⋆˙⟡ crush ⌇ ⋆˙⟡ 27 ⌇ ⋆˙⟡ she/her ⌇ ⋆˙⟡ anime blog
welcome to my neteyam centric blog. ❤︎
⋆ ࣪ ౿ m.list ⌇⋆ ࣪ ౿ byf ⌇
© paskalinn 2026 : do NOT copy, translate, repost/claim my works as your own or feed ANY of it to ai. ❤︎
occasionally subtle

★
YOU ARE THE REASON

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@paskalinn
⋆˙⟡ crush ⌇ ⋆˙⟡ 27 ⌇ ⋆˙⟡ she/her ⌇ ⋆˙⟡ anime blog
welcome to my neteyam centric blog. ❤︎
⋆ ࣪ ౿ m.list ⌇⋆ ࣪ ౿ byf ⌇
© paskalinn 2026 : do NOT copy, translate, repost/claim my works as your own or feed ANY of it to ai. ❤︎

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
𑁍ࠬܓ neteyam’s records.
𑁍ࠬܓ dad! neteyam m.list
❤︎ short n’ sweet — / /
☼ juicy fruit ( nsfw, fluff )
⟡ ──── it’s sinful, the way your mate eats fruit.
☼ mighty warrior ( sfw, fluff, humor, slice of life )
⟡ ──── neteyam does not tolerate disrespect towards you.
☼ lovely dreamer ( sfw, fluff, lil bit of humor, slice of life )
⟡ ──── neteyam looks adorable when he sleeps.
☼ teach me ( suggestive, fluff, humor ) ⟡ ─ part two ( the nsfw aftermath )
⟡ ──── neteyam teaches you english and you surprise him by learning a new phrase from lo’ak.
☼ super sonic ( fluff, humor, slice of life )
⟡ ──── something about your mate looks different. when you figure out what it is— and steal it, he chases you through the forest.
☼ shattered ( nsfw, fluff, a bit of humor)
⟡ ──── neteyam who knows you can’t have sex before you’re properly considered mates— surely dry humping doesn’t count though, right?
❤︎ one shots — / /
☼ love me harder ( nsfw, fluff, humor ) wc : 2.7k
⟡ ──── when neteyam has a stressful day, you take him for a ride. on his ikran, of course.
❤︎ series — / /
☼ what we fight for ⟡ ──── click link for full summary & tags ! ❤︎
home button ⟡
☽ ⋆ ⋅ ──── mini me.
⟡ 𑁍ࠬܓ your son is a carbon copy of neteyam.
☼ fem! na’vi reader, dad! neteyam, sfw, slice of life vibes, so much fluff, humor, ft. unc lo’ak.
⟡ anyone else need a little dad! neteyam in their life? just me?
⟡ m.list
In the kelutral, Lo’ak holds up his six month old nephew, Siay.
He tilts his head and squints like he’s trying to solve a puzzle. Wide eyes flicker toward you, studying your face— then dart to Neteyam, scanning his facial features. Neither of you notice his staring, and his attention eventually returns to his nephew.
Lo’ak presses his lips together, smothering a laugh with a cough as he cuddles a dozing Siay close to his chest. He lets out a low whistle.
“Wow,” he says, reclining against a wall.
Your hands pause where they’d been re-tightening the knot on your hammock, looking to Lo’ak in alarm. “What is it?” The task is abandoned as you stride over. “Is the baby alright?”
“He’s fine,” Lo’ak insists. He turns Siay around until his back is supported on his chest, forearm propping up his bottom. “See?”
You place your hands on your hips, tail swishing in annoyance. “Then why did you say that?”
Neteyam wanders over, confusion splayed across his face. He stands close enough that your arms touch.
Lo’ak giggles, squishing Siay’s cheeks between his fingers. “Bad news, tsmuke. Siay truly is an exact copy of my skxawng brother.” He strains his neck slightly to see the baby’s face, who has opened his bright eyes and is looking around. “He is less ugly, though.”
“Lo’ak,” Neteyam chides, ears flattening. He frowns when you laugh and glares at his brother. “My son is not ugly.”
“He isn’t. You are.”
“Take a look at yourself, baby brother. If I am ugly, you are ugly.”
