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tiredmamaissy · 8 days

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Ralak te Sepawn ieyk’itan: Special Episode V

Something is Brewing

Masterlist ; Rut/Heat/Knotting Info

🔞 minors, do not interact 🔞

Hyperlinks are attached to specific paragraphs that when clicked on will lead you to its illustration by Ralak's insanely talented creator @zestys-stuff. Thank you so much for allowing me to play around with your characters!

Characters: Metkayina!Ralak (25) x Sully!Omaticaya!Reader (20)

Warnings: explicit pregnancy smut, pregnancy fluff, pregnancy angst [for the plot], pregnancy [this chapter is entirely about pregnancy if you haven't caught my drift, just giving you guys a proper warning], age gap, mood swings, cravings, nausea, vomiting, reader is very clumsy, intimate/invasive medical treatment, rut cycle, sexual tension, pregnant sex, p in v, titty fucking, cum eating (m and f), oral sex (m and f), masturbation, exhibitionism (kinda, not really), lactation kink

Word Count: 17.5k (this takes the cake, i apologize)

Requested: Yes || No

Author’s Note: Hey guys! Thank you all for being so patient with me as usual. I had planned to post this chapter earlier, but with the help of @zestys-stuff, we made a last minute change to the chapter. This will definitely cause some changes in the next chapter, so I’m going to work on that right away. I won’t lie, I’m really nervous to publish this one. It's been a while and I’ve ventured into some new territory where I’ve introduced a couple of new themes and -drumroll- a new character. There are parts of this chapter that can possibly cause discomfort (technically, all of this could), so I urge you guys to proceed with caution and click off if you do feel uncomfortable in any way. Aside from that, it’s good to be back (again, lol) and I hope you enjoy!

Synopsis: A timeline of your pregnancy with Ralak’s child, shown through a series of flashbacks of your most prominent milestones—some of which foreshadow something bigger to come…

<- Previous -> Next

Pregnancy is tough.

A beautiful blessing, but tough nonetheless. With its own set of hardships, uniquely tailored to your own being. If it’s not one thing, it’s another. A sore back, chest, ankles…the list is seemingly endless. The shift in moods, the fatigue. Adjusting to an entire new being growing inside you—one that sucks the nutrients straight from your bones and blood—has your body overcompensating.

At first it was a dream.

No life-changing symptoms. It was smooth sailing for the first few weeks. Life went on as usual. If anything, others were more reactive to your pregnancy than you were. Your skimwing became aggressive towards Ralak, snapping at him and whipping her tail, treating him as a threat rather than a companion. He was more than understanding, as it’s common for the protective instinct to kick in when the tsurak senses their rider is with child.

More importantly, it was an urge that Ralak shared with the beast.

—

You watch as your tendrils intertwine with your skimwing, and how they come together with a rough tug. You let out a rugged breath and the beast beneath you starts to writhe. Ralak instinctively grasps at the harness to steady you and—

Slash.

Your trsuak whips her spiked tail at your mate, who blocks it with his strake.

“Shit.” You gasp, tugging at the leather strap and patting her neck to subdue her. “I thought I was in control. Are you alright?”

Ralak nods, his hair now soaked and plastered to his chest. He simply chuckles, respectfully and cautiously approaching the beast with an open hand. Despite this, your tsurak continues to thrash, repeatedly snapping her snout open and shut. Ralak clicks melodically a few times, and her pupils blow and constrict as she calms down. He strokes her snout with one hand, and lays his other on your thigh, gripping it lightly.

“She senses that you are with child.”

“She does?”

“Yes. That is why she protects you. I understand the feeling.” His accent is thick on his tongue.

——

Then the nausea came. It was… unbearable. Insufferable. It was almost frightful, actually. Not being able to stomach anything really brought down a sense of dread upon your shoulders. Most days, you found yourself worried about the budding life inside you more than yourself.

Was he getting enough? Would he develop properly if you went another day without eating?

Ralak was more worried about you, of course. Going to great lengths to find something you could stomach. Spoon feeding you as you laid down all day from the gut churning nausea. Washing the sick out of your hair when you missed the bucket at your bedside. Detangling and braiding it for you to keep it clean and out of your face. Releasing his pheromones—your only relief—just to put you to sleep at night.

—

t.w. nausea, vomiting.

In the crisp night, a wave of nausea washes over you, waking you from your sleep. Typically, this is the only time you have a break from the nausea—your slumber. That, and the first ten minutes after throwing up.

You quickly hurl over, grabbing and heaving into your bedside bucket, something that's rightfully earned its spot at your side. Ralak jolts awake, sitting up behind you to gather your hair into his fist, rubbing your back as you retch.

“Alrigght.” He hums lengthily. “Get it up.”

Finally, you stop. You gasp and pant for air, sitting up only to collapse back into him. “I h-hate this–haah.”

“I do, too.” He grits, reaching over you for the rag at your bedside, and wiping your mouth.

He hates seeing you so sick. He’s tried it all, and though he’s found a few foods that you can stomach, nothing seems stops the nausea. Well, that’s not entirely true.

Ralak relaxes his body, focusing on opening his scent glands to release his his pheromones. They slowly become stronger, calming you down and dulling the waves of nausea. He pulls you close to his warm body, reaching behind him for his kuru.

“Tsaheylu.” He whispers yearningly, making the bond slowly. He sets a steady breathing pattern, slipping his hand over your tiny bump to caress it. The sickening feeling eases up enough for you to drift back to sleep, Ralak along with you.

——

Thankfully, Eywa lifted you of your säspxin [sickness] when you were about to come upon your third month of pregnancy. Cravings increased ten-fold almost instantly. On the occasion where you couldn’t keep it down—when the desperation was too much—you’d volunteer Ralak to eat it for you so that you could satisfy the craving vicariously through him.

—

“Eywa, that’s so good. One more bite.”

“Tanhí. Enough now.” He grumbles, feeling overly stuffed and almost queasy.

You glance down at the purple hue of your connected kurus.

“Please...” Your eyes burn as they threaten to well with tears, and your bottom lip quivers, “…last one, promise.”

Ralak sighs, shoveling in another bite of boiled squid, chewing it slowly so you can savor the taste. You keep your eyes closed as he eats, tongue swirling in your mouth to swish your pooling saliva in your cheeks. And when he swallows, you swallow too, gulping down your spit.

“Thank you.” You say shyly as you open your eyes, feeling bad for making him overeat now that you can really feel his fullness.

It is my pleasure. Never feel bad. His accented voice tickles your brain. A smile spreads across your face, just as one does on his.

——

And when you could keep it down, they were delightful when satiated. Keyword being satiated. It posed an issue when they were what Ralak called, ‘forest food’, or on a more rare occasion—‘sky people food’. Those were the insatiable ones. The ones he couldn’t just whip up for you. The times he'd come to you with his ears laid flat to his skull, admitting his defeat. Those were the moments where you felt something stronger than just disappointment.

It left you gutted.

—

You can’t stop the tears from flowing down your cheeks. They’re hot and leave a sticky film on your skin, clumping your eyelashes together. It’s stupid. They’re stupid. Stupid tears, from a stupid cause. All because you want your grandmother’s stupid soup. Another thing the blessing of pregnancy has bestowed on you—big, intense feelings.

As you soak in your bath, Ralak cooks dinner and you just know that whatever is in the pot is something that will make your stomach churn. You bury your face in the palms of your hands, trying to keep your snotty sobs to a minimum. It’s ridiculous, sobbing over something like this. It’s shameful, even. How can you be so ungrateful when this man goes to such lengths to care for you?

“Tanhì!” You hear his rough voice echo from the pod.

You quickly wipe your face clean, and scramble for your loincloth and top, slipping them back onto your body. Finally, you fix your hair and force a smile to your face. As you get up to the marui, you’re met with the sight of Ralak stirring the soup pot over the firepit. Then the smell hits you. Typically the first thing to set off your nausea to begin with. It smells like—

Grandmother’s soup.

You stare at your mate wide eyed, taking a deep breath to savour it in your lungs. Outside of Ralak’s scent, nothing has smelled this good in months. And you swear you can already taste it on your tongue, the savoury flavour with the sweet aftertaste.

“I asked your mother. Hope that is okay.” Ralak speaks casually as he serves you a bowl.

As you let out a harsh breath, your eyes burn as the tears come back with a vengeance. You sniffle once, twice—thrice, whimpering quietly as they roll down your cheeks. