Stoop I'm Hurting Right Now 😭 Let Them Have Their Love

Stoop I'm hurting right now 😭 let them have their love

A Long Way Home pt.3

Aonung x Omatikayan!Fem!Reader

Summary – You and Ao'nung fail miserably at trying to stay away from each other, unfortunately, that means your parents are quick to notice...

Contains: complex parental relationships, heavy development on platonic/family relationships, fluff, angst, Avatar TWOW spoilers (i feel like thats obvious but wtv)

Word count: 5.8k (I'm a few days late so i panicked a wrote a lot...)

pt.1 & pt.2

Will probably do one or two more parts :))

(the song will come in later :) )

You opted out of lessons for the day, honestly you haven’t needed them for a while, you just liked being with the group, but now you and Ao’nung have a facade to keep up. You sat in the Marui weaving the necklace, even though you were frustrated with Neteyam right now, you still wanted to make this.

You’re sure that these projects shouldn’t take this long, but it was your first one, so you gave yourself some grace.

"So this is where you’ve been hiding out all day?” You look up to see Lo’ak standing at the entrance. You rolled your eyes, “Yeah, unliked someone, I can afford to miss a few lessons” you teased.

He threw his side bag at you, causing you to laugh, before he sat down across from you. “Ao’nung looked like a lost puppy without you around” he quipped; you resisted the urge to smile. “And you’re over here pouting like a child.” you rolled your eyes again

“I am not pouting, I am wishing that you would leave me be.” You kicked at him and he put his hands in the air.

“All right all right, I won't bother you anymore.” He laughed, dodging your kicks, but you landed one on his chest which pushed him on his back. “You are the meanest sister Y/n” he grumbled as you laughed.

It was hard to ignore Ao’nung, he was always around, and he did kind of look like a lost puppy... usually you would banter or explore the reef together, but now he stuck with Rotxo and you with Neteyam and Kiri. Stealing glances at each other and finding flowers in ‘out of the ordinary’ places became a routine, as did meeting at the edge of the reef every night.

You’re sure that your family is growing suspicious of your nightly disappearances by now, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care.

Lying on the rocks stargazing with Ao’nung quickly became what you looked forward to everyday. You talked about anything and everything, life in the forest, growing up in the reef, family. Whatever you could talk about, you would.

“Our parents talked to each other about us.” Ao’nung stated, you sat up and looked at him, confusion splayed across your face. “Apparently, we are a ‘bad influence’ on each other...” he smirked

Ao’nung stayed lying on his back. You furrowed your brows, “But we haven’t even spoken to each other for days, at least in front of others”

“Your parents say I've caused you to be too moody” He laughed, you rolled your eyes and smacked his chest.

“Well, what about you lover boy? What bad influence have I had on you?” you teased, getting close to his face.

Hs smile dropped and he looked away awkwardly, before you could question it you noticed a dark spot on his cheek. With how dark it was, you hadn't noticed until you were this close. You grabbed his face and turned it to get a better look, he protested but you had already seen it.

“Ao’nung is this a bruise?” You questioned urgently, you looked him in the eyes, but he kept them averted. You frowned “Ao’nung...” you pleaded.

He sat up and rubbed the back of his neck, “I uh...” you nodded for him to continue. “Mom and dad say that you’ve caused me to get into too many fights...”

This was the first you were hearing of this... “What are you talking about?” you moved closer, placing a hand on his bruised cheek “Does this have to do with my brothers?” you asked, ready to chew out the sully that couldn’t butt out of your business.

“No no it’s not them” he sighed, pausing for a moment. “There were some guys talking about you and Kiri and... well they weren’t being respectful” you didn’t want to know what he meant by that. “I don’t know, I tried to ignore it, but they started asking me questions about you and-” he gestured to his face.

You frowned and cupped his face in your hands, “Atleast they look worse” he added, amused. You rolled your eyes.

“You do not have to defend me, we’re supposed to be mad at each other remember?” You sat back and he leaned forward.

“I know but I couldn’t just let them talk like that about you and your sister...” he was only inches away from your face, you smiled. He went from being what you needed to be defended from from, to being the defender.

If you had told yourself a year ago that you’d be sneaking around and lying to your family for some boy who almost got your brother killed, she’d be feeding your head to your mothers ikran…

“Well please be careful next time” you placed a kiss on the bruise “now it's not just my brother against us...”

He smiled and grabbed your wrists, pulling you forward as he laid back down. You landed on his chest, a chuckle escaping your throat before you nestled into his side, arm wrapped around you. You could hear his heart beating, this was the closest you had ever been, you swore you could have fallen asleep like this.

You didn’t talk about Spider much, aside from conversations with Kiri and Jake comforting you, it was a touchy subject. Neytiri always tried to hide her scowl when he came up in conversation, Neteyam and Lo’ak didn’t have much to say other than they missed him. It was like he was supposed to be forgotten.

You knew he wasn’t technically a part of the family, he was raised by the lab guys, but so were you. The more you thought about it, the more it bothered you. Spider was your brother, and they just kind of brushed off your worry about him.

“He is human. He will be fine” Neytiri would always say. Neteyam and Lo’ak repeating the same sentiment, just more sympathetic and reassuring.

What If I was the one that got caught?

You wanted to ask them, but you were scared, of their reaction, their answer... so you didn’t.

But you wondered, and the more you did, the more you came to the conclusion that they probably wouldn’t have done much to get you back. You know that you're not the same as Spider, but how would Jake and Neytiri view it?

It was useless thinking about it, harmful even, you knew that, but you couldn’t help it. So you found yourself spending more time with Kiri, she was the only one who could understand the heartbreak you harbored over your brother's capture.

Out in broad daylight it was hard to have a private conversation in such a bustling village, so Kiri called for her ikran and held out her hand for you to mount after her. You raised a brow questioningly but took her hand before she had to explain.

Before you knew it, you were flying above the village, circling as you closed your eyes and breathed in the air. It had been so long since you’d flown, spending most of your time swimming or in the Marui. Kiri did a few more laps before landing atop the mountains on the island, the view of the trees was somewhat nostalgic...

“I thought you’d like it up here” She commented, placing her hand on your shoulder as you both sat on the edge, legs dangling far above ground.

“I don’t know why I never thought of this” you breathed, your shoulders relaxing, you didn't even know you were tense.

“Well, you were a little distracted” she bumped her shoulder against yours, you swatted her away, blushing.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” you denied, and she laughed

“I am not dumb sister. Our brothers may not notice the looks he gives you but sooner or later they will” she smirks, leaning in closer. You look away and continue to deny her accusations, it grows quiet for a second and your mind drifts back to spider, Kiri notices your change in demeanor.

“Y/n you know I was just teasing you right?” she offers, placing her hand on your shoulder. you shake your head “No I know Kiri, I just...” placing your hand over hers “I miss my brother...” you whisper.

She breathes out and scoots closer, you lay your head on her shoulder and she moves both your hands to the ground, still holding onto each other. “I know, I do too.” Is all she says, she doesn’t try to overcompensate or comfort you about how he’ll be fine, she just understands.

That’s what you always liked about Kiri, even when you were upset over something stupid or didn’t even understand your own feelings, she listened and understood. You were both adopted by the Sullys with scientist mothers loyal to the Na’vi, granted, Kiri was adopted from birth and had her mothers recording to connect with, but the fact still remains that theres more than just being ‘family’ connecting you.

“I remember when we were little and he’d always try and carry you around” She started, “Norm and Max didn’t trust him, but you begged and begged to go outside, they could never say no to you.” you giggled at the memory.

“Of course, Neteyam and Lo’ak would start arguing about how they’d be better fit to carry you” she drawled, you could practically hear how she rolled her eyes.

“And I'd get so sick of it that I'd just end up running off or getting carried by you.” you added.

“Lo’ak would complain that you were slowing us down but back home he’d whine to mom about not being the one to look after you” she giggled

“I still don’t get why it was such a big deal” You mumbled

“You were curious about the world, you took it all in like you were one with it” Kiri explained “Max was so protective though, you barely got any time out, so when you did, we didn’t want anything happening that could confine you back to the lab” she played with the ends of your hair as she spoke. “And none of us trusted the others to not mess it up.”

You thought for a moment before sitting up and laughing “So all of that was just a way to one up each other?” you threw your head back “No wonder you guys kept it going when I became Na’vi”

She laughs with you, “Your brothers are all stupid” she states, playfully punching your shoulder “And old habits die hard, I don’t think Neteyam ever gave up”

You smiled “Teyam is...” you thought for a moment “my twin. I might just have to get used to it” you shrugged, a grin spreading across both your faces.

“Well, if you ever need a moment to not be used to it” She leaned in “I think I'm the only one who knows about this place” she whispers playfully, like she’s telling you a secret in a crowd of people, before winking.

You lamely stuck out your tongue as she snickered. Before anything else could be said, the horn that signals the return of dinner hunters sounded, you looked at each other before getting up and mounting her Ikran.

You decided to sit with Lo’ak in one of the village dinner circles, you’re not sure why, but you were surprised to see Tsireya and Ao’nung among the group. You were almost directly across from Ao’nung, and it was hard to resist scooting closer to him.

“Can he stop ogling at you?” Lo’ak leans in to ask, you roll your eyes “Maybe when you stop ogling his sister”

He scrunches his nose “I’m just saying it's weird, you guys have been at each other's throats for days and now he can’t keep his eyes off of you?” He questions, raising his brows, his argument is reasonable, but you’d rather not encourage him. You just shrug and go back to tearing up your fish to eat.

“Hey maybe he’s into that” He adds, jabbing his elbow into your side.

You whip your head around to him, eyes widened, mouth agape, a sound of disbelief escaping your mouth. He only laughs and picks up a piece of your fish, placing it in your mouth and closing it with his hand.

You spit the food at him, and it was your turn to laugh as he frowned at you. Tsireya laughed at the interaction between you two and Lo’ak’s scowl fell into a bashful smile as they shared glances at eachother. You made eye contact with Rotxo and Ao’nung, you rolled your eyes as they smirked at Lo’ak’s awkward crush.

“Maybe I ought to tell her you’re into that huh?” you chuckled into his ear, bringing back his scowl, he flipped you off before swatting you away.

You spent dinner chatting away with the Metkayina your age, and Lo’ak reminding you multiple times to “eat or your food will get cold” or a finger in front of your lips that pointed down to your food as soon as you stopped talking.

Tsireya complimented you on your tweng, sparking a conversation on weaving and accessories. You shared stories of the different bracelets and additions to your necklace, how you helped Neytiri weave Tuk’s first clothes, and when she outgrew them Neytiri wove a piece of it into your necklace before it was repurposed.

She showed you the beads from her first underwater ceremony she performed under her mother, with this, others joined in. Rotxo telling the story of the bones on his necklace, Lo’ak showed off the teeth of his first kill in the forest, Tsireya listening intently. Ao’nung spoke of the beads on his armband and the giant tooth woven into his necklace. the one he took off and insisted you wear while together just the night before.

The conversation was lively and shifted from topic to topic, until some started to yawn and parents came to collect their children, until only a few of you were left. Rotxo and Ao’nung shoved at each other as Tsireya and Lo’ak were immersed in a conversation about the forest, others continued their conversations. You stared up to the sky before a smile fell on your lips and stood up.

You walked around the group, as you passed by Ao’nung you flicked his back with your tail. You kept walking but glanced back and made eye contact with him, you smiled and continued to the shoreline on the other side of the village. You sat in the sand drawing for a few minutes before you heard him coming.

“Took you long enough” you teased, standing up to be face to face with him.

“I didn’t want to be too obvious” He twirled the hair that framed your face with his finger. Grinning, you took a step back.

“I think it’s a little unfair” You drawled, taking slow steps backwards, “That i've learned to swim” with every step you took back, he took one forward. You stopped and you were face to face again “but you haven't learned to fly”

His face dropped; your grin only grew wider.

You resisted the urge to yell as you shot through the air, Ao’nung’s hands holding onto your hips tightly. It was dark but not so dark that you couldn’t see, you flew out past the village and reef. Tsyía cried out, it had probably been a while since she had stretched her wings like this. A smile etched onto your face as you soared through the air. Last time you were over the ocean you were filled with dread, now all you can feel exhilaration.

You couldn’t help the cheers and laughter that escaped you as you accelerated, the waves below you crashed into each other, the sound reminding you of thunder, spraying water on your skin. Slowly you ascend upwards, the ocean now far below you.

“How ya doing back there fishlips?” you smirked.

“I’ll be fine as long as we don't faAA-” you cut him when Tsyía jerked down suddenly, leveling just above the ocean and tilting to the side so the tip of her wing could glide against the water. You laughed as his grip tightened and he jumped closer to you. When he realized what you did, he smacked you on the side of the head.

You snickered “Don’t worry, I won't let you fall” you titled your head back to look at him, delighted look on your face. He still looked uneasy, but he nodded with a smile, he placed his hand on your thigh and wrapped his other arm completely around your waist.

Admittedly, the position was much more secure and comfortable, but you shifted, his skin on yours felt like fire compared to the cool air nipping at you.

You leaned forward more as Tsyía started to circle, not wanting to stray too far from the village. You let your body hang towards the sea as she started to tilt, the circles getting tighter, spurring on her speed. You laughed, thrill and adrenaline buzzing through your veins.

As Tsyía twisted to the point you were almost upside down, out of the corner of your eye you saw Ao’nung reach down and graze the surface of the water with his fingers. Thank Eywa you secured both of you to the saddle.

You noticed it was starting to get late, so you decided it was time to start heading back to the village, a shame since Ao’nung had just started to let loose. You evened out and made a steady pace back to the reef.

Your head fell back resting on Ao’nungs chest as you looked down at the ocean.

“It’s beautiful, isn't it?” You hummed, listening to his heart as it beat steadily.

“I can only wonder what the forest looks like” he pressed his lips to the side of your head. “You must show me one day” he whispered.

A smile grew on your face, you nodded, breathing in the air as it whipped against your face.

As you landed on a secluded part of the beach, you prepared to dismount but Ao’nung beat you to it. He stood to your side, wordlessly he held your hips in his hands and lifted you off and onto the ground, your hands landing on his shoulders for stability.

You pouted, insisting you could do it yourself but he simply laughed, leaning into whisper in your ear “I know.”

You weren't there when Kiri had her seizure, Neytiri and Ronal had taken through the island to collect difference herbs and plants, you ignored Ronal’s subtle remarks about you being too clumsy or ungraceful, it took another kind of patience to calm your mother so she wouldn’t attack the pregnant Tsahik.

You were sorting what you had collected when Neteyam and Rotxo came rushing into the Marui with Kiri in their arms, Jake not far behind them already making a call to the biolab. Before you could ask what happened, or even get a good look at your sister, you were ushered out of the Marui.

You stayed close to the entrance, peaking your ear in, you heard Neteyam explaining to Neytiri that she had a seizure under water.

That’s when you started to hyperventilate. Lo’ak noticed but Ao’nung was the first to act, pulling you into his arms and speaking to you softly, repeating instructions from your breathing lessons. His voice low and firm.

You weren’t calm at all, but you had your breathing under control now. Lo’ak placed a hand on your shoulder, telling you that the lab guys would be here soon, and Kiri would be fine.

It didn’t take long for Norm and Max to run their analysis, but Neytiri had grown impatient and brought Ronal to take over, trusting her position as Tsahik over any human technology. As they walked out of the Marui you perked up and ran over to them.

“Spell! Pa!” You called out to them. Growing up everyone called Max ‘Dr Patel’ and Norm ‘Spellman’, you of course being so young, couldn’t pronounce it and settled on just the ‘Spell’ and ‘Pa’ part. No one ever corrected you, so you never really grew out of it.

They turned around, their mood immediately changing once they saw you. Norm, being in his avatar, picked you up by the armpits and swung you around before placing you on the ground for a hug. “Birdie! How are ya kid?”

Just like how your brother was given his nickname because of how much he crawled around, you were called Birdie because of how you supposedly ‘squawked’ as a baby, you're just glad it didn’t stick like Spider’s did.

Max placed a hand on your arm before pulling you in for a hug, ironic how now you were the taller one.

“I’m good, just worried about Kiri” You pulled away they looked at you sympathetically. “Don’t worry kid, she’s gonna be fine”

You let them both place a kiss on your forehead before retreating to the Marui so they could talk with your dad. As you took your place next to Lo’ak, both he and Ao’nung were giving you amused looks.

“Birdie” They both questioned in unison, you rolled your eyes. “Something neither of you have the privilege of calling me” you state as you flick Lo’ak forehead.

Before either of them can say anything else, you hear Tuk exclaim that Kiri was awake. You peak inside to see your mother holding her hand, Tuk leaning over her, as she starts to cry.

It breaks your heart; you want nothing but to rush in and comfort her but you know she needs space, so you stay back. Lo’ak frowns the same as you rubs your shoulder saying he was right, that she is ok.

You lean back into Ao’nung’s chest as you gaze at your sister, he wraps his arms around you, placing his chin on your shoulder. You were to wrapped up in your sisters distress that you didn’t notice Ronal walking out of the Marui until she stopped in her place, glaring at your display.

“Son.” her voice is cold, Ao’nung jerks his head up, his ears immediately dropping. She doesn’t say anything, she doesn’t even acknowledge you, she just coldly glared at Ao’nung before nodding for him to follow her.

Wordlessly he lets go of you, he gives you an apologetic look before following his mother.

You can tell your heart is only going to break even further...

“What did I tell you son?!” His mother barked, he held his head down, his fists clenching.

“You do not reprimand Tsireya for hanging out with Lo’ak!” He points out.

“Tsireya is not starting fights and slacking on her work because of him.” His mother hisses. She circles around him, picking up his hand to show him his bruised knuckles. “That girl is inept, her connection to Eywa scant.”

He frowns “You cannot know that mother-!” “Do not talk back boy.” She cuts him off.

He helplessly looks to his father who has been observing the whole time, he sighs and stands up. “Ronal, dear, you are being hard on the boy”

“I am talking sense into him. He has already made a fool of us; I will not let the son of the Olo’eyktan court a forest girl when our Tsakarem is already a fool for the forest boy.” she snarled. Ao’nung dug his nails into his palms.

“They have come here to learn our ways and become reef people” Tonowari calmly stated, Ronal narrowed her eyes.

“You let them into our clan and now you let our children mingle with them.” Her voice was steady. “If it weren’t for Tsireya, that girl would be considered an option for Tsahik?”

“Mother! It is not like that” Ao’nung defends

She turns her attention back to him, hissing “I have seen you two, do not think your midnight escaped have gone unnoticed.”

Shit.

Ao’nung looked down, embarrassment coursing through his body.

“I have stayed quiet but I will no longer. Stay away from her.” She hisses before turning and leaving the Marui.

Ao’nung stands there, words caught in his throat. Tonowari places a hand on his shoulder. “Listen to your mother, son.”

You tried to not cry when Ao’nung didn’t show up that night, you knew it was probably his mother, but you still couldn’t help the shame and betrayal that stung at your heart. You waited for hours, you twirled the last flower he gifted you between your finger, the petals falling off wilted.

When you showed up at the pod in the middle of the night, tears running down your face, arms wrapped around yourself, you were surprised to see Neteyam and Kiri up. They were whispering about something, probably her seizure, but as soon as they saw you, it was long forgotten.

They soothed you and help you close as you cried, they didn’t ask what happened, they could probably guess pretty easily, they just cradled you until you fell asleep in their arms. Your face buried against Neteyam’s chest; Kiri’s arms wrapped around your middle.

You felt guilty for interrupting their conversation but the next morning they insisted it wasn’t a problem, that they were glad you came to them. So you spent your entire morning huddled in the corner of the Marui with Kiri, neither of you having the energy to socialize.

Maybe you were being dramatic but you really didn’t want to face Ao’nung or Ronal.

You and Kiri had talked about her seizure, how he was sure it was because of the questions she asked her mother, but that was it. You fell into a comfortable silence until Tuk can barreling in.

“Kiri! Y/n! C’mon you have to come see!!” She squeals, jumping up and down in the entrance. When neither of you seemed receptive, she came in and started dragging the both of you. Kiri protested until She got a glimpse of what was happening in the reef.

“The Tulkun are here!!” Tuk yelled. You stared in awe at the giant creatures filling the reef. Kiri and Tuk both jumped into the water, ready to meet the Tulkun, but you simply walked to the edge of the dock gaping at the sight.

“Y/n” you heard him say your name, you looked down nervously to see Ao’nung on his ilu in the water under you. “I am sorry about last night but please” he reached his hand out to you “Come meet my spirit brother” The apology in his eyes is genuine, you could tell it had pained him how you were visibly hurt and on edge.

Hesitantly, you took his hand and he pulled you down, quickly grabbing a hold of you to place you on the back of his ilu. His hand braced your thigh as he sped off into the crowd of Tulkun. You watched in amazement, the creatures circling far below and bonding with the Metkayina.

A Tulkun jumped out of the water, twisting as it fell back in, the children watching laughing and trying to copy the movement.

“There he is!” He exclaimed “My spirit brother!” He quickened his pace until a Tulkun broke the surface, stopping you both.

“Omui!” Ao’nung grinned “How are you” he placed his hand next to the Tulkun’s front eye. Omui responded with a noise that you couldn’t understand and Ao’nung laughed. “I have been fine, mother and father think I have caused too much trouble though” He signed as he spoke.

The Tulkun made another noise before it’s eyes shifted to you, you tensed up.

Ao’nung patted your thigh, “I want to introduce you to Y/n, she is a girl I have met...” His shy grin explaining more than his words, you blushed equally as hard.

Another noise was made, and you leaned closer to Ao’nung. “I have no idea what he is saying” you admitted

He grins at Omui before looking back at you “He says you are beautiful, that I have fine taste” you feel as if a volcano erupted in your face, a hand coming up to hide your shy smile.

Nervously you signed back “Thank you, you are just as beautiful” He cried out again with what you can only guess was amusement.

You laughed as Omui and Ao’nung shared stories with each other, slowly you started to understand the Tulkun. Tsireya and Lo’ak swam by to greet Omui, briefly talking about you and Ao’nung right in front of you.

You reached over an smacked Lo’ak every time he or Tsireya made a comment about it, ignoring his complaints of getting punished for what Tsireya says.

The rest of the day was spent celebrating, telling stories, and dancing. The music was played from the beach, many Na’vi joining in with their instruments and singing. Many danced atop the Tulkun, there were obviously more experienced dancers, as the seemed to be the focus, but plenty simply danced with each other song to song.

Tsireya and Rotxo insisted on you and your siblings joining them in a group dance. You weren’t completely clueless, as many of the songs and dances had been performed at feasts and other small celebrations, but you and Lo’ak still stumbled and ran into each other continuously, bickering about who’s fault it was.

Often you and Neteyam took turns dancing with Tuk, she jumped around with no regard to the beat or rhythm, until Kiri swept her up in her arms once she was tired out. This left you and Neteyam together, he clearly found amusement in how uncoordinated you were, but he always caught you and was patient when helping you stay with the beat when you fumbled.

Neteyam laughed as he watched the the dismay on your face when Ao’nung and Rotxo pulled you all along in a dance the required hopping from Tulkun to Tulkun, and many seemingly advanced steps. You screeched as you fell an embarrassing amount of times, but Teyam always covered for you, ‘falling’ far less gracefully more than a few times or catching you.

You were dizzy and tired out by the time you made it back to Omui, falling into the water when Lo’ak and Rotxo made an abrupt stop. You groaned and stated you wouldn’t dance anymore, they picked at you for a bit but eventually dispersed, leaving only you and Ao’nung who sat on his ilu with you while you regained your energy.

As it got closer to night, more mellow, soothing songs were played. Ao’nung grinned and held out his hand as he stood on top of Omui, recognizing which song would come next.

“What if we are seen?” You whispered, hesitating to take his hand.

He glanced around before turning back to you, reaching his hand out further “Then we are seen.”

(Play the song now I think?)

And with that you placed your hand in his and he pulls you up, you glance around and realize you’re now farther to the back of the reef. He wraps his arm around your waist and holds your hand in his, slowly swaying you both to the music.

You kept glancing around as people started whistling to the song, instruments playing in the background, but your attention snapped to Ao’nung when he started softly singing the lyrics.

Wasn’t really thinking, wasn’t looking, wasn’t searching for an answer

You stared at him, he continued to grin as he swayed you to the music.

In the moonlight. When I saw your face...

You bit back a smile as he leaned in closer

Saw you looking at me, saw you peeking out from under moon beams

There were plenty of actual performers on the beach singing, but it felt like all you could hear was him. His eyes were completely fixated on you.

Through the palm trees, swaying in the breeze.

He dipped you, moving your hand to his chest as your head fell back, a laugh escaping your lips.

I know I'm feeling so much more than ever before

You held your head up but he kept you in the dipped position, his face now only inches away from yours.

And so I'm giving more to you than I thought I could do~

He pulled you so you were now standing up, he stepped back, now engulfing both your hands in his.

Don’t know how it happened don’t know why but you don’t really need a reason

He leaned closer, he brought one of your hands up to his lips and pressed a kiss to it, a grin spreading across his face. You giggle shyly, not wanting to look away.

When the stars shine

His fingers now intertwined with yours, your arms extended outwards in a slow fall to your sides,

Made to love each other, made to be together for a lifetime

He twirled you, not letting go of each other of your hands, so you were now locked in an embrace with his holding you from the back.

In the sunshine

His breath tickled your ear, causing you to giggle

Flying in the sky

He held you tighter and shook you gently, you laughed, your head falling back to rest on his shoulder

I know I'm feeling so much more than ever before

He slowly released you; he planted a hand on your waist as you turned around to face him again

And so I'm giving more to you than I thought I could do

He closed his eyes, getting into the song, leaning in closer.

He wrapped his arm around your waist again, taking your hand in his, swaying to the music. You stared at each other. His forehead rested against yours, as he twirled you, he placed a chaste kiss on it. You giggled as he continued to sway with you.

Now I know love Is real

You tilted you head so that your foreheads no longer touched, instead your noses did

You had heard this song once before; you could only remember the last few lines, so you softly sang back to him.

So when sky high as the angels try, leaving you and I,

Your lips were only inches apart as you whispered the last words to each other

Fly love...

You stared at each other for a few moments before Omui sprayed water out of his blow hole, interrupting the moment.

“Omui! Gross!” Ao’nung yelled, but you could only laugh, he turned to look at you, his frown softening as he watched you.

You swam back to the docks on his ilu when it got dark, your cheek pressed against his back, arms wrapped around his waist, his hand over yours. You could faintly hear his heartbeat, strong and steady.

“Ao’nung.” You jumped at the cold voice. You peaked from behind his shoulder to see both your parents standing on the dock, your parents looking at you disappointed, Ronal and Tonowari angry.

“Both of you.” The Tsahik pointed in the direction of her Marui “Now.”

Charming Killer: 5

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Pairing: Neteyam x reader

PART ONE PART TWO PART THREE PART FOUR

Summary: Neteyam gets advice from his grandmother, has a brotherly bonding moment with Lo’ak and sulks about not being able to see you before he then meets an old friend at the asking of his mother. You get your wires crossed and deal with being sad

Warnings: none, very fluffy with Neteyam and fam with a lil angst for you (just being sad)

Word Count: 4.1k

A/N: A lot to say sorry!

It is so incredible that not even a week ago I made a post thanking you all for 1k followers and as of rn I have 2,062! That is so many but you are all my little angels! THANK YOU! THANK EACH AND EVERY ONE OF YOU! You make me so happy to write and I am so fucking honoured to have so many amazing readers with me who like my work! I would give each of you a hug and a kiss if I could!

Now thank you all so much for waiting for me! I have had some great new changes in my life which sadly means I will now upload once or twice a week.

I am sorry but if your tag has been on my list for four times or more (from now on) and your tag isn’t working, I am going to remove it because there are other ppl who I wanna put in! This doesn’t mean you aren’t welcome to read it’s just there are over 180 ppl on the list (and growing) and I’m trying to retain a lil control. (four CONSECUTIVE strikes and you’re out but don’t worry you can asked to be added again and I will try again)

I wanna thank laylasbunbunny for your ideas! They messaged me some theories and ideas and I honestly lapped them up so thank you (also soz I didn’t ask to use them) Layla is an amazing thinker and helped pull me out of a tiny slump I was in <3

┕━»•» 🌺 «•«━━━━━┙

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ohdeersthings

3 months ago

Honestly I be grabbing my man's back during sex cause the muscles just flexing like 🫠🤪

Map of Stars

Aged up!Neteyam x Mate!Reader [Word count: 1.6k]

Warnings: EXPLICIT SMUT, Back praise, unnecessary words bc y/n is smitten fr, body worship, implied smut, size kink if you squint, overstimulation [This goes without saying, minors dni]

You like holding onto Neteyam whether on his shoulders, around his waist, his toned arms, but most especially his back. You loved how his lean back presses against you, tight muscles flexing every now and then, never failing to jostle the fluttering feeling in your stomach. Neteyam however, was oblivious to your growing affinity towards his back. He’s the sharpest warrior there is. He knows when a sturmbeest would appear at a certain hotspot. He knows where the fresh fruits are. But this? This, he does not know. Not that he would care. If anything, he'd be more than flattered, that even the simplest things on him you would find endearing. He certainly notices your behavior around him when those feelings resurface though. He loves how your ears would suddenly turn downwards, slowly turning leaning more into the purple spectrum, indicating that you were flustered. Your tail would suddenly start swishing a bit faster, its end becoming more and more noticeable as it moves unconsciously.

So, when Neteyam saw you doing it once when he was helping his brother remove the saddles from the ikran, he was set on finding out which particular part of him makes you all putty in his presence. First, he tried pinning it on his arms. He has trained for years, effortlessly making it a routine to do various hand exercises to improve his aim, practicing weaving with his sisters, and lifting supplies for the clan, making his biceps more toned, making it one of the first things the women in the clan would coo at. He has tried showing off to you countless times, purposely shooting better at practice when you were around, making sure that you were seeing his taut muscles as he pulled his arm backwards to aim. At dinnertime, he would reach from behind you, making his forearm slightly graze your shoulder. To no avail, you would only smile at him endearingly, face slightly reddening from the contact, but it’s definitely not the reaction he was trying to find.

Neteyam loves everything about you. But he was just a man. He wants to see you melt before him, baring your everything at him. He longs to witness you offer yourself as his and his only.

Neteyam never considered himself as a selfish person. Growing up he has only known to give and sacrifice for his siblings, dedicating his whole being to please his parents, the people around him, always aiming to prove himself as the future olo’eyktan. But as his pupils rapidly enlarged at the sight of you squirming beneath him, your three fingered hands raking along his back, your eyes hooded with overwhelming arousal, all he can think of is to take take take.

“Neteyam–! Slow down–ah!” you pleaded, eyes slowly rolling back at the feeling of his muscles flex beneath your fingertips. You didn’t even realize you were crying until your mate swiped a stray tear on your cheek, dipping towards you to rub his nose against your left cheek, his hand stroking your queue, making you arch your back, meeting his chest halfway. As if to add fuel to fire, he tugged at his queue, forming tsaheylu between you, burying you in massive waves of emotion. Love. Desire. Lust. Fondness. Worship. Ardor. Everything came to you in a roller, making you quiver at the feeling, chanting out his name so loud some might mistake it for a ritual, a sacrament of lascivious want for your mate’s back.

You were too swamped with pleasure your hands have fallen on the mats, gripping at nothing as Neteyam thrusted at you faster and faster, never getting tired of maneuvering his hips forward and backwards, pulling back until only his tip was inside of you, then moving oh so deep back into you, giving you endless jolts of pleasure. You rolled your hips upwards to try and match his pace, only proving to you that you can’t catch up to his tempo as he outruns you by digging his member brisker into you. He groans at your ear, slipping from his positioned palms, almost failing to stop himself from falling flat into you, his elbows acting as cushion from his unexpected collapse from too much delectation. From the new angle, he catches your lower lip between his teeth, playfully biting it then smashes his lips against yours, deepening it with a delve of his tongue on yours. He moans as you reciprocate by licking against his tongue, decelerating his thrusts to match how slowly he detaches mouth from yours, a string of saliva appearing from between you.

It was endlessly torturous as it was tremendously pleasing to you, that he would go from slow to fast then rapid to sluggish, continuously building the impending knot in your stomach. “Oh my Eywa–! Neteyam-” you exclaim as he once again consumes you by plunging into you harder rhythmically. He grabs your hand, guiding it on his back as he rammed into you. You whine in realization as he makes you scour through his rear muscles, feeling them twitch at your hand’s mercy, experimentally pressing through the plush of them with Neteyam muttering a curse as he impossibly quickened his pace. You were seeing stars when he gave you three of his hardest thrusts, your arms pulling him closer to you, making him nestle against the dip of your collar. You sob against his shoulder as you feel yourself let go, your slick covering the entirety of his member.

“Hahh–” He breathes, his warmth seeping through, filling you with his seed, never stopping his languid thrusts, his eyes almost went black when he sees himself inside you, his shaft plunging inside you lazily, a dent on your stomach visible. You pull his head into you, kissing him with wild abandon. This takes you back to your first night as mates. You were on his back, being carried by him to the tree of souls after you hurt your ankle out of sheer excitement when the day he would choose you has come. Your courting was well known in the village. The people knew that the two of you have loved each other for a long long time.

That night was also the reason why you have come to love the way his back would dip into a perfect semi-arch that leads to the most alluring tail you have ever seen. The way his back pressed into your chest, firm muscles shifting every now and then, it was so so attractive. So when your beloved pulled out from you, you could not help but pull him closer to you, only you shifted him onto his stomach, your eyes seemingly forming into hearts as they lay gaze on his freckled back, the bluest stripes adorning it. Your eyes droop into a mesmerized look, thinking just how beautiful Neteyam is. You could be presented with every eligible man in the whole world but not one of them would hold a candle to your Neteyam.

Neteyam shifted his neck slightly to see what you were up to, chest slightly heaving at the exhaustion starting to seep through. He was about to ask what was wrong when his eyes widened in realization. You were practically melting his back into a puddle with how lovingly your amber eyes were stuck onto him.

“I see,” he chuckles, voice slightly raspy. He folds his arms beneath his head, acting as a pillow to make himself comfortable, knowing how much time you will spend giving his back attention. Yawne does that very well, in his opinion. You gently put open mouthed kisses on his back, a beautiful map of stars that you have come to love, giving each bioluminescent freckle attention, doing your best to remember which spots struck the most reaction. Neteyam jutted his hips onto the flooring after you suckled on a certain area of his back just a few centimeters away from his tail. Eywa, he exclaimed. You started working your way up, licking him from the dip of his spine, moaning obscenely as you did it, your hips rocking against his tail, its incessant flickering creating a friction against your womanhood.

A familiar buildup has Neteyam breathe a sigh, groaning as he feels your wetness against his back, your nose nuzzling against his braids. You kneaded the knots on his back, eyes rolling back at the feel of his muscles rippling against your palms, tearing a loud moan from you as your mind blanked out for almost a minute with how unexpected your release came. Neteyam gasped your name as he himself let go of the tightening in him, releasing a sputter of his semen against the ground, his right hand shakily reaching behind him almost tangling with the connected queues, and finally came in contact with your sex as he massaged through the bundle of nerves, helping you through your release. You squirted against his back, making your breath hitch when you felt his left hand rub your bottom against him, stroking it in a circular motion.

“Neteyam, I love you–!” You scream, continuing to whimper his name, "Neteyam, Neteyam Neteyam—Haah.." your voice fades as you run out of breath from overstimulation, tickling his ears as you did so.

As soon as he felt your heartbeat slow down, he shifted onto his back to guide you into a cuddling position. Deciding how close he needed you, he lifted you up to put you quite literally on him, an appreciative sigh coming from you. You pressed a kiss on his cheek, then went back to nuzzle against his neck, mumbling an i love you, so so much my mate. It was not too long until your soft snores reached his ears. He chuckles at the sight, his arms wounding around your waist, his tail protectively wrapping itself around your thigh, with yours unconsciously doing the same to him. He smirked at his new discovery, the cogs inside him starting to run through ideas where he can exploit this to tease you, perhaps score another passionate night with you, as the two of you go beyond your experiences, showering each other with love and intense desire.

ミ the mightiest

part 1 | part 2

🍓 pairing: neteyam x human fem reader 🍓tags: nsfw, aged up neteyam (obviously), jealousy, alien cultural misunderstandings, oral sex (f receiving) vaginal sex, size kink, voyeurism, brief na'vi oc x reader, mentions of reader sleeping with other na'vi men

masterlist

reblogs are always enormously appreciated!

notes: okay i had to split this into two parts because it surpassed the tumblr word limit 🙃 here’s part 1, and I’ll post part 2 in a day or two!

adult neteyam art created by the incredibly talented @cinetrix, whose work motivated me to write for adult neteyam in the first place!!

The tsahìk’s hut is cool and dark, offering a much needed reprieve from the hot balmy air of the day outside. It’s been a quiet day for you, though you can’t complain about that; it’s a pleasant change of pace from the usual hectic rush of people that usually pass through.

It’s one of the rare days that Mo’at has left you to tend to the duties of the healing hut alone; it had taken years to reach this level of trust with her, and you find yourself almost deliriously proud to be able to help out. Na’vi medicinal practices are very different to human ones, but your training in first-aid has given you enough knowledge and experience to hold your own when it comes to helping out with the smaller day-to-day ailments that tend to pass through the healing hut.

Besides, you’re always happy to give Mo’at a break. She had claimed that she needed time to commune with Eywa, though secretly you suspect that she just likes to take some time to herself in her old age. But that’s fine – you’ve always found helping out in the healing hut soothing, and your heart swells at the fact that Mo’at trusts you enough to leave you in charge, even if it’s only for a few hours.

It also helps when your patient is a big, hunky alien warrior with more muscles than brains, who sits in front of you as you smear a herbal paste over the scratches he had gotten in training earlier that day.

Txeyto is not an easy patient; he flinches when you prod his wounds, whines when you clean them, and complains as you smear the paste on his scrapes. It’s a little irritating, but the sight of his big broad shoulders and chiselled abdomen is enough to soothe the worst of your aggravation.

“Are you nearly finished?” Txeyto complains, flinching away from your fingers once more.

You bite your tongue and force a smile. Patience has never been your strong suit, and Txeyto is certainly testing the short reserves you have left. But he’s very handsome, and very skilled at archery, and you feel that his physical attractiveness outweighs the minor personality flaws.

“Yes, just another few moments.” You murmur, keeping your voice low and soothing as though speaking to a child.

Txeyto settles a little when you use the baby voice on him, and you struggle to keep your face blank at the ridiculousness of it all. Men are such children, even the big strong Na’vi warriors that should be above such behaviour. He’s lucky he’s handsome.

“How did you get these injuries, hm?” You ask, using a light touch to dab some of Mo’at’s specially formulated healing paste onto his scrapes. You keep your fingers as gentle as possible, but Txetyo still winces dramatically.

He perks up at your question, his tails swaying low over the floor where you’re both sat cross-legged. “I have been training very hard. I am one of the best archers in the village now.”

“No doubt.” You murmur distractedly as you work.

“But it is important for a tsamsiyu to be competent in many forms of combat, so I must practice my hand-to-hand combat also,” Txetyo continues, apparently forgetting to wince now that he’s talking. “Neteyam has been helping me train.”

Ah. You can’t help the face you make at that, and you’re thankful that Txeyto’s back is facing you so that he can’t see your expression. You also can’t help the way you cast a quick glance towards the entrance to the hut, as though worried that simply speaking the name aloud will summon Toruk Makto’s eldest son.

“Is that right?” You say, keeping your tone carefully neutral. “So, he’s the one that got you all scraped up like this?”

Txetyo’s shoulders flex under your hands, and you realise without looking at his face that you’ve stung his pride.

“I scraped him up also.” He grumbles, shifting to try and peer over his shoulder. “They are wounds to be proud of, as I got them in combat.”

You don’t think that a couple of minor scratches from wrestling around in the mud with one of the village’s biggest dickheads count as combat wounds, but you don’t argue. You just hum non-committedly, paying more attention to his bruises than is entirely necessary.

“You should be careful,” You say instead, running your fingers carefully over one of the bruises discolouring the pretty blue skin of his defined bicep. “It’s a shame to see these lovely muscles all bruised up.”

There’s a long moment’s pause. It seems as though the cogs in Txetyo’s head are working slowly, because he seems to be struggling to understand your flirty tone of voice. But when it finally seems to click, he turns his head to peer at you with wide, curious eyes.

“Ah,” He says, his shoulders squaring as he seems to preen. “You like them?”

God, he really is a little dumb. But that’s okay. You don’t necessarily need a man with brains.

“Mhmm,” You hum, allowing your hand to rest on the bulge of his bicep. “I like strong men.”

That’s true, if a little bit of an oversimplification. You’ve lived as a human on Pandora your whole life, but it was only in recent years since you’ve reached adulthood that you’ve started really paying attention to the people around you. And good lord, you had some impressive specimens to look at.

You find yourself drawn to their athletic and toned bodies, their radiant blue skin, their cat-like grace and agility. Maybe it’s because you had grown up on Pandora with no humans your age other than Spider, but you find yourself especially drawn to your size. The sheer size of their hands alone are enough to fluster you, especially when your brain is flooded with images of those big hands in other contexts.

And luckily for you, there’s no shortage of Na’vi that are interested in experimenting with humans, too.

Txetyo visibly perks up, his ears twitching forward as he finally seems to notice the way your much smaller hands are lingering on his body as you patch him up.

“I am very strong.” He says, tail thumping against the ground.

You fight the urge to sigh. He’ll never make a great conversationalist, but that’s alright. He’s big and strong and handsome, and you just want to relieve some tension.

“I know.” You murmur, your lips quirking a little as you shuffle around so that you’re kneeling in front of him, your knees pressed close to his thighs. “But I could still kiss your scratches better, if you’d like.”

Kissing wounds better is definitely a human colloquialism that Txetyo doesn’t understand, judging by the furrow of his brow, but he doesn’t seem to care. He reaches out and wraps a big hand around your waist, and you feel a pulse of arousal low in your belly in response.

“You like my muscles so much that treating my wounds has aroused you?” He asks, the smugness in his voice impossible to miss.

His pompousness is a little irritating, but you can ignore that because his hands are big and warm and it’s exciting to feel his palm start to push its way under your cotton tank top. The few Na’vi men you’ve been with before had been absolutely fascinated with the soft squishiness of your human breasts, so your breath hitches in anticipation as his hand reaches up to grope at your tits over your bra.

Okay, you can probably admit that you’re a little pent up. It’s probably a terrible idea to allow Txetyo to feel you up like this in the middle of the healing hut, but you’re horny.

If you’re telling the truth, you’ve been hoping for a chance like this all week – but there’s one thing, one irritation, that has been preventing you by interrupting every damn chance you’ve gotten alone with any man.

In fact, you’ve been interrupted so often and so many times that you’re almost expecting it, even as Txetyo’s big hands squeeze at your tits. He’s a little rough with it, but he’s so much bigger than you that you suppose that’s unavoidable – besides, his strength only adds to the thrill.

Then, just like clockwork, as though there’s some kind of sensor that goes off whenever you’re about to get some, there’s a rustling sound by the entrance of the hut before the little woven drape covering the doorway is pulled back.

And then, who else would be standing there, but Neteyam. One of the few people on the whole planet that can actually ruin your whole day just by showing his stupid face.

His eyes find you, but his expression doesn’t change as he glances over your flustered expression and the hand that Txetyo still has shoved up your top. He tilts his head, and it feels as though he’s examining every damn detail all at once; the ointment smeared all over Txetyo’s bruises from training, the way you’ve shuffled so close to Txetyo that you’re practically straddling his thigh, your unsteady breathing behind your mask.

“Ah. Am I interrupting?” He asks with a hint of wry humour to his voice, as though he hasn’t interrupted every attempt at getting laid you’ve made this month.

It has to be on purpose. That, or he has some sort of nearly supernatural sense for when you’re horny, because he always seems to show up every goddamned time. Somehow it’s gotten worse in the last few weeks, too. You’ve barely been able to get a moment alone with whoever you’ve been chatting up before Neteyam has appeared, snapping at them to get back to training or duties or whatever lousy excuse he’s been able to come up with in the moment.

“What do you want?” You snap, impatient and too strung tight to waste your energy on pretending at politeness.

A very delayed reaction finally hits Txetyo, and he scrambles to remove his hand from the inside of your top. His hand alone is so large that the outline of it is painfully obvious even through your shirt, and you close your eyes with a sigh as he clumsily pushes himself away from you in a rather ungainly attempt at pretending nothing was going on.

“Neteyam!” He blurts, his ears flattening against his skull. He’s clearly mortified at being caught in such a position by Toruk Makto’s son, and he overcompensates by attempting to scoot away as though he hadn’t even been touching you.

You try not to roll your eyes – you’re used to this, after all. You’ve been with several Na’vi men, but they all seem to have the same sort of embarrassment about actually being open with the fact that they’ve hooked up with you. You can’t be all that annoyed about it, you suppose. You understand where it’s coming from. You’ve been around the Omaticaya your whole life, and while the taboo of having Sky People around has faded somewhat, that doesn’t mean that anyone is actually willing to admit that they’ve been with you.

You’re used to it. It’s fine. You’re just a little mortified that Neteyam is currently witnessing the scramble for Txetyo to get away from you.

He’s watching the other man with his head still tilted to the side, his big golden eyes dark in the cool shade of the hut. A muscle in his jaw is flexing, like he’s trying not to laugh.

“I will- I will see you later?” Txetyo whispers to you as he stands. He probably intended for his voice to be low enough that it stayed between just you and him, but the hut is quiet enough that there’s no doubt Neteyam can hear him just fine.

“Mhm. Yeah.” You murmur back, watching Txetyo’s big broad back as he steps away from you, all hasty and flustered.

Txetyo gets as far as Neteyam, who’s still standing with his arms crossed in the doorway. Neteyam doesn’t so much as shift, his eyes dragging with lazy satisfaction over the myriad of scrapes and bruises that he had left on Txetyo during their sparring earlier.

Txetyo shifts on his feet, visibly nervous in the face of his future chief’s judgement. “Ah… Will we train again tomorrow, Neteyam?”

Neteyam hums non-committedly, before finally stepping away from the doorway. He brushes past Txetyo, and you wonder if he’s always so dismissive of his fellow warriors or if he’s just being an even bigger dickhead today for some reason.

“We will see.” Neteyam says shortly, though he’s not even looking Txetyo’s way.

Taking that as the dismissal it so clearly is, Txetyo nods awkwardly before disappearing out of the hut, leaving you and Neteyam alone.

For a long moment, you do your best to avoid looking up. You’re beyond irritated right now, made so much worse by the fact that your panties are kind of wet and you’re so fucking desperate for attention right now. The little wooden bowls knock together clumsily as you try to arrange them without looking up, but it becomes difficult when Neteyam lowers himself down to sit opposite you.

“The tsahìk’s hut is a bold place for such activities.” He says, and you don’t have to look up to know that there’s a stupid smug look on his face. “What would my grandmother think?”

As he sits down, he places a woven bag by your knee. You don’t need to look at it to know what it is; he’s always bringing stuff to the healing hut for his grandmother. Herbs or medicinal plants, fibres for weaving bandages, even animal bones that he had whittled down for needles for suturing.

Even you can grudgingly admit it’s thoughtful; but he only ever seems to bring it when you’re around. It’s like he just wants to rub it in your face that he excels at everything he does – it’s extremely annoying.

You finally look up, your face already scrunched in a scowl. “What do you want?”

He raises his hairless brows at you, an expression he no doubt learned from his father. “I would like my cuts from training treated. What else would I be here for?”

And now you know that he’s just messing with you, because while Txetyo was covered in bruises and abrasions from his tough training session earlier, Neteyam doesn’t have a single visible scratch.

“What exactly am I supposed to treat?” You ask, voice tight.

Neteyam shifts, proffering you his shoulder, and you see a single scrape along his otherwise flawless striped blue skin. You purse your lips, staring at it in mild disbelief.

“You can’t be serious.” You say, deadpan.

But it’s clear that Neteyam is serious, because he’s already stretching out on the comfy woven rugs of his grandmother’s hut as if he belongs there. It’s obvious that he has no intention of moving – he must have come here just to torture you.

You blow out a frustrated breath, the inside of your respirator mask fogging up briefly before rapidly clearing. Neteyam is infuriating. He gets under your skin in a way that no one else does, as though he knows every goddamn little button to press just to aggravate you.

Maybe it’s just a by-product of having been raised as next in line to lead the Omaticaya, or of being Toruk Makto’s oldest son, but you’ve always found Neteyam closed off and distant.

Truthfully, you can’t say for certain if he’s always been this way. When you were young teenagers, you hadn’t had much contact with him; he was always busy with his own training, and then the whole Sully family had left for Awa’atlu. When they had returned, several years later, Neteyam had been more reserved, and yet somehow even cockier and more confident than ever.

“I don’t understand you. There’s no need for you to get this scrape seen to, and you know it. You just like wasting my time.”

He just watches you as you complain, his eyes hooded and dark in a way that honestly leaves you a little heated. He doesn’t deny it, which only irritates you further. You knew he was just trying to annoy you!

“It’s your job to treat wounds when you’re here, isn’t it?” He asks, and you can see the way his tail is lazily undulating behind him, skimming across the woven carpet. He’s enjoying arguing with you.

You huff out a put-upon sigh, before grabbing two of the jars. The ointment is naturally antiseptic but it goes on with quite a sting; you try not to feel satisfied about that as you coat your fingers in it before dabbing it onto the scrape on Neteyam’s shoulder. You’re not as gentle as you’d usually be either, your patience is too thin for you to be considerate with him right now.

But this is not Txetyo. This is Neteyam, and he doesn’t so much as flinch as you rub the paste over his still sluggishly bleeding scratch, even though you know it must sting. You try not to feel irked by his stoicism.

As you work, Neteyam’s head rolls back. In a move that’s almost imperceptible, his nostrils flare and he scents the air. You assume it’s the fairly astringent scent of the herbal paste you’ve just pulled out that’s bothering him, and you raise an eyebrow at him.

“Problem?”

His lips quirk, though he manages to keep his expression neutral. “No. I am simply enjoying being under your tender care.”

You narrow your eyes at him. He’s mocking you now.

The fact that he had walked in on Txetyo’s hand up your top as he groped at your tits feels like a heavy unspoken weight in between you as you dab at his minor wound. You keep waiting for him to bring it up, to laugh at you for it, but he remains stubbornly quiet as you work, his golden eyes watching you in quiet contemplation.

In fact, he’s never brought up any of the times he’s interrupted you right before you got with someone. He’s caught you in varying levels of undress, with Na’vi men over you, under you, holding you, touching you, kissing you, but somehow just before anything good actually happened. Every time the men had scrambled away from you as though you were something diseased, mortified at being caught with a tawtute by Neteyam, a man that (for some reason you can’t comprehend) they seem to have an awful lot of respect for.

In the beginning, you were inclined to come up with excuses for him; he was Jake Sully’s oldest son, and was inevitably going to keep track of his peers and where they disappeared off to when they had duties that they should be attending to. But now, you think he’s doing it to spite you specifically. It might be a bit of a self-centred thing to believe, but you’re almost certain of it.

You shift on your knees beside him, raising yourself up a little to ensure that you’ve covered all parts of his scrape. You don’t want him returning tomorrow to complain that you didn’t do a good job.

You have to bite back another sigh as you do so, your thighs rubbing together in a way that sends a sharp jolt up your spine. You’re horny and needy and so, so resentful of the fact that you’re now treating the same man that’s the direct cause of your state right now.

Neteyam’s attitude wasn’t the only thing that changed in his time away, however. You have to keep your eyes fixed carefully on his bruising shoulder, because if you didn’t you know that your gaze would wander, and that’s a dangerous game to be playing in the presence of someone as perceptive as Neteyam.

But it’s difficult not to look. Time and ocean air has been kind to him; he’s grown as tall as his father, and whatever sort of training or work he had been doing with the Metkayina has resulted in broader shoulders and a more sturdy build than is typical of the Omaticaya. It’s galling to admit, and makes you feel as though you’ve eaten something sour and unpleasant, but Neteyam is hot as hell.

He might be aggravating and smug and too cocky, but no one in their right mind could deny that he’s attractive. Not even you. Especially you, if you’re being honest with yourself, considering your penchant for enormous blue alien men that could snap you in two with a pinkie if they felt so inclined.

God, you really have to think about something else. You’re so wet that your panties are starting to get uncomfortable, so you focus determinedly on the resentment that’s still simmering over the fact that Neteyam had interrupted what was promising to be a very productive encounter with Txetyo.

Neteyam shuffles a little where he’s sitting in front of you, and your eyes track the way his muscles bunch and shift under his vibrant blue skin. Damn, but seeing Na’vi musculature up close never gets old, even if it’s Neteyam.

You’re almost finished with dabbing paste on the tiny scrape (and you hate to admit that it had taken you longer than it should have due to your distraction), when Neteyam half-turns his head towards you.

“My back is sore, also.” He murmurs, though his eyes remain downcast.

You pause, staring at him. “Okay. And?”

There’s a moment where the two of you just look expectantly at each other. When nothing comes of that, Neteyam speaks again.

“You are playing healer today, are you not?” He asks, and his left ear twitches oddly. “Or is your attention all reserved for Txetyo, hm?”

Your cheeks heat in humiliation and your jaw clenches. You knew he wouldn’t be able to help himself from making some sort of stupid comment.

“Lay down.” You snap, prickly and embarrassed.

“Yes ma’am.” Neteyam purrs, probably all satisfied that he’s gotten under your skin. He reclines, all of those lithe muscles flexing and bunching as he rolls over onto his stomach.

You grab another pot of ointment, and then take a moment to steady yourself.

You know that he’s winding you up on purpose, just like always, but you can never figure out why. He doesn’t treat you like any of the other men in the village do – they might enjoy fucking you, but they’re rarely caught dead in public with you, worried about what it might mean for their own reputations.

Neteyam is bolder, more confident; though the burden of responsibility that he carries is unmistakable, he never seems to get caught up with the petty whispering and musings of the village people. It’s just unfortunate that he seems so set on bothering you.

Your mouth goes dry as your eyes drop mindlessly over the expanse of his long, pretty back. His skin is stretched tight over lithe muscle, little luminescent white freckles glinting like little stars. He looks so smooth, though the flawlessness of his body is marred by thick pale scars that litter his skin, courtesy of the near legendary battle with the RDA that you hear happened off the coast of Awa’atlu.

You glance down, flustered. Fuck. It would be so much easier to hate him if he wasn’t physically perfect.

“Problem?” Neteyam’s voice is a little lower in register than it was before, perhaps because he’s lying on his stomach with his head pillowed under his crossed arms.

You twitch. Shit. You had gotten distracted, and had lost yourself staring at him.

“No. Shut up.” You blurt reflexively, dipping your fingers into the oily ointment used for easing sore muscles.

Neteyam huffs quietly, a sound that could be a grunt or a laugh, but doesn’t bother responding. It makes you feel as though you’ve lost a game you didn’t know you were playing.

Antsy and on edge, you lean forward and survey his strong back properly. When he's laying out in front of you like this you can see the way his back is knotted with tension and his shoulders are hiked up around his ears. It doesn't look too bad, but it can't be comfortable either.