You grab Neteyam’s elbow. Amusement colors your voice as you say, “Enough, ma Neteyam.” Smiling down at Lo’ak, you hold out your arms. “Give me my son, skxawng.”
He grins and rises to his feet, handing over the squirming baby. “I feel bad you have to live with my brother. At least Siay is cute.”
Neteyam chases Lo’ak out of sight, their playful fighting and laughter warming your heart. You cradle Siay in your arms, that same rush of affection filling your chest and popping like an overfilled water balloon as you run a gentle finger down the length of your son’s nose.
Neteyam’s nose.
He giggles and coos, four chubby fingers reaching for your hair. Adorable yellow eyes watching you in awe. You give Siay your finger to play with and lock eyes with Neteyam as he returns. His braids are messy, but he looks happy.
“It is a shame, ma Neteyam.”
Neteyam stops in front of you, ears twitching. “What is a shame, ma sevin?” His face lights up when Siay reaches for him. Neteyam accepts his son with ease, kissing his forehead and mimicking the position Lo’ak held him in earlier— back to chest.
Eywa, Lo’ak was right. You can barely tell them apart.
It means everything.
You cross your arms, heart beating with a love so strong it threatens to knock you off your feet. “It is quite a shame that I carried our son in my womb for so many moons only for him to resemble you exactly.”
☼ tsmuke : sister
☼ skxawng : fool, moron
☼ sevin : pretty
guys… i need to make more friends on this blog
· · · ★ 𝐑𝐄𝐈-𝐃𝐈𝐎 𝐅𝐑𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐈𝐄𝐒 : 𝐀 𝐋𝐘𝐑𝐈𝐂-𝐁𝐀𝐒𝐄𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐁
status: open ! ✩ slots available: 36 ✩ masterlist
WHAT IS REI-DIO FREQUENCIES?
rei-dio frequencies is an 18+ all-inclusive collab around hand picked lyrics as prompts! it’s using music from my personal library as baseline inspiration for anything creative.
AUDIENCE PARTICIPATION:
this collab is not mutual exclusive and is open to anyone! the only stipulation is you must be 18+ to participate.
sfw, nsfw and dark content are welcome, as well as x reader, OC, character x character and/or selfships.
all content is accepted: fics, moodboards, drabbles, headcanons, smaus, art, whatever strikes your fancy!
the collab is open until June 1st, 2026 or when all the options are taken — there is no deadline to post content by.
HOW TO JOIN:
send me an ask with the following!
the lyric of your choice, type of media (fic/moodboard/etc.), fandom & character/s or selfship name and preferred blog name to be tagged in the masterlist.
TRACK LIST:
select only one lyric when submitting for a slot! I will message you if said lyric is already claimed and a new one is needed to be chosen. this list will be updated as options are taken. :)

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
rb this with an album that has no skips for you and you’d listen on repeat from time to time 🎤
𑁍ࠬܓsummary 𓈓 at nine years old, neteyam is your friend. his presence has become as natural as breathing. he’ll choose you— he’ll always choose you, it’s guaranteed…right?
✶ warnings 𓈓 fem! na’vi reader, reader is omatikaya, neteyam and reader 9 here, first real taste of hurt/comfort between them, playful banter, the experience as a kid when you feel like the world is ending over something small— then get over it just as quickly. yeah.
| wc 𓈓 1.9k |
☽ ⋆ ⋅ ──── main m.list ☽ ⋆ ⋅ ──── wwff m.list
“I bet I can beat you.”
The fish you’d been eyeing— a brightly colored, plump creature, disappears into the darkest part of the water. The swift movement ripples the surface. Your ears twitch, bow lowering as the tension in the string eases, going limp.
Lo’ak stands directly to your side, too close, radiating a smugness only he could possess. You let out a sharp puff of air through your nose, eyes rolling. “Yeah right— You could not hit the kelutral if you tried!”
A few feet further down the stream, a soft whistle follows the path of Neteyam’s arrow as it soars through the air. It slices the water’s surface, spearing its intended target.
Lo’ak frowns. “I can!” He insists. He crosses his arms with jerky motions, braids swaying from the force.
“What if you miss and stab your eye out?”
“I will not—”
“Then he will run for hours when he gets in trouble with dad,” Neteyam chimes in.
You twist to find Neteyam grinning, nose scrunching as he laughs to himself at the image. He walks closer, joining the makeshift triangle the three of you have formed, and your body follows his lead.
Lo’ak rolls his eyes, a slight sheen of sweat casting across his forehead under the scorching sun. “That will not happen Neteyam… I have better aim than you!” His tail gives an irritated flick as he speaks.
“Since when, little brother? Just last week you sliced your finger open on the bow string— the string!”
You laugh, covering your mouth.
“Stop it Neteyam!” Lo’ak cries in outrage, eyes widening at your laughter. Suddenly, he shoves Neteyam’s chest with as much force as he can muster.
Neteyam doesn’t budge.
Lo’ak bares his teeth a little, hissing at Neteyam when the only reaction he receives is a patronizing pat on the head. He seethes, ears pinning to his skull.”
“Let us make a deal then,” you interject, trying to prevent the inevitable murder you’re about to witness.
Both boys whip their heads toward you.
“Yeah?” Lo’ak asks excitedly, his entire body perking up— fury forgotten. “What kind?”
“If I win— you weave my share of baskets for a week. I will weave yours if you win.” You ignore Neteyam’s snort of laughter, leaning closer to Lo’ak. “Deal?”
“Deal.”
You shake hands to seal it.
☽ ⋆ ⋅ ──── late night fever
𑁍ࠬܓbaby fever hits neteyam— and hell yeah he’s gonna fuck you until it sticks.
☽ fem! na’vi reader, nsfw as fuck, baby fever! neteyam, being folded in half like a lawn chair, neteyam stuffing you full and then fucking you prone bone to “make sure it sticks.”
☽ m.list
Neteyam says he’s exempt from baby fever.
Liar.
Look, it’s not because everyone his age has suddenly started popping babies out like the clan made it a challenge and forgot to tell Neteyam. Or even the fact that Lo’ak— yes Lo’ak, has managed to become a father first.
When he thinks about, truly pictures it in his mind’s eye, it’s the sight of you— parading through the clan, belly round with his baby, that settles a heat in his blood that’s impossible to ignore.
The intensity of his longing for it hit him all at once, and it left him with unsteady legs and a hammering heart.
Neteyam would give his left arm to pin you in a mating press and watch your features twist as he sinks inside every other hour of the day. Loves to see his cock split you open then pull out even slicker than before.
“You are so tight,” Neteyam murmurs an inch from your face. “I can feel your heartbeat around my cock.” His fingers dimple the skin on the backs of your thighs as his grip tightens, pinning your knees to your chest.
You fist the soft grass below, nails digging into soft soil, and cry out when he thrusts harder. “Neteyam!” You cry, neck arching when he repeats the same heavy motion, rocking you against the dirt.
“Yes,” he breathes, the rhythmic wet smack of skin connecting filling the air. “I want to see what kind of baby our love will shape.” His voice is breathy and low, thick with arousal.
You tighten around him and his hips stutter with a hitch of his breath. “Do not stop—” you choke. “You better give me a baby!”
“Eywa..” Neteyam moans, the word roughly torn from his throat. He kisses you hotly, sucking on your lower lip and letting it go with a pop. “Close— I am going to—” Neteyam gasps against your mouth, thrusting one last time as he grinds his hips against your ass, cock twitching heavily as he spills.
Shocks flashes across your face when he pulls out abruptly and manhandles you onto your belly, dirt suddenly squished against your cheek. “What are you doing?”
Neteyam straddles your thighs, pushing his cock through the mess and back inside you with a moan. “We have to make sure I put a baby in there, yes?” He braces a hand on either side of your shoulders and rolls his hips deep.
His name echoes in the trees, and Neteyam shushes you as he fucks you into the forest floor.
the concept of "canon" is fake anyway. if you write a fanfic with better emotional arcs than the original you win. i said what i said
𑁍ࠬܓsummary 𓈓 at eight years old, neteyam’s presence in your life continues to become a constant. he’s just there— during tracking practice, during weaving sessions…. and during the walk home.
✶ warnings 𓈓 fem! na’vi reader, reader is omatikaya, neteyam and reader are both 8 here, new bonds and new routines, still learning to navigate social cues and what to do with awkward realizations.
☽ ⋆ ⋅ ──── main m.list ☽ ⋆ ⋅ ──── wwff m.list
| wc 𓈓 1.6 k |
we are continuing from where we left off— word key at bottom !
Tapirus tracks wind all around the kelutral, the soil patterned and worn with prints— leaving you wishing your karyu had chosen a more interesting animal for tracking practice.
It’s midday, the sunlight a warm touch on your skin as it filters through the trees and highlights the forest floor. The plethora of tapirus tracks are easy to follow, the small, friendly creature unconcerned with leaving behind evidence of its existence.
You peek out from behind a tree, noticing fresh dirt kicked up and scattered about.
The tapirus must be close.
Soft rustling from the nearby bush swivels your ears, tail flicking sharply once in annoyance. You twist your neck and glare at Neteyam, whose head has popped up from said bush.
He presses a finger to his lips when your mouth opens, ready to tell him to leave— this is your target and he can get lost. You roll your eyes when he emerges completely, standing so close his warmth at your back dulls the cool shade of the trees.
A faint scent clings to Neteyam— one of crushed leaves and woodsmoke from the fire this morning. Your nose scrunches, the ticklish urge to sneeze making itself known.
A hush falls over you both, the distant cries of ikran filling the silence. Neteyam taps your shoulder twice.
Then again.
Your ears twitch.

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𑁍ࠬܓsummary 𓈓 at eight years old, you struggle with learning the bow and arrow. when a boy— whose name you can’t recall at first, shows up out of nowhere and teaches you, an unintentional routine forms.
✶ warnings 𓈓 fem! na’vi reader, reader is omatikaya, the seeds of an important childhood friendship are planted, neteyam and reader are both 8 here, new bonds and strange feelings, learning to navigate social cues.
| wc 𓈓 1.4 k |
☽ ⋆ ⋅ ──── main m.list ☽ ⋆ ⋅ ──── wwff m.list
The water is clean and cold as it laps at your toes, shocking the soles of your feet and hitching your breath. It creeps steadily to your ankles as you wade into the shallow river stream.
You freeze when you spot movement behind a nearby rock, exposing your target.
A steady breath in, pushing it out slow. Your arms shake as the bow lifts, string biting your fingers as you fight the tension of the pull.
It’s difficult to remember what your dad tried to teach you, but at eight years old you’re determined to figure it by yourself.
A soft breeze rustles your hair. Your elbow dips in fatigue before it’s repositioned. There’s a beat of silence, then the arrow soars.
It pierces the water several inches from where you’d intended.
The startled fish darts down stream, leaving you with sunken shoulders and flattened ears.
Anger balloons in your chest, a fierce heat racing to your cheeks. Your sudden stomping disturbs the stillness, chilled droplets scattering across your lower half as you hiss in frustration.
Water ripples to your left, the movement delicate enough not to disrupt other creatures.
A soft spoken voice fills the silence.
“Don’t stomp, they feel it. And you are holding it wrong.”
Your torso twists to the left, bow hanging limp at your side. A boy with dark braids— close in age, stands a few feet away. You frown. “It’s hard,” you protest, grip tightening.
His name is just out of reach, face familiar but not coming to mind. You know he’s the Olo’eyktan’s son, and that he takes group training way too seriously.
The boy’s head tilts like he doesn’t quite understand how this could be hard. His ears twitch before lifting higher. “Here— I’ll help you,” he insists, moving closer. “Try again.”
You huff, pull another arrow from its holder, and return to your previous position— bow lifted, arrow pointed in the same direction. It’s no different than before.
He settles halfway behind you, his presence felt more than seen. “Like this,” he instructs, gentle fingers guiding your elbow. “My dad says always keep your elbow up.”
𑁍ࠬܓsummary 𓈓 at nine years old, neteyam is your friend. his presence has become as natural as breathing. he’ll choose you— he’ll always choose you, it’s guaranteed…right?
✶ warnings 𓈓 fem! na’vi reader, reader is omatikaya, neteyam and reader 9 here, first real taste of hurt/comfort between them, playful banter, the experience as a kid when you feel like the world is ending over something small— then get over it just as quickly. yeah.
| wc 𓈓 1.9k |
☽ ⋆ ⋅ ──── main m.list ☽ ⋆ ⋅ ──── wwff m.list
“I bet I can beat you.”
The fish you’d been eyeing— a brightly colored, plump creature, disappears into the darkest part of the water. The swift movement ripples the surface. Your ears twitch, bow lowering as the tension in the string eases, going limp.
Lo’ak stands directly to your side, too close, radiating a smugness only he could possess. You let out a sharp puff of air through your nose, eyes rolling. “Yeah right— You could not hit the kelutral if you tried!”
A few feet further down the stream, a soft whistle follows the path of Neteyam’s arrow as it soars through the air. It slices the water’s surface, spearing its intended target.
Lo’ak frowns. “I can!” He insists. He crosses his arms with jerky motions, braids swaying from the force.
“What if you miss and stab your eye out?”
“I will not—”
“Then he will run for hours when he gets in trouble with dad,” Neteyam chimes in.
You twist to find Neteyam grinning, nose scrunching as he laughs to himself at the image. He walks closer, joining the makeshift triangle the three of you have formed, and your body follows his lead.
Lo’ak rolls his eyes, a slight sheen of sweat casting across his forehead under the scorching sun. “That will not happen Neteyam… I have better aim than you!” His tail gives an irritated flick as he speaks.
“Since when, little brother? Just last week you sliced your finger open on the bow string— the string!”
You laugh, covering your mouth.
“Stop it Neteyam!” Lo’ak cries in outrage, eyes widening at your laughter. Suddenly, he shoves Neteyam’s chest with as much force as he can muster.
Neteyam doesn’t budge.
Lo’ak bares his teeth a little, hissing at Neteyam when the only reaction he receives is a patronizing pat on the head. He seethes, ears pinning to his skull.”
“Let us make a deal then,” you interject, trying to prevent the inevitable murder you’re about to witness.
Both boys whip their heads toward you.
“Yeah?” Lo’ak asks excitedly. His entire body perks up, fury forgotten. “What kind?”
“If I win, you weave my share of baskets for a week. I will weave yours if you win.” You ignore Neteyam’s snort of laughter, leaning closer to Lo’ak. “Deal?”
“Deal.”
You shake hands to seal it.
☽ ⋆ ⋅ ──── series masterlist.
──── ☽ ⋆ ⋅ ──── neteyam x fem! na’vi reader
𑁍ࠬܓ SUMMARY 𓈓 neteyam is many things. he’s the best at teaching you how to use a bow and arrow. he’s the eldest son. he’s calm, he’s steady, he’s responsible. he’s your best friend.
when the sully’s leave for awa’atlu, your chest is carved out hollow— leaving you to stumble around like you’ve lost a limb. without neteyam, the world is dull and gray.
you’d do anything to see color again.
𑁍ࠬܓ tags 𓈓 canon but AU, slow burn, childhood friends to lovers, hurt/comfort, fluff, dealing with themes of grief and loss (not death), eventual mated pair, eventual smut, happy ending.
𑁍ࠬܓ cw 𓈓 each chapter will contain its own specific warnings.
✩ chapters 𓈓
✩ one : you taught me how to dance
✩ two : hold on, wait a minute
✶ undetermined at this time. and yes i use song lyrics for my chapter titles.
❤︎ a / n 𓈓
i’ve been wanting to write a series for neteyam, so i thought i’d try my hand at something out of my normal range— which is of course slow burn. this story does contain canon elements, but the AU tag is there for a reason. please be patient while my ass figures out slow burn lmao.
PSA!!!— this is going to be slow to update. i want to approach this without any pressure to finish because it’ll be written much more heartfelt that way. no timeline. c:
✶ if you’d like to be tagged, comment below! i will do my best to keep up with it!
☽ ⋆ ⋅ ──── late night fever
𑁍ࠬܓbaby fever hits neteyam— and hell yeah he’s gonna fuck you until it sticks.
☽ fem! na’vi reader, nsfw as fuck, baby fever! neteyam, being folded in half like a lawn chair, neteyam stuffing you full and then fucking you prone bone to “make sure it sticks.”
☽ m.list
Neteyam says he’s exempt from baby fever.
Liar.
Look, it’s not because everyone his age has suddenly started popping babies out like the clan made it a challenge and forgot to tell Neteyam. Or even the fact that Lo’ak— yes Lo’ak, has managed to become a father first.
When he thinks about, truly pictures it in his mind’s eye, it’s the sight of you— parading through the clan, belly round with his baby, that settles a heat in his blood that’s impossible to ignore.
The intensity of his longing for it hit him all at once, and it left him with unsteady legs and a hammering heart.
Neteyam would give his left arm to pin you in a mating press and watch your features twist as he sinks inside every other hour of the day. Loves to see his cock split you open then pull out even slicker than before.
“You are so tight,” Neteyam murmurs an inch from your face. “I can feel your heartbeat around my cock.” His fingers dimple the skin on the backs of your thighs as his grip tightens, pinning your knees to your chest.
You fist the soft grass below, nails digging into soft soil, and cry out when he thrusts harder. “Neteyam!” You cry, neck arching when he repeats the same heavy motion, rocking you against the dirt.
“Yes,” he breathes, the rhythmic wet smack of skin connecting filling the air. “I want to see what kind of baby our love will shape.” His voice is breathy and low, thick with arousal.
You tighten around him and his hips stutter with a hitch of his breath. “Do not stop—” you choke. “You better give me a baby!”
“Eywa..” Neteyam moans, the word roughly torn from his throat. He kisses you hotly, sucking on your lower lip and letting it go with a pop. “Close— I am going to—” Neteyam gasps against your mouth, thrusting one last time as he grinds his hips against your ass, cock twitching heavily as he spills.
Shocks flashes across your face when he pulls out abruptly and manhandles you onto your belly, dirt suddenly squished against your cheek. “What are you doing?”
Neteyam straddles your thighs, pushing his cock through the mess and back inside you with a moan. “We have to make sure I put a baby in there, yes?” He braces a hand on either side of your shoulders and rolls his hips deep.
His name echoes in the trees, and Neteyam shushes you as he fucks you into the forest floor.
*looking at myself in the mirror*
Fanfiction is supposed to be cringy. You're allowed to write bad. You're allowed to be cringe. Fanfiction is supposed to be self indulgent. You're allowed to be cringe. Let yourself be cringe. Fanfiction is supposed to be fun. Stop putting arbitrary rules on yourself and be free.

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
☽ ⋆ ⋅ ──── late night fever
𑁍ࠬܓbaby fever hits neteyam— and hell yeah he’s gonna fuck you until it sticks.
☽ fem! na’vi reader, nsfw as fuck, baby fever! neteyam, being folded in half like a lawn chair, neteyam stuffing you full and then fucking you prone bone to “make sure it sticks.”
☽ m.list
Neteyam says he’s exempt from baby fever.
Liar.
Look, it’s not because everyone his age has suddenly started popping babies out like the clan made it a challenge and forgot to tell Neteyam. Or even the fact that Lo’ak— yes Lo’ak, has managed to become a father first.
When he thinks about, truly pictures it in his mind’s eye, it’s the sight of you— parading through the clan, belly round with his baby, that settles a heat in his blood that’s impossible to ignore.
The intensity of his longing for it hit him all at once, and it left him with unsteady legs and a hammering heart.
Neteyam would give his left arm to pin you in a mating press and watch your features twist as he sinks inside every other hour of the day. Loves to see his cock split you open then pull out even slicker than before.
“You are so tight,” Neteyam murmurs an inch from your face. “I can feel your heartbeat around my cock.” His fingers dimple the skin on the backs of your thighs as his grip tightens, pinning your knees to your chest.
You fist the soft grass below, nails digging into soft soil, and cry out when he thrusts harder. “Neteyam!” You cry, neck arching when he repeats the same heavy motion, rocking you against the dirt.
“Yes,” he breathes, the rhythmic wet smack of skin connecting filling the air. “I want to see what kind of baby our love will shape.” His voice is breathy and low, thick with arousal.
You tighten around him and his hips stutter with a hitch of his breath. “Do not stop—” you choke. “You better give me a baby!”
“Eywa..” Neteyam moans, the word roughly torn from his throat. He kisses you hotly, sucking on your lower lip and letting it go with a pop. “Close— I am going to—” Neteyam gasps against your mouth, thrusting one last time as he grinds his hips against your ass, cock twitching heavily as he spills.
Shocks flashes across your face when he pulls out abruptly and manhandles you onto your belly, dirt suddenly squished against your cheek. “What are you doing?”
Neteyam straddles your thighs, pushing his cock through the mess and back inside you with a moan. “We have to make sure I put a baby in there, yes?” He braces a hand on either side of your shoulders and rolls his hips deep.
His name echoes in the trees, and Neteyam shushes you as he fucks you into the forest floor.
☽ ⋆ ⋅ ──── shattered.
⟡ 𑁍ࠬܓ shakes you by the shoulders— JUST LISTEN TO ME!! neteyam who knows you can’t have sex before you’re properly considered mates— surely dry humping doesn’t count though, right?
✶ fem! na’vi reader, not very safe for work, aged up, dry humping, neteyam’s filthy mouth— not that he has any idea what he’s saying really, cumming fast, fluff and smut.
✶ m.list
The forest is quiet.
Neteyam’s laughter is not.
“I do not believe for a second you can lift an ikran with one hand!” Your voice holds poorly contained amusement, and tree bark scapes your arm as you shove Neteyam’s shoulder.
He grins, bright and playful. Neteyam nudges you, tail thumping softly on the ground. “I swear to Eywa I can.” He leans close, lowering his voice as if he’s sharing some big secret. “Your mate to be is stronger than all others in this clan. That is why you chose me, yes?”
You huff and shove his face away. “That is not the only reason,” you tease. “I do not believe it anyways, you cannot even support my weight.”
He gasps in fake offense. “You think of me as weak?” Neteyam pokes you in the ribs. “That I cannot hold my mate?”
You giggle and rise to your knees without thinking, tossing a leg over his hips. As if you own the space, you sit down heavily in his lap.
“Prove it, ma Neteyam.”
Strong hands find your hips, his knees drawing up to cradle you. You shift forward, catching the soft hitch of his breath. Neteyam’s grip tightens— intent on pushing you off, then hesitates and relaxes. “Now you are being unkind, ma sevin,” he protests, voice low and pleading. “Do not do this to me. Not now.”
“Do what?” You murmur, hands settling on Neteyam’s shoulders. One slow grind of your hips has him half hard. His jaw clenches as his head tips against the tree— eyes closed like he’s trying to pray through it.
“I am trying to be worthy of you,” he says through his teeth, lifting his head. His hips jerk, tilting up. One firm hand rests on your lower back. “We should wait—”
“You are already mine, ma Neteyam.” Your forehead drops to his, belly feeling like you’ve swallowed something warm and liquid. “We just have not said it before Eywa yet.”
Your tewng had brushed to the side when you sat down, the only thing separating you now the cloth of his own. His dick is warm through the thin barrier, fully hard and twitching as the rough fabric bunches with your slow grinding.
One of his thighs trembles. His hips push to meet you halfway. You straighten, lashes fluttering as the pressure increases against your clit. “Do you know what you are doing to me?” He breathes. “If we were before Eywa… I would not stop.” His lips part with a low moan, heavy lidded gaze flickering between your face and where you connect.
Fingers skate up your ribs, brushing the sensitive, exposed skin below your breasts before retreating to clutch your waist. Your breaths become uneven, clenching around nothing when the ache to be full makes itself known.
Your palms slide down to his chest, nails digging into sweat damp skin, and you quicken the pace. The hand on your lower back pushes, guiding you with a new sense of urgency.
“Ma yawne— I can’t,” you gasp. “I’m—”
“Close?” He lets out a ragged breath. “So am I.”
Every shift sends shocks of pleasure up your spine. Harsh breathing and the rustle of clothing are all you can hear. Neteyam squeezes your waist, fingers dimpling your skin, and drags you hard along the length of his cock.
The pleasure swells and swells. It peaks— then bursts. Your foreheads come together and you moan his name, thighs shaking. Neteyam stills you as his cock twitches once, twice, three times— grinding up with small jerks of his hips.
His breath stutters in his chest, and he only moans when his body melts beneath you.
Your palm finds the center of his chest, where his heart thunders. It’s gives you an anchor. A point of focus as your breathing slows.
“We should return soon,” you murmur eventually, sitting back in his lap.
Neteyam looks up at you with a wince. “I need to bathe first. You have ruined my tewng.”
He laughs as you punch his shoulder.
⟡ sevin; pretty, beautiful
⟡ yawne; my beloved
⟡ tewng; loincloth