive humans had been for the naâvi. You never had all that much interaction with them simply because that wasnât your job. You were about to say something, but he beat you too it.
âBut you saved my life and gave me food and water, helped me cleaned my wounds. It was more than I was expecting from a sky personâ he added in a softer tone.
The night after that passed. You didnât want to leave him alone just in case his wound started to bleed again so you stayed sleeping on the smaller side of the couch leaving him on the side he was on. It didnât take either of you long to fall asleep again since you both were extremely exhausted.
You stir, eyes adjusting to the light streaming in from the gaps in the curtains, you were t sure what time it was, but the sun was high in the sky. The ocean murmured waves crashing against the cliff, distant and soft.
Neteyam was already awake sitting up like he was the night before. He was watching you.
âYou didnât moveâ his voice was quiet, deep with sleep.
You turn to face him stretching slightly with the blanket still pulled to your neck, âdidnât have to, itâs my couchâ you replied softly
He glances around, ârightâ he says as he leans his head again against the couch.
âHow are you feeling?â You ask him tiredly, âany better than yesterday?â
âConsidering I just got shot, Iâd say Iâm doing fantasticâ he replies with sass.
âDonât sass me bro.â You say as you raise your hand up making a stop gesture before you push the blanket off and stand-up walking over to him.
Neteyam watches you, his body tensing slightly as you step closer, âwhat are you doing?â
âWell. I was going to check your wound is that okay?â You yawn.
He nodded and didnât move as you sat on the coffee table in front of him. Your body didnât touch his, but you still felt the heat it omitted before you pull back the gauze and check the wound, âno sign of infection thatâs good.â
âNaâvi are hard to killâ Neteyam says dryly. You look up and his rubbing your lips together to hold in a laugh.
âIâve noticed.â You smile. âAre you in a lot of pain?â You huff with a smile.
âNo, the gaping hole through my chest feels amazingâ he exaggerated, âI might go for a jog.â
You snort before you could hold it back turning your mouth to hit your right shoulder in and effort to stop yourself from filling laughing.
âIâm glad your sarcasm is still in tack.â You smile, âbut seriously do it hurt a lot?â
He paused for a minute, âit hurts yes, but I can breathe better than I could yesterdayâ he answers quietly.
âI have and antibiotic cream, itâll help a bit with the pain, and prevent infection. Iâll change your bandages too. But overall, you are healing faster than I expectedâ
I get up and walk over to the medical supply cabinet and take out a couple fresh bandages and the antibiotic cream.
I walk back over to him and clean up around the wound before I apply the cream and cover it with the new bandages.
âWhat can I say Iâm impressive even half-dead. Thought Iâd be more dramatic about it?â Neteyam tilted his head with a crooked grin.
You shake your head with a smile. âYou were dramatic, you bled on my couchâ
âThis is the first time I got shot, I had to make an entranceâ he shrugged softly as you finished changing his bandages. Heâs ears flicker slightly when he got a laugh out of you, it felt strange to him, was he proud? Heâd made many women laugh in the past it wasnât something he found difficult, but this situation was different. He wasnât sure how he was supposed to feel about it.
You brought over a glass of water for him which he took sipping slowly until he finished while you walked back to the kitchen to start making breakfast. Neteyam couldnât see you now, since the couch faced away from the kitchen but towards the tv and fireplace that had long burned out.
âWhy is it so dark in here?â He asked over his shoulder noting all the closed curtains, no natural light coming into the room.
âUh well thatâs cause the blinds are closed, itâs still pretty early.â You say as you begin to dig around for something Neteyam might eat, you settle on some meat you had frozen from the last time RDA went hunting and eggs with some fruit.
âIt feels like a caveâ he adjusted himself to sit more comfortably on the couch looking around the room like heâs been doing since you brought him there.
You shrugged, âyou want sun? Iâll open the blinds. Just donât hips at it.â
A soft grunt passed his lips, was it amusement? Annoyance? Hard to say. âIâm not a wild animal.â
You arch a brow, even though you knew he couldnât see you while you cracked the egg into the pan, âcouldâve fooled me, the way you growled at me last nightâ you blow raspberries into the air in exaggeration.
He didnât answer right away, then muttered, âstill deciding if youâre prey.â
You glance over your shoulder at the back of his head before turning back, âlet me know before breakfast, yeah? Iâd rather not waste eggs.â
He shifted until he had turned enough to see you in the kitchen leaning against the side of the couch instead, adjusting the blanket over his lap se the smell of sizzling food drifted from the small kitchen space.
âYou always cook with the lights off?â He called out, voice dry. âOr is this just part of the ambiance, âhalf dead guest special?â
You glance back at him with a smirk, âmaybe I like a little mystery while I make breakfastâ
He raised a brow, âMystery? Smells like youâre trying to resurrect me with a frying pan and vibes.â
You snorted, âwell, itâs workin, isnât it?â
He reclined a little deeper into the couch, eyes tracking you as you move around the kitchen, âbarely, is this is your version of hospitality, remind me not to get shot again.â
âUngratefulâ you muttered softly but you know he heard.
I put two plates down on the kitchen table with food on it, untie your apron and put it on the kitchen counter before walking over to the couch and standing next to him. âCome on, youâre not eating on my couch.â
He looked up at you clearly unimpressed. âWhat, you donât do room service out here in the middle of nowhere?â
You cross your arms, âyouâre lucky I donât drag you.
He huffed a short laugh but didnât move, âtempting. But if I get hurt again, thatâs on you.â
You help out your hand, firm but patient, âI stitched you up, fed you, and let you sass me from my own couch. Donât make me add dragging you to the table to the list.â
Neteyam groaned. More for show than pain, âI got shot in the chest not the legsâ he muttered stubbornly.
âYeah, and Iâd rather not watch you fall on your face trying to prove yourselfâ you shot back.
He sighed through his nose and hold onto you to help him stand up. He wrapped his heavy large arm over your shoulder and you wrap an arm around his slim waist. Being careful not to let him fall. His body was warm, solid, but tense under your touch.
As he stood, he hissed slightly but didnât complain. âDonât get any ideas. Iâm letting your help me because Iâm being polite.â
You smirked. âWow. So this is you being polite?â
His lip twitched but he didnât answer, just leaned a little more of his weight into you as you walked.
You both take it once step at a time until you made it to the kitchen table, you switched on the warm yellow light ver the table to illuminate the space after he sat down, then you sat down in the chair next to him at the touch table. He lets out a white breath as he settled in, then looked at the food and raise a brow.
In front him was grilled yerik meat, sliced fruit and some fried eggs, all fresh and local, but not cooked the way he was used to.
Neteyam stared at it, then gave you a look. âWhat did you do to the poor yerik? Burn it into submission?â
You arch your brow, âitâs grilled. Itâs called flavor.â
He picked up a piece with his fingers, inspecting it like it had wronged him, âflavor? My people season with wild herbs. This smells like smoke and⌠attitude.â
You smirked sarcastically. âYour welcome by the way. I did just slave over that stove for you.â
He bit into it an paused. Then, with a mouthful, mumbled, âcouldâve let me die with dignity and decent cooking.â
You roll your eyes with a smile, âyouâre lucky your cute-â
You stopped staring down at your food with the fork in your hand and wide eyes, realizing what you let slip out, but it was too late.
Neteyam raised a brow, grinning like he had just won something. âLucky Iâm what?â
You roll your eyes, ânothingâ you say casually.
âOh no, please,â he leaned forward, still chewing, âtell me again how lucky I am because Iâm cute.â
You mumbled, âI said no such thing.â
He smirked, pointing his fork that he clearly wasnât using at you, âto late. Iâm wounded and cute. Deadly combination.â
You cross your arms and leans back in your chair, âyouâre wounded, picky, and have the ego of a war chief. Cute isnât a word Iâd use.â
Neteyam grinned, unfazed. âAh, so, now Iâm a war chief. First cute, now powerful. Keep going, I, enjoying this.â
You raise an eyebrow. âDonât flatter yourself, forest prince. Iâve seen yerik with better manners.â
He let out a mock gasp, clutching his chest dramatically, careful to avoid the bandage. âYou wound me again. Truly your hospitality knows no bounds.â
He took a bite of the eggs, nodding in exaggerated approval, âcould use a little salt. But Iâll survive. Barely. Thanks to your tender, smocking-hotâŚgrill.â
You narrowed your eyes. âYou were about to say something else.â
He smirked, licking his fingers, âwas I? Youâre imagining things, must be that flustered energy coming off you.â
You grab a napkin and tossed it at his face, âeat your food before I decide youâre strong enough to cook your own damn breakfast tomorrowâ
He caught the napkin with ease chuckling. âSo violent for someone so nurturing, you sure youâre not falling for me?â
You lean forward slightly, âremember last night when you threatened to stab me? Why would I be falling for you? And even if I did, youâd be the last to knowâ
Neteyam tilted his head, eyes gleaming with challenges. âWeâll see about that.â
Once breakfast was finished and youâd both finished eating, you stood up taking the dishes to the sink to start cleaning up. Neteyam leaned back in his chair, watching you move around the kitchen with an unreadable expression.
âYou always take care of strangers like this?â He asked, voice a little quieter now, less teasing.
You gave him a glance over your shoulder, âonly ones who bleed on my grass, and my floors and my couchâ you sigh.
He snorted, shaking his head, then slowly he stood, clearly regaining his strength. It was amazing how quickly he was starting to recover from his near death experience. You wondered if all the naâvi are this vigilant or if he was just some kind of invincible warrior.
âWell, guess Iâm special huh?â
âLetâs not go so far,â you turn to watch him slowly walk up to you with a smirk, only looking away when he was holding onto the counter beside you.
He came over, still cautious with his movements, and put his weight on his stronger arm against the counter. His shoulder slight bumped yours. âAnd here I thought we were bonding over bad eggs and near-death experiencesâ
You turned off the water and whipped your hands on a hand towel, âfirst of all, my eggs are fucking good. And weâll see how you feel once you me helped clean up.â
He raised his brow bone. âYou want me to clean? With a bullet hole in my chest?â
âYouâve got one good arm,â you said sweetly, handing him the towel.
He took it with exaggerated effort and put it down on the counter next to him, âcruel woman, you mean the arm holding me up from falling right now?â
âSurvivors donât get lazyâ you replied before nudging him with your elbow.
The water poured over your head in a steady stream, steam curling around your shoulders as you pressed your hands to the cool tile wall. You had come in here to clear your head to wash off the lingering tension, the ache from sleep, and that buzz you couldnât quite explain.
But it wasnât working.
It was him.
Neteyam.
He hadnât done a thing that morning. Hadnât lifted a finger to help with breakfast, just stayed on the couch, arms crossed behind his head, half-lidded eyes watching the ceiling like he was bored out of his mind.
But youâd felt him watching you. Every time you turned your back. Every time you bent over or shifted. You could feel his gaze trailing along your spine like a hand that never touched. And when he did speak, his voice it wasnât fair.
Deep. Smooth. Rich like the forest after rain.
And the way he movedâŚ
You tilted your head back, letting the hot water roll down your chest. You didnât mean to think about him, didnât mean to notice, but the memory crept in anyway. The way his muscles flexed when he shifted on the couch, chest bandaged but firm and defined beneath it. The long lines of his legs, the stripes along his skin, the faint shimmer that came from the damp heat of the room the night before.
He looked powerful. And wild. And wounded.
And too damn beautiful to be real.
Your hand moved over your stomach absentmindedly, as if trying to soothe the way it fluttered. His face was still sharp in your mind those eyes, so full of suspicion, but never dull. They were intense. Too intense. Looking at you like you were a threat, like you were a puzzle, like maybe just maybe you were something else entirely.
intense. Too intense. Looking at you like you were a threat, like you were a puzzle, like maybe just maybe you were something else entirely.
You caught yourself.
Fingers tightened on the tile. âGet a grip,â you whispered, letting the water pelt down harder, trying to drown the thoughts before they spiraled any further.
You werenât supposed to feel anything about him. He was a wounded Naâvi. You were a human permanently stuck in your avatar. And this wasnât safe for either of you.
But stillâŚ
Your mind slipped again to the low rumble of his laugh, the accidental flash of a smile when heâd said something cocky the night before. The way his ears twitched when he heard a bird outside. The curve of his collarbone where the bandage didnât reach.
You exhaled sharply and turned the water to cold.
It didnât help itâs only been one day, was it even possible to be so infatuated with someone so quickly. You almost started to wonder what he thought about you, but quickly you turned off the shower and got out before you could. That wouldnât help you.
The days that followed passed in a strange quite rhythm, like a clam between storms. The atmosphere had started to shift. The first few days remained mostly on the couch downstairs, watchful, cautious, sharp-tongued. But he was healing much faster than you had predicted, the resilience of his naâvi physiology steadily outpacing your human expectations. The deep bruising had faded, the wound closing up quickly but not quite done yet, and by the forth day, he could walk without leaning in you to heavily.
It didnât stop him from making a show of his independence thought. He still tossed sass like it was a defense mechanism. When you tired to help him, heâd mutter sarcastic little jabs, never cruel, just enough to challenge you. âIâm fineâ heâd say with a dry smirk, wincing slightly as he tested his own limits. âI didnât get hit by a Tobruk, jus a little bullet.â You were leaning to match his tone, finding his attitude oddly endearing. His wit had a heat to it that made the air feel thicker whenever he looked at you too long.
He had taken to calling you âprincess,â the word always dripping with a kind of teasing bite the made your brow twitch and your stomach flutter all at once. âWhatever you say princess,â heâd say whenever you told him to stop overdoing it or remind him to drink water. He knew exactly how it landed, half mocking, half flirtation, and the glint in his eyes afterward said he enjoyed pushing your buttons. You pretended to be annoyed, but a part of you didnât mind. Not one bit.
By the fifth night he moved upstairs choosing the spare room beside yours. You offered it out of practicality, but when you heard him quietly testing the floorboards and settling into the room, your realized how aware you were of his presence, just on the other side of the wall, the door between your rooms stayed closed but it might as well have been paper. It was like he couldnât sleep, he was restless in the room. It was off putting considering when you both slept on the couch, he slept like a log. The entire night would go off without a hitch he slept peacefully. When youâd awake in the night hearing noises outside he didnât even flinch.
Every creek, every low sigh through the walls, every time he got up and strolled into your room to use the master bathroom quietly padding across the room, it made your skin prickle.
You didnât know why he used your bathroom. Even after he was strong enough to manage the one in the hallway. You told yourself it was cleaner and better stocked, but the first time you found a fresh towel slightly damp on the rack after heâd finished and the mirror and shower glass fogged up, you had to turn away to cool your thoughts.
That morning, youâd tried to think about besides him while your showered, but the ghost of his voice, low, rough and accented, it stayed with you. It was the way he said your name. The way his golden eyes held your gaze a beat too long sometimes. The way his body looked in the borrowed avatar clothing you had stored away in a box in an used spare room, how they hugged his lean farm just a little too perfectly, especially when damp from a shower or stuck to his back with sweat from walking the hill path behind the cabin to gain his strength.
You never meant to notice, but it happened anyways. The ripple of his stomach when he stretched, sometimes when it pecked out from under the t-shirt he wore. The way his hair was now loose from braids when he had washed it, how it looked falling down his shoulder since he didnât bother to braid them again yet. The strength in his arms when he lifted a bracket of fruit, the sound of him cleaning his throat or chuckling to himself in the other room, it was all in your head now. Looped on repeat.
You really tried not to think about him in those clothes, the meaning behind them almost set your skin on fire but you had nothing else to give me. It didnât hit you right away, only the night he sat on the couch some old tv show idly playing in front of your both. He noticed your shift in demeanor but he decided now wasnât the time to question it.
By day, he explored small distances, pushing his limits while pretending he wasnât. You caught him standing out by the cliff more than once, just staring at the horizon, lost in thought. It surprised you when you saw your fired ikran sitting next to him like he had no care in the world, it wasnât something he did often with people.
âHe must be thinking about his familyâ you thought to yourself.
Arms wrapped around yourself you walked out and sat on the other side of him, âare you alright?â
He seemed to have not even noticed your steps towards him until you say down and he gave you a glance, âyea, just thinking about my family.â
You didnât say anything, you werenât sure what to say. So you stayed quiet. You watched pat your ikran on the head slightly, âhe likes youâ you say softly. âHis name is Leo.â
âHe is beautiful, his patterns is very unique almost like flowersâ
âI know heâs my babe heâs gorgeousâ I smile. âWhat about yours?â
âHer name is Seze, after my mothers first sprit sister, I heard the stories and they just match, the name, the colors. She is strong.â
âLike her sprit brother?â
He turned his head to look at you and you looked back at him, âyou are very strong tooâ I look down at his chest before my eyes dart back up to his.
âNot like her.â
âMaybe not, but it is a fact Neteyamâ you say confidently.
Sometimes heâd sit in the sunlight filtering through the window, sharpening the blade of the same knife you found on his hip on the first day you met him, using a rock he decided to casually bring inside and left it on the floor in one specific spot for this reason only. It was not a multipurpose rock and you were not allowed to touch it. You tired throwing it back outside but he just brought it back in.
So you let him, it gave him peace. But occasionally, heâd catch you looking and a faint smirk would lift the corner of his lips, âdidnât think the sky people taught staring as a skillâ he once said. You snapped back with, âonly when the viewâs worth itâ before realizing how flirtatious it sounded. He didnât comment just raised his brow bone and looked amused.
By night the two of you developed a routine, youâd make simple meals from what you could forgave from the garden outside, any kind of fresh fruit or vegetable along with whatever your already had in the kitchen or fridge, local meat, roots, tart fruits that stained your fingers purple, and heâd tease your cooking even as he cleared his plated. One night, you asked if he wanted to help and he responded, âyouâve got the knife skills and Iâve got the survival instinct. Letâs not blur the line just yet.â You laughed. So did he. A real one, short and genuine.
Still the boundary was clear. He didnât trust easily, and you didnât push him. But there was an undercurrent, a quiet shift in energy each time you passed each other in the hallways or stood too close in the kitchen. You felt it in the subtle way he watched your when he thought you didnât notice, or in the way his voice softened ever so slightly when you two talked late into the night. You didnât touch him, not really. Not unless you were redressing his wounds or moments when your hand brushed, when you helped him steady himself, his fingers lingered in your arm just a second longer that necessary.
You didnât want to say what any of that meant since you didnât know yourself, not yet. But it was something. Something you were starting to feel under your skin like a pulse.
Itâs been almost two weeks now, Neteyam has healed amazingly quick, his skin had returned back to its normal color where he had bruising, anywhere he had gonna scraps had healed up and mostly disappeared.
This afternoon, the sun had just dipped low enough to turn the ocean gold, you were both sitting on the porch. You in a big weaved cushioned chair and him leaning on the raining like he belonged there.
âYou said something the first nightâ he said, breaking the quiet, his voice was thoughtful, not playful, or teasing. Just real.
You turned towards him, âoh? I say a lot of things.â
He glanced at you, one side of his mouth twitching, âyou said you didnât plan to here here aloneâ
You stilled. The words youâd almost forgotten came back in full. You hadnât meant to get into detail, you didnât even thing he remembered anything from that night. He was in his worst condition, it surprised you.
âI didnât,â you admitted after a pause. âNot originally.â
âBut you do,â he said simply.
You rub your lips together and gave a slow nod, eyes drifting back towards the horizon, âyeah. I do.â
It was quiet for a few seconds before he said, softly, âWhy?â
The ocean beyond the cliffs was calm, bathed in soft shades of blue and silver under the planet above. You wrapped your hands around your mug, the warmth grounding you as you look back at him and decided to tell him the truth. You donât know why you felt like you could trust him, you werenât even sure he trusted you yet.
âI didnât build this place to be alone,â you said slowly, your voice barely audible.
Your head tilted down to look at your mug. Neteyam glanced at you, his expression was unreadable, but you didnât look back yet. Your eyes stayed down, locked on the steam coming from the mug, like it held the courage you needed.
âI came here with someone,â you continued. âMy boyfriend. We were both with the RDA both from the navy on earth, so we both got avatars. We were in different squads. He was on land and I was stationed in the ocean.â You sniffle softly from the cold. âWe talked about a future here, once the politics and field work was over. The cabin was going to be home. Our home, forever.â
Your swallow, your throat tight. The words hurt, not because they were hard to say but because they still felt so real, like theyâd only just slipped through your fingers.
âBefore they transfer your consciousness into your avatar permanently, you go through a series of test using the link machine.â You explain. âHe died a year ago, one minute he was next to me, the next he was gone. Something with his link upload they said it didnâtâŚwork the way it was supposed to, I still donât know why. . No warning, no goodbye, I saw his avatar laying on the cot like a shell the next morning and that was it.â
Neteyamâs face tensed, and this time you did glance at him, his eyes met yours, wide with the kind of pain only someone whoâs lost can recognize.
âI stayed,â you went on, a crack sneaking into your voice. âEveryone thought I was crazy for not going back to earth. But I couldnât, we built this place. Every beam, every stone, I wasnât ready to let go of it, or him and he uhâŚheâs buried in pandora, Iâm not gonna just, leave him here.â
Silencer bloomed between you again, thick and pulsing. You didnât try to fill it, you let it breathe.
After a long moment, Neteyam spoke quietly, sincerely.
âThat mustâve shattered you.â
You exhaled shakily, âit did.â
He looked away for a second struggling with something in himself. Then, voice low, âI know what it feels like. That kind of loss. Like a piece of you is just⌠missing.â
You nodded, and for the first time since the conversation started you smiled softly.
âSome days it still feels like I. Waiting for him to walk through that door. But lately⌠I donât know. Itâs not as loud.
Neteyam looked back at you. âAnd now your sharing it with a stranger you dragged up a cliff.â
A breath of laughter escaped your chest, a wet sound edged with emotion. âYour not a stranger anymore. Iâve known you two whole weeks now.â You joke.
He didnât answer right away, but the look in his eyes softened just enough. The walls between you didnât fall, but one of them cracked.
You hesitated before speaking again, your voice softer now, almost like you were afraid of saying too much, but unable to stop.
âWe were gonna have kids.â You gave a small breathy laugh that didnât quite reach your eyes. âThatâs why there are so many rooms in this house. He thought three was a good number. But I wasnât sure, we were excited. Carved out everything room by room.â
Neteyam came to sit next to you in the chair.
âI remember ⌠we even argued about which room would be the nursery,â you said with a wistful smile. âHe wanted the one that got the morning sun, but I said itâll be to warm. I wanted it to be the one closest to the master bedroom, the one youâre seeking in.â You look over at him.
âReally?â
You nodded, âyeah. That was the one he lost the argument over. Said the morning sun would make it feel alive, but I didnât care, I wanted the baby closeâ
Neteyam looked up at the sky, picturing the room heâs sleeping in then shot you a crooked smile, âwell, I donât cry that often, and I sleep through the night, so Iâd say Iâm a pretty low-maintenance baby.â
You blink, looking at him, before you let out a laugh, a short and real, surprised by the way his joke cracked through the heaviness like sunlight cutting through the clouds. âWowâ you paused, âyou are not low maintenanceâ
He turned towards you, feigning offense, âexcuse me?â
You lean back in the seat with a knowing look. âYou drink all my tea and still complain about it, you steal my shower, my shampoo and conditioner. You sulk like itâs an art form. And donât get me started on how much space you take up on that couch.â
He blinked, the leaned closer a little, his tone playful. âI get shot once and suddenly Iâm high maintenance?â
You have him a mock serious look, âshot once, hijacked my nursery, and now you think youâre a resident.â
His smirk grew into a grin, âI didnât realize sarcasm was your love languageâ
âGood thing itâs fluent in yours too,â you shot back.
The air between you shifted again, still teasing, still playful, but there was something in the pause afterwards. Like neither of you really wanted the conversation to end.
Neteyamâs grin lingered, but something about it sharpened at the edges, turned a little slower, a little more deliberate. His eyes didnât leave yours.
âIs that what his is then?â He asked, voice dropping just a touch, less teasing now, more curious. âYou giving me a hard time because your like me?â
You let out a short laugh, shaking your head, âdonât flatter yourself.â
His gaze dropped briefly to your mouth before netting your eyes again, bolder this time, âyou donât deny it either.â
Neteyamâs smirk curled slow, like he knew something you donât when you didnât answer, maybe he was daring you to say it out loud, âyou say Iâm not low maintenanceâ his voice rich with amusement, âbut you havenât kicked me out yet.â
You raise an eyebrow, lip twitching, âthatâs because youâre injured and Iâm a good person.â
He leaned in more just slightly, his tone low and teasing. âNah, I think you like having me around.â
You shot him a sideways glance. âDonât let that compliments go to your head.â
âThey already have,â he said with a lazy grin, eyes flickering again down to your lips then back up, he added, ânot my fault you keep giving me reasons.â
Your pulse shattered. There it was again, that magnetic tension he slipped into so effortlessly when the sad turned flirt. You crossed your arms, trying to maintain the upper hand.
âYou are a menaceâ you said, but your voice lacked heat.
He tilted his head, eyes gleaming. âMaybe, but Iâm your menace now, right?â
Your mouth opened but nothing came out. You hated how much that line hit, how it made heat crawl up the back of your neck. He chuckled softly at your silence, clearly pleased with himself.
âSee? You like me.â
âRemind me to lace your tea with sleeping herbs next time.â
âStill means I get tea.â He winked.
Your breath caught, and your werenât sure if it was from frustration or something else entirely, something warmer, heavier and far more dangerous.
âYou know,â you said, voice careful, âfor someone who acts so suspicious of me, your sure donât mind pushing your luck.â
He didnât look away, âyouâve been staring at me since the night I was passed out on that couch. Donât pretend Iâm the only one.â
You snorted softly, trying to laugh it off, âyouâre half-naked most of the time even though Iâve given you clothes, Iâm not blind.â
âNoâ he said voice lower now, more certain. âBut your are pretending not to want what you want.â
That hit like a spark on dry grass. Immediate. Dangerous. You could feel the flush creeping up on your neck before you could stop it. You lean back slightly forcing some air into your lung.
âWhat exactly are you suggesting?â
He tilted his head, the corner of his mouth tugging into something that wasnât quite a smirk but wasnât far off. âIâm not suggesting anything. Just saying you look at me like youâve got questions only your hands can answer.â
Your stomach did flips. He was too close to that truth but he wants to be bold, you can be bold too.
âAnd what if I do?â You asked, voice soft but defiant, âyou gonna let me ask them?â
Neteyam through his weight in his elbow that sat between you both in the backrest of the chair getting closer to you, âonly if youâre ready for the answers.â
Your mug hit the side table and your turn your body to face him, you felt warm, your heart was beating too hard. You didnât say anything right away. Neteyam was still, watching you like you were prey. Only this time you werenât prey. Not tonight.
âYou talk a lot for someone who doesnât trust me,â you said your voice low as your eyes dragged over him, over the lines of his shoulders, the bandage on his chest, the slight smirk that hadnât left his face, âand you never stop looking either.â
He leaned back slightly, eyes locked on yours. âI never said I didnât like what I saw.â
You didnât even hesitate, you leaned in lifting your hand until your fingers curled into the base of his hair at the nape of his neck. His breath hitched almost imperceptibly.
âNice try, forest boyâ you whispered, voice velvet and laced with amusement. âYou couldnât handle all this.â
Your lips were close enough that the brushed the curve of his jaw as you pulled away, just barely, just enough to see the slow, dangerous smirk that unfurled on his face.
His eyes locked onto yours, dark and hungry but playful, sharp like he was weighing your challenge. âIs that a date?â He murmured, his voice was thick with heat and barely restrained ego.
You gave him a slow taunting once over. âItâs a fact.â
He laughed, low, deep and cocky as hell. âBold words from someone who keeps looking at me like Iâm dessert.â
You raise an eyebrow, smile curling. âPlease. If I wanted you, youâd know it.â
His smirk deepened, and his voice dropped lower as he replied, âgood thing I donât wait for invitationsâ
The air between the thickened, neither of them spoke. The space that separated them seemed to disappear with every breath, their gaze locked in a quiet challenge. Not having any move restraint, Neteyam closed the gap, his lips meeting yours in a kiss that was everything they both had been trying to ignore.
It was slow at first, tentative, as if testing the waters. His hand that once rested between you on the backrest now gripping the back of your hair. Your own hands falling down his neck to his chest being careful not to touch the bandages. You kissed him back, your pulse quickening. Feeling that weight if the moment.
The kiss deepened and the world outside the cabin disappeared. It was just them, locked in this electrifying connection, both of them eager to see just how far this could go.
But then he stopped. He pulled back, his breath shallow as he looked at you. His golden eyes searched your face, not for permission, he already had that, but for something steadier, safer, maybe something that said this is okay.
You exhaled, almost laughing under your breath at how fast your pulse had jumped. âWell,â you said, your voice low but teasing, âthat was either a thank you or youâre really bad at asking for a second helping.â
Neteyam cracked a small grin, still a little dazed but hiding it under bravado. âDonât flatter yourself,â he said, tilting his head. âI just wanted to prove you talk too much.â
You raised a brow, smirking. âAnd that was your plan?â
âIt worked, didnât it?â he shot back, voice warm, full of something light but laced with tension, even now, part of him wanted to lean in again.
The air between you was warm, charged again but no longer heavy. This time, you leaned in first just a little and said, âMaybe next time you should prove it without using your mouth.â
He huffed a quiet laugh, shaking his head, eyes flicking down to your lips and back up. âNoted,â he murmured.
But neither of you moved to break the closeness, letting the night wrap around them, full of things unspoken, and things not entirely undone.
The air was cooler tonight, a light breeze had you shivering, something he took notice too. âLetâs go insideâ he said softly standing and holding out a hand for you. You take it and let him lean you into the cabin locking the door behind you.
You walk into the kitchen first and he follows you, the warm light spilling from the ceiling fixtures brushing over your skin, grounding you again in the quiet house. You didnât hear him behind you, you only turned and saw him there his larger frame leaning against the counter. He steels in slowly, deliberately, his eyes in you.
He didnât say a word a first just came closer and closer. His arm wrapped around you brushing against your lower back, it was gentle but firm enough to draw you closer. The air between you sparked again and you didnât back away from him, neither did he.
You leans up and kiss him this time, deeper, more controlled you both knew you wanted this now, there were no nerves, no hesitation.. His hands cradled your waist fingers splaying under your shirt against your skin. The way your body molded against him as if you had belonged there and neither of your realized until now.
Your hands move from his arms to his chest accidentally pressing around the bandage that covered his wound. He flinched, barely but it was enough for you to pull away instantly.
âSorry,â you say quickly, trying to catch you breath but your brows were furrowed in concern, you didnât want to hurt him. Your thumb brushed over the bandage softly the where you pressed against him. âI didnât meant to-â
âItâs okay,â he said hoarsely, eyes closed for a second. âJust⌠not all the way healed yet.â
âNo I know Iâm sorryâ your hands run up his neck holding him there. Itâs clear the touch hurt him more than heâd like to admit, it wasnât weakness you saw from him so you never understood why he hid his pain like that. âNeteyamâŚâ you whisper his name softly.
âTsal lu tamâ one of his hands found yours and he held it as if to reassure you. Youâre not sure if he realized but it was the first time Neteyam had spoken his mother tongue since heâs been in here. It sounded so different, so natural to him. You had no idea what he said but he caught your attention.
You look up at him as he catches his breath dulling the pain he had just felt. The heat between you had also dulled, tempered by the reminder of his injury.
âYouâre healing fastâ you say softly to him âbut not that fast.â
You both still stood close, too close. He let out a low breath, nose nearly brushing yours, âit is okâ he translated without you even having to ask.
âThisâŚdoesnât mean I donât want to,â he said, his voice rough, tinged with frustration.
âI know, me too.â You whispered, eyes flickering over his face.
You stood for a while bodied warm, breath shared, but you both knew they crossed that next line now, with him not being fully healed, and you being apart of a completely different world. So much could go wrong now. His hand lingered a second longer before he let go.
The next few days blurred into a rhythm that felt dangerously close to domesticity, dangerous, because it felt too good with him.
Neteyamâs wound was nearly closed up now, it was almost supernatural the way he bounded back, just soreness in his chest mostly since it was almost time for you to remove the stitches that made him stiff at times.
It didnât stop him from brushing up against him, whether it was walking past you and letting his hand graze your waist. Or standing behind you in the kitchen pressing you up against the counter as you made breakfast in the morning, his lips kissing your neck softly as reached for a fruit placing it in front of you to keep you busy so you wonât move. Or pulling you into those long, slow, steamy kisses that always left you weak in the knees, half forgotten that this wasnât supposed to happen.
There were times your find yourself wrapped up in his strong arms as he held you against him, the press of his mouth hungry but unhurried on anywhere he could reach like he was memorizing you. Other times it was just a look from across the dinning table, a brief brush of fingers together when he held your hand in his, left you breathless.
Still, you both didnât sleep in the same room at night even though sometimes youâd lay in bed hoping he came to lay with you but you knew that would take you across another line you both shouldnât be near. It made your heart ache with want and wariness.
What really stuck with you was the day he first kissed you, the day you hurt him accidentally and he slipped his mother tongue. His voice in naâvi stirred something deep. It was so intimate to you, like he let his guard down and he hadnât realized. He didnât notice you heard.
But you did and it stuck.
It followed you for the next week or so, no matter how weak Neteyam made you feel on the inside and outside, no matter what you two laughed about, no matter how sweet or what nicknames he called you out of amusement, or attraction. The nagging thought in the back of your mind didnât leave.
What happens when he leaves?
The question would not be what if, but when. You saved him life, you know who he is, you know he is someoneâs son, someoneâs brother. And they still think he is dead, and they miss him. He knows he missed them back and you couldnât put yourself in a position to keep him from his family. Itâs just not something youâd do.
He was healing quickly, another week from now he may very well be fully healed. It took you a month to fall for him, it was so easy. What happens when you have to spend the rest of your years alone? Cause in case you forgot the RDA thinks youâre dead too. You are free from them, but you are not accepted anywhere except with then.
It was late in the day when you finally decided to ask him about it. The sun was setting and Neteyam was sitting in the porch swing, shirtless, bandage long gone, his chest more marked only by a scar that caught the light like a whisper of what happened. You know it wouldnât go away.
You step out with a mug of tea for him, heart pounding in your chest for reason that had nothing to do with the drink in your hand. He looked up when you approached with a smile tugging his lips and warm eyes and you sat next to him handing him the mug. Your shoulders barely touched unlike how youâve been for the past week and a half. Never without touching.
You both say silently for a few beats watching the wind roll through the trees.
Then, softly you asked him, âdo you miss them? Your family, your friendsâ
Neteyam didnât look at you right away. He took a slow sip of his tea and let out a long breath. âEvery day.â
You nod, the words felt heavy even though you knew the answer. Your fingers play with the sleeves of your sweater. âItâs been almost four weeks now.â
Your eyes meet the horizon, âyouâre almost fully healed. Strong. And I know youâve been thinking about it.â You turn to him, eyes searching his face. âWhat are you going to do?â
He was quiet for a long time.
You look away staring back at the swaying trees, âwhen will you go back?â
Finally, Neteyam turned to face you, eyes narrowing slightly, more serious now, âsoonâ he admitted with no sign of joy in the word. âI have to. Theyâre probably out of their minds.â
You nod, heart sinking but you press on, âand what happens then?â
âWhat do you mean?â He tilited his head.
âI meanâŚâ you swallow. âWhat happens to us? To me?â
His silence stretched again.
âIâm not like you Neteyamâ you say, âthere is no going back for me. This-â you gesture vaguely towards the house and the land around you, â-this is my life now, I made my lease with it, staying here forever, I though Iâd be doing that alone.â You pause. âAnd donât misunderstand me, I have no regret saving you. But youâve made being here aloneâŚharder.â
He blinked slowly, haze softening but he said nothing.
âI want- no I need to know what I am to you. If Iâm just aâŚ. chapter, a strong youâll take home when you leave. Or am I something else?â
Neteyam shifts, setting his tea down. His golden eyes locked on your, and his usually sarcastic sass and humor was gone, replaced by something raw.
He looked at you for a long moment. His face didnât change by something in his eyes flickered, conflict? Guilt? The weight of something he didnât know how to say.
He reached for your hand, thumb brushing over your knuckles with surprising gentleness, and when he finally spoke, his voice was steady. Painfully steady.
âI never thought Iâd be here this long.â He admitted, âat first, I was just trying to survive. But then you, kept helping me and talking to me and letting me stay here. You were so unbelievably to get comfortable with and thatâs saying a lot coming from me. We clicked. You made it hard not to care.â
Your chest ached but you didnât interrupt.
âI didnât expect you. You were complicated and I never say you coming. Maybe I didnât want to.â He glanced up.
You tired to breath, but you felt like your ribs couldnât move.
âI think about you, tooâ he said, voice softer now. âI watch you when youâre not looking and I remember every word you every whispered in my ear, the way you touch me when you didnât mean to. Or when you did cause IâŚâ he couldnât find the right word, maybe he just didnât want to say it.
A half smile tugged at his lips. Bittersweet.
âBut thisâŚus⌠itâs not that simple.â He whispered
Silence.
âYou have made this cabin so domestic and amazing and Iâm so grateful to have spent this time with you. You have your roots here. I donât, and I know you know that.â
Your lips parted, but no words came. You didnât want to say it aloud.
He leaned in, pressing his forehead to yours, his breath was warm between you both. But you couldnât breathe.
âIf I were someone else,â he mumbled, âmaybe this could be something simple, easy. But Iâm not. I have people waiting for me. I am the first son of Toruk Makto. A war that u walked away from but never stopped being apart of.â
You closed your eyes before you could feel yourself tear up.
âI have to fill a spot that literally no one else can fill. I am a highly skilled, trained warrior. I take down bases single handedly sweetheart. I canât put this burden on someone else, on my brother. I have a responsibility to my people. To my clan.â
âI donât want to hurt you,â he whispered.
But he already was.
And you both knew it.
Now youâre quite the air between you changed. You shifted slightly back leaning back against the backrest your knee now touching his.
âYou always look at me like thatâ he turned his head, eyes dark, held something you couldnât figure out.
âLike what?â
âLike Iâm staying.â
Your heart skipped, you donât answer, you canât.
He leans in just enough for you to feel his warmth again and he pulled you closer. âCome here, look at meâ he pulls you in effortlessly.
âYou know I want to,â he murmurs. âYou feel it tooâŚdonât you?â
And before you can say anything he kisses you. Your legs were thrown over his as he held you close. The kiss was slow, soft, deep. Not rushed this time just full of everything neither of you had said out loud.
His hand comes to rest on your thigh, warm and steady. You lean into him, one hand curling against his chest where his heart thuds strong beneath her palm. The kiss lingers, pulls her under
The swing creaked beneath you both as he picks you up into his lap, not bringing the kiss. You shift in his lap without thinking swinging one leg over to straddle him properly. His hands gripped your waist under your sweater, you could feel the strength in his arms, solid, grounding you.
âYou drive me insane,â he mumbled against your lips, voice rough, breath hot. âYou shouldnât⌠but you do.â
You kiss hind again in answer, hands threading through this hair, tugging gently until he growled low in his throat, his breath fanning across your pulse point.
You barely notice the night air anymore. Your fingers trailed down his chest, feeling the rise and fall of the muscle and warmth, the way he arched into your touch like he couldnât help it.
âI donât want to stop.â You whisper, heart pounding.
His hands stilled in her hips, holding her tight, âthen donât.â
You searched his eyes, those amber eyes darkened with desire, with something deeper and say the truth here. Neither of you wanted to stop. Not tonight.
Neteyam held your gaze for only a heartbeat before he wrapped around you picking you up, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist. He effortlessly carried you up the stairs to the bedroom. His stride was steady, but urgent like he waited long enough.
Your arms tightened around his shoulders as he climbed, the heat between you growing with every step. You kiss the side of his neck, and he let out a low, strained sound before he finally dropped you onto the bed making your squeal.
âYou sure?â He asked, voice a low rasp, his hands flexing as he grabbing your ankles holding your legs up and apart. And you nod without hesitation.
âI want you.â You voice as you pull him down over you for another kiss. Neteyam kissed down your neck hungrily, leaving marks in his wake. His hands had been slowly pushing your sweat up he pushed over your head quickly and tossed it somewhere on the floor.
He raised his head for a beat staring down at how pretty you looked, blush covering your face, hair messy, topless in front of him. Neteyam didnât waste anytime hooking his fingers in your shorts and patties tugging them down with haste in one swift movement leaving you completely exposed under him.
âYour so pretty, so fucking pretty like this for meâ he mumbles as he kisses down your body holding both your touch tits in his hands he licked and sucked at the skin before he flicked his tongue against your right nipple. Your back arched off the bed with a sweet moan which made his tail whip excitedly behind him.
âFuck..â you whisper, rolling your eyes back and biting your lip at the feeling of his tongue playing with your nipples. Neteyam sucked until he bruised them before he moved down your stomach to your core.
He held your thighs in his hand spreading them open as he looked at the slick leaking out of your weeping hole. He groaned in satisfaction even though he hasnât even touched you yet, âbaby is this for all for me?â
He knew the answer, he knows itâs his. He wants you to say it. âYes yesâŚyours Neteâ you sing feverishly, anything for him to get down there and make you feel good.
âYea thatâs mine sevinâ he called you a name in his mother tongue and you almost rolled your eyes even though you didnât know what it meant.
âW-what does that mean?â You asked breathlessly.
âIt means pretty, you are so pretty! Fucking gorgeous.â He said before he takes his pants off bare and hard underneath.
Your eyes widen slightly as he stroked himself looking down at your body, just admiring all he already did to it. Thinking about all heâs about to do.
He laid down on the bed next to you and pulled you up and over him. Neteyamâs hand gripped your hair softly pushing you down towards his length, âgonna be a good girl and suck my cock?â
You nod again feverishly, no way youâd say no to his tone, or those words that made you want to ride him until you pass out. You bring your head down willingly licking a stride up his length to the top and swirling your tongue around it.
Neteyam moans which is quickly becoming your favorite sound, your tail whips in the air. He grabs it quickly wrapping it around his around using it to lift your lower body until his face was between your tights. His hands ran the outside of your thighs up to your ass and back down a few times as he rolled his eyes back and mown at your trying to deep throat his cock that clearly didnât fit in your mouth.
Your tongue twirled around his length anyway you could make it go as he gave your ass a nice slap making you moan against him, vibrations sent shivers down to your cunt. Your life your head for some needs sir gasping loudly as you come up. You stroke his cock while looking between your legs are the absolutely glorious expression on his face,
It was amazing watching him fall apart for your tongue, you could imagine what heâd feel like once he finally got to stretch you out with his cock, and you couldnât wait.
Finally, Neteyam pulled your lower half down by your ass and licked a stride up your cunt from your clit to your hole, you gagged, and you moaned on his cock not expecting him to do that. He let out an amusement chuckle at that, âoh great mother..â he mumbled, âI love it when you gag on my cock like thatâ he moaned as you curled your tongue on him. âYou like gagging on my cock sevin?â You pull your head off him once more letting out a desperate yes into the air before you go back down.
Your face was messy with spit and precum, but you didnât care, you wanted him to come in your, outnumbered if you could make him, Neteyamâs tongue worked wonders on your clit you almost stop being about to focus moving your head up and down.
He marked up your thighs turning them purple before he sucked on your clit, his tongue flicked up and down, side to side, in circles until he had your arching your back and crying, he had you so lose to coming when he slapped your ass again, something else youâre growing to like.
Your tail whipped harshly in the air, hitting the headboard, sometimes the the bed next to your legs before it wrapped around Neteyamâs left arm. He knew you were close from how much more you were moaning for him to make you cum.
He greedily didnât waste a drop of your essence when his tongue fucked it out of you before giving you another slap on the ass and pushing you off him. He quickly switched positions getting back on top of you, âI didnât know you were so good at that baby, I wouldâve asked you to suck a cock so long ago.â
Heâs hand came up squishing your cheeks together, it wasnât to hurt you he just loved the fucked our express you sported, he wanted to touch it.
âWould you have sweet? Sucked my cock if I asked you before?â He asked your sitting up on his knees as he spread you open lining himself up. You nod vigorously at him, âmhmmm.â You replied.
He could cum in the stop from how submissive you were, he was honestly surprised you didnât fight him down more to be in top, not that he was complaining. Seeing his girl under him like this couldnât have been a sexier view.
âReady for me to fuck you baby?â
You nodded messily brushing the hair away from your face.
âNo no no I wanna hear you this time, want me to make you cum in my cock sweetheart?â He chuckled.
âYes, yes pleasesss tey.â You moaned as he slapped his cock head on your clit a couple times before he slowly pushed it in. His head rocked back, and he rolled his eyes when he felt how amazingly tight you were.
âHoly fuckâŚyour so fucking tight.â His body falls over yours his hands on both sides of your head as he looks down at your expression. Blush tenfold, mouth wide open as if you were silently screaming as he stretched you open.
You body was adjusting to him quickly, but it felt like he had cock for days. When you thought you couldnât fit anymore, he made his entire length fit with a sweet scream from you.
âOh, my godddâ you roll your eyes, nails digging into his shoulder trying to keep your grip on something. You moans turned to pants as he started to slowly push in and out of you. His hair fell over, acting like a curtain that blocked you from the outside world.
His eyes were bright with desire as he stared down at you. âYou feel so good!â You moan between thrust. Which made him smile widely canines in full display. He stuffed his face in your neck and grazed them against your already bruised up skin.
âFuckkkkk me harder! Please teyâ you moan as you rack your hands in his hair pushing it back so you could see his face. You smile you as him biting your lip, but it didnât stop your little moans that he fucked out of you.
Neteyam chuckled as how needy you were for more, his arms went down to your thighs to hold them, pulling your body into his thrust. His grip was strong youâre sure youâd have bruises literally when he was down. Your tail lashed until it wrapped around his strong thigh trying to ground yourself.
ââm gonna cum! Gonna cum teyâ you mewl into the air along with your sweet moans. Your nails raked scratch marks on his back and arms, heâs fucking you so good. Neteyam fucked you like it was his one and only job in the whole world.
You didnât get a chance to say anything else before your roll your eyes back and scream, arching your back you came squirting in his thighs and abdomen. Your eyes squeezed shut as you moan from the stimulation.
He slowed down to admire your work, but you quickly stopped him, âdonât stop, donât stop! Keep going! Cum!â You demanded he came for you now.
Your mind was delirious your only thoughts were his big hands on your body, the feeling on his cock bullying its way into your stomach felt incredible. And now that you were being overstimulated. You wanted nothing more than for him to empty his load in you and put you to bed.
And thatâs exactly what he planned on doing. Neteyam smiled wickedly as he pulled out and flipped you over on all fours. âReady to make me cum sweet?â He pulled you up and down positioning you properly and spoke in your ear as he leaned over your body.
You nod feverishly wanting nothing more than that, âyeah? Gonna be a good girl and make me cum?â
âYes, yes yes yesssssâ you moan into the air loudly as he reentered you and started to pound away. First his hands slapped your ass again, grabbing your hips and pulling you in. Neteyam felt like he was a different kind of depth from this angle, he was snug in your cunt. So much so that he was fucking you, but you couldnât make a sound. Every thrust knocked the air out of you.
That was until he started to fuck faster. Your upped body dropped to the bed head turned to the side so you could see him from the corner of your eye but it didnât last long, he laced his fingers in your hair pulling you back up so you had no choice but to help hold yourself back up. You couldnât do anything but scream, it was literally screaming or nothing, you couldnât find it in yourself to quiet down at all. His fucking just didnât allow that.
âLook at me sweetheart, being such a good fucking girl for meâ he teased and taunted. It actually made you feel pretty, you wanted to be like this for him, you didnât want him to have anyone but you like this either.
You wanted to nod but his grip on your hair stopped you. You didnât expect him to pull you back more, his thrust were monstrous but his grip was gentle bending you back in ways you didnât know you could bend, your head was looking up and him and he leaned down giving you a slowly kiss.
You wanted to cum again but your just couldnât voice it this time, your voice was not gone, you just could reach it from the angle you were in so without warning again your squirt messing him up some more. Your jaw was slack as he let go of your hair and grabbed your arms by your elbow pulling your body back to him.
You couldnât think straight you started to push back even more wanting him to fuck you harder, but you couldnât find the words, and harder he fucked until he emptied his entire soul into your cunt. The groan he let out was animalistic, if you were so fucked out on him you might have gotten scared.
Nevertheless Neteyam eased his cock out of you watching his cum ooze out of your now gaping hole. He rolled his eyes in satisfaction as he dropped down next to you, immediately pulling you into his embrace. He snuggles his face into your neck as he felt your pant to catch your breath.
âAre you okay? I didnât hurt you did I?â He whispered into your skin.
âMhmm, Iâm okay, you didnât hurt meâ you nod softly, whispering that words, âIâm greatâ you turn your body to face his molding into his touch as he held you impossibly close, with a smile.
âI guess we established I can more than keep up.â He chuckled softly making you giggle. He picked you up taking you to the bathroom to clean up standing under the shower with you, wrapped around your frame. He didnât take his hands off you for a second, he didnât want to be away from you. And neither did you.
Neteyam took your to bed and got in with your wrapping his arms around you pulling the blanket over both of you. It was a bit earlier than you normally went to sleep but you were complaining. You just wanted to be here, with him.
You press a kiss on his chest where his heart was before whispering, âthis wasnât justâŚnothing. Right?â
His hand paused on her back, he took a breath, then another. âNoâ he said, voice soft, thoughtful. âIt wasnât nothing.â He kissed to top of your head.
But it wasnât a promise either.
He tilted your chin up gently. His golden eyes meeting yours. They were searching your face like they were trying to understand something even he couldnât name, âyouâre different,â he murmured. âFrom anyone Iâve ever known.â
You smiled, a little sad, âthatâs not always a good thing.â
âIt is to me.â
After that you didnât say anything snuggling against him as sleep found both of you.
The days that followed blurred together in a quiet, desperate sort of bliss.
Neteyam was healed now, at least, enough to walk without wincing, to stretch without pulling at the scar that had once marked his chest. His strength had returned, slow but steady, and with it came the quiet understanding that time was running out. That he would leave soon.
But neither of you said it.
Instead, you both clung to the days you had left.
He moved through your space like he belonged there now. Not as a guest, not as the stranger youâd patched up on your couch, but as someone who knew exactly where the mugs were kept, who always reached for the same towel in the morning, who leaned against the counter behind her while you cooked and stole bites with a lazy smirk before you could even plate the food.
And you let him.
You let him wrap his arms around your waist from behind while you stood at the sink, let him kiss the spot beneath your ear that made your breath catch. You let him wrap you both in a blanket when the nights got cold. He would tease you, calling you tiny from how well you fit in that space.
You laughed too much, touched too much, kissed like you didnât want to stop. And sometimes, you didnât.
You danced in the kitchen one night to music playing low from an old speaker, his hand warm and firm against the small of your back, your cheek resting on his shoulder as if it had always been meant to fit there.
It started as a joke, you were washing dishes, swaying with the song singing it softly from the speaker on the windowsill. It was an old song. Something smooth and low, something just enough to make your hips sway with rhythm. Neteyam had been leaning against the counter, chewing the last bite of fruit, watching your with that quiet little smirk that had become all too familiar.
âYouâre dancing,â he noted.
You turn and look at him over your shoulder, âand youâre not.â
He steals forward, exaggerated and smug, âyouâre saying you want me to?â
âIâm saying you couldnât keep up,â you teased, flicking water in his direction.
His eyes gleamed with challenge.
Before you could retreat, he was there, grabbing the towel from your hands, tossing it aside, and pulling you in by the waist. Your laugh bubbled out of you before you could stop it, light and surprised, your fingers gripping his arms for balance as he spun you into the open space of the kitchen.
You hadnât expected him to actually be good at it.
But he was, surprisingly graceful, moving with a rhythm that came as naturally as breathing. His steps were confident, fluid, his hands strong and sure at your waist. He twirled you suddenly, catching you with an arm around your back when you stumbled, dizzy with laughter.
âI thought you said I couldnât keep up?â he said, voice smug near your ear.
âThat was before you cheated,â you accused, cheeks flushed and eyes shining.
He grinned, slow and smug. âYou just donât know how to be led.â
Before you could reply, he dipped you low, one hand firm at your back, the other holding your hand as you arched with a breathless gasp, your hair brushing the wooden floor. You clutched his shoulder for balance, eyes locked with his. The music kept playing, but in that moment, you could barely hear it.
He didnât pull you up right away.
Just stood there, holding you like that, close and quiet, his expression unreadable, but something simmered beneath it.
And you suddenly forgot how to breathe when he leaned down and kissed you, deep and passionately.
Sometimes, you caught him staring at you when he thought you werenât looking, after dinner, when you were tucked into the corner of the couch in one of his oversized shirts; in the garden, when the light caught your hair just right. And when you looked back, he didnât look away.
But he never said anything. And neither did you.
You kissed like lovers. You moved like partners. You lived like something close to more.
But neither of you used the word.
Because the word would mean permanence.
And this? This wasnât permanent.
The morning he was supposed to leave came too fast.
The air felt heavy and still, as if the forest itself knew this was the end of something. You stood in the kitchen, a warm mug of tea cupped between your hands, untouched. The steam curled lazily toward the ceiling and vanished, just like everything else good lately seemed to.
He hadnât come downstairs yet. But you knew he was awake.
Youâd heard his footsteps moving upstairs before the sun had fully risen. He always woke before you now, falling into your rhythm like he was meant to be here. For over a month now, heâd been a presence you could rely on. Youâd gotten used to the way his voice rumbled through your house, to the way he touched things gently, to the sound of him breathing next to you.
He was leaving. And you didnât know how to hold onto something that was never really yours.
You heard him descending the stairs, and your breath caught without permission. When you turned, he was there, shoulders squared, spear-clothes replaced with something more familiar to him. A satchel was slung over his shoulder, and for the first time since the day you found him, he looked like he belonged to another world.
His world.
Not yours.
He stepped closer, wordless, and took the mug from your hands, setting it gently on the counter. His fingers grazed yours. They lingered for half a second too long. It wasnât an accident. You didnât pull away.
You said quietly, âYou donât have to say anything. I get it.â
He held your gaze. The look in his eyes was careful, unreadableâuntil it wasnât. You saw it in the way he blinked a little too slowly, like he was trying not to let it show. The conflict. The sadness.
âYou shouldnât be alone out here,â he said.
You gave a half-hearted smile. âI was alone before you. Iâll be fine after.â
He didnât agree. But he didnât argue either.
Instead, he stepped forward and rested his forehead against yours. His hands lifted to your cheeks, cradling your face like something breakable. You closed your eyes and let your breath catch in your throat. The moment stretched, full of everything you couldnât sayâeverything you wanted to ask but already knew the answer to.
âSo thatâs it?â you whispered.
There was no reply.
He kissed you. Soft. Intentional. Not rushed. It wasnât heat or hungerâit was a goodbye. His lips moved against yours like he was trying to memorize you. His hands trembled slightly at your jaw, but he didnât let go. Not until you had to breathe.
When he pulled away, his forehead rested against yours one last time.
And then he stepped back.
You didnât stop him. You wanted to, but your feet wouldnât move.
He looked at you once more. Just once.
He stood there for a moment, shoulders tense, back straightâlike he was bracing himself. Then he looked over, just enough for you to see the conflict in his eyes.
âI keep thinking if I look at you too long, Iâll stay.â
His voice was low, almost hoarse, but steady. âYou made this place feel⌠like more than just a place to heal. And I wasnât ready for that.â
His fingers tightened on the handle. âBut this, whatever this is between us, itâs not nothing. You know that, right?â
He looked at you long enough to see you cover your lips with your fingers and nod.
Then he turned, opened the door, and walked out.
The air was thick with the warmth of the afternoon sun as the waves lapped gently against the shore, and the village hummed with life. Tuk and a few of the younger Metkayina children were playing near the edge of the water when the distant figure of a Naâvi appeared. At first, they couldnât be sure, but thenâ
âNeteyam?â Tukâs voice was barely a whisper, but it cut through the air like a knife.
In an instant, her eyes widened, and a breathless gasp escaped her lips. âNETEYAM!â
Her scream rang out, drawing the attention of everyone around. Tukâs small body shot forward, running as fast as her legs could carry her. Her feet kicked up sand as she rushed toward the figure now stepping onto the shore. The other villagers froze for a moment, watching in shock as the younger girl sprinted toward her brother.
Tuk reached him first, her small arms wrapping around his legs as she sobbed, her tears flowing freely. âYouâre alive⌠Youâre alive!â she cried, her voice cracking with emotion.
Tuk never let go of him, clinging desperately to her brother as she looked up at him, still not fully believing her eyes.
Neteyam knelt slightly to pick her up, arms wrapping tightly around her. âHey, little one,â he whispered, burying his face in her hair. âI missed you too.â
Loâak didnât speak. He didnât move. He just stared, lips parted, his heart thundering in his chest. Then, like something snapped loose inside him, he moved, fast, running to them, barely stopping before he threw his arms around his older brother in a crushing hug. Tuk was squeezed between them, but neither seemed to notice.
Neteyam laughed under his breath, voice thick. âI here baby bro.
Behind them, Kiri came forward, blinking rapidly against her tears. She smiled through them as she reached out to touch Neteyamâs arm. Since one arm held tuk and the other rested on the back of Loâakâs head, Neteyam rest his head on kiriâs when she hugged him. âBrotherâŚyou are safe.â he whispered as if to confirm it was him.
He had missed them so much, he thought about this day everyday since you saved his laugh.
âWhere are mom and dad?â Neteyam asked them.
âThey are at home...â Kiri spoke up softly.
âCome let us go to them,â Neteyam ushered them along putting Tuk down for her to run ahead, Loâak walked next to him with Neteyamâs arm still on the back of his head and Kiri holding his other hand on the other side of him.
They walk along the path together until they made it in front of the Mauri. Tuk was hyperventilating trying to explain to them Neteyam was there but her words were so fast and jumbled they didnât understand.
Tuk burst in with a breathless cry, her voice high and jumbled. âHeâs here! Heâsâ I saw himâ outsideâheâs here!â
Jakeâs brow furrowed. Neytiri looked up immediately, alarm in her eyes. âTuk,â she said carefully, âslow downâwho is here?â
But Tuk just spun, pointing to the entrance, tears already brimming. âJust look!â
Jake and Neytiri exchanged a glance, uncertain, cautious, and then stood, slowly, like they were afraid to hope.
And then he stepped into view.
Neteyam stood tall in the doorway, backlit by the soft glow of the evening. His body was leaner than before, marked with faint scars and sun-darkened skin, but he was there. Whole. Alive.
Neytiri didnât breathe. Her eyes locked onto his face, wide and wet before her lips even parted.
âNeteyam?â she whispered, voice cracking.
Jake was frozen beside her, shoulders drawn tight with tension that hadnât left him since the day they lost him.
But when Neteyam took one step forward and murmured, âHi, saânok,â that was all it took.
Neytiri let out a sound somewhere between a sob and a prayer as she crossed the distance in seconds, throwing her arms around him. Her hands clutched at his back, his hair, his face, like she needed to touch every part to believe it was real.
Jake was only a breath behind her, wrapping both of them up in his arms.
Neteyam, once the calmest in the family, trembled under their grip.
âIâm sorry,â he said, barely audible, voice rough with emotion. âI didnât mean toââ
âAgh!â Neytiri hissed cutting him off, âyou are not at fault my son.â She reassumed him quickly.
âI should have come back sooner, I was healing. I am sorry.â Neteyam continued softly.
âAll that matters is that youâre here now.â Jake said as he held his face looking him in the eyes. âYou are so strong, and we are so proud of you.â
Neytiri nodded as she sobbed hugging him once more. âThank you, great mother! Thank you!â
Neteyam gave a small, broken laugh. And then Tuk wrapped herself around his side, Kiri touched his arm gently, and even Loâak, head lowered and eyes red, pulled him into a fierce hug from behind.
He was home.
They sat together in the family mauri, close like they hadnât been in weeksâno, months. The woven floor creaked softly beneath them as if it remembered their weight. Neytiri hadnât stopped touching him: her hand brushed over his arm again and again like she couldnât believe he was solid, real. Jake sat beside her, face unreadable, but his eyes never left Neteyam.
Kiri and Tuk sat cross-legged in front of him, and Loâak curled beside his older brother with his head on his shoulder. The silence that had followed the reunion lingered for only a few more seconds before Jake spoke.
âWhere the hell have you been?â
The question wasnât sharp, his voice cracked, it was full of awe and something that sounded like fear still clinging to his voice. Neytiri looked at Neteyam quickly, her brows pinched, echoing the question without saying it aloud.
Loâak added quietly, âWe thought something mustâve taken you. One minute you were on the rock and when we returned you were justâŚgone.â
âWere you taken?â Kiriâs voice was gentler, more cautious. âDid someone find you? How did you survive?â
Neteyamâs eyes dropped to the floor, his fingers moving slowly against the edge of the mat. âItâs⌠a long story,â he said finally.
Jake frowned. âWe have time.â
But Neteyam just shook his head. âI was lucky. Thatâs all. I got out of the water. I healed.â
âAlone?â Neytiri asked softly.
His jaw shifted slightly. âNot exactly.â
They all looked at each other, waiting, the questions thick in the air.
But Neteyam didnât offer more.
Loâak frowned. âYouâre not gonna tell us what happened?â
âIâm here. Thatâs what matters.â His voice was calm, but firm. Unmovable as he rested his hand on Loâakâs head once more.
There was a long pause.
Jakeâs shoulders sank slightly, but he didnât press. âAlright. We wonât push.â
Neytiri reached for his hand and squeezed it gently. âYouâll tell us when youâre ready.â
Neteyam met her eyes, a flash of guilt there, but also protectiveness. âYeah.â
The silence settled again, but this time it wasnât heavy. It was filled with the sound of being together again. The sound of breathing. Of warmth. Of a family no longer broken.
But the mystery remained, where had Neteyam gone? And who had helped him heal?
Over the next two weeks, the cracks in Neteyamâs armor began to show, subtle at first, but impossible to ignore.
It was little things at first, like the way heâd go rigid at the sudden crack of a fish net snapping, or the sharp clang of a pot dropped onto stone. He would still himself completely, eyes darting around before relaxing, but always a second too late, always too visibly. The others noticed. His father said nothing. Neytiri frowned often, quietly watching him from across the marui.
He wasnât cruel to his siblings, but he wasnât as patient as heâd always been. One afternoon, Tuk was playing with her shell collection, chattering brightly, when she accidentally dropped one. It cracked sharply on the floor and she let out a high-pitched scream, part startle, part sadness.
Neteyam was on her in an instant.
He knelt in front of her, hands gentle as he turned her arms and checked her legs for injury, for blood, for anything. But there was nothing. Just a wide-eyed little sister with a broken toy. He exhaled shakily, then said, just a touch too sharp, too strained, âWhy? You have nothing to be screaming for.â
Tukâs lip trembled. She didnât cry, but her small voice whispered, âIâm sorry.â
He softened immediately, brushing her hair back with a tender sigh. âNo. Iâm sorry, Tuk. I didnât mean it like that.â
His thoughts spiraled in quiet waves, always leading back to you. How you held his face in your hands. How you smelled after your shower. How your fingers twitched when you embroidered, always pulling too tight on the first stitch. The memory of your breath, warm against his throat.
He tried to bury it, keep himself moving. He picked up the bracelet work again. Loâak walked in one day, brows furrowed. âYou donât even give those to people.â
Neteyam didnât answer. He just kept weaving the pattern youâd taught him. Tight, crooked in one corner. Familiar.
It was the singing they noticed first.
Soft and low, barely more than a breath, but always the same melody. A tune no one in the family had heard before, one with an unfamiliar rise and fall, notes that sounded like comfort⌠and ache. Neteyam hummed it without realizing, usually when his hands were busyâcarving, weaving, or washing. Even when he walked along the shoreline at dusk, the melody trailed behind him like a shadow.
His siblings started to pick up on it. Kiri heard it while braiding her hair one morning and paused, tilting her head toward him. Loâak noticed it when they were spearfishingâNeteyam would drift off, his lips moving soundlessly until he jerked himself back to the moment. Tuk hummed it too, mimicking him unconsciously, but when she asked where it came from, Neteyam just looked away.
The song belonged to you, though he never said your name.
The silence he carried was louder than any melody.
And the sleep⌠or lack of it⌠that was next.
He didnât sleep on his pillow anymore. Not like before. Instead, he wrapped his arms around it, buried his face in the cottony middle, and curled himself tight like he was afraid of unraveling. His tail no longer lay relaxed across the woven mat; it was tucked close to his body, tense. Every few hours, heâd toss and turn, then sit up, wide-eyed and disoriented, breathing hard like heâd just been yanked from some far-off place.
Some nights, he paced in front of the marui, arms folded tight across his chest, jaw tense. Other nights he sat on the edge of his sleeping mat, elbows on his knees, staring at the floor while the rest of the family lay still. His eyes looked bruised with fatigue, but he never said he was tired.
And when he did sleep, it was only for a little while. A flicker of peace, until something small, a shout, a crashing wave, a shell hitting the ground, snapped him back to the surface.
Like the day Kiri accidentally dropped a basket and screamed when it fell apart. Neteyam had flinched so hard he nearly stumbled. He whipped his head to look at her, eyes scanning her arms, her legs, checking for blood, for breaks, for pain. But she was fine just startled. And when he realized there were no injuries, his face shifted.
âWhat the fuck Kiri? Get a grip. Literally,â he said, calm, but short, his voice clipped and colder than sheâd ever heard it.
Kiri blinked up at him, surprised. His hands were still on her shoulders, but his touch was lighter now. Gentle again. Like he knew heâd overstepped but didnât have the words to fix it. He stood without another word and walked away. Later that night, he brought her a sweetfruit and kissed her hair in apology, but didnât bring it up again.
His parents were quiet about it, but they noticed too.
They saw how heâd zone out during meals, fingers moving in patterns they couldnât recognize, embroidery, little woven strands, sometimes bracelets he didnât give to anyone. The designs were different from the ones he learned growing up. Too intricate, too⌠specific. Clearly taught by someone else but who? They couldnât say. They watched how he braided strands of twine for hours, all different colors and patterns, then tucked it under his sleeping mat like a secret.
Jake and Neytiri exchanged glances but didnât press. Not yet. Because their son had come back to them alive⌠but not entirely whole.
And while they didnât know who he was grieving, they could see it in everything he did.
Even the way he hummed that melody in the middle of the night, just loud enough to keep himself company, just quiet enough to mourn.
The glow of the bioluminescent lanterns outside the marui flickered faintly, casting soft light through the woven walls. Neteyam lay on his side on the sleeping mat, eyes half open, his arm loosely clutching the pillow heâd once only used for support. Now, he held it as if it were grounding him, something to anchor him in the silence of his own mind.
Behind him, Loâakâs forehead was pressed gently to his back, breathing slow and even. Heâd done this every night since Neteyam came home. Said nothing about it. Just curled up behind him like he needed to be sure he was real, listening to the steady beat of his heart before he could sleep himself.
A soft rustle stirred the quiet, and Neteyamâs ears twitched before he turned his head slightly toward the sound.
Neytiri stood at the entrance of the marui, her presence light, careful not to startle. Her eyes searched his in the dim glow soft, loving, concerned.
âCanât sleep?â she asked gently, crouching beside him.
Neteyam didnât speak at first. Just blinked slowly, then nodded. âSome nights are harder than others.â
She reached forward, brushing her fingers through his braids the way she had when he was younger. âYou do not have to hold it all inside, ma âitan.â
âIâm not,â he murmured. Then quieter, âNot all of it.â
Neytiri tilted her head, watching his face. âYou jump when things fall. You are quiet when you used to laugh. You are here, but your spirit is still traveling.â
He swallowed, shifting slightly, careful not to wake Loâak. âIâm just⌠tired, saânok. Thatâs all.â
âYou hold your pillow like someone who misses the weight of a body beside them,â she said softly, her tone tender, not accusing. âYou hum songs you did not know before. And you walk at night like the stars will answer you.â
Neteyamâs jaw tightened, but his eyes glistened with something unspoken.
âI am not asking for your secrets,â Neytiri added. âJust your heart. Let it rest, even for a little while.â
âIâm trying,â he whispered. His voice cracked just slightly. âI really am.â
She leaned in and kissed his forehead, then rested her own there for a long moment. âYou donât have to carry the whole war inside you anymore.â
When she pulled back, she smiled gently, brushing a thumb along his temple. âGoodnight, ma yawntu.â
âGoodnight, saânok,â he murmured.
Neytiri glanced at Loâak still sleeping soundly behind him, pressed to his back like a second heartbeat. Her eyes softened again. Then, without another word, she slipped out, leaving the siblings bundled in quiet comfort, one dreaming, the other still chasing peace behind heavy eyelids.
The sun had barely climbed above the tide when voices echoed outside the Sully family mauri â familiar, lighthearted. Loâak stepped out first to greet them, the sound of splashing feet in the shallows carrying over the breeze.
Aonung and Tsireya.
It had been nearly a month since the clan believed Neteyam was dead, taken by the sea before they could say goodbye. Now, he was alive. Healing. Quiet. Changed.
Neteyam sat cross-legged on his sleeping mat, back straight, hands loosely clasped. His shoulders tensed when he heard their laughter. It was strange, heâd missed them. Heâd once teased Aonung over every clumsy spear throw and laughed until his stomach hurt at Tsireyaâs mimicry of her fatherâs scolding tone. But today, something coiled tight in his chest.
They stepped into view.
Tsireya.
His breath caught.
She looked just like you in the sunlight.
The wide, curious eyes. The soft shape of her mouth when she smiled. The way her hair framed her face, falling like waves over her shoulders. His mind buckled beneath the weight of memories, the scent of your skin after a shower, your laugh when you danced around the cabin, your fingers pulling thread through cloth as you taught him embroidery. Tsireyaâs presence was a mirror, not a perfect one, but close enough to sting.
He stood slowly, greeting them with a half-smile. âYou came to see if Iâm real.â
Tsireya laughed, warm and sweet. âYouâre not a ghost. That much is clear.â
Neteyamâs eyes didnât leave hers. Not a ghost, she said, but he felt like one, like something still tethered to someone not here.
Aonung clapped him on the shoulder. âYou look like you wrestled a palulukan and won. Barely.â
They laughed. Neteyam smiled, but it didnât reach his eyes.
Later, when they all sat for lunch, Neteyam made space next to him and wordlessly tapped the mat, motioning Tsireya over. She glanced at Loâak, who gave her a subtle nod. She settled beside Neteyam, and he immediately rested his hand on her knee, a gesture so natural, no one questioned it. Except Loâak, who paused mid-bite.
Neteyam didnât notice. He was focused on the way Tsireyaâs lips curled as she bit into a piece of grilled fish, not because he was interested in her, but because he remembered the way you did that. The way youâd wrinkle your nose at certain spices. The way youâd hum without realizing it when food made you happy.
He leaned in and murmured something, making her laugh again. She was flattered â she thought he was just being sweet. Heâd always been her best friend, like a big brother in a way. She assumed this was just him returning to who he was.
But Neteyam wasnât who he was. Not anymore.
The longer the visit went on, the more attached he became. He walked with Tsireya to the reef where she helped tend to the clanâs younger swimmers, always a step too close. When she crouched to fix a childâs fins, he stood behind her, hand resting lightly on her shoulder. When she laughed, his eyes softened. When she smiled, his lips parted, as if a memory had just hit him like a wave.
And he didnât even realize what he was doing.
Loâak noticed, though. He noticed everything. The way Neteyam always found a reason to pull Tsireya aside. The way he no longer sat by him at meals, how he had a hand on her arm, her waist, her shoulder, always.
Loâak watched his brother quietly spiral, swallowed by a grief he never named, and a need he didnât understand.
And Neteyam?
Neteyam just kept seeing you.
Everywhere.
It started with subtle glances. The way Neteyamâs eyes lingered too long when Tsireya smiled. The way heâd fall silent mid-sentence just to watch her laugh. At first, no one said anything. Maybe they thought it was joy, the kind of light-heartedness that came with healing. Maybe they were just relieved to see him alive.
But it didnât stop.
It got worse.
Neteyam followed her. Everywhere. If Tsireya helped prepare meals, he was beside her, his hands brushing hers when she reached for seaweed or fish. If she went to the shoreline to teach the younglings, he stood behind her, arms crossed, eyes never straying. When she turned, she always found him already watching.
It was obsessive, quiet and unspoken, but visible in every move.
When she sat, he sat behind her and pulled her between his legs like it was instinct. When she laughed, he laughed, even if he didnât catch the joke. When she reached for something, his hand was already there. Too eager. Too close.
Tsireya didnât question it.
Neteyam had always been kind, comforting. And she thought, maybe after what he went through, he just needed familiarity. He was her friend. Maybe he missed her.
But it wasnât her he was seeing.
It was you.
Every movement, every look, every word she spoke it reminded him of you. But not in a nostalgic, gentle way. No, it consumed him. When she smiled, he swore his heart clenched. When she walked ahead of him, he blinked and saw you â your hair bouncing as you turned to grin at him. When she laughed, he imagined your voice beneath hers. It all blurred. Like a fever dream. Like he was drunk on a memory.
And his family began to notice.
Kiri watched him during dinner, chewing slowly, her brow furrowed. The way he always offered Tsireya food first. The way his arm always found its way around her back. The way he no longer looked at anyone else.
Tuk noticed too. She was too young to name it, but she stared a lot. Her big eyes darting between her big brother and Tsireya like she didnât understand what she was seeing, but she saw the way he stared at her. Almost in the same way she noticed Loâak looks at her.
Neytiri, sitting near the hearth one evening, turned to Jake and whispered, âHeâs holding on to something. Do you see it?â
Jake only nodded. His eldest son sat across from them, hands idly weaving another bracelet. Another one with strange knots and colors. Patterns he never used before. Patterns only you had taught him.
But it was Loâak who saw the most.
Because Tsireya was his.
Heâd been so happy when Neteyam came home. He missed him more than words could carry. And for a while, everything felt whole again. But it cracked slowly â painfully â when he started seeing Neteyam reaching for Tsireyaâs hand before he could. When Neteyam stood too close. Sat too close. Touched her hair without asking.
When Loâak came back from a dive one afternoon, dripping and breathless, he saw Neteyam laughing with Tsireya â his hands gently tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. She smiled, oblivious.
Loâak stopped mid-step, staring.
Neteyam didnât even notice him.
Didnât see him.
That night, Loâak didnât sleep. He lay on his side, staring at his brotherâs back, the rise and fall of Neteyamâs breathing. And like every night since Neteyam came home, Loâak gently rested his forehead between his brotherâs shoulder blades, listening to his heartbeat.
But that night, Neteyamâs heart was racing. Too fast.
Loâak whispered, âWhatâs going on with you, bro?â But Neteyam didnât answer. He never answered.
The next day, Neteyam got quiet. Detached. Like he knew something was wrong and couldnât explain it. He started singing softly while working, that same strange song again. The one no one recognized. Over and over. A lullaby. Your lullaby.
Neteyamâs affection for Tsireya was no longer subtle. His family had begun noticing it in clearer moments, when he wasnât trying to appear collected. One afternoon, while Loâak was off gathering shellfish, Neteyam spotted Tsireya weaving fishing baskets with his sister and without hesitation, walked over, crouched beside her, and brushed her hair back from her cheek with a tenderness that startled even her. She smiled, unsure, assuming it was one of their old familiar gestures, but Kiri saw the look in Neteyamâs eyes, intense, distracted, reverent and felt something in her chest tighten.
During a communal meal, he asked Tsireya to sit next to him, again. When she hesitated, glancing between him and Loâak, Neteyam gently took her wrist and guided her down beside him, handing her a piece of roasted fruit with a soft smile. Neytiri watched silently from across the mat, her eyes narrowing just slightly.
Neteyam started making things for her. One evening, Kiri walked past him at the edge of the reef, where he sat alone, stringing a bracelet with the exact knot pattern you had taught him. But when Kiri asked who it was for, he tucked it behind his back and murmured, âNo one. Just practice.â Hours later, it was braided into Tsireyaâs hair.
Loâak tried to ignore it at first. Tried to explain it away, Neteyam was healing, disoriented, confused. But it kept happening. Neteyam started offering to escort Tsireya during her clan duties, would walk with her in silence, his gaze fixed forward, occasionally slipping his hand into hers like it was the most natural thing in the world. Once, when she stopped to fix her net, he sat behind her, wrapping his arms loosely around her waist while she worked. Loâak saw them. He didnât say anything. Not yet.
The others noticed too. Aonung, usually quick to tease, grew quiet, throwing glances between Neteyam and Loâak with a furrowed brow. Kiri kept her distance, choosing silence over confrontation, though her gaze lingered on her older brother longer than usual, trying to decipher what had broken in him.
Neteyam was drifting. Delusional in a way he couldnât admit to himself, not even when the truth pressed down like a wave about to pull him under.
He didnât even see Tsireya anymore.
Not really.
Every time she laughed, it was your laugh he heard light, airy, wrapped in something only he had ever known. When her fingers brushed his, his skin prickled like yours had touched him instead, soft and certain, with that quiet boldness you always carried. Tsireya would smile up at him, wide-eyed and kind, and all he could think was there you are.
In the curve of Tsireyaâs mouth, he saw the way you used to smirk at him when you knew he was watching you. In her eyes, he swore he caught the same stormy glint youâd get when you were teasing him or trying not to smile too wide. Her hair when it clung to her shoulders after a dive looked just like yours had that night when he kissed you in the kitchen, his hands in your wet hair, your mouth all heat.
It happened slowly, then all at once.
One morning, Tsireya handed him a fruit and her fingers grazed his palm, and he smiledânot at her, but at you. He looked right at her and called her by your name. Softly. Naturally. Like it was always meant to be that way.
She tilted her head, confused, but Neteyam didnât notice, he didnât even notice the way he brushed it off when she questioned it changing the subject to something that distracted her..
In his mind, you were smiling at him. Youâd just brought him something to eat, you were laughing like you did when he stole bites from your fingers. You were standing right there in front of him, just like always.
When Tsireya asked him to help gather shells for the clanâs ritual, he agreed without hesitation, thinking it was you asking him to take a walk by the shoreline, to do something domestic and sweet and yours. He barely heard her voice anymore. His brain filtered it into something softer. Your tone. Your cadence.
At dinner, when everyone was seated and Loâak beckoned Tsireya to sit beside him, Neteyamâs hand was already tugging her wrist toward the spot next to him. He didnât even glance at Loâak. His eyes were glued to her no, you like if he let go, youâd disappear all over again.
And when she settled beside him and laughed about something someone said, he turned to her and whispered, âYouâre beautiful when you laugh like that.â
She blinked. âNeteyam?â
But he didnât even hear the hesitation in her voice. He only saw the faint light on her cheeks, the way her hair swayed against her collarbone. He leaned in like it was natural. Like heâd done it a hundred times before. Because he had with you.
âYou always do that,â he said, voice low, fond. âYou tilt your head like that when youâre trying not to blush.â
Tsireya blinked again. âWhat?â
But Neteyam only smiled, thumb brushing the edge of her jaw gently. He was gone. Fully, entirely lost in you.
To him, this wasnât Tsireya anymore.
It hadnât been for days.
It was you, back from the cabin, here in front of him again. He didnât realize how often he whispered your name. How his voice wrapped around it like a prayer. How his grip lingered too long, his eyes saw someone else, his heart responded to a ghost.
The only person who noticed the unraveling was Loâak.
He watched his brother sit beside his girlfriend like she belonged to him. Watched him touch her hair with a faraway look. Watched him smile at her like she held the entire sky in her handsâand not once, not once, did he call her by name.
Loâakâs chest tightened with dread. Because he didnât know who this version of Neteyam was. And he was scared to find out what it would take to bring his brother back.
The tide was low and gentle that afternoon, the water pulling rhythmically at the sand with soft hushing sounds. Loâak was returning from a dive task, surfacing with a bundle of netted sea urchins slung over his shoulder, droplets dripping from his hair as he approached the shore.
Thatâs when he saw them.
Tsireya sat on a woven mat of dried reeds, a shallow basket resting between her crossed legs, her fingers nimbly sorting through small, polished shells and tiny coral pieces. And behind herâNeteyam. Legs outstretched on either side of her, his arms looped loosely around her shoulders, chin brushing the side of her head, body curved around hers like she belonged to him.
They were laughing.
Not loudly, just that shared, intimate kind of laughter between two people lost in each otherâs orbit. Neteyam was murmuring something to her, soft and teasing, his voice low near her ear. She leaned her head back lightly against his chest and smiled, relaxed, content.
He plucked a shell from her hand, pretending to inspect it dramatically before holding it up in mock approval. âThis one?â he asked, eyes on her. âToo pretty to be left alone.â
She giggled, reaching up to nudge his chin. âYouâre not even helping.â
âI am,â he protested lightly, wrapping his arm more snugly around her. âIâm the emotional support.â
Loâak stood still, halfway between the ocean and the sand, saltwater still clinging to his skin. At first he thought maybe it was innocent. His brother and his girlfriend had always been close. But something was different now. Something in the way Neteyam held her like it was second nature. The way his fingers brushed hers when she reached into the basket. The way his gaze lingered on her smile a fraction too long. The way he looked at her like she was the only thing keeping him from falling apart.
It hit Loâak like a sucker punch.
Neteyam wasnât looking at Tsireya like a friend.
He was looking at her like she was his.
Like she was someone he needed.
Loâakâs gut twisted. The weight of it made his chest feel tight. He watched for one more second, then turned sharply on his heel and stormed up the path, each step heavier than the last.
He couldnât ignore it anymore. Tsireya was the love of his life, Neteyam knew that before he got shot.
Loâak stormed into the family mauri, chest heaving, dripping wet from the ocean, salt still clinging to his skin. The sack of gathered shells fell from his shoulder with a dull thump onto the floor. The sound made Neytiriâs head snap up from where she was weaving. Jake looked up from carving a small piece of driftwood, and Kiri paused, hand midair with her gathering bowl.
He stood there, fists balled at his sides, trying to keep it in, but it spilled out anyway.
âI canât keep watching this.â
Jake frowned. âWhat happened?â
Loâak didnât answer right away. He stepped deeper into the room, rubbing his hand over his face like he couldnât believe what he saw.
âI went to the reef after the storm. I was helping gather shell bundles the current dragged outâŚâ His voice was unsteady. âAnd I saw them.â
âWho?â Kiri asked softly.
âNeteyam. Tsireya.â
Neytiriâs hands went still in her lap.
Loâak scoffed, a bitter sound. âHe had her between his legs. They were sitting in the sand like they do it every fucking day, his arms around her, helping her sort through little fucking shells, whispering to her. She was laughing. Leaning back against him like they were⌠like they were together.â
Jakeâs expression tightened.
Loâakâs voice cracked. âHe never looked at her like that. Never. Before heâbefore the ship, before everythingâhe- she was his friend, his best friend.. She was mine. I brought her into our family, I brought her home, and not himâŚâ
He shook his head like it physically hurt. âNow he wonât leave her side. He follows her when she walks. He sits next to her at every meal. He touches her shoulder when he talks. Heâs always smiling at her. I canât even get a minute alone with my own girlfriend. He just pops up out of fucking no where and takes her away casually.â
He looked between them, desperate. âWhy is he doing this?â
Kiriâs brow furrowed. âMaybe heâs trying to reconnectââ
âNo,â Loâak snapped. âThis isnât about reconnecting. Heâs obsessed. He acts like heâs known her forever. Like he sees something else when he looks at her.â
Neytiri stood, slowly approaching him. âLoâak, your brother went through something we donât understand. He almost died. Maybe heâs notââ
âHeâs not right,â Loâak whispered, his voice breaking. âHeâs not who he was. He looks at her like he loves her, he looks at her the way I look at her, but I swear to Eywa, he doesnât even see her. Itâs like he sees someone else in her face. Like heâs talking to a ghost.â
The silence that followed was heavier than the storm that had passed that morning.
Jakeâs jaw was tight. Kiri looked away, worried and thoughtful. And Neytiri, heart aching, placed a hand on Loâakâs shoulder.
But Loâak just looked at the fire, eyes flickering.
âI donât know who my brother is anymore,â he said. âAnd I donât think he does either.â
Jakeâs jaw was tight, his hands clasped together as he leaned forward. âWe need to figure this out,â he said, voice low and tense. âThis isnât just about him acting strangeâheâs not here. Heâs somewhere else in his head.â
âHeâs obsessed more like it, with My tsireya.â Loâak muttered, still fuming, pacing with his arms folded.
Kiri watched him, eyes sharp with worry. âHe is. I think there was someone else⌠when he was gone. Thatâs why heâs not himself. He left part of himself behindâmaybe with her.â
Neytiri, quiet until now, looked toward the entrance of the mauri. âThen we need to draw it out of him gently. He wonât talk if he feels cornered.â
Jake gave a slow nod. âSo, hereâs what we doâwe keep him close. Watch. Ask things that sound innocent, things that might slip past his defenses. Especially things about where he was, how he survived.â
âWe bring Tsireya around less,â Kiri added. âMaybe if heâs seeing someone else in her, maybe distance will help him see clearly.â
Loâakâs shoulders dropped slightly. âAnd if he doesnât come around?â
Jake looked at his son, his voice firm but calm. âThen we help him remember who he is. Even if it means dragging it out of him piece by piece.â
Neytiri nodded. âTogether.â
They all sat in the quiet a moment longer, the hum of the ocean beyond their walls steady waiting. Watching. Planning.
Because something was broken inside Neteyam⌠and they couldnât ignore it any longer.
âNeteyam is scary bro⌠no way this works. I think heâll lash out if you take tsireya away from him, even if itâd slowly. Heâs like her shadow. Heâll notice.â Loâak says after a beat of silence.
âYour right but Neteyam would never hurt usâ Kiri went on looking between them. âBut weâve seen what he can do, we all know what he is capable off.â
âLike when that shoulder knocked spider over?â Loâak added. âNeteyam practically tore him apart. He didnât even blink.â
Jake exhales through his nose, he was the reason Neteyam was so highly trained. âHeâs trained to end threats, not negotiate with them.â
âWe are assuming here from Loâakâs description that heâs seeing someone else. The. He is right. What if he snaps?â
Silence.
It was Loâak, surprisingly, who voice the next idea, âwhat if we do the opposite?â Everyone looked at him. âWhat if we use Tsireya? Not as bait but as a way in, maybe heâll open up and talk to her.â
Kiri frowned, âhe is not going to admit anything. Assuming he doesnât know heâs doing it.â
âBut maybe she can lead him there,â Jake said, catching on. âIf we prep her, really explain what we think is going on, she could ease it out of him, ask the right questions.â
Neytiriâs frown depends, âyou are assuming sheâll even believe us. My son is leveled headed in any situation. Everyone knows that. Why would she believe that Neteyam if all people is delusional and seeing someone else if her eyes?â
Sure enough the next morning they gentle pulled tsireya aside and say her down explaining what they thought might be going on with Neteyam. They explained they thought he was lost, fantasizing about someone else. And she blinked, wide-eyed and confused.
She shook her head genuinely puzzled. âButâŚheâs not in love with me. He never was. I am with you Loâak. And now heâs just⌠sweet. Clingy, yes, butâŚnot delusional.
Jake stepped in, âwe think that itâs not you heâs seeing tsireya. We donât have another explanation for why heâd act like this out of nowhere.â
Loâakâs voice was tight, more hit than angry now. âYouâre not who he thinks you are. But if you talk to him, if you help him open up about what happened when he wasnât here. When he was healing that gunshot wound that should have killed him. Heâll go back to being your friend. My brother.â
She was quiet for a long time but ultimately decided to help. âWhat do I even ask him?â
The truth was, they were all worried this could go wrong. Neteyam was a weapon forged in war. But he was also a son, and a brother, a friend. And he was loved, they cared.
It was nearing twilight when Tsireya entered the Sully family mauri, soft-voiced and tentative. The air inside was still, heavy with the scent of the ocean and herbal smoke. Jake sat cross-legged near the fire pit, feigning focus on carving. Neytiri was sorting through drying herbs. Kiri shelled seeds in the corner. Loâak had returned from his task not long before and stood off to the side, jaw tight, watching.
Neteyam was sitting on his sleeping mat, hair tied back loosely, a bracelet half-finished in his lap. His expression shifted the moment he saw Tsireya â softened, lit with affection. âHey,â he murmured. âCome sit with me.â
She did, settling cross-legged beside him, close as always. She gave a polite nod to the rest of his family, then turned to him. âI wanted to ask you something.â
Neteyam nodded, relaxed. âAnything.â
âDo you remember the first time you woke up? After you got hurt?â she asked, gently.
His gaze shifted to look at her for a second, âof course I do. I remember everything.you were there.â
Tsireya hesitated, âwhat was I doing?â
Neteyam chuckled, âshe- you stitched me up and stopped the bleeding then put me on your couch to sleep and I woke up after a while and you were asleep in the couch right in front of me. You rememberâŚ. I had threatened to stab you I thought I was captured by the RDA. But I wasnât it was just you and me in the cabin.â
They all heard it, âSheâ they were right.
Jake subtly looked up. Kiri had stopped shelling seeds, Neytiriâs hands slowed and Loâak rubbed his hands over his face.
âAndâŚ.the song?â Tsireya continued carefully, âwhat song did I sing?â
âYou know it?â He said quickly. âYou turned on the radio in the windowsill, you sang the words so much I memorized it, you said it was one of your favorite songs, it wasâŚ. we danced in the kitchen.â
He looked at her with pure devotion.
His family was reeling. They didnât know what to think.
âAnd the brackets,â she went on, âwhen did you learn to make those?â
He smiled. âYou taught me, my second week. We sat outside in the grass, and you taught me. Made me promise one day Iâd teach someone else the patterns, so theyâll stay alive?â
His face dropped a little.
Kiriâs brow pulled together.
Loâak had stood up, taking a step then back.
Tsireya whispered, âandâŚwhere are we right now?â
Neteyam blinked.
âYou and meâ she clarified. âWhere are we?â
He looked around at the mauri, his family seated around, and for a second his face twisted in confusion, âwe are in my family home. It is not the forest though.â
He knew where he was, they noted.
Tsireya swallowed. âNeteyam⌠do you see me?â
He stared at her confused, âof course I see you.â
âNo.â She pressed, voice breaking a little. âDo you seeâŚme? Not the woman you spent time within the cabin, not who saved your life. Do you see me Neteyam?â
He frowned, visibly disturbed, âwhy are you talking like this? Why are you pretending?â His voice was strained now, shaken. âWhy are you pretending it wasnât you who saved me? You are. You kept me alive. You were there.â
The room held its breath.
Tsireya didnât respond.
Neteyam reached for her hand, gripping it tightly. âwhy are you doing this to me? Donât you remember? The cabin on the cliff, nice open yard space, private garden where you grow fruits and vegetables to cook and eat. The..porch swing? How could you forget?â
Tsireyaâs breath hitched, her voice nearly there. âI wasnât there.â
He froze.
Slowly her grip on his hands tightened. âThat wasnât me, Neteyam.â
The world around him tilted. His moth hoarded, but no sound came out yet.
âWhy are you saying this? All of this happened, and so much more.â He stressed, âand then I brought you here. Home! To my family, I- youâŚ.you had dinner and my parents, my brother, my sisters they like you!â
His eyes dart around to his family.
Kiri stood up, Jake stepped forward, face tense calm, but wary, âsonââ
âNo! Dad! Donât you like her? Isnât she amazing? She saved my life she⌠for once I didnât have toâŚshe took care of me!â Neteyamâs voice was getting louder.
He let go of her hands and stood up fast, the sleeping mat shifted under his feet. âNo. No, no, no, donât do think. Why are you all doing this?â
âMy son, you are not well,â Neytiri said softly.
âI am fine,â he snapped, âshe just⌠sheâs confused, why are you confusing her?â
Tsireya stood up her hands on his shoulder as he tried to calm him. âNeteyam pleaseââ
His eyes dart from here to everyone else. âWhy are you all acting like she isnât here? She is here! She was there! She saved me!â
Loâak stepped forward, âyou're not talking to her. You think you are but yours not.â He tried to be as gentle as possible.
Neteyam turned to him trembling, breathing shallow.
âI donât know who yours seeing, I donât know who you think is here brother. But itâs not Tsireya.â
âTsireya? I donât want Tsireya sheâs your girlfriend bro, what are you saying?â
âNeteyam.â Loâak walked up to him holding his shoulders as he spoke again, âlook at her.â Neteyam eyes darted unsure. What were they saying to him. âLook at her.â He repeated and he did. He looked at her. He saw you he still saw you and he was about to protest but then he saw it. A flicker of blue where your golden eyes were and it changed. Straight hair to curly, lighter skin, thick arms, legs, tail. He said tsireya.
He stumbled back abruptly, almost tripping over his own feet. His hand push Loâak away and he rubbed them over his face. He shut his eyes and open them, and you were gone.
âNo, no⌠this isnâtâŚâ he whispered. The memory of you flickering like flame behind his eyes, âwhere did you go?â He asked the air. âWhere did⌠what the fuck!â
âIâm not crazy I swear Iâm not crazy, youâre- sheâs real! Mom! Sheâs real!â He was practically shouting now.
âShe saved me life when you all left to get Kiri and tuk off that ship! You thought I died you left! She came up from the ocean and saw me! Saw life in me and she saved me! Stopped the bleeding and stitched it up so I could wake up! SheâŚshe cooked and helped me regain strength; she was peaceful. So peaceful and I- she⌠I brought her home..â he whispered the last part.
Neytiri with tears in her eyes walked up to her son, âI believe you, calm downââ
âCalm down? I- where is she!?â
Jake quick on his feet, held onto his son to ground him. âHey, hey, hey. Look at me boy.â
Neteyam listened, still panting.
âWhatâs her name?â
ââŚy/nâ
He knows now, you were not here. You were never here. Did he really leave you in the cabin. Eywa, he wishes he didnât. He couldnât leave everything behind. He wanted you to come. Why didnât he ask you to come?
âHow much time passed since I came back here?â
âAlmost two months sonâ Neytiri answered.
Two months. Two whole months youâve been alone while heâd been delusional and in love with you to the point where he imagined you in another person. Why did he leave you there? The question echoed. What was his excuse. You didnât mean nothing. You meant everything.
Neteyam bolted outside, his family confused followed him watching him call his ikran and bond quickly shooting into the sky. His mother didnât let him get far before she called her own and they all followed. Tsireya riding with Loâak followed Neteyam into the sky.
âNeteyam!â Jakeâs voice cracked through the air.
âBro, STOP!â Loâak yelled, desperately chasing the blur of blue and war paint ahead.
But Neteyam didnât hear them.
Or rather, he did, but it didnât matter.
He couldnât stop. Not now. He knew where he was going. The wind stung his face; his eyes burned with salt and memory. He gripped Seze tighter, as if she could sense the ache in his soul. And maybe she could. She flew harder, faster.
His shoulders trembled. His mind replayed the look on your face when you first reached for him that night in the cabin. How you pressed a cloth to his wound. The warmth of your hands. The quiet strength in your voice.
âYouâre safe.â
He let out a low, broken sound, part gasp, part cry.
He had to find you. He needed you.
Behind him, the Sullys followed in silence. Watching him, helpless and afraid. Jakeâs jaw clenched. Neytiriâs heart raced with motherâs dread. Loâak⌠Loâak couldnât even feel angry anymore.
âHeâs not stopping,â Kiri murmured.
âNo,â Jake said grimly, eyes locked on his son. âHeâs not.â
The wind howled around them as they cut through the sky, chasing after Neteyam, who chased the only piece of peace he had left. You.
The cliff winds howled around him as Seze descended sharply, banking with precision toward the narrow ledge beside the cabin tucked into the trees. The ocean stretched wide and wild below, waves crashing violently against the cliff, but Neteyam didnât hear them. All he could hear was the hammering of his heart and the blood rushing in his ears.
The cabin stood where it always had, carved partially into the stone, half wood and half earth, smoke curling faintly from the chimney. That meant someone was here.
That meant you were here.
His eyes dart around sharply looking for you and he saw you. Sitting in the porch swing cleaning some fruits from a basket you had on the table next to you.
Neteyam bolted. Ran as fast as he could to get to you. When you didnât see him and look up your thought you were dreaming. âHe came back?â
You stood up slowly and he didnât slow down, he didnât stop. He just crashed into you, arms wrapping around you like you were the most importantly thing in the world.
He was much stronger than when he had left. You almost lost track of time, it had beenâŚnearly two months since the last time you saw him. He was leaner, more muscular, his hair was braided again. âNeteyamâŚâ you whisper into his chest.
Your hands had slowly wrapped around his back molding into him like you did a million times before.
âI thought IâŚI thought I imagined you. Eywa youâre real.â
He pulled back and held you face in his hands, stroking your cheek idly, âof course I am real.â Your hand went up to rest on his. He was about to pull you in for a kiss but was stopped.
âNeteyam.â He knew that voice, his motherâs sharp tone cut through the air.
Neteyam didnât let you go; he pulled you back to his body shielding you from them. His mother stalked towards them, her knife held in her hand, he knew if she got the opportunity sheâd strike.
His father, brother and sister were behind her moments after. The tension was thick even though they were several paces behind his mother. Loâak watched in dread, holding tsireyaâs hand to keep her close to him. Kiri furrowed her eyebrows. And Jake stood, jaw clenched.
Your eyes darted from his mother to his father, then his siblings. You had no idea who they were. He didnât talk about them. You didnât ask but you just knew in your gut. They were his family.
His motherâs voice was low and furious, âsheâs one of them Neteyam.â
âShe is not,â he snapped, still holding you close, âshe saved me.â
âWe thought you were dead. You vanished. For weeks!â
âShe found me bleeding on that rock.â He yelled, voice cracking. âI wouldnât died if not for her. She stayed, she cared for me. Sheââ
He looked down at you again his hands bringing you impossibly closer. His breathing hitched, âshe never left.â
Neytiri turned to you. Her eyes were sharp, untrusting, like a blade drown just before it strikes. âWhy?â She asked, voice low and hard, âwhy help him? Why hide him? Why not bring him back to us?â Her voice got louder, more strained.
You opened your mouth be no words came, before it could, Neteyam a stepped in again, more desperate now. âShe didnât know who I was. I threatened to kill her the first nightâhad a knife pointed at her. And stillâŚshe took care of me. She didnât even know my name! She justâŚhelped.
His motherâs lips pressed into a tight line. Her stare hadnât heft you. Every instinct in her screamed danger, this was no ordinary woman. You were from the RDA, an avatar. And her son had chased hallways across the sky to fall into your arms like a wounded child seeking home.
Loâak broke the silence with a step forward, âso what now?â His voice was low and heavy. âWe justâŚleave him here?â
Jake placed a hand on his shoulder, steadying him.
Kiri whispered, âhe is not the same. You saw him these past weeks⌠he wasnât himself without her.â
Still his mother didnât back down, âthat does not make her safe.â
But Neteyam turned back towards her, tears barely held back, âshe is. She is the only reason I am alive, the reason Iâm standing here. Please, saânok.â
For the first time in her life, Neytiri hesitated.
She saw her son not as the warrior, but as the boy, fractured and trembling. She looked again at you, not as a soldier, but as someone holding him like he mattered.
She didnât lower her guard. Not yet. But she took one step back.
Jakeâs voice finally broke in, loud and firm. âAlright enough! You will tell us everything! And I mean everything boy. Right now.â
Neteyam sat bringing your body down with his. Held you close legs wrapped around you as if to crest a barrier between you and everyone else. Jake walked to Neytiri and took her knife sitting her down gently and sat next to her, Kiri and Loâak on the other side of him and tsireya slightly behind Loâak.
âWhat happened brother?â Kiri asked him softly.
He looked at her before his eyes dart to his parents then brother, âthe day I got shot on the rock, I didnât die. Iâm sure you all thought so but I didnât. She was in the ship and swan up, only noticed me on the rock after.â
âI noticed he was alive and I⌠couldnât just let him dieâ you finally spoke. You sat up as straight as you could since it was clear Neteyam wasnât about to let you go.
âI brought him here because I didnât have anything on me out there to help him. He was unconscious and he felt until almost the next day, when he woke up naturally, he had questions. Threatened to stab me, when he found out I was RDA he tried to leave but his injury was severe, he couldnât even walk.â You explain softly.
The next few days I didnât trust her, I didnât even want her help, but she stayed with me all night in the couch since I couldnât go anyways her else. Helped me clean up the dry blood if my skin in places I couldnât reach. She cooked and fed me, helped me regain my strength.â Neteyam said softly.
âAnd I thought about you all⌠everyday. But I was in no condition to travel, and I couldnât make her take me home. For her to fly in there and get an arrow to the chest? Sheâs the reason Iâm alive, she⌠I...â he couldnât find the words.
âWhy didnât you tell us?â Jake asked.
âI didnât know howâd you would all react to this. Itâs not that I wanted to keep it from you. Itâs more I didnât want you to think that she is a bad person because of where she comes from. Dad sheâŚdidnât even know my name.. if she had some alternative agenda I would have been in a jail cell of dead. Not here.â He gestured to the cabin.
âWe bonded over music and stars, we didnât talk about the past or the RDA we were just in the moment, I didnât have to worry, I wasnât on guard for the first time in years, I relaxed.â He continued.
Jake exhaled through his nose and rubbed the bridge of it, his elbow propped on his knee. âSo l-let me get this straight,â he said slowly, glancing between the two of you. âYou were out here. With her. For over a month. And you didnât think to send word back to us?â
âWhat was I supposed to do dad? Send a carrier pigeon? A text? Say âhey dad Iâm alive, this pretty girl from the RDA saved me and now Iâm living in a cabin in a cliff Iâll be back in a couple weeks.ââ
Loâak snorted and Kiri covered her mouth to stop from laughing. Neytiri let out a hiss and Jake raises a hand, âdonât sass me boy. You can see where I might have issues understanding this situation.â
The words hung in the air like a storm cloud.
đŠľReblogs, likes and comments are always appreciated.
HOLY SHIT⌠Girl, I just finished the second part of this and OMFG
If you have a sec (probably more like a good while) PLEASE READ THIS TWO SHOT
This was so amazing. The plot? I was on the edge of my seat, engaged, so incredibly locked in. The characters? PERFECT! Idk how you managed to write EVERYONE in character the whole time⌠The relationship with Neteyem? BEAUTIFULL! Exactly how I picture Naâvi bonds and the dedication they have to each other. From the beginning of part one to the end of part two, it was GOOOOD!
10/10- this is a masterpiece! And a LONG ONE at that. (83k+ words⌠I did the math and Iâd read every word again!)
I will be clocking in to my shift to read more of you!!!!
synopsis: while running away from the wreckage of the air ships and trying to lose the ash people on their tails, loâak gets himself kidnapped by you, varangâs tsahik in training. seemingly not for murderous reasons though, judging by the size of your pupilsâŚ
triggers: literally none. thereâs mentions of murder, kidnapping obviously, dead animals, but this is so silly and fluffy that itâs ridiculous.
a/n: guys, i dont know if you know this about me but i love writing chaotic and obsessive female characters, itâs so fun. this is just a cute and silly idea i had had late last night so i decided to write it cause i can. enjoy!
ORIGINAL ART BY: @/soulofewya on insta
You first saw him when he was hiding with two other forest people and a sky demon, watching as your tsahik surged energy through her kuru into the one of an air nomads. The front of your body was pressed against the top of a large tree branch, watching their reactions to Varang cutting off their kuru, the naâvi falling limply to the floor. You liked watching peopleâs reactions to atrocities committed by your people because one was never exactly the same as anotherâs. He caught your attention though. You didnât know why. Maybe it was the steel weapon in his hand, pointed at your people, or the fact that he hadnât pulled the trigger yet. His braids were pulled back in a loose ponytail, wrapped with a beaded band, shaved on the sides and decorated with ocean people adornments. His skin was darker, bluer with a touch of purple from sun exposure. You wanted to smell him, see if he smelled like the ocean or now of smoke from the raid. Your smiled widened when you heard the sudden noise of your people noticing them. Then the chase began.
You followed in the tree tops as the pack chased after them on the ground, your body curving and leaping from branch to branch as your eyes stayed locked on them. The one you had been watching turned and used the steel weapon to take out Viâik in one incredibly quick moment, faster than an arrow and looked as if pure air had shot through him. The four kept running as Varang stopped everyone to investigate how her second in command died so easily. You ignored them though and continued following them out of sight.
You caught their names as they spoke to each other, calling for each other to hurry up and which direction to go. The two girls were Kiri and Tuk, you assumed Tuk was the smaller one from the childlike name, Spider was the sky demons, whoâs age you hadnât yet figured out as he was the same size as a child but his voice was deeper than one. Such a small species, itâs ridiculous. And then, Loâak. Your insides practically melted when you whispered it to yourself, loving the way it rolled off your tongue. You wanted him to be yours, your possession, yours to have. A mateâŚperhaps. It wasnât the way of your people, a permanent forever mate, as it was easier to breed the next generation when nobody was limited to one perfect person. But you wanted him all to yourself.
âCome on, letâs go, letâs go!â Loâak whispered harshly to the his siblings and Spider.
Before any of them could respond to him, a black rope shot out from above them and wrapped around Loâakâs body. Everyone screamed as he was yanked off the forest floor and into the trees, gone.
His back hit hard against the bark of a wide branch, a hand pushed against his chest keeping him there as pain shot through him and he groaned loudly. When he opened his eyes, he saw you hovering over him, your yellow eyes wide and wild, just staring at him. Loâak immediately started trying to push you away, wiggle out from underneath your hand but you were very strong. He hissed in your face to try to get you away but you only returned it louder before it tampered off into you smiling like a maniac, like this was funny. Heâd dropped his gun when he was pulled up so he didnât have a weapon anymore, Tuk had his dagger. Your body was hovering over him with your legs pinning his down and the hand on his chest keeping him in place. You leaned down closer to his face which shocked him just enough to look at you for a moment, study you like you were to him. You had the same large red triangle down your forehead to the tip of your nose that that ash woman had with a matching one on your chin, there were red fans behind your ears similar to hers as well but yours were more of a red stretched skin instead of feathers. White painted triangles dragged down the inner corners of your eyes, the color matching the sharp bone piercing your bottom lip. You wereâŚpretty, to say the least. It was your eyes though that caught his attention the most. Your pupils were blown.
âHiâŚâ You whispered to him, your eyes darting all over his face and chest. It almost soundedâŚgenuine. Friendly with an edge of something else that he didnât know. Loâak couldnât trust it though, not after what he just witnessed your people do.
He hissed again, weaker and throatier, which just caused you to giggle at his attempt at scaring you off. Then something sharp jabbed him in the side and he immediately started to feel woozy.
Your cheek pressed to his as you whispered in his ear, âNight night.â
~
Loâak awoke with a start, a small gasp escaped him as his body stiffened wherever it was. Blinking away the blurriness, he saw you sat a few feet in front of him, legs crossed and your hands busy with braiding something. Immediately he tried to stand but his arms were stopped with the rope keeping them tied tight behind his back.
âLet me go.â He knew it was useless, youâve gone through the enough of kidnapping him so why would you let him go once heâs woken up? But there was something different about you, no matter how clichĂŠ it sounded. You hadnât killed him after all. Heâd been at your mercy and you hadnât killed him, hadnât taken his kuru or joined your own with his.
Your head had immediately popped up from your little project at the sound of his voice, your tail starting to thump against the ground.
âHehe, hi.â You said again, shifting into a crouching position to crawl over to him slowly on your hands and feet. Loâak stayed silent as you came closer, your knees touched his as you sat in front of him.
âWhyâd you take me?â He asked, reminding himself to stay on alert, even if it was only you two here at the moment. Youâd brought him back to where one of the air ships had crashed, only a ways away from it while not sitting in the wreckage.
âCause I could.â Your voice was a tell to how youâd become distracted by something on his face. Your hand came up to touch him, which paused for a moment when he hissed and bared his teeth at you. Just like before, you returned it, before it devolved into light laughter. You continued your visual mapping of his face and, especially because he didnât have much choice in the matter, Loâak, let you. Your fingertips traced over his eyebrows, the hair there that you lacked. It was a fascination, your mind locked onto it as you knew what that meant.
âYou are both..â You said, no malice in your tone, just simply curiosity.
âYesâŚI am.â Loâak was confused. What was your goal here? Why had you taken him if this was your goal? To touch him?
âWhy did you kidnap me? Why am I here?â He asked.
âMy people want you and the others, so I took you. They enjoy the chase, I didnât want to take that from them.â You were still completely occupied with the delight his eyebrows were bringing you.
He paused and watched you for a moment, letting his eyes dance over the black leather top you were wearing, multiple sets of different sizes wrapped around you tightly. The choker you were wearing had drop down sets of beads that came down in long loops across your shoulders and chest. Your legs, which were straddling his own, were partially covered with a thin red fabric with large circular rips.
âWhatâs your name?â
Your eyes shot up to meet his at the question and your pupils dilated, pushing the gold out more and more. You told him, and he repeated it under his breath before whispering his own to you. Your tail whipped and curled behind you as you pulled out a small blade.
âWoah-hey-â Loâak tried leaning back away from it but you held him in place.
You pointed it at him and said, âStay.â
Your body wrapped around him like you were hugging him. But your hands and the blade started to pull at his bindings, your hand was holding his wrists as you brought them in between you before you started retying them.
âYou donât need to do that-â He cut himself off when you gave him a look that said âare you kidding me?â Loâak scoffed a laugh at that, âYeah, that was a stretch.â
You pulled his tightly tied hands up to your face so you could inspect his fingers. Your pointer finger traced his pinkies, feeling the thinner finger between your own. Then your head snapped down to bite it, wanting to see if it was functioning and could feel pain.
âOw! Hey!â
You seemed to think it was the funniest thing as you rolled off his lap, laughing to yourself at how silly his fifth fingers were. Heâd never had this reaction to them before, someone laying on her back laughing like a baby at him purely in delight over his extra fingers.
âAre they useful?â You asked as you sat back in front of him, laughter subsiding but the glee on your face didnât. Your sets of sharper teeth than his own were on display, a scarier sight under other circumstances. You were a scarier sight under other circumstances. Your smiles were manic to say the least, like every emotion you felt with dialed up to a thirteen. And your eyes were huge. He could understand being afraid of you, but for him, it was hard to be when you were acting like a curious child.
âUm, yeah, they can be. For grabbing and stuff.â
âFascinatingâŚâ
The whoops and yelling of your people pulled both of your guys attention to the dense forest.
Varang emerged to see the two of you sat on the ground on the wreckage and she smiled wickedly. Loâakâs tail had started to wave behind him angrily as he heard his motherâs voice in his head. âStrong heart. Show no fear.â
âSempa, I see youâve found a pet. Wonderful.â
The terrifying woman stepped forward with her kuru slipping through her fingers when you hissed at her and grabbed Loâakâs body to pull him closer behind you. Everyone seemed shocked at this, even Varang for half a moment before she smirked at you.
âHeâs mine. I caught him, brought him here. I want his fate,â Your brain finally caught up with what youâd done and your head bowed down, âI askâŚplease, tsahik.â
âHmmâŚAlright, heâs yours,â The leader stepped forward towards the two of you and gripped your chin harshly between her claws, still smiling at you, âYou are blessed that I like you or Iâd cut your tongue out to feed to him.â
Your fangs gleamed in the fading sunlight as you smiled your best against her hard grip, âThank you, tsahik, thank you.â
âHmm, good. Now,â Varang let go of you and turned to Mariâska to grab the steel weapon in her hands, before presenting it to Loâak, âshow me how to make thunder.â
âI canât.â He said before his arms are grabbed and heâs yanked from the ground, onto his feet.
âShow me thunder!â
âI canât, no more ammo, no more thunder.â It was true, the clip was probably empty now since Spider had most likely grabbed it and used it after his disappearance.
âUgh, you are useless.â Before he could think, Varang hit him with the butt of the gun and everything went black.
~
âLoâak! Loâak! Wake up, brother!â
His eyes blinked blurrily as the sound of Kiriâs voice pulling him back to consciousness. Sitting up suddenly to pull his face out of the dirt, he saw his family, without his mother, and Quaritch tied up on the ground in the middle of the woods. The Mangkwan seemed to have moved camp from the wreckage of the air ships after knocking him out and capturing his family.
âOh, shitâŚwhen did they get you guys?â He complained seeing them all tied up, along with his father and his sworn enemy.
âA while ago. What happened to you?â Spider asked.
âOh, uh-â
Coming out of the dancing and hollering ash people, all circling a huge bonfire in the middle of them, was you. You smiled widely at him and crotched down in front of him.
âHi, Loâak.â
âHi..â The rest of them watched the interaction with confused looks and furrowed brows.
You placed something wrapped on the ground and arched your back to push it towards him further, âI gutted this for you.â
The leafs fell open to show a dead and gutted stingbat. His eyes glanced between you and the âgiftâ presented to him as you rocked back and forth just slightly on your knees. Your massive eyes stared at him expectantly as you waited for his reaction to your present.
âOhâŚthank you?â
Your face spilt open in a smile as you rushed forward and hugged him. He was so surprised by the action that he didnât even think to try grabbing any sort of weapon off of you before you pulled away and patted his crossed knees.
âWatch. Watch me!â
You practically skipped off towards the fire circle, jumping over the fire with ease as the Mangkwan people whooped and hollered for you. You pulled the concealed weapon that Loâak hadnât noticed at first, two chipped obsidian blades connected by a braided leather band. Your body moved fluidly, spinning the blades around and over your shoulders and hips. Your eyes stayed on him, no matter how many people crossed in front of your gaze. It was like watching a ikran mating dance, the meaning of which flew over Loâak head. His cheeks were flushed purple at your cheeky smile to when once you noticed that he was watching you as well.
âWhatâŚis happening right now?â Kiri whispered to the rest of them.
âI have no idea.â Spider answered, his eyes looking between you and Loâakâs expression.
âI do! If I didnât know any better, Iâd see that freaky girlâs got a hard on for your dipshit son.â Quaritch was practically giddy at the idea of more issues for Jake.
âWatch your language, asshole.â The aforementioned hissed as he used his foot to shove the marine over, only causing him to cackle harder.
You had said it before. That Loâak was yours. And that didnât sound like the worst thing right now.
~
So much had happened in the last few lunar cycles. The prisoners had escaped, after the sky man taught you and your people how to make thunder, something you marveled at with squeals of excitement. Despite everyoneâs best efforts, they disappeared into the water and they were gone. With some more scavenging of the wreckage and the bodies that were left, all of you headed back to your ikrans and flew home to your village at the center of the burnt and broken Home Tree. The following day, as you were sat on the floor of Varangâs yurt while you refilled her oils and herbs with what was found in the forest yesterday. Your tsahik was working behind you on carving a new mixing bowl out of a sun bleached skull cap. You were the only person allowed into her yurt like this as you were her tsakarem, her tsahik in training. You did as you were told and normally quiet when you did, she liked that. You were also honest with her in a subservient way. Today though, you were more quiet than usual.
âWhy are you sad? Stop that.â Varang asked, not looking up from her work as she did.
âI am not, tsahik.â
âDo not lie to me, child.â
You huffed a little, âI justâŚI miss my prisoner. I didnât get to even do anything to him.â You kept your words tight, not wanting her to read underneath your words at what you really felt. That would only cause her to pry into your mind with her powdery drugs and you really hated that. And if she figured out that you were wanting to mate with not only someone outside of the clan but Jake Sullyâs son, sheâd skin you and wear you as a cloak.
Thankfully, she didnât seem to catch on, âWe will get them back, donât worry.â She said simply.
The conversation came to an abrupt halt when you both heard the yelling from outside. Varang held her hand out to you to keep you inside as she stood up and went to see what was happening.
A few minutes later, after youâd become startled by the sound of a single clap of thunder, the opening to the yurt opened and in tucked the sky man, the older one with very short, unpleasing hair. Your lips curled up as you immediately reached for your things, a low warning growl bellowing in the back of your throat.
He let out a small chuckle and threw his hands up as a sign of safety, âNo need to be doing all that, Iâm friendly.â
You rolled your eyes and collected your belongings as Varang walked in behind him.
âYou are dismissed. You may came back later if you still have work to do.â
âYes, tsahik. Thank you.â As you brushed past the sky man, youâd let out a small hiss under your breath, a warning that if he tried anything, youâd have his throat for your collection.
A small disappointed pout graced your face as you left the yurt to make your way back to your own. Why did it have to be him? Why couldnât it had been yours? Your Loâak?
~
Loâak couldnât stop thinking about you, the Mangkwan girl that had kidnapped him and taken an interest of his extra fingers. His mind had been a whirlpool of thoughts since they had returned to their village. You had consumed his thoughts entirely. Your hair, the smell of your skin, your painted face, your piercing yellow eyes. Everything about you was utterly captivating and it was driving him crazy. He couldnât eat, he couldnât sleep. Unknowingly, he had gathered the supplies to make you a necklace, which was stupid considering the fact that he was never going to see you again and the two of you couldnât be together anyway. You were one of the Mangkwan people, the ash people and he was now apart of the reef people. These facts didnât stop him from fantasizing, innocently, as he pouting on a rock not far from shore but far enough away to not gain the attention of anybody.
âWhatâs got you so pouty, brother?â Kiri suddenly asked as she pulled herself out of the water and beached herself on his rock.
His hands were busy with the soaked, flexible bark strips as he braided and twisted them together. Heâd found a dark purple shell that he thought youâd like on one of his dives and decided to do something with it. Ridiculous.
Loâak shrugged, âNothing, justâŚthinking.â
âThinking about that ash girl?â
His head whipped to her as he saw the smug look on her face as her theory was proven correct by the purple dusting his cheeks, âYeah, I figured so. That for her?â Kiri pointed to the half finished gift in his hands.
âYeah.â
âItâs nice.â She commented.
He sighed and put it down for a moment as he rubbed his face, âItâs not as if I can do anything with it.â Loâak looked to his sister as she gently reached over and grabbed the band from his lap to seamlessly continue what he had been doing, âKiri, I donât know whatâs happening to me. She kidnapped me! And yet, I feel like I am drowning when I think about her, her chest gets hot and my throat gets tight like Iâm losing air. My mind gets fuzzy and what am I supposed to do? Itâs not like I can do anything about it.â
âWhys that?â
He scoffed a laugh at that as he gave her a dead look, âAre you serious? We are worlds away!â
âAnd at one point Mom and Dad were literally galaxies apart,â Kiri put down the project and turned to him, âLook, Iâm not saying it will be easy but it is possible, if you really want it to be. The ash people are just past the forest, on the other side of the mountains. Plus, she doesnât seem like someone to let go of something she wants very easily,â
He chuckled at that. It was true, in the short amount of time that heâd been with you, you seemed incredibly possessive of him, even to your own tsahik.
âIt is not over, brother. You will be able to give her your gift soon enough.â
âI hope so.â Despite his hope of seeing you, he knew that also meant facing Varang and your kuru cutting clan, which if that happened, it could mean the end of the reef clan. There was a story about this, wasnât there? A story that his father would tell from his home planet about a girl and a boy whose families hated each other despite them loving each other. How did that end again? Oh, yeah.
~
You did not like them. They were like tiny, little pink bug beneath your feet, and they did not like your smile. They ignored you or were frightened by you, not in a cowardly way like you enjoyed, in a way that spoken as if you were hard to look at, ugly. They were stupid to, with their tiny flat boxes pointed at Varang and your people. You couldnât understand their words, but their eyes said it all. That woman covered in steel and machinery looked at you as if your people were the vermin encroaching on their land, their home. Youâd never felt so angry about sky demons before, youâd never had any interactions with them and your people had their own struggles with survival that did not involve them, but now you understood how they gained their moniker. It made you angry how easily Quaritch had gotten Varang to agree to this, greed had overtaken her mind from the moment he taught her how to use his metal weapons. The day that he arrived to your village, heâd promised her as many thunder-bringing and fire-spitting weapons as she wanted if she and her people helped him bring Jake Sully, Toruk Makto, back to his people. She agreed and consummated their agreement. You hated it. But a plan had formed in your mind from the minute he said the name Jake Sully. Because wherever Jake Sully was, his family was, which meant Loâak would be there. You could take him again for yourself, to keep. That would make this miserable steel hell bearable.
Climbing out of the steel death trap that flew, your stomach turning at the feeling of not being in control of your own movements in the sky, your feet hit the sand for the first time. It squished and fanned in between your toes in a way that made you little out the smallest of squeals.
Varang had ordered you to stay at the back, to snipe from afar if anyone tried anything, so you did just that. Your bow pulled and tilted sideways over your arm as you stayed bent forward and close to the ground. The heels of your feet were positioned as close to the water as you could get without touching it. It frightened you, that small childlike idea of it touching you and your body melting like ash would, that your people had lived in it for so long that youâd become it.
You couldnât make out what everyone was saying over the sound of the death traps whirling and making wind, another design flaw, the amount of noise and disruption it creates. But you knew why you all were here. To take Jake Sully. You knew your tsahik would be irritable if she didnât get to kill someone with her new toy. You were talking about Quaritch or her thunder maker? You didnât even know yourself.
Before you could even think, a hand clasped around your mouth and an arm tightly wrapped around your arms to keep them there. Your yelling in protest was so muffled that nobody heard you. Something sharp jabbed into your side and your whole body started to go lax against your will. Your mind became fuzzy and the last thing you felt before everything went dark was the all encompassing feeling of water starting to surround your body as you were dragged backwards into the ocean.
~
The smell of embers and smoke filled your lungs, pulling you back to consciousness Your arms were bind behind your back, a quick tug told you before your eyes peeled open slowly. It was day now, the sun peering through the tight weaving of the mauri you were currently in. Your whole body lit up when you saw who was sat across from you. Loâak.
You immediately became giddy, laughing hysterically as you realized what had happened, âYou kidnapped me back! Hehe!â
You were too busy laughing with a wide smile to notice the purple flush on his face.
âYou like me! You kidnapped me because you like me!â
âSo what?â He said quietly as he pulled on the drawstring bag in his lap.
You preened at his words as you finally calmed down, the smug look on your face as you watched him toss something across the space between you two. It was a necklace, braided and beaded with bone carved pearls and a large purple shell in the middle. Your tail swished behind you and thumped against the ground as you glazed at it, pupils growing by the moment.
Loâak watched as you stood up, your arms twisting around and popping so that they were now in front of you, something he didnât know anyone could do. You bent to pick the necklace up off the floor as you walked across the large room until you reached him, plopping yourself down in his lap with your bind hands behind his head.
You smiled proudly at him as you nudged your flat nose against his and whispered, âYouâre mine?â
He nodded, his hands creeping their way around your waist, âYes. And youâre mine?â
âMmhmm.â Your kuru had a mind of its own as it slithered over your leg to join his between the two of you. His eyes dipped down to watch as it stopped, waiting for him to make the move.
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I want it wrapped around my neck, squeezing my face, and controlling my breath.
I want to lick the cool vibranium plates, not caring if the nicked edges cut my tongue and make me bleed.
I want him to use his inhuman strength to pin me down with it and do whatever he wants to me.
I want to come home to a dark house one night and see the moonlight reflecting off the silver and red or black and gold knowing heâs there, hiding in the shadows and thereâs nothing I can do to stop him from having his way with me.
pairing: alpha!steve rogers x omega!reader x alpha!bucky barnes
word count: 6.4k (this is rough, and i mean rough, guess. i wrote this on tumblr on my phone and it wouldnât copy and paste nicely, so i c&p roughly half para by para and then just doubled it)
cw: a/b/o au, au-typical power dynamics (not with steve and bucky, only talked about), swearing, brief mentions of sex/sexual feelings but no actual smut, fluff, cuddling, steve and bucky change reader while sheâs sleeping (nothing happens or is even mentioned, donât know if it matters to anyone??), a definite overuse of italics (and probably parenthesis)
You were the first Omega SHIELD sent out on field operations, aiming to tear down the claim that Omegas are weak.
The plan was to start with one Omega, you, then, as it proved that everyone responded well, SHIELD would start hiring more Omegas as field agents.
It was safe to say that thereâs a heavy burden on your shoulders. The fate of other Omegas futures is in your hands.
You went through dozens and dozens of tests and challenges to get your job, more than the average entry level Alpha at SHIELD. But still, even then, most Alphas questioned your presence, your worthiness.
Your team was all Alphas, aside from you. The overbearing Alpha scent was everywhere. It felt like you couldnât escape it, even taking your suppressants. But you managed. It was just another test, you told yourself, just one more thing to prove that you belong. That youâre strong enough for this job.
It took your team some time to open up to you, to accept you. Most of the Alphas thought you didnât belong, ordering you around like a mere servant instead of an equal. And when you bit back at their attitudes, they snapped, getting up in your face and expecting you to cower. And you wanted to, your instincts screamed to. But you held your ground, needing to prove that you can do this.
Usually, whichever Alpha got into a spitting match either you had to be restrained from attacking you- usually by Steve or Bucky.
You didnât know why they were the first to accept you into the team, but they did. Theyâd pull whoever it was back and tell them to cool off, then, lecture you about your stupid comments.
âYouâre begging for a fight you canât win.â Steve would say, giving you that disapproving look he was so good at.
Youâd roll your eyes and brush them off, unwilling to accept their help and attempted guidance.
But you couldnât get rid of them.
Since they were the first to be open to the presence of an Omega on the team, you got put into a car with them for missions- usually, smushed between the two.
And it was fine.
Theyâd try and talk with you, which was ignored or scoffed at. One time, Bucky dared to ask if you needed to help getting to the hospital floor of SHIELD when you got back to headquarters for a nasty cut youâd taken during the mission. You nearly bit his head off for thinking you were weak. He just laughed it off and played it off with that stupid smirk he always wore around you, the one that made you want to punch him in the face.
Or beg him to drag you back to your nest and fuck you until it was guaranteed you wouldnât be able to walk the next day. Until his scent completely masked your own, smelling only of him.
Heâd always laugh it off and say that youâre an anomaly of an Omega, always quick to the defensive, the first to challenge anyone who thought lower of you because of your status.
But this mission was⌠different, to say the least.
Everyone on the team felt it.
From the start, it was different. The whole team was involved, not just the small teams of two or three.
It made the hair on the back of your neck stand up. It was a sign, yelling at you to back down. To finally accept that you werenât cut out for the job, after all. But you were too stubborn to back down, you wouldnât even entertain the thought, as hardheaded as ever.
Halfway through it, everything flipped over on its side.
You were raiding an old HYDRA base. It was abandoned, they told you guys, no one has been there for years.
It wasnât.
There had been some secret tunnel or hidden passage way, whichever movie escape route worked best, that HYDRA agents had been using. It had the updated technology to hide their heat signatures, throwing off SHIELDS carbon dioxide sensors. It perfectly mimicked the abandonment you thought was there.
When the HYDRA agents finally made their claim, it rattled all of you. You were severely outmatched, it was three HYDRA agents for every one of you.
You stuck out like a sore thumb, noticeably shorter and smaller than the rest of your team. It made you a target.
Every turn of your head, every swing of your arm and kick of your leg, there was another one. Thats what it felt like. Theyâd only pull away from you once another one of your team members made a move at them.
It was nothing short of a miracle that you all made it out, battered and bruised, but alive.
The energy between the team was off. Everyone was slightly shellshocked by the unexpected attack, even more so at the sheer volume of it.
Youâd never been more thankful for Tony Stark than when he made self driving cars for SHIELD.
It was just you, Steve, and Bucky in the car. No nosey driver or worry of gossip at your state, your Omega instincts not taking kindly to the surprise.
Smashed between Steve and Bucky, you were staring ahead with slightly wide eyes. The feeling of your breath in your throat not going away. You were only being kept upright by the tight space between Steve and Buckyâs shoulders.
You couldnât care about looking tough right now, strained breaths racking through you.
Usually, youâd hide any fear or trepidation from your teammates, patiently waiting until you were alone in your room at SHIELD headquarters to let your feelings consume you.
Right now, you let shuddering breaths rack through you. Your hands wringing together anxiously in your lap.
The unexpected attack didnât sit well with your Omega instincts. They craved security and stability, the exact opposite of your job. HYDRA agents attacking so rapidly put you on edge, your body and mind begging for your nest at headquarters. To just curl up in the mass amount of blankets and pillows and sleep away the discomfort clawing at your throat.
You didnât think your internal struggle was that obvious. You were always pretty good at hiding it and assumed this time was like the rest.
It only became known to you when you smelt the change in the pheromones in the car.
You had been able to smell the effect the attack had on Steve and Bucky up until now. Now, you could tell they were trying to comfort you somewhat with a calmer scent in the enclosed space.
The on-edge feeling had dissipated and changed into a relaxing scent, meant to placate you.
You couldnât find the will to be upset with them for treating you like an upset, delicate Omega this time.
Instead, you slumped back in the back, dropping your head against the flattened part of the middle of the headrest. The angle was a little uncomfortable, twinging the muscles in your neck, but you couldnât find the care. You were not-so secretly embracing the this moment of weakness and care from them.
Slow, steady breaths left you as you tried to lower your racing heartbeat and calm your mind.
In for four seconds. Hold for four. Out for four. Hold. Over and over and over until your body couldnât physically be stressed out.
âYou okay, Omega?â Buckyâs quiet voice cuts through the thick air in the car, causing you to tense slightly before relaxing back into your spot.
He always called people by their status. The first time he called you âOmegaâ, you tore him a new one. Mouthing off about how he was degrading you for your status and diminishing all the work youâve put in for something uncontrollable. Buckyâs cheeks flushed when you lectured him, not expecting your passionate response and not meaning to offend you. The way he apologized and explained himself to you was so un-Alpha-like you nearly stumbled back.
âMâso sorry, Om- ⌠I-I didnât meant to offend you. I swear! I donât even realize it sometimes. I do it to everyone, no matter their status. I know you probably wonât believe that- but I swear, itâs true!â
Once you saw that he really did call everyone by their status, it didnât bother you. He called people by their status in place of their name or a term of endearmentâ only breaking the norm to call Steve âpunkâ. Never once had it come across as derogatory or disrespectful.
You faintly nodded in response to his question, not trusting your shaken state to be able to form a solid response.
Their gaze was heavy on you, you could feel the intense way they looked at you. You knew they were concerned, this was probably the worst theyâd ever seen you.
After a few moments of silence, their gazes still trained on you, Steve broke the silence.
âYou can be affected by that. You donât have to hide it from us. Weâre your⌠team.â
The hesitance wasnât missed by you. You knew the questionable relationship between you three. The longing gazes on all sides, the touches that last for a moment too long, the small gifts theyâd you leave anonymously. It was just a breath away from a courtship, a touch away from a mating bond.
You also knew that they could easily read your emotions at all times. Theyâd only pretend they couldnât for your benefit. (It became obvious when a plate of your favorite food was left in front of your door after a rather rough mission.)
âIâm fine.â You said, snapping at them harsher than you really meant you. You were just trying to hold on to your composure, fighting for your sense of stability. Quietly, you added, ââŚSorry.â
Even if you were a rather insolent Omega, you still knew how to be respectful. You only get upset with people when they were purposefully being rude to you or others.
They were just trying to help you.
âSorry.â You repeated, forcing a slow breath to leave you.
Steve shifted in his seat, twisting his torso to give you more room in a way that has to be uncomfortable for him. âThank you.â
You knew it was his Alpha ego that made him thank you. That part of him craved respect and obedience, especially from an Omega.
You slid down in your seat, resting your head more comfortably. A slow breath left you.
A weak hum leaves you as finally give in and let yourself get comfortable.
The GPS monitor in the car showed you still had roughly four hours and why strain yourself for that much longer?
You let yourself shift in the seat, your head tilting onto Buckyâs shoulder. It wasnât an intentional move, but you also didnât try to stop yourself or pull away. Buckyâs shoulder tensed under head as you rubbed your head against his shoulder to get comfortable.
It was the clearest sign of affection they ever got from you, the closest reciprocation of their advancements on you.
Buckyâs arm quickly relaxed under you, yet stayed unmoving. A small breath slips past your lips as you close your eyes.
The cramped car still felt thick with their calming pheromones as the time passed. You suck in a deep breath, letting them do their job and calm you.
Steveâs hand gently rested on your shoulder, digging his thumb into the muscle softly. âSleep, Omega. Youâre safe.â His voice was just as gentle as his hand rubbing your shoulder.
Steve didnât call people by their status, like Bucky, his usage of it was more endearing. He was using it to remind you that even though youâre stronger and very capable of keeping up with them, you were still different. Genetically speaking. Your instincts and emotions craved stability and protection- everything this mission was not.
And he knew that you needed to let yourself relax to deal with it. If you kept yourself in a contact state of trying to be strong, youâd only make yourself worse. Youâd turn into the dependent Omega you were trying so hard not to be, running yourself to the ground that you had no energy left to be the person you wanted to be.
Youâd have to let yourself be weak so you could gain the strength to be strong. Steve knew that sometimes you needed to be reminded of that fact, you needed that environment provided for you. You needed to be encouraged to take advantage of it.
To take advantage of them and the safe space they consistently offered you. To take advantage of them.
The low hum that left you was the only sign of acknowledgment you gave them, too tired to try and speakâ your throat still felt tight with anxiety that you didnât even know if you could speak right now without croaking pathetically.
You could hear them shift slightly, moving just enough to get more comfortable without jostling you too much.
Buckyâs hand awkwardly rested on your thigh, your head on that shoulder limiting his mobility. He patted your leg lightly before squeezing and rubbing your thigh over your uniform.
Two soft clicks broke the serenity you felt, followed the sound of metal sliding across metal.
With a disgruntled sound, you picked your head up from Buckyâs shoulder to see Steve pulling the headrest out from the seat, tossing it into the empty passenger seat of the car.
âShh, what did I just say?â He said gently, raising his brows at you, âSleep. Iâm just getting comfortable.â
The stress made you too tired to try and fight with him, not wanting to willing give into his direct orders in a domestic situation. Instead, another small grunt left you as you dropped your head back to Buckyâs shoulder, wriggling your arm under his and pulling it into your chest like youâre cuddling the limb.
Again, he tensed for a spilt second before relaxing under you.
You could practically hear the look they share, their scents jumping away from the comforting one that was slowly lulling you to sleep to ones of surprise and excitement.
Before you grumbled your discontent with their change again, Steveâs fingers slowly work their way onto your scalp, massaging the area with a gentle pressure that made your head fuzzy.
The sound you were forcing out to show your upset morphed into one of contentment, a soft hum-like moan leaving you.
âJerk.â You breathe out, eyes slipping closed as his fingers keep massaging your head. The words lack any true venom and the usual fire that you reserved for Alphas trying to bully their way through you.
âQuiet.â Steve said. He was trying to sound stern but the low chuckle that left him a moment later contradicted the attempt.
The car went quiet for a moment again, save for the soft purr of the engine before Steve continues, âThe carâs locked and bulletproof. No oneâs getting in. Youâre safe in here, just keep using Buck as a pillow and sleep. Weâll wake you when we get back to the Tower, Omega.â
The slow, thoughtful words sunk into your consciousness, giving you the comfort you needed. Repeating your safety seemed to quell the panicked Omega instincts swirling around your head.
You could feel your mind slowly to a stop as your breathing slows, falling into that state of semi-consciousness right before sleep.
âGood Omega.â Bucky whispered to you as your body goes heavy against his side, a low hum leaving you in response that fades away.
Youâre out for the rest of the car ride. The car pulling into the compound, the engine coming to a stop doesnât jar you. Your body is completely wiped out, collapsed between the safety of Bucky and Steve.
Even if there was nothing official between the three of you, there was some sort of bond. It was quiet and comforting in the way that silently crept into their actions, dropping things off in your room (gifts, it was always small gifts of things that reminded them of you or things you had talked about), and, most especially, the way they never expected anything in return.
Did they want something in return? Yes. Of course they did, but they knew how head strong and stubborn you were. Youâd never accept their affections if they tried to force you to. Slowly, youâd make your way to them like a feral stray, building rapport and trust with them.
Maybe that was why you didnât wake when Steve got out of the car and slowly pulled your sleeping form off of Bucky. Your instincts recognizing him and his scent as some sort of safe haven, not sensing a need to disturb your much needed rest.
And maybe that budding bond between you three was why you stay knocked out when Bucky helped Steve maneuver your body so weâre were hugging him like a koala so he could carry you easier. Your legs wrapped around his waist as your arms were around his middle, head resting against his shoulder.
âI got her, I got her.â Steve said softly, giving Bucky a somewhat territorial look as he kept nitpicking the way Steve was holding you. âIâm not gonna drop her. Sheâs not gonna fall, Buck.â
Bucky simply glared at him and used all his will to not bare his teeth and growl at Steve.
Even if they were the ones pursuing you together, it was still abnormal for two Alphas to try and be with one Omega, their possessive instincts quick to fight for what they thought of as theirs.
Bucky grit his teeth and hissed out, âI didnât say you were gonna drop her, punk. Mâjust trying to make sure sheâs comfortable against your stupid chest.â
Steve was just about to grumble something sarcastic back to him as you shifted, burying your head into Steveâs neck, mumbling breathily.
âShut up. Shut⌠up.â
The two headstrong Alphas shared a dumbfounded look at your movementâ your smartass comments they were used to, but you willing moving closer to Steveâs scent gland, however unconscious it was, was incredibly new.
âSorry, Omega.â Bucky said, his rough immediately melting to something soft and docile as he moved behind Steve to brush hair away from your face.
He looked to you for another smart comment, but you were already sound asleep again, breathing heavily against Steve.
âSheâs out.â Bucky muttered, his fingers tucking hair behind your ear, still pressed against Steve, âTired little Omega.â
Steve adjusted his grip on you, getting his hands more securely under your thighs. âMâgonna take herââ
âIs she okay?â
Natashaâs raspy voice suddenly cuts Steve off as she slowly makes her way towards them. Her car was parked right behind theirs, Bruce getting out of the car as well.
The other two Avengerâs cars were pulling up into the driveway and Bucky and Steve knew they only had a few moments before everyone would be up here.
They didnât want to run the risk of them seeing you slumped like this. Steve and Bucky knew better than anyone how protective you were of your image, theyâd be eaten up inside if they were at fault for you being seen as weaker because of this stupid mission. However, they were more worried about Tony, or any of the Avengers, but mainly him and his smart mouth, waking you up and disturbing your peaceâ especially because they didnât know when youâd let them get this close again.
âSheâs fine. Just tired.â Steve says with a tight voice.
It was obvious to anyone with eyes and a nose how on edge he was, Bucky too.
Why did Nat, another Alpha, need to know if you were okay? You were theirâs. Theirâs! It didnât matter if it was still unofficial, everyone knew it already.
Bucky takes a half step closer to Steve as the blond adjusts you, pulling you impossibly closer to his chest in an attempt to hide you from Natâsâ and now Bruceâsâ prying eyes.
âYouâ You should take her up to the hospital. That amount of stress in her system canât be good for her, let alone any Omega.â Bruce says, pointing at you in Steveâs arms with a tentative finger. His voice was soft and uncertain, knowing how quickly Bucky could react if he felt challenged. âThe raise in the amount of cortisol and adrenaline in her system could alter the equilibrium of chemicals in her and result inââ
âSheâs fine.â Bucky snapped, glaring at Bruce.
Natâs brows shot up as Bruce took a step back.
Bruce may have been a Beta, but the Hulk provided him with a unique exception, elevating him above most Alphas.
Nat took a half step forward, mimicking Bucky, and put her hands out in a calming manner.
âHey, hey. He didnât mean anything by it.â She said coolly, giving Bucky a look while trying to defuse the situation. âHeâs just trying to help her, just like you. Weâre all a team. No one wants your girl, Barnes.â
âI didnât sayââ Bucky snapped, getting cut off by Steve.
âBuck.â
Itâs short and quick with enough force to remind Bucky of whatâs more important hereâ you.
Buckyâs head shot over to look at Steve, a fiery look in his eyes that was ready to lunge at the next person who tried to tell him what to do with you.
Raising his brows again, Steve gives Bucky a soft yet stern look, silently chastising him in that quiet way theyâve shared since they were kids.
Steveâs gaze drifts back to Nat and Bruce, then behind them, seeing Tony and the others making their way out of the cars and towards them.
âWeâre going to take her up.â Steve said shortly. He looked back to Bucky before nodding towards the complex.
Without even waiting for a response, the two Alphas started making their way up the long drive way.
As they walk away, Tonyâs sarcastic voice rings out with that same dry sarcasm as normal,
âGoing to mate with your girl?â
You had been given a room in a different wing than the rest of the team.
It was a safety measure, really, but you preferred it.
If your heat were to randomly start, not only would you be a mess and indisposed, but the scent of that lingering in the same area as the top group of Alphas in the world lived could cause some⌠issues, to put it lightly.
Or, if one of there ruts were to do the same.
Sure, Tony was mated with Pepper and Bruce was technically a Beta, but the rest of them were unmated. And even though they were sworn to protect and help, they were still subjected to their chemical reactions.
There was no telling what could happen.
It was safer that way.
You argued at first, seeing it as another thing that was dictated by your status. Hissed words and wild threats thrown dangerously from you for the first months of joining the team were all they heard from you.
Until, you realized how much you actually liked being removed from them.
You werenât subjected to the reeking scent of Alpha all the time. Your door could stay open all night to help with air flow in the sticky summer months. The volume of your music and TV was never a questionâ you had no neighbors to worry about!
Along with the added bonus of during your heat, you had no worry about being too loud or too obscene.
Steve and Bucky had been the only two on the team to actually go to your room, but never inside.
Theyâd only ever drop off meals and small trinkets at your door, like cats bringing things back to its owner to thank them and show their love.
With Steve still cradling your slumped form against his chest, him and Bucky share a look before tentatively entering your room.
It felt wrong. Forbidden.
This was your space, untouched by anyone other than you.
Their eyes greedily raked over your room, absorbing everything small detail and item they could see like dry sponges thirsting for water.
Your room was large, bigger than both of theirs. Your closet and bathroom doors were both cracked, allowing a small glimpse into the tidy spaces. A book shelf and desk were tucked into one corner of the room, loaded with books, files (presumably mission reports), and the odd object. The small, warm toned lamp was on, providing a soft glow throughout the room.
However, what really drew their attention in was tucked in the corner, a bed that had to be bigger than a king, fluffed up and overflowing with blankets, comforters, pillows, and clothes.
A nest. Your nest.
Bucky groaned lowly, eyes hungrily taking in the sight.
âI donât know if Iâm strong enough to do this, Steve.â He mumbled, unable to look away.
Bucky felt like he was staring at the core of you. This was the place that meant the most to you. You had made this space, carefully curated and tweaked until you deemed it as it was now. It was the place youâd curl up in every night, the spot you lay in to decompress, feeling safest there.
Where youâd go during your heat.
âJustâ donât.â Steve said slowly, clearly struggling with the same issue. âWeâre doing this for her, Bucky. Not us.â
âYeah⌠yeah. No, I know that. I do. But, Jesusâ youâre telling me this isnât driving you crazy, punk?â Bucky asked, taking a half step towards your bed, motioning to it.
Steve adjusted you again, your tactical gear scraping against his chin. He sent Bucky a stern look, one that he usually reserved for another Alpha that tried to get too pushy with you.
âBucky.â
Bucky dragged eyes away from your nest to Steve like it physically pained him to do so. âI know.â
âUh-huh. Go make yourself useful and grab pajamas for her.â Steve said, taking calculated steps to your nest. He extracted you from around his neck and waist like you were a delicate thing he didnât want to ruin with his beastly touch, setting you on the edge of your bed.
Bucky moved to your closet without hesitation and paused suddenly.
âSteveâŚâ
âI swear to god, Bucky, if you say one more thingââ
âSteve.â He said more forcefully.
Steveâs head snapped over to Bucky, looking at what he was seeing.
It was your closet, obviously, but it was specifically what was in your closet that was capturing Buckyâs attention.
Mixed within your own mess of clothes, there was a small cubby that was stuffed full of what was obviously menâs clothes. T-shirts, sweatshirts, shorts, pants, a red Henley that look suspiciously like the one Bucky had been missing.
The room froze between them as they stared at your closet. Steveâs head tilted to the side slightly as Bucky took another step in, hesitantly reaching out to pull the top piece.
He held it out to show Steve.
A stretched plain white tee with a large hole around the left side of the collar.
âThis isââ
âMine.â Steve growled, finishing Buckyâs sentence. His gaze turns back to your sleeping form in the edge of your bed, legs hanging off as you lay peacefully on your back.
âYouââ
âLost it. Supposedly.â
âYeahâŚâ
A moment passes between them, a growing sense of excitement with it.
Maybe that werenât as far away from earning your affections as they had thought. You had a whole stash of their clothes! No normal Omega hordes Alphas clothes without reason. And you had theirs, squirreling it away and letting them think theyâd lost clothes for who knows how long! That had to mean something.
Bucky quietly padded back over by Steve, now holding a pair of navy shorts with the t-shirt.
After another look between them, they carefully, and respectfully, changed you out of your tactile gear and into the comfy clothing. Bucky tossed the worn materials onto your bathroom floor, deeming it an issue for tomorrow.
With movements as precise and as strategized for handling a bomb about to go off, Steve maneuvered you to the center of your nest.
Immediately, you curled into the plush surface, instincts recognizing the space you were in. A soft puff of air left you as your tense frame melted into the covers.
âAlright,â Steve said after a brief moment of staring at you, âWe should⌠leave.â
Bucky hummed reluctantly, his eyes still stuck on you.
âYeahâŚâ
But neither one of them dared to move.
The air in the room was calm, a slow and intimate environment that you clearly went through painstaking measures to achieve.
The lightâs soft glow over you made you look like a goddess to them. Your hair splayed around your head delicately and your breathing slow and steady.
Steve and Bucky werenât ready to leave yet. They wanted to stay. Forever, if you let them.
Not only were they not ready to leave your space, they didnât want to leave your scent.
Usually, your scent attracts them. It acts as a driving force, constantly pulling them into your orbit and never quite leaving. The delicious smell is even stronger in here, concentrated and alluring. Itâs thicker and more captivating, nearly making them salivate.
Bucky swallowed thickly, the wet sound breaking the silence, hit fists tight at his sides.
âLetâs⌠letâs go.â Steve whispered, taking a half step back.
Bucky copied him and they made their way to the door, dragging themselves away.
It wouldnât be right to stand here and stare at you sleep like creepsâ even if thatâs exactly what they had been doing. They were trying to win you over the correct way, with small gifts and patience, waiting for you to feel comfortable enough with them (or to flat out reject them, but you hadnât yet so they had hope).
Right as Buckyâs hand twisted the door knob, a sound left you.
A whine.
Both of them tensed, turning back to you quickly with worried expressions.
They thought youâd be having some kind of nightmareâ or maybe you had been injured on the mission and had found some way to hide it from them for so long.
God, how could they have missed that you were⌠not hurt?
You werenât hurt.
You were fine, lying there exactly as they had left youâ eyes closed and soundly sleeping.
Another saddened sound leaves you.
Why were you whining?
You werenât hurt, or having a nightmare.
Bucky looked at Steve, his face fallen into a look of pure concern and panic. If you were hurt and they couldnât figure what was upsetting you, he couldnât fix it.
Bucky didnât know what he was supposed to do if he couldnât fix it for you. Thatâs what he was good atâ fixing things. Whether it was with tools or his fists, he made things better.
Steve moved back to the foot of your bed quietly, padding closer almost soundlessly. His hand carefully reached out and ghosted over your calf, not putting enough pressure to scare you awake.
âHeyâŚâ He breathed out, hand putting the slightest amount more pressure on you, âWhatâs wrong?â
You only whined again. It was this pained, whimpering sound that made you sound like an kicked puppy to them.
Bucky stood off the side, still wrapped up in his worry for you. He inhaled quickly and walked next to Steve.
âOmega.â He said, slightly more forcefully than Steve.
That caused you to stir, eyelids fluttering, but still sleeping.
You whined again before your lips part and you breathed out one word,
âStayâŚâ
For what felt like the umpteenth time that night, they both froze.
âYou want us to stay?â Steve asked gently, running his hand over your leg again.
âMhm⌠stay.â You mumble.
Bucky swallowed again, already moving to toe off his shoes, ready to climb into your bed with you and sleep the whole night away wrapped in you and your scent.
âYou sure, sweetie?â Steve asked again, tapping the back of your thigh when you donât respond. âYou want us to stay?â
You nuzzled into the pillows, your leg shifting when Steve taps you, easily responding to his presence and touch.
âStay.â
Your words, or just word, seemed to be enough convincing for Steve, who followed in suit of Bucky, starting to strip out of his grimy mission suit.
By this point, Bucky has already pulled all of his tactile gear off, stripped into just a tee and his boxers. His clothes created a messy pile on your otherwise pristine floor.
You were laying on your side in the center of the bed, Bucky crawled into the space in front of you and Steve behind. It took a few moments to get settled, Bucky and Steve quietly bickering about the positioning for maximum comfort.
And with all of your legs a tangled mess, one of Steveâs arms wriggled under your head to act as a pillow and the other layer over your side and his fingers dug into the space between yours and Buckyâs bodies. Bucky nuzzled his face into the space under your chin, precariously close to the tops of your breasts, his vibranium arm draped over your waist, metal fingers digging into the meat of Steveâs hip.
You seemed to melt into the space between them, quiet, content, and placid in way they had never seen you before. The snappy and defensive Omega that they had gotten used to (and definitely attracted to) melted into a soft sleeping thing between them, showing them another version of you that they already loved.
Steveâs hand slowly rubbed up and down your stomach, the moment restrained between yours and Buckyâs stomachs.
It didnât take long for Steve and Bucky to hear the call sleep reaching for them, eyes drooping and mindâs slowing down.
But what really did them in was the soft, subtle purr that left you.
You slept for hours before stirring, woken from your mind tormenting you with memories of your chaotic mission.
Your eyes snapped open with a quiet gasp, dazed and confused about where you were for a moment. It took a few quick breaths and furious blinking for your eyes to adjust to the darkness in your room for you to realize where you were.
Then, you were confused about the added and unusual weight on and around you.
You picked your head up by only a couple inches before you realized Buckyâs head was buried in your chest. Soft, warm breaths puffed from his lips, fanning across your chest.
With your eyes tracking down his body and following his metal arm across your hip, you realized Steve was behind you too, his arm under your head and the other holding onto your stomach.
You shifted slightly between them, realizing your urgent need to pee.
When was the last time you went to the bathroom? More importantly, what time was it?
You pulled an arm out from between them are started extracting their arms from off of you when Steve grunts lowly behind you, his gravely voice breaking the silent night. His arm tightened around you, muscles flexing to keep you in place.
âHnghâ why are you awake? Go back to bed.â
âI have to piss, Steve,â You grumbled back to him, moving Buckyâs arm off of you and into the brunetteâs side, âLet me up.â
Steve listened and rolled over onto his back, allowing you barely any more room, but enough to wriggle free from them.
Stumbling into the bathroom, you tripped and almost fell over your mission gear. A confused grunt left you as you rub your eyes, clicking the door shut and flicking the light on.
After doing your business and washing your hands, you splashed cool water over your face. You scratched at some of the dried grime on your skin, blunt nails scraping over the delicate expanse of your throat as rivulets of water streamed down your skin.
Your eyes trailed down and suddenly clicked in your head that someone changed you out of your Avengers issued uniform.
Obviouslyâ it was Steve and Bucky.
You knew theyâd never let anyone get close enough to you after you dropped unconscious like that on them. Youâre not even surprised they stayed in your roomâ your nest, though? A little surprised.
With the light flicked back off, you left the bathroom and made you way back to the bed.
Steve was now sitting up, hands planted just behind him as he clearly waited for you to return. He seemed more awake now.
Bucky had taken the chance to roll over onto his back, still dead asleep in your nest.
âCâmere.â Steve grunted, you were just able to see him nod towards the bed in the darkness of the room.
You didnât hesitate to crawl right back into your bed, slotting yourself between them again.
Steve hummed contentedly as your weight dipped the bed again before he reached over to manhandle you, positioning you how he wanted.
And you let him.
You didnât feel like fighting back against him. There was no innate urge to snap at him and tell him that youâre not some toy for him to play with or a doll for him to adjust to fit his narrative of you. For some reason, you were content to let him roll you over and lay on you. Whether it was because you were too tired to fight back or because you just didnât want to, you didnât knowâ definitely because you didnât want to, but Steve wasnât going to know that any time soon.
He pushed you over so your cheek was against Buckyâs clothed chest, tucked between his arm and side. You threw your leg over Buckyâs and wrapped your arm around his middle as Steve pressed himself against your back, his face now nestled into the back of your neck. His warm hand ran up and down your hip, digging his fingers into the flesh every few drags.
âGood. Now, back to sleep.â He mumbled, pressing a kiss to the back of your neck.
Even if you were still half-asleep, you didnât have enough control over yourself to stop the shudder the ran through you, a warm feeling running down your spine.
Steve noticed, he always did. Whether it was because he was a Super Solider or because he was an Alpha, he always noted every little shift your body language, knowing how felt about something before you consciously did.
Though, he apparently chose not to comment on it for now, letting your ego remain intact.
Thankfully was more like it.
Instead, he just said, âWe still have a few more hours.â
A small hum of agreement left you as you rubbed your cheek into Buckyâs shirt, taking a fists worth of the worn material.
You were choosing to ignore the implications this had on your relationship with them until morning. For now, like Steve said, you could sleep for a few more hours.
a/n: alright, first off, hiii. this is my first official post on tumblr. i have written fanfic before on wattpad and posted it, but never on here. i started this like DURING covid and never finished bc i fell out of tumblr and recently ârediscoveredâ the magic and serotonin that this app gives me! so, i re-read the short amount and had written and decided to finish this before i try anything else! thatâs why thereâs a shift in writing style (i notice it at least). sorry, for the rambling, iâm just really excited bc i love this idea and have never really written fluff for three characters before (sorry if some parts are weird!) and really like this! lmk if you like it (or what you hate so i can improve!) <33