Prank.
[Neteyam x Na'vi reader]
Warnings: Scenting, Marking, Established relationship.
Synopsis: Lo’ak, wanting to pull a prank on his brother, hugs you and leaves his scent all over you. How does your boyfriend react when he smells it?
Word Count: 917
“You want to prank Neteyam?” Lo’ak questioned, face lighting up with mischievous interest. A slow grin tugged at his mouth, the kind that told you he was definitely up to no good. “Oh, I have an idea.”
You narrowed your eyes at him. “That sentence alone is concerning.”
He leaned closer anyway, lowering his voice. “Trust me. It’ll be harmless. For the most part,” he said, mumbling the last bit.
Reluctantly, you sighed and nodded. “Fine. But if he gets mad, I’m blaming you.”
Lo’ak laughed under his breath, clearly pleased, and before you could react, he reached forward and pulled you into a hug. It was sudden, but playful, his arms settling gently around your upper back. He was careful, and respectful with it, but he stayed a moment longer than necessary, chin resting atop your head, while his palms rubbed in circular motions against your back.
You rolled your eyes but smiled, hugging him back innocently, wondering what kind of prank he had planned.
“Just a hug? How’s that a prank?” you asked after pulling back, giggling and genuinely confused.
“You’ll see,” Lo’ak replied with a sly grin.
Unbeknownst to you, his scent clung to your skin afterward.
Later that day, the forest was bathed in the dim gold of the nearing eclipse when, from afar, you spotted Neteyam near the training grounds. He was focused, absorbed in the careful act of cleaning his knife, with a calm, relaxed aura surrounding him.
You called his name softly at first, then a little louder, jogging toward him with a smile that stretched across your entire face.
Hearing his name being called by a familiar voice, he looked up toward your approaching figure, and his expression softened the moment he saw you. Without hesitation, he set his knife and cloth aside, standing with open arms, followed by you crashing into him. His embrace was comforting and enveloping, his strong arms gentle around you, breath warm against the top of your head. Your cheek pressed softly against his chest, and your arms wrapped gently around his neck as you stood on your tiptoes.
Then, out of nowhere, his arms loosened from around you. You pulled back slightly, confused, and looked up at him just as his expression shifted. His brows were furrowed, eyes dark. Before you could ask what was wrong, his hands came up again, gripping your arms as he leaned down toward you.
And then, he inhaled, once, and then again shortly after, much to your confusion. Quickly, his nose traced the top of your head, following along your collarbone, then your neck, his breathing deepening with each inhale, as if he were trying to pinpoint the scent of someone familiar.
With the realization hitting him, Neteyam froze. He pulled back suddenly, eyes locking on you, jaw clenched, ears pinned slightly back in tension.
“Why,” he asked slowly, voice tight with jealousy, trying to compose himself, “do you smell like Lo’ak?”
You blinked, completely thrown off. Your mind went blank, scrambling to make sense of his sudden behavior and question.
Then, it came to you: the hug from Lo’ak earlier, that playful, innocent prank he had suggested, was playing out right now. Your confusion disappeared at the realization, and before you could stop yourself, a laugh slipped out, small and incredulous, as you looked up at his furious face.
Neteyam’s jaw tightened further. “This is funny to you? His scent is dripping off of you,” he said, with an irritated scowl on his face.
You quickly blinked up at him, cheeks warming. “I didn’t even notice! He just hugged me,” you stammered, laughing nervously.
Before you could clarify that it was a prank, without warning, his hands began moving almost instinctively, gliding over your body, sliding along your back, tracing the curve of your sides, holding you close as though he would never let go. He leaned down, pressing his cheek against the soft skin where your neck met your shoulder, and slowly dragged it up to the side of your neck, lips brushing just beneath your ear. Soft, involuntary sighs escaped your lips in response to his intimate touch.
Although you enjoyed his sudden affection, it left you confused. You slightly tilted your head away, and he followed immediately, matching your movements, and keeping you pressed close.
“Neteyam?” you whispered, heart racing from the contact.
He didn’t look up. His voice was gruff, breath hot against your flushed skin. “Mine,” he murmured, lips brushing over the pulse at your neck before latching on, sucking gently for a moment before pulling away. “I don’t want you smelling like him. You’re mine. You should smell like me.”
At his words, a soft whimper slipped from your lips, your knees going weak as your body melted further into his roaming touch, responding to the possessive marks and the raw jealousy lacing his voice.
He stayed pressed against you for a minute longer, inhaling his scent radiating from your neck, before pulling back just enough to take in your flustered expression, with a small, satisfied smirk tugging at his lips.
“Now,” he uttered, voice husky and low, “no one is coming near you, especially not my skxawng brother. And if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to skin him for touching my girl.”
Before you could protest, he strode off with purpose. You scrambled after him, calling out that it was just a prank, but it didn’t slow him down in the slightest. If anything, it only made him walk faster. Lo’ak really should’ve known better!