You take one more moment to admire the musculature of his shoulders, before gathering yourself and dipping your fingers into the ointment. It's balmy against your fingers and smells a little bit like blueberries, and begins to tingle when your hand is entirely coated.

"Where does it hurt most?" You ask, your voice quiet.

In the silence, you can hear Neteyam’s throat click when he swallows.

"My neck and shoulders." When he speaks, his voice is a little deeper than expected.

The very first touch to Neteyam’s back pulls a quiet sigh out of him; it sounds like relief.

Considering his size, it takes surprisingly little to have him melting under your hands. Your fingers spread under his scapula, finding a knot in the muscle and pressing in hard. It takes a bit of finagling, but after some firm pressure you feel the muscle begin to soften beneath your touch.

Gaining confidence, you return your kneading fingers to his neck. He really is terribly tense, and shivering spasms flit up and down the muscles of his back in regular intervals as you drag the warm palms of your hands over him. As your fingers work into his tense muscles, he lets out quiet little grunts that are muffled by the cradle of his arms.

“Why were you so hard on Txetyo during training?” You ask as your fingers dig into the tense tissue of his back. Your voice is unintentionally loud in the quiet of the hut. “He looked as though he had been attacked by a thanator when he was here earlier.”

Neteyam just grunts. “Txetyo is an overconfident skxawng. He is not nearly as skilled as he thinks he is.”

You click your tongue, dissatisfied with that answer. “I could say the same about you.”

Just like all your attempts to insult him, your words seem to bounce right off him. Stupid thick-skinned bastard. His pretty mouth tilts up in a smile.

“I have the skills to back it up, paskalin.”

Your lips purse at the name, your cheeks hot. God, he’s such an asshole.

When you exert pressure as you run your fingers down his spine, Neteyam grunts softly into his arms. The sound is startling in the quiet, interrupting the steady rhythm of your quiet breathing.

"Does that hurt?" You ask. Your voice comes out a little shakier than you’d like.

"No." Neteyam’s voice comes out in a low, gravelly rumble. The sound of it almost startles you into snatching your hands away, but you manage to refrain yourself. "Keep going."

You just swallow thickly, and try to keep yourself on task. “He just wants to be better. He was excited to train with you–”

“Lower.” Neteyam groans, shifting under your hands.

You clench your teeth. Really, you should probably just walk away from him. There’s no real need for you to be doing any of this. He’s not even injured, and who knows whether he’s telling the truth about his back being tense.

But you’re stupid, and you’ve never been good at walking away, from either fighting or fucking. This strange encounter feels as though it lies somewhere in the middle of those two things. Your palms drag down to his lower back, and he flinches briefly before melting under your touch.

His body is so big that it’s difficult to get a good angle to knead properly at his tense muscles, and before you can think too hard about it you swing your leg over his hips. You settle back, perching your weight cautiously at the base of his spine.

It's a braver move than you would usually make, but you try not to second-guess yourself — like this, you have so much more leverage to rub at the rigid sinews of his back. You drag your knuckles down the length of his spine and he groans into the cradle of his arms.

You try to ignore the excited flutter in your belly. It’s just Neteyam. You’re not actually getting turned on from this; the only reason you’re so affected is because you had been horny with Txetyo. You shift where you’re sitting on his back, but you have to force yourself still almost immediately, because the friction nearly makes your lungs seize.

“Comfortable?” Neteyam murmurs, and you can hear amusement in his voice.

“Shut up.” You say reflexively, before scowling. “I can’t believe you interrupted me and Txetyo just for this. You have, like, one bruise–”

“It’s a very sore bruise.” He murmurs lazily, sounding unbothered. “Do you think squeezing your tits might help? That seemed to help Txetyo feel better.”

You pause, jaw dropping in indignation. “I– shut up!”

Neteyam makes a noise that sounds like a snicker, and you dig your fingers down the planes of his back vengefully. His waist narrows into an elegant taper, and when you reach the part of his back where his ass begins to swell, you exert firm pressure against the base of his tail.

If you had done it to a human, you know it would have hurt. But instead the tightness of the muscle unfurls under your fingers, and Neteyam gives a long, low groan. The sound is delightfully gravelly, and you take a breath as you feel molten heat ooze down into your belly and settle between your legs. It’s not a reaction you had been expecting.

You sit back onto his lower back, avoiding his tail. From here, you have a truly captivating view of how slick his back looks from the ointment, and how his skin glows in the dim light of the hut. His body really is perfect, and your eyes track over the taut shiny scars that litter his skin.

“Mmm. May I get up? Or do you want to sit on me a little while longer?” Neteyam’s low voice breaks you out of your stupor, and you’re horrified to find that you’ve just been sitting there with your wet panties pressed against his back beneath your thin shorts.

You scramble off him quickly, flustered and clumsy. It had been a bold move to straddle him in the first place, and now you feel very stupid about it.

“You should apologise to Txetyo.” You blurt, just to say something into the silence.

“Why are we still talking about Txetyo?” Neteyam has always been a relatively tolerant and even-keeled man, but you can hear irritation beginning to bubble up in his voice.

“Because–” You start to say, but then Neteyam rolls over so that he’s laying on his back.

Now that he's lying on his back, stretched out all long and lithe, your eyes rove over his face and then down his throat, his chest, his stomach, his hips. Your eyes catch on the protrusion between his legs and stick there, your mouth dropping open in surprise when you see that his loincloth is tented.

“Because- he… you were too–” You try valiantly to finish your sentence, but your thoughts have scattered to the wind.

He’s hard. Why the fuck is he hard? Is that just from you rubbing his back? Oh my god, what are you supposed to say? It feels like his hard-on is staring at you.

Neteyam pushes himself up into a sitting position, his hands planted on the woven rug behind him as he pushes himself up so that he’s sitting looming over you. Once he’s upright, Neteyam flexes his shoulders and groans slightly as he goes. It doesn't sound like a pained groan, thankfully.

The movement brings him closer to you than you had been expecting, and you end up freezing. Like this, you can see the way his expression has smoothed into one of relief. His shoulders are looser too, no longer held bunched up around his neck.

Neteyam doesn't seem to notice your close proximity, nor the way you have tensed at the lack of space between them. You’re not touching, but you’re so close that you swear you can physically feel the air between you.

“If Txetyo is so upset about being beaten by me in training, then he should focus on getting better instead of slinking away with his tail between his legs and trying to screw you in a corner of my grandmother’s hut.”

You gape at him like an absolute idiot, floored by the acerbity in his tone. You’ve always thought Neteyam was a bit of a dickhead, but that was mostly because of his nearly insufferable need to always be the best. Always the best warrior, the best son, the best brother, the best future Olo’eyktan. The best role model to his peers.

“So that’s what this is about.” You say, your voice coming out distinctly accusatory. “You don’t like that your friends are fucking a human, is that it?”

Neteyam doesn’t even bother answering. He just rolls his now loosened shoulders and watches you carefully. He doesn't tell you to back off, or wrinkle his nose at you, or act as though he's repulsed by you. He just stares at you across the miniscule space between you, and that only angers you further.

“Is that why you keep interrupting whenever I’m with any of the other tsamsiyu?” You demand, fists clenching. “What, you don’t like that your friends find a tawtute attractive? Is that why you keep cockblocking me?”

Neteyam huffs a quiet snort, as though he thinks you’re being stupid.

“I hear what some of the Na’vi in the village say, about how it’s shameful to be with a tawtute.” You hiss. “I just didn’t think you’d be one of them.”

And if you’re honest with yourself, it sort of hurts. Neteyam has always gotten on your nerves with his confusing mix of overconfidence and jagged insecurities, and he had really infuriated you when he had started to interrupt all of those illicit little meetups you had planned with some of the boys in the village, but you hadn’t actually thought that he had any disdain for you like some of the other Na’vi.

And then you do something so stupid that it shocks even you.

Your eyes drop back down to the tent in his tewng, eyeing it thoughtfully, before reaching out and running your fingers over the hardened outline of his cock through the fabric with purpose.

Neteyam hisses, and his hips actually lift off the floor in an attempt to follow your touch.

“God, you’re a hypocrite, aren’t you?” You breathe, fighting to keep your voice casual. “How can you judge your friends for fucking around with me when you’re this hard after just a backrub?”

“They’re not my friends.” Neteyam grunts, his jaw clenching as his head tilts back. His hips rock into your hand.

Your touch goes firmer, and then your hand slips under his loincloth. You’ve had plenty of sexual encounters with Na’vi men, but this is different.

This is Neteyam. This encounter feels like proving a point. A very sexually charged point.

His cock is silky smooth and hot to the touch, and you feel a little drunk as your fingers close around it. And damn, it feels big. All Na’vi cocks are big compared to your hands, but this… feels different. You were aroused anyway, you’ve been feeling pent up all damn week, but now that your hand is on his dick your nerves are fizzing up.

It’s a surprise when Neteyam’s big hand settles on your waist to tug you closer, and you feel your stomach swoop when he pulls you forward. You don’t release his cock even as he pulls you to settle over one of his thighs, your legs slotted in between his, and you can feel him harden even further beneath you.

You wonder absently if it's really you that's causing his very obvious arousal or if it's just a natural consequence of the massage; either way, when his hips flex up towards you, they press right in between your legs.

You shiver almost violently, the sensation of him pressing hot and hard against your core frying your nerves and wiping your thoughts clean. The part of your brain that had been screaming about what a bad idea this whole thing is has become muffled now, and your own hips jerk against his.

“You’re such an asshole,” You say, though your voice comes out reedy and breathless. “You of all people don’t have a right to talk shit about those guys just cause they’re into humans, especially when your cock is this hard, and especially considering where your dad came from–”

He lets out a soft, quiet noise as you move against him, and uses his grip on the back of your top to pull you tighter against him yet again. “Don’t talk about my father when you have my cock in your hand.”

It takes what feels like a monumental effort to wrench your hand away from him, and he lets out a wordless grunt of dissatisfaction as his hips twitch in an effort to follow your hand. It’s delightfully pathetic, and you feel your ego swell at the sheer sense of power that washes over you; it’s a rare feeling, especially when you’re faced with a big blue alien almost twice your size.

“You should apologise to Txetyo.” You sound like an out of breath idiot. “It’s not like you can judge him for being with a tawtute when you’re that hard from me just touching you.”

Neteyam just stares at you, his jaw clenching and his honey eyes dark as he takes several breaths through his nose. You’ve never seen him like this before; you’ve never seen any of the men you’ve been with like this before. It looks as though he’s holding onto a thin veneer of control, and you wonder if he’s angry with you, if you’ve perhaps pushed him too far.

“That was never the issue.” He says and fuck, his voice has gone so gravelly. “And don’t pretend that you’re not wet beneath those clothes of yours. I can smell it.”

Your thighs squeeze together as you swallow hard, struggling to maintain your aura of indifference and no doubt failing.

“That’s because of Txetyo.” You say, and it tastes like a lie on your tongue. “You interrupted us.”

Neteyam laughs quietly and humourlessly. His expression suggests that he doesn’t find anything about this conversation funny, and his hand is still splayed across your back. You’re so damn conscious of how big his palm is as it spreads across your spine. Why the hell hasn’t he let go of you yet?

“Ah, I see.” Neteyam murmurs. “You would have fucked him in my grandmother’s hut?”

Your mouth is so damn dry, and you swallow compulsively. “It’s not any of your business who I fuck.”

Neteyam’s smile is grim. “Txetyo would fuck his own shadow if he were nimble enough to catch it. You have terrible taste in men.”

You rear back. You’re surprised by how much that hurts. Living as a human on Pandora is lonely, and it’s not like you have people lining up outside the human outpost looking to spend time with you. If you want any sort of companionship or intimacy, you have to accept any attention that you can get. And sure, most of that attention comes from men that only want to get their dicks wet, or the experience of being with a tawtute, but it’s better than nothing at all.

“Well, we can’t all be the Olo’eyktan’s son.” You say, your voice stiff and cold. “We don’t all have countless suitors throwing themselves at our feet. Some of us have to accept attention from whoever’s interested.”

Neteyam’s expression shifts, an odd look appearing in his eyes, and your stomach swoops. You don’t think you could bear to see pity in his eyes, so you pull away from him, shaking his hands off.

“Your scratch is fine.” You say, your voice thin and a little thready. “You’re all treated.

“Hey–”

As you stumble to your feet, Neteyam reaches out as if to stop you. You dodge his hands, unable to look him in the eye.

Panic is starting to set in now; what had you been thinking, touching him like that just after he had chided you for flirting with Txetyo in the tsahìk’s hut? God, you feel like such an idiot. He must think you’re so pathetic.

Like a coward, you turn on your heel and flee out of the hut. You need air, you need to be out of the cool darkness of the hut, you need to be away from the overwhelming weight of Neteyam’s presence. Through the blood rushing in your ears you can distantly hear Neteyam call to you, but you’re too desperate to escape from the whole humiliating interaction to stop and listen.

You stagger out of the hut, squinting at the evening light; it seems blinding after spending all day in the dim musty air of Mo’at’s healing hut. You pat at your rumpled shirt and creased denim shorts, flustered and frenzied as you try to straighten yourself out.

“Tawtute?”

You jerk, gasping, and whirl to find that Txetyo is sitting on a log a few feet away from the hut, apparently waiting for you to finish up with Neteyam. You feel like you’re burning up from a mixture of mortification and confused arousal and you’re certain that Neteyam is about to follow you out.

“I– I have to go!” You blurt, already stepping back towards the forest.

Txetyo frowns, obviously bewildered, but he doesn’t stand. “Don’t you want to–”

You don’t wait for him to finish. You’re already fleeing, disappearing into the trees as you run the whole way home.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ

It might be a little cowardly, but you avoid the village for days after that.

You stick to the outpost, watching Norm and Max and the other scientists work. You try not to die of boredom, and you try not to overthink and overthink and overthink.

But you have too much time on your hands as you slink around the outpost, and you can’t stop feeling guilty about abandoning your attempts to help Mo’at out in her healing hut.

You also can’t stop thinking about the shift of Neteyam’s muscles in the low dim light, or the silky hot feel of his cock in your hand, or the soft breathy grunts he had let out as his hips rocked. It feels like the experience has actually rewired your brain, as though you’ll never recover from it.

Growing up on Pandora as a human has been lonely. The only other human your age is Spider, who had become the closest thing you have to a brother – and you love him even when you feel like throttling him, but sometimes you just yearn for more.

You want companionship, you want understanding, you want romance, you want sexual intimacy. You don’t think it’s too much to ask for, and if you have to turn to big nine-feet-tall Na’vi warriors who just want to say they’ve had the experience of sleeping with a tawtute, then that’s… fine. Even if it’s only temporary.

Part of you is honestly relieved when Spider finally manages to force you out of the outpost and back to the village. It’s a relief to get back into the forest, to the village, to the life you’re used to. The outpost has nothing on the vibrancy of the village life, and you feel as though you can breathe for the first time in days upon stepping back into the village, even if it’s through your respirator mask.

There’s been a big hunt today, and the village is buzzing with excitement. You pass by several willowy Na’vi covered in celebratory paint, and follow the sound of the heavy thumping of drums.

The evening after a hunt is always a joyful affair, and you gradually start to relax throughout the night. You feast on collected fruit, hum along to some of the music, and sit comfortably with Spider all evening. At some point you’re joined by Lo’ak, which you don’t mind either; Lo’ak has always been the kind of outcast that fits comfortably between the edges of you and Spider. Those edges have smoothed out as he got older, but he’s always been a cool guy to hang out with.

When he’s not joining Spider in ganging up on you, that is.

“So– so wait, wait, let me get this straight,” Lo’ak is waving his hands as though trying to settle down a group of rowdy children, even though it’s just the three of you present. “Neteyam walked in on you fucking again, but this time it was in grandmother’s hut–”

You’re sat around the large campfire in the middle of the village, tucked away from the main celebrations. Part of you is flourishing being in this environment again, but another part is withering at this damn conversation. You glance around nervously, hoping that no casual observers can hear you guys talking.

“Txetyo only had his hand up my top!” You hiss hastily. “We weren’t actually– and we would have gone somewhere else when it came down to it!”

“Txetyo is a dickhead.” Spider complains, leaning heavily on your side. He’s so frequently dwarfed by the Na’vi that it’s easy to forget that he’s over six-feet-tall and corded with muscle, and his bulk is heavy.

Irritatingly, Lo’ak leans into you the same way on the other side, though he’s more careful about leaning his full weight, and you end up crushed in between the two idiots.

“He isn’t.” You protest, pushing back against their weight. “He’s–”

“Nah, he is.” Lo’ak interrupts before you can defend him. “Total skxawng. You know he keeps telling people he’s the best archer in the clan? And yet he didn’t manage to catch anything in today’s hunt–”

You try not to wince at that. It’s impossible to miss that while Txetyo may not have been successful in the hunt today, someone else is being lauded for their skill and success.

Neteyam has been given a place of honour by the fire next to his parents, and the careful swirls of paint all over his body can’t hide the proud glow on his face. Under the smooth veneer of Neteyam’s smiles and cheer was the jagged edge of his inferiority complex, his need to always be better and to be liked. Funnily enough, his insecurity has always been your favourite part of him. It felt real in a way his cockiness didn’t.

You can’t stop yourself from glancing over. Night has already fallen and there are many couples dancing, the flickering firelight sending wild shadows across the gathering. But even in the unsteady light, you catch the intense golden stare of Neteyam watching you from across the circle.

You hastily turn your face away, pressing your lips together tight as you try to pretend like you hadn’t been looking in the first place.

“–He’s better than Art’alak, at least.” Spider says, continuing on the conversation that you had checked out of for a few moments. “That guy was awful. I mean, what did you even see in him?”

You roll your eyes, sinking further back into the stupidly heavy weight of Spider and Lo’ak in a silly attempt to hide yourself from view. It almost definitely doesn’t work, and you can still feel the weight of Neteyam’s stare on you, even as you fixedly ignore him.

“Pretty sure we don’t want the answer to that one, man.” Lo’ak says, snickering.

His eyes glance around, before flashing across the gathering as though he can also feel Neteyam’s attention. You frown as Lo’ak hastily removes his arm from around your shoulders, even leaning away from you a little.

“I’m allowed to want company.” You say loftily, though you’re certain that your voice is a little shaky.

It feels like your skin is heating up under Neteyam’s eyes, and you feel yourself getting shifty. Why won’t he just look away?

Lo’ak obviously notices his brother’s attention, because he leans a little closer so he can speak quietly in your ear.

“My brother can be unbearable,” Lo’ak murmurs, “But he’s not a bad guy.”

“Gross.” You wrinkle your nose playfully at Lo’ak’s rare display of sincerity about his brother and he hisses at you, swiping at your head.

It’s all in jest, which is obvious given how gentle his hands are with you, and you laugh and lean away.

“I just– I don’t understand him.” You sigh once your laughter has tapered off. “I mean, I get that he doesn’t approve of the whole interspecies thing, but it’s like he goes out of his way to catch me in embarrassing situations. If he finds it gross, why seek it out?”

Lo’ak purses his lips and avoids your eyes. “Uh…”

“Anytime he shows up, the guys I’m with go running.” You continue, your brows knitting into a frown. “I mean, it’s getting ridiculous. Why can’t he just mind his own business?”

Lo’ak’s eyes dart over your head, and you just know that he and Spider are sharing a look together.

“He doesn’t– I wouldn’t say he disapproves of interspecies relationships–” Lo’ak says, but he fumbles a little in his attempt to get his words out and darts another panicked glance across the fire towards where Neteyam is sitting with their father.

You just scoff, crossing your arms defensively across your chest. You feel a little vulnerable talking about this; usually, you’re content to suffer through the embarrassment of having your sex partners pretending they don’t know you in public alone, but since Neteyam had started walking in on you, now he knows that they’re doing it too.

“He scolds them like they’re children whenever he walks in on us, talking about how they’re neglecting their duties and all that,” You mutter, scowling. “But it’s obviously because he’s annoyed that his friends are messing around with a Sky Person.”

Spider shifts at your side, making an odd sound beneath his breath. You turn to look at him, but he’s staring rather fixedly at a tree branch overhead. Lo’ak clears his throat, similarly looking off to the side to avoid your eyes.

You frown. It feels as though they’re hiding something from you, and the thought is unsettling.

“What?” You demand, sitting forward and staring intently at them.

“Nothing,” Lo’ak protests, but his voice is a little too high-pitched to be believable. “Uh… It’s just… well, I really don’t think that Neteyam has a problem with interspecies relationships. Our dad came from the Sky, too!”

You think that Lo’ak probably intended for that to be reassuring, but instead you find your stomach sinking miserably.

“Oh.” You say, pursing your lips. “So it’s me that he has a problem with.”

“No!” Lo’ak protests, but then he pauses. His mouth opens and closes as he struggles to form a response under the weight of your narrowed eyes.

When no explanation comes, you end up just averting your gaze and looking towards the fire. It’s stupid, but you’re not sure what you were even expecting. Neteyam has always been perfect in his personal life, his duties, his relationships within the clan, his looks. It’s hardly a surprise that he’s developed a distaste for you – you know what Sky People represent to the Na’vi, after all.

Across the gathering, two Na’vi girls are shooting looks at Spider. You almost think they’re looking at him in disgust, but when Spider catches their eye and smiles back they both look away giggling.

You click your tongue and roll your eyes. You wonder when exactly it was that the Na’vi your age stopped seeing you as human nuisances that haunt the village, and started instead seeing you as people with possible sexual appeal.

“That is just unfair.” You intone dully. “You get Na’vi girls flirting with you from across the campfire, and I get Na’vi boys fucking me in corners and then pretending they don’t know me. And that’s only if I don’t get rudely interrupted by Lo’ak’s asshole brother.”

“Men.” Lo’ak says in a disparaging tone that sounds as though it’s meant to be sympathetic, but it falls short as he’s biting his tongue to keep from laughing. “Maybe you just have bad taste.”

Spider laughs too, though he’s still looking in the Na’vi girls’ direction. There’s a pink flush in his cheeks, and his smile looks distinctly pleased.

“Yeah,” You grumble, sinking down where you’re sitting. “I’m hearing that a lot.”

The conversation moves on then, Lo’ak nudging at Spider over your head and grinning as he recounts the highlights from the hunt earlier that day, but you’re distracted. You hardly even hear a word they say, too busy staring broodingly into the fire.

Luckily, neither Lo’ak nor Spider mind your silence. They’re perfectly content to fill the quiet themselves, chatting and babbling and joking over your head.

You’re drifting, lost in your own thoughts until you hear Lo’ak and Spider go quiet. You glance over to them, only to realise why they’ve stopped talking – Neteyam is walking your way.

You stiffen, eyes narrowing behind your respirator mask as he comes to a stop before you all. He greets his brother and Spider briefly, distractedly, before his big amber eyes settle on you.

All you can do is wait, tensed. You have no idea what he’s going to do or say, but if he says something about that day in the healing hut you might actually scream.

But Neteyam doesn’t immediately say anything. He crouches in front of you, his gaze as measured and even as ever, and proffers a wrapped utumauti leaf to you. For a moment, you just stare at it as though it’s something venomous.

“A portion of yerik meat,” Neteyam clarifies, not even blinking as he watches your face. “From the hunt earlier.”

Oh. Now you see. He’s just showing off, like he always does. He’s always doing things like this, just to show off his skills, his prowess, how strong he is. It’s irritating; everyone already knows how great he is, and he’s already practically revered throughout the village. You don’t know why he keeps trying to flaunt his greatness in front of you, other than the fact that he must love to annoy you.

Spider nudges you in the side, and you reach out to take the wrapped meat from Neteyam’s outstretched hand.

“Thank you.” You say, a little tersely.

Neteyam just nods, his tail coiling. He watches your face for another moment, and all the unspoken tension between you from the other day seems to swell to unbearable heights. His ears twitch, and then he glances over his shoulder to where his parents are sitting by the fire. They’re watching, which makes you feel itchy and embarrassed.

“I should return.” He says simply, before standing and nodding at you, then Spider and Lo’ak, before straightening up and walking back to his place by Jake, his tail swaying low.

There’s a long moment of silence, where you can feel Lo’ak and Spider staring at you.

“Don’t.” You say sharply when you see Lo’ak’s mouth open, and he closes it with a click.

This feels embarrassing, as though Neteyam is mocking you somehow. It’s not the first time he’s given you food, always making sure to let you know he caught it himself. It’s like he has a damn pathological need to show off his skills, to try and prove himself, to prove that he’s better than anyone else. It’s aggravating, even more so now that Lo’ak has made it clear that it’s you that Neteyam has a problem with.

Eventually, Spider and Lo’ak return to their conversation and you pull back, sitting silently between them. You pull your mask off for a brief moment to nibble at the meat. You’re a little irritated to admit that it’s delicious, and you sit back to lean into Spider’s side as you chew at it sullenly.

You’ve just begun to wonder if this night is a total bust altogether when you catch movement out of the corner of your eye. You raise your head, surprised to see the sight of Txetyo stepping towards you.

At your side, Spider and Lo’ak share a look before sitting up straighter.

“Tawtute,” Txetyo greets, nodding his head at you. He casts a single cautious look towards Lo’ak, before focusing on you properly.

He is keeping his voice purposely low so that no one else can hear, but you can’t bring yourself to care. This is the most public setting that any man has ever actually approached you in, and you can feel your expression brightening already.

“Hello.” You murmur, smiling sweetly at him. The last time you had seen him had been right after you had fled the tsahik’s hut, right after you had touched Neteyam– and no, you are not thinking about that right now.

“I would like to speak with you.” Txetyo murmurs, his voice low as he darts one more quick look between Lo’ak and Spider before settling on you again.

You brighten. You’re under no illusions about what Txetyo wants to ‘speak’ about, and you can safely assume that there will be little to no talking involved at all.

Yes. A distraction. This is exactly what you need.

“Sure.” You say, your lips curving up in a coy smile as you unfold yourself from where you’ve been sitting between Spider and Lo’ak.

“Uh–” Lo’ak starts to say, but you’re already beginning to step away with Txetyo, who’s beginning to lead you away from the gathering.

Maybe it’s a little impulsive, but you’re feeling reckless tonight. You can still feel Neteyam’s eyes boring into your back as you follow Txetyo towards the treeline, but you determinedly refuse to look. The celebration should be enough of a distraction to keep him busy and away from you for a while so you can finally get laid.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ

You resist the urge to check the time on your battered old wristwatch as Txetyo slides down your body and repositions himself between your legs.

It feels like such a long time since you’ve hooked up successfully with anyone, with no interruptions, which is probably why you’ve been so affected by all-things-Neteyam recently. You were hoping that this encounter with Txetyo would restore you back to normal, to get rid of all the thoughts of Neteyam’s intense golden stare and pretty face and silken hot cock that are absolutely haunting you.

Yet, so far, the night’s been less than stellar. Txetyo had led you away from the celebrations, and you had to try hard to pretend like you don’t see him looking around compulsively to make sure that no one else has seen him leave with you. You had followed him into the trees, and had brightened up when he took your hand as soon as you were out of sight of the gathering.

Before you knew it, you were on your back on the forest floor with your panties around your ankles and your dress rucked up around your waist as Txetyo loomed over you on his hands and knees.

Txetyo is handsome, and he’s big and strong and he’s not opposed to hooking up with a Sky Person, but he’s not much for conversation and it seems like he’s only really got one thing on his mind. Apparently, your list of criteria might be a little lacking, because Txetyo’s also proving to be woefully bad at sex.

He spreads your legs and buries his face there. You blink at the canopy of glowing foliage overhead, grimacing. Honestly, you’d think that anything tongue-adjacent would feel good against a clit, but that’s just not true. Txetyo seems to have an affinity for moving his tongue rapidly and aimlessly against you, resulting in nothing better than the occasional teasing — definitely by accident.

You shift a little, try to angle your hips so that Txetyo’s mouth is over your clit, but he doesn’t seem to pick up on what you’re attempting to do at all. He just moves his mouth away, jabbing his tongue sort of aimlessly at your left labia.

“Could you– a bit higher–” You say, trying to shift again.

Txetyo’s mouth is rather sloppy against your pussy, but you’re not actually sure what he’s doing down there. He seems to be missing every possible nerve ending that might feel good, which is actually a little bit impressive.

You sigh, and just resign yourself to getting bad head. You let your head thunk back against the mossy forest floor, your legs hanging off of Txetyo’s big shoulders as he hunches between your thighs.

It’s almost imperceptible, but the quiet ‘crack’ of a twig breaking underfoot has your head snapping around in a panic.

Though night has fallen, it’s never truly dark on Pandora. The moss beneath you glows faintly, illuminating the outline of your body as you lay there with Txetyo getting busy between your legs. The trees and foliage around you are similarly phosphorescent, your surroundings all lit up in luminous vibrance.

Pandora’s bioluminescence is beautiful; it also means that you can see Neteyam’s figure all dimly lit up as he leans against the trunk of a tree about fifteen feet away.

Neteyam’s head is cocked to the side as he very obviously takes in the scene before him, his head turning to scan up and down your body. His little luminous freckles are lit up and glowing, and it’s impossible to miss the fact that his golden eyes are fixed on you, so intense that it’s almost breathtaking.

You almost scream. You mean to, but instead you moan, completely by accident, and Txetyo groans between your legs.

You don’t know what to do. You’re gaping at Neteyam, who seems all too content to just watch you, meanwhile Txetyo is totally oblivious. He’s still doing nothing right, but something deep inside you pulses.

Moments later, much to your horror, Neteyam takes a small, tentative step forward. He stands only a few feet away, behind Txetyo and in plain view of you.

Go away! You mouth, staring at him in disbelief.

Neteyam scratches his head, feigning confusion, and then he takes another step forward.

He doesn’t say anything. Why isn’t he saying anything? It’s not the first time he’s walked in on you in a situation like this, but usually by this point he’s started making snarky comments, which in turn makes the men you’re with scramble away from you like you’re diseased.

Your dress is pushed up clumsily around your stomach, exposing your pussy. There’s a man between your legs. You’re in the process of getting fucked and Neteyam is watching, goddammit.

It definitely, absolutely is not hot. And yet… your hips twitch, and your breath hitches.

“That feel good?” Txetyo asks, peering up to grin at you. Your attention is dragged back to him and you blink, dazed.

“Yeah,” You lie. “So good.”

“Mm,” Txetyo hums in satisfaction, slipping two fingers into you. “Good.”

You grunt at the stretch of his thick fingers, breathing deep. His mouth returns, his fingers jabbing kind of aimlessly, but it hardly matters. Your attention is locked on Neteyam, and it’s somehow making Txetyo’s useless attempts feel somewhat invigorating.

“Oh god,” You gasp. You’re so confused. Part of you is still waiting for Neteyam to speak up, to make a sound or to clear his throat. Something. But he just watches on, his pretty eyes dark.

“Mm, so pretty,” Txetyo murmurs from between your legs, still blissfully unaware of your onlooker. “Can I fuck you now, tawtute?”

Despite yourself, you find your eyes darting over to Neteyam. The stupid fucker is still looking, and when he sees that you’ve looked at him his lips quirk. Your whole body flushes deep with heat, and you try to pretend like you aren’t taking direction from him; usually, his appearance would have stopped this entire encounter dead in its tracks. But you’re continuing, and the fact is, you feel as though you need his permission or something.

“Y-yes.” You say.

Neteyam purses his lips, and raises his non-existent brows. Fuck, what does that mean?

“How would you like me to–”

“Just like this.” You blurt. It feels, for some reason, as though you can’t risk Txetyo noticing Neteyam. This is the only way you can see Neteyam without Txetyo noticing him, anyway.

Txetyo shuffles up your body, his bulk dwarfing you. There’s a moment’s struggle as he’s lining himself up against your pussy, groaning low as he pushes into you. The stretch is intense, and a little painful, as always; you never quite get used to the bone-deep satisfaction of that achey biting stretch in your cunt.

The stretch is satisfying, like it always is, but it’s not necessarily special. Txetyo is not as evenly proportioned as he looks, and his cock is smaller than other Na’vi you’ve been with. That is, mostly, a good thing; it means he can fuck you without lube, which you usually have to use to accommodate the shocking stretch of taking a Na’vi cock. It also means that you adjust to having him inside you a little quicker, your muscles easing gradually around the intrusion of his dick.

What is special (or at least unusual) is the fact that Neteyam is still watching. You stare back, maintaining a bewilderingly intense sort of eye contact. Txetyo groans as your cunt clenches down on him, and he lowers his face to bury it in your shoulder; like this, your view of Neteyam is completely unimpeded.

“Ah! You’re so tight,” Txetyo hisses. “This is okay?”

“Yes,” You gasp. “You can move.”

And by God, does Txetyo move. He jerks in and out of you with a complete lack of coordination. You bounce and flop against the luminescent bed of moss beneath you, occasionally throwing a hand over your head to try and anchor yourself to a tree root behind you, just to stay put for a second or two.

Neteyam is undoubtedly amused. He has a hand pressed to his mouth, and the skin around his eyes is scrunched up with mirth. At one point, when Txetyo starts humping into you so desperately that you grunt, wincing, Neteyam doubles over himself completely, laughing silently.

“Oh, oh,” Txetyo groans. “Tawtute, I am going to– you are so tight, so hot inside–"

You smack one of Txetyo’s hands away from where he’d been rubbing determinedly at the side of your vulva. You rub at your clit instead in fast, harsh circles, staring at Neteyam desperately. You don’t actually know what you’re looking for, or what you want him to do… but you want him to do something.

Neteyam reaches down to palm the bulge at the front of his tewng that you hadn’t even noticed until now, and you moan. You rub yourself even faster, attempting to angle your hips in any way that could increase your pleasure from Txetyo. It seems impossible, but you manage to catch one or two good strokes.

“Please, please—!” You gasp, eyes wide as you maintain eye contact with Neteyam over the wide bulk of Txetyo’s shoulders.

Neyeyam moans. It’s low, barely noticeable under Txetyo’s own strangled sounds, but you hear it clearly. Your body seizes up and then you’re coming, gasping high and quick as you drink Neteyam in with your eyes, frozen under Neteyam’s gaze in turn.

“Unnng,” Txetyo grunts as he comes too, thrusting into you through the last shocks of his orgasm.

You barely even blink, your eyes fixed wide open as you tremble, your breaths shaky. Neteyam doesn’t break eye contact either, watching you so damn closely that it feels bizarrely as though he’s watching a show you’re putting on, as though all of this is for him. The worst part is you feel as though you’d be lying if you said it wasn’t.

Neteyam silently turns and slips away through the foliage, and Txetyo flops onto the mossy ground beside you moments later, breathing heavily.

“That was good.” Txetyo sighs, his voice thick with satisfaction.

You don’t reply, still staring at the place Neteyam had disappeared into the trees. You’re partly unable to believe what just happened and partly turned on beyond belief, just knowing it did.

What the fuck?

4K notes View Post

ohdeersthings

3 years ago

YALL HELPED ME FIND IT. 👏🏻😭🥺❤❤

Voice [Katsuki Bakugo x Fem!Reader]

Warning for super angst! This wasn’t requested, but I was in another mood and there needed to be some more angst on here. (adding this in late, but warning for blood)

(I guess I only write for Bakugo now *shrugs* (OoOoOpppppss)) Sorry, I’m latterly and utterly in love with him.

As always, I hope you enjoy the content, and please do send in requests! I’m making my way through them and doing my best to fulfill them all! I love you all.

Side note, I cried writing this.

“Good morning, Bakugo!” you cheerfully greeted. You waved to the boy as he grumbled something under his breath. He walked past you without a care, not even sparing you a glance. But you didn’t care. You bounced after him and fell into step with him, clapping your hands together and never losing your smile. You gazed up at him with practical hearts in your eyes. You couldn’t help it, you had the biggest crush on the biggest jerk in the school. Everyone knew it, even 2nd and 3rd year students. It didn’t bother you, there was no one else to show him any affection. Not at school at least. He had friends, sure, but none of them liked him how you did.

Your heart swelled whenever you saw him in the hallways and you always greeted him, every morning! Your eyes were practically glued on him all day, small sighs of longing leaving your lips. You always attempted small talk with him. He never had much to say, not that he ever gave you responses or answers you were looking for. He usually told you to fuck off or to leave him alone, which you would. You believed in personal space and if he wanted it from you, then who were you to deny him that? Sometimes you brought him and his friends gifts. The most famous one his friends liked to receive were cookies and other baked goods. Though you never spied him taking a bite of any of your homemade snacks, you always showed up with some.

“Did you get the answer to number seven on the homework last night? I didn’t understand it all that well, but I know that you more than likely did. You’re so smart,” you complimented him. You could ramble on forever about how perfect her was. From his intelligence to his defined muscles. You could compliment him on anything he did.

“Would you shut up?” he grunted, seeming to slouch more at your presence. You didn’t seem to let him forget that you were there. He hated how you came around to bug him every morning. He had to hear your voice everyday, talking about something stupid that he didn’t care for. He had tried to ward you off so many times, but you were a persistent leech. He was only happy that you were physically touching him, then he’d really lose it. Kirishima and Kaminari told him that it was just a little crush, nothing to make a fuss about, that it would pass. He was ready to blast their heads off because obviously they had been wrong. Mina had said that you had to be “hard core in love with him” and that was why you were so persistante. Well he wanted nothing to do with it!

You shut up immediately, nodding your head. You followed him all the way to class, making your way happily to your seat. You were stopped when you heard your name though and turned, smiling to the group of friends seats in the middle of the room. “Good morning, Kaminari!”

He smiled at you, but not in that flirty way he had. He was so nice to you, you assumed that it was mostly because of those cupcakes you made. He was by far the biggest fan of your baking skills and he always wanted more. “Got any treats for us today?”

“Afraid not, but I can bring some in tomorrow if you really want some,” you beamed, clapping your hands together. His smile widened and if he could hug you, he probably would. The only thing stopping him was a row of desks. He sent you a thumbs up with a shining smile. “That’d be great!”

You felt yourself get all bubbly inside. You did a little dance before continuing to your seat and unpacking your supplies. Once situated, you opened your sketchbook and started on a new drawing. You always drew in class, it was a lot more productive to you. You could listen to the lesson and keep your hands occupied. It made perfect sense to you, though you were sure Aizawa sensei wouldn’t agree. It was part of the reason why you hid your work from him and from everyone else, and made it look like you were taking notes. The other reason you hid your artwork from everyone was because the entire sketchbook, save for one or two pages, was all full of Bakugo. You couldn’t help yourself, he was just so gorgeous and handsome. He was a work of art himself, and you wanted to capture that. You did, everyday. You worked so hard on every sketch, pouring your heart into every line and shade spot. It was now to the point you didn’t have to look at him for reference, you knew every detail of his face from memory. You swore to yourself it wasn’t weird, really. You just had such a huge, mega crush on him.

Class went by as usual. Aizawa taught some stuff and slept, your classmates worked, and you drew Bakugo. There were no interruptions throughout the entire day. Lunch went pretty smoothly. Your friends started the same spiel about liking such a hot head, “especially one that doesn’t like you” they’d say, and how you needed to get over him. This was because they swore that he would either never acknowledge your huge crush on him and act on it or he would find someone he does like and leave you in the dust. Either way, they were afraid you were going to be crushed. Their pleads fell upon your deaf ears, though, as you were always dead set on Bakugo and no one seemed to be able to change your mind.

When the end of the day finally rolled around, you were at your locker making an exchange. There were a few supplies you needed to restock on and a few books you could return to the library. Both needed to be done as soon as possible, and you were planning on getting it all bought up and returned before you went home that evening. The halls were clearing fast, as no one wanted to be at school when they could be playing video games or listening to music or doing anything else. You closed your locker and spotted the ash blonde making his way to the exit. You felt your smile widen.

“Oi! Bakugo! Wait up!” You called after him. He didn’t, but you caught up to him anyway. You slowed your pace once coming to his side and giggled. “Didn’t you hear me? I want to walk with you!”

Oh, he heard you! He always heard you! Your voice always made alarms go off in his head, telling him that he needed to be ready for whatever word vomit you were about to throw at him. He always found it easier to ignore you than to start yelling at you, (1) because you weren’t worth the sore, scratchy throat, and (2) because you weren’t leaving him alone. He was endlessly annoyed by your voice, which sucked because he couldn’t help but growl every time he heard it. You could be 20 feet across the room, laughing with your friends, and he would get this cloud of annoyance laid over him like a blanket. He hated it, and he was pretty sure he hated you.

You were holding your sketchbook to your chest, your backpack too full of everything else to hold it. You didn’t mind, though, as you loved carrying it close to your heart. Your art was like a piece of you, and it always made you smile. Even if you were having a bad day, going through your work was always uplifting. Or just doodling made you the happiest girl in the word.

“So, are you planning on doing anything fun?” you giggled.

“I’m going home, and if you follow me there, I won’t hesitate to blow your ass up,” he muttered coldly.

You laughed, not exactly finding his threats or insults funny, but rather cute. He glared at you for laughing at him, looking away sharply. He stuffed his hands into his pants pockets with a huff, actively ignoring you more - if that were even possible. He knew he shouldn’t have said anything to you, but he wanted to make it clear that he did not want you knowing where he lived.

Your burst of laughter stopped when you tripped on a rock in the middle of the sidewalk. You hit the ground rather hard, scraping up your knees and hands. Your sketchbook feel from your grasp as you went to catch yourself, and it fell open on the concrete. And Bakugo couldn’t help but to look at it, and he stopped dead in his tracks. He felt as though he blood was running cold and boiling at the same time, because staring back up at him was a drawing of himself. He was horrified, realizing that this was what you did all day rather than play an active role in classes. He picked up the book with lightning fast speed and flipped through it. One after another was a drawing of him. His face, his eyes, his hair, all of it was drawn with such precision and accuracy. He fucking hated it.

“It’s worse than I thought,” he grumbled, looking at you with full rage in his eyes. “You’re a stupid stalker bitch!”

You looked at him, down on your knees and feeling the seething pain of blood soaking into the sidewalk from your skin. You shook your head, waving your hands around viciously. “I’m not! I swear!”

“Then what the fuck is this!?” He couldn’t stop yelling. He felt violated almost, his opinion of you drastically changing from annoying kid with a school girl crush to crazy stalker who wouldn’t leave him alone.

“I just couldn’t help it,” you told him, standing to your feet. The blood started running down your legs, but you didn’t care. You reached for the sketchbook, but he held it over your head where you couldn’t reach it. “Please, give it back!”

“Like hell I would!” he shouted in your face. He stepped away from you, taking the book in both his hands. He suddenly set off tiny explosions, burning the surface and everything within the pages. It felt like something inside of you died the moment he did that. He threw it at your feet as tears started pooling in your eyes. “You need to leave me the fuck alone! I don’t like you, not even a little bit! If I could have it my way, you wouldn’t even be here, you hear me?! So just fuck off and stay out of my life, ‘cause I don’t need stalker extras like you dragging me down! And if I find out you draw me one more time, I’ll make sure you won’t be able to draw anything ever again!”

You picked up your sketchbook, that now looked like it had gone to Hell and come back to your. Your blood seeped into the cover and a few pages. You could only stare at it as you let silent tears fall. You gripped it tightly, your knuckles turning white. Bakugo was already walking away from you, but you couldn’t stop your voice before you could think.

“You really think you’re gonna become a hero acting like such a jerk!? You’re a monster! A horrible one! I promise you, I won’t draw you again! I never want to see you again!” You turned and ran away from him, tearing blurring your vision. He had destroyed something so close to your heart, something that defined you. It wasn’t him, it was your drawings. Everything else, you weren’t so good at, but drawing and baking was all you had. Everything else amounted to nothing, and he had just plummeted your dreams of love.

Bakugo had stopped when he heard the first thing you said. It didn’t hit him as hard as being called a monster, though. It shook him, but he didn’t let it show. He turned, half expecting to see you running to him even though he had heard you run away. But all he saw was your blood sprinkled on the ground where you had fallen. Nothing else of you remained and he felt a weird panging in his chest, like he had just stabbed himself in the heart.

The following morning, he didn’t hear your voice at all. You weren’t in the hall to greet him nor in the classroom. He didn’t see your smiling face anywhere and your friends were huddled in a corner talking to themselves. He didn’t think twice about it, as he were sure you had told them everything that had happened. How he burnt your book and about how much of a monster he was. He had stayed up all night thinking only one thing.

“How can I become a hero if I’m a monster?”

He sat down in class without a word. Even when his friends spoke to him, he didn’t even look at them. He didn’t say anything to them. He didn’t even really pay attention to the lesson. All he had running through his head was the look of pure pain on your face and the words you screamed at him. He was slowly realized that he hated your voice when you said those words, because they had been filled with hurt and hatred. It wasn’t like the loving and sweet voice you used when greeting him and telling him about your passions. He missed that voice. So. Damn. Much.

When lunch break came, he marched up to Kaminari and demanded his phone. “Dude, you have your own!”

“JUST GIVE IT TO ME, DAMMIT!”

Kaminari didn’t object again. He nearly slapped the device into Bakugo’s open hand and watched him with curiosity as he scrolled through the contacts list.

When Bakugo found your name, it had a cute flower emoji beside it. His heart filled with despair as he hit the call button beside it and held the phone to his ear. Each ring made his stomach clench, but it was the cut off that made it drop. You had sent him (Kaminari) to voicemail, where your bubbly voice filled his eyes.

“I missed you, but I promise to call you back later! If it’s important, leave a voicemail!” There was the beep, signalling the beginning of the message recording. He felt himself inhale sharply, and he held it for a few seconds. Those seconds suddenly felt like minutes as he realized he only had a short amount of time to say what he wanted to say.

“(name),” he paused for a moment, bowing his head shamefully as he felt his throat become sore and scratchy, “I’m sorry.”

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ohdeersthings

3 years ago

The scarf alone 🥺🥵😍

Katsuki Bakugou icons

like/reblog if you save please

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ohdeersthings

Oh Deer Oh Deer

24/she,her/ Here for a fun time not a long time

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Stoop I'm Hurting Right Now 😭 Let Them Have Their Love

A Long Way Home pt.3

More Posts from Ohdeersthings and Others

"Eh? The hell is this?" Katsuki Bakugou huffed, picking up a red envelope off his desk. It had a pink heart to seal it shut, but no name was signed or any hint to who it came from was seen anywhere.

"Ooooo, looks like Bakugou got a confession," one of his lackys teased, although he quickly straightened up when Bakugou glared in his direction.

Opening the letter, he noticed it was a note addresses to him, and it was, of course, a confession.

The note ended, still not giving away who it was.

"EH? WHAT A PIECE OF SHIT. WASTING MY FUCKING TIME, DUMBASS EXTRA!" Bakugou shouted, blowing up the note with his quirk.

Huffing, he grabbed his bag and stormed out the door, his lackys quickly following, wondering where he was heading so suddenly.

~

(Y/n) exhaled, leaning against the tree and was about to give up hope as it was already fifteen past last class, when she heard someone yell at her, "Hey! Crazy Bitch! Did you write that stupid note on my desk,"

Turning, she couldn't help but smile at Bakugou who was glaring at her, rushing up to her. Cheeks flushed as she nodded, looking up at him through her eyelashes.

"Y-yes, I'm (L/n) (Y/n), I just wanted to tell you, t-that," But she was cut off by Bakugou setting off his quirk next to her face, making her flinch back with wide eyes.

●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●

Currently, she stood in front of a floor length mirror, taking a mirror selfie to post on her Instagram to hype up her fans for her performance tonight at the Hero Gala. A get together/dinner of sorts for all Heros, and (Y/n) had been asked to perform for the Heros and she happily agreed.

Smiling at the picture, she posted it

"Can't wait to perform for our Pro Heros tonight! #IsThisReal? #MusicForTheSoul #YouAreEnough "

Placing her phone on her desk, she gazed out the window into the early afternoon sky. Even though she had to leave soon to get ready, she still enjoyed simple moments to calm her down before a performance. 'Tonight is gonna be amazing,'

~~

Elsewhere, at U.A High School, class 1-A, now grown up to 3-A is getting ready to dismiss for the day. Aizawa had gone through all their basic materials for the day, and was hoping to go home for a nap, today wouldn't be the case though.

"Alright, settle down," Aizawa coughed out, his quirk activating to scare them into silence. Even after all these years it still worked.

"Forgot to mention it to you, but you all have class tonight," he smirked, knowing how to get under their skin. Protests broke out among the students, each complaining about one thing or another.

Questioning faces now looked at him, all wondering what he meant.

The boys, now young adults, all sat there in disbelief. Except for Aoyama who jumped up and spun out the door, "I must get ready! I need to look magnifique~"

"Alright guys! Let's show them how awesome and manly us future Pros are!" Kirishima grinned, his shark teeth on display as he grabbed his bag, standing up with the rest of the boys who shook off the shock.

"Yeah yeah, whatever shitty hair," Bakugou grumbled, aggravated at the thought of being on display tonight like a doll. "Come on Kaachan it won't be so bad," Midoriya smiled, but was shaking at the thought of being in public, with all those Pros.

"Pfft, whatever Deku. Let's just get this shit over with," with that the boys headed out.

~~

"Oh my gosh! Guys! You'll never guess who is performing tonight!" Hagakure squealed, her baby blue dress showing off her body but no one could see her. "Ooh~ Who?" Mina questioned, turning her head to look at her friend.

They were all loading into the bus, some of them dressed to the nines in dresses and suits. Others just wore their costumes.

"(L/N) (Y/N)! The super pretty teen idol! I just saw her post on Instagram," Momo smiled, "She must be excited to perform, her voice is truly beautiful,"

"Really~~ A super hot teen idol will be there~~I wonder if she'll give me chills~~" Mineta drooled, shaking as his thoughts wandered. "Do we have to take him?" Mina glared as Sero taped him up, Tsuyu knocking him out with her tongue.

Bakugou only listened, slightly surprised at the name. 'Why does that name sound familiar? Stupid shitty extras' he thought, frowning.

"Kaachan are you okay?" Midoriya asked, Kirishima also popped into the conversation too. "Yeah dude, your face is gonna get stuck like that,"

"Deku, why does that name sound familiar? Do we know them or something?" Bakugou questioned, arching his eyebrow at the green haired boy.

Bakugou clicked his teeth, eyebrows furrowed together, "SHUT UP! WE GET IT DAMMIT" he seethed, teeth grinding as his aggravation went sky high.

"You know, you may wanna get all that aggression out before we get there," Kaminari smirked, looking smug as it caused another rise out of Bakugou.

Todoroki looked at them and then to Midoriya who was still muttering, "should I get my rage out too??" He questioned, tilting his head as Tokoyami shook his head in disbelief that his classmates still acted like this.

~~

Standing in one of the dressing rooms offered to her, (Y/n) couldn't help but giggle and twirl in her new dress. Not one to dress up this fancy, even for a performance, it actually felt amazing.

Hair let down, falling to its natural length in soft waves that had been curled a few moments ago. Natural makeup with some glitter and highlighter allowed the lights and her quirk to really make her dazzling (e/c) eyes shimmer.

Humming a small tune as she turned to the mirror to do a last check up, she couldn't help but let the warmth of her quirk over flow as it surrounded her. It was almost like a hug, comfortable and tight, but warm and inviting. The goldish-white hue making the room seem that much more heavenly.

A knock at the door interrupted her, "come in," she called, her glow starting to fade out as an older woman entered. A clip board in hand as she greeted the young idol.

"Hello there! My name is Izumi Moi, are you ready? The Heros are arriving so I thought you might wanna mingle before your big performance, which by the way I'm a huge fan," Moi gushed, bowing in greeting.

for tonight?" Moi questioned, (Y/n) shook her head, "Not really, I love to perform!" Moi smiled in understanding, 'Ma'am, the Hero Class from U.A has arrived,' came a voice from Moi's watch.

(Y/n)'s eyes widened. Knowing very well who was in the class, having followed the news and over the years had fundraisers and charity events for those affected by the LOV attacks. 'Okay now I'm starting to freak out,' she shivered, suddenly feeling a cold sweat break out as the nerves hit her.

(Y/n) nodded and walked in, breathing to calm herself down. Looking around the room she could see some of the Pros taking notice of her and smiling excitedly. They know of her work and respected it.

Mt.Lady came right up to her, not taking a second to let her excitement flow, "Oh my goooossh. It's so nice to meet you, your voice and acts of Heroism are truly inspiring," Mt.Lady took (Y/n) hands into her own, a bright smile on her face.

"Thank you! It's a pleasure to meet you too! By the way, I loved your last interview with Midnight. You two never fail to make me laugh," (Y/n) giggled, finally feeling the nerves slipping away from this warm conversation.

Moving across the room, (Y/n) interacted with all kinds of Heros. Her favorite had to be Fatgum whi offered her favorite candy which she couldn't resist, she even offered a smile to Suneater who gave a weak smile back for hiding his face with his hood.

"NO WAY," a voice broke through (Y/n)'s ears as she turned toward the voice, seeing a group of teens standing there. Offering a smile and a nod in acknowledgement, she waved them over. A girl who was all pink and a floating blue dress bolted over, leaving the others in the dust cloud.

"Hello there, you must be the infamous Class 3-A," (Y/n) spoke first, knowing if the other two girls did she might be stuck for a while. "You know us?" A girl with brown hair and chubby pink cheeks asked, pointing to herself.

"Of course! I've followed the news on your class, it must be hard fighting all those villains so I hope you truly get to relax and have fun tonight," poised with a smile, the idol unknowingly made them all feel warm inside.

"(L/n)-chan, it's good to s-see you," came a voice from behind the girls, making them turn and see the boys standing. Midoriya smiled sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Its alright, just please keep him occupied," (Y/n) sweatdropped, a sheepish grin taking a hold of her lips. Turning to resume taking to Midoriya, she locked eyes with the one person she wished she hadn't.

Bakugou Katsuki.

They held eye contact, neither one wanting to look away first. Bakugou had recognized her, the shy girl from middle school. The one he had told that she'd never be enough for him.

He'd done some growing these past years, learning how he should behave. He knew what he said was rude and childish, his ego filled self seeing her as a weakling. Useless and not needed.

However, seeing her again, hearing all the things she's done to help people without being a Hero. Serving the civilians through actions and words.

He was the first to look away, gritting his teeth in annoyance at his own thoughts.

"I see you haven't changed," her voice was like a knife cutting through the silence that seemed to swallow just the two of them.

He didn't sat anything, choosing to keep himself quiet. "Ms.(Y/n) it's time to go," Moi's voice sounded, (Y/n) nodding and turning to leave. Yet she looked over her shoulder back to Bakugou and left him with some simple words.

"We'll see who'll never be enough,"

~~

I'm trying to hold, my breathe

Let it stay this way

Can't let this moment end

You set off a dream in me

Getting louder now

Can you hear it echoing

Take my hand, will share this with me

Cause darling without you

Her voice flowed without the need of a microphone. Honey smooth and silky, everyone in the audience looking on in awe at the beautiful and enchanting girl. When the music suddenly began to play bolder, her voice following the music.

All the shine of a thousand spotlights

All the stars we steal from the night sky

Will never be enough

Never be enough

Bakugou felt his heart stop.

Towers of gold are still too little

These hands could hold the world

"Really A super hot teen idol will be thereI wonder if she'll give me chills~~" Mineta drooled, shaking as his thoughts wandered. "Do we have to take him?" Mina glared as Sero taped him up, Tsuyu knocking him out with her tongue.