sara

⸻ SARA, SHE/HER, ADULT, SLAVIC ⸻

۶ৎ i love writing fics even though im not as good as i want to be — i really enjoy movies and shows, and im into many fandoms

۶ৎ english is not my first language, so there might be some mistakes even if i check over and over again.

neteyam is such a good mate cw. fluff, neteyam being a sweetie, love love love

You’d had a day like no other.

First, your brother slipped out of his duties, leaving everything on your shoulders. Then your fishing net snapped right before you set out, forcing you to spend over two frustrating hours fixing it under the heat, your fingers aching and patience wearing thin. By the time you finally got to the water, the sun was already beginning to dip. You fished until it was nearly dark, the waves quiet and heavy around you.

When you returned to the village, the fires were low and most people had already eaten. What little food remained wasn’t much. And the worst part—you had no time at all for your mate.

“Hey, love.”

Neteyam’s voice came softly, close to your ear. You hadn’t even noticed him approach. He lowered himself beside you on the sand, the ground still warm from the day’s heat. When you turned, he was already looking at you, a gentle, knowing smile on his face.

“Here, I made you something.” He placed a plate into your hands—fresh fish, still warm, and a mix of fruits arranged more carefully than necessary.

You looked at him, tired but softening immediately. “How did you know I was starving?” you asked, your voice quieter now as you took the plate.

“I notice stuff,” he said simply, like it was obvious.

He reached up, brushing strands of hair away from your face. His fingers lingered for a moment, tracing lightly along your cheek, grounding you in a way nothing else had all day.

“You had a hard day, didn’t you?”

You let out a breath, shoulders dropping as the tension finally started to leave you. “You have no idea,” you murmured, leaning just slightly into his touch. “I missed you.”

His smile shifted—softer. “Missed you too. A lot.” He leaned forward and pressed a brief kiss to your forehead, warm and steady. “Eat.”

You did. Slowly at first, then with more urgency as you realized how hungry you actually were. Neteyam stayed close, one hand resting loosely beside you in the sand, the other occasionally brushing against your arm without thinking. He watched you eat. Like he was making sure you were okay now.

Neteyam started talking, filling the quiet space between you. Telling you about his day, how he’d tried to find you more than once but kept getting pulled away—someone always needing him, something always coming up. His voice carried a hint of frustration when he admitted it.

“I should’ve been there,” he said after a moment, gaze dropping briefly to the sand. “I shouldn’t have let you deal with all of that alone.”

You shook your head, swallowing before speaking. “Don’t start. That’s ridiculous. Everyone has their duties.”

He huffed softly, but didn’t argue further. Instead, his fingers found your forearm, tracing slow, absent patterns along your skin.

After a moment, he glanced back at you. “What do you think about a free day?” he asked. “Just you and me. Somewhere quiet. A remote beach… warm sun, nothing else to worry about.”

His touch grew a little more deliberate, like he was already imagining it.

“Please say yes,” he added, quieter now. “I miss you so much I think I might die.”

You let out a short laugh, rolling your eyes, though the smile on your face gave you away. “You won’t die, Teyam. But… yeah. A free day sounds nice. If they let us.”

His expression shifted immediately—confidence settling in like it always did. “Oh, they will,” he said, as if it was already decided. “I’ll make sure of it.”

He leaned closer, his voice dropping just a bit. “I’ll tell them I need time with you. That I miss you. That I can’t function properly without you around. That i can't have a good day without your kiss”

You groaned quietly, cringing a little at his words, even as your shoulders shook with amusement. “Teyam—”

He laughed under his breath, clearly pleased with himself.

“I’m just being honest,” he said lightly.

Then he closed the distance, catching your lips in a soft, brief kiss—warm, familiar, grounding in a way that made the entire day feel smaller.

aonung just loves to rail you up cw. aonung being an ass , he might be a little ooc, just short one shot nothing deep an. i havent written avatar fics in a while, so sorry if its not so good

You never cared much about Aonung. To you, he had always just been the chief’s son—nothing more. Easy to ignore.

Until, somehow, that changed.

It wasn’t sudden. No single moment you could point to. More like… one day you realized he was there. Not just in the distance, not just part of the village noise—but near. Close enough that you could hear the shift in his breathing when he was about to speak.

And apparently, he had noticed you first.

Before, you had been just another figure moving along the shore, another pair of hands helping with nets, another voice blending into the others. Now, you were… something else. Someone he seemed to find without trying, even in a crowd.

It got annoying.

Aonung made a habit of being a few steps behind you—or ahead, depending on what suited him—always ready with some comment. Not the cruel kind. Just… irritating. Teasing. Carefully chosen words meant to pull a reaction out of you.

And they worked.

Every time your nose wrinkled, every time you shot him that sharp, warning glare—he would stop. Not because he lost interest, but because, somewhere under it all, he didn’t want you to actually dislike him.

The sun had already dipped low, painting the water in streaks of gold and deep orange. The tide pulled gently at the shore, foam brushing over your feet before slipping back again, leaving the sand cool and damp beneath you.

You sat near the edge of the beach, a fishing net spread across your lap. The thin threads were rough against your fingers, still damp from earlier use, small bits of seaweed caught stubbornly between the knots. Your hands moved carefully, working through the tangles, loosening them little by little.

The faint smell of salt clung to everything—the air, your skin, the net itself.

You could feel it before you saw him.

That gaze.

“What is it again?” you asked, not looking up, your fingers still busy as you pulled at a tight knot.

A quiet chuckle came from somewhere behind your shoulder, low and familiar.

“What do you mean?” Aonung said, voice light, already edged with amusement. “I’m here to help you, of course.”

You scoffed under your breath, tugging a little harder at the net. “Of course. Help.”

“Oh, please don’t be like that.” You heard him shift closer, the soft sound of sand compressing under his weight as he crouched beside you. “I’m always ready to help you—here, give it to me.”

He didn’t wait for permission.

The net slipped from your hands as he took it, his fingers brushing yours for a brief second. You finally looked up, brows raising slightly as you watched him settle beside you, spreading the net across his knees like he actually knew what he was doing.

He didn’t.

His fingers moved too quickly, too confidently. He pulled at the wrong loops, tightened knots that should’ve been loosened. The net shifted and twisted under his grip, the tangles growing worse with each attempt.

A small piece of dried seaweed snapped off and fell into the sand.

You exhaled softly through your nose.

“You’re an idiot,” you muttered.

Aonung paused, hands still tangled in the mess he’d made.

"Oh.”

The water was cooler now, the last warmth of the day fading as the sky deepened into darker shades. Gentle waves lapped around your legs as you stood knee-deep in the sea.

You gathered the net in your hands, the weight of it familiar, and cast it out in one smooth motion. It spread wide over the surface, catching the fading light before sinking beneath.

Aonung lingered nearby, water shifting around him as he moved, watching you with that same steady attention.

“You’d catch more fish if you threw it differently,” he said after a moment.

You glanced at him briefly, pushing a damp strand of hair away from your face. “I know what I’m doing, Aonung.”

You pulled the net back in, muscles tensing slightly with the effort. Silver bodies flashed within it, fish twisting and flickering as they caught the last light of the sky.

“You’re doing it wrong,” he insisted, stepping into the water without thinking.

The moment he moved, the water rippled sharply.

The fish scattered.

You stilled, then slowly turned your head toward him, your expression flattening before tightening into annoyance. Your nose wrinkled just slightly.

He noticed. Of course he did.

Aonung smiled, as he watched your face—like that reaction alone had been worth it.

“What?” you asked, sharper than necessary.

“Nothing,” he said quickly, though the smile didn’t leave. “Nothing at all.”

With time, you got used to him.

That was the strange part.

His presence stopped feeling intrusive. The teasing still irritated you—he made sure of that—but it no longer felt like something to push away. It became… expected. Something woven into your days as naturally as the tide.

You found yourself noticing when he wasn’t there.

And that was worse.

There were moments when things shifted.

He still teased, still hovered, still said things just to get a reaction out of you. But sometimes, he would fall quiet instead. Walk beside you without speaking, matching your pace without comment. Hand you something before you even asked, his fingers brushing yours a second longer than necessary. Step in without making it obvious he was helping—fixing a knot, steadying something, chasing fish back toward your net without a word.

And you started letting him.

Not openly. Not in a way you would ever admit.

But you stopped telling him to leave. Stopped moving away when he stood too close. Stopped pretending you didn’t hear the difference in his voice when he said your name.

The evening air was quieter than usual, the village sounds fading into the distance until all that remained was the ocean. The sky stretched wide above, painted in deep blues and soft violet, the first stars beginning to flicker faintly. The tide rolled in and out in a slow rhythm, the foam barely reaching you before retreating again.

Aonung found you anyway.

He always did.

“No work today?” he asked, stopping a few steps away, his silhouette outlined faintly against the dimming light.

You didn’t look at him. “I finished earlier.”

He hummed, like that explained everything, and moved to stand beside you. Close enough that you could hear the quiet shift of his breathing, the faint drip of water from his skin hitting the sand.

For a while, neither of you said anything.

The silence wasn’t uncomfortable. It stretched, easy and slow, filled only by the sound of the waves and the distant calls from the village. A breeze passed between you, carrying the cool scent of the sea.

Then you felt it again.

His gaze.

“You’re staring,” you said.

“I always stare.”

You turned your head slightly, just enough to catch him in your peripheral vision. “You’re bad at being subtle.”

“I’m not trying to be.”

That made you pause.

You finally looked at him properly.

Aonung was already looking at you—of course he was—but there was something different in it now.

Something steadier.

Your chest tightened, just slightly.

“…what?” you asked again, quieter this time.

For once, he didn’t answer immediately.

His eyes flickered briefly to your mouth, then back up again, like he hadn’t meant to—but couldn’t help it.

“Nothing,” he said, though it sounded less convincing than before.

You didn’t believe him.

But you didn’t push.

The space between you felt smaller now. Not physically—but something had shifted, like the air itself had grown heavier.

A wave rolled in, a little stronger this time, the water reaching your feet before slipping back again, leaving a cold trail behind.

Aonung moved. Slowly.

He stepped closer, close enough that his arm brushed yours lightly, the contact brief but noticeable. You could feel the warmth of his skin, a sharp contrast to the cool air around you.

You didn’t move away.

“I’m going to try something, okay?” he asked softly, waiting for your answer—but you stayed quiet and still.

That seemed to be all the permission he needed.

His hand lifted, slower than you’d ever seen him move, like he was giving you time to stop him. When you didn’t, his fingers brushed lightly against your jaw, roughened slightly from work, but careful—almost hesitant.

You inhaled sharply, the sound quiet against the steady ocean.

For someone who talked so much, he was so quiet now.

He leaned in just slightly, pausing again, close enough that you could feel his breath.

You could have pulled back.

You didn’t.

The kiss was brief. Just a soft press, uncertain at the edges, like he wasn’t entirely sure how far he was allowed to go. Warm, fleeting, gone almost as soon as it happened.

When he pulled away, he stayed close.

“…you’re still irritating,” you murmured, your voice low.

Aonung let out a quiet breath, something almost like a laugh, his forehead nearly brushing yours.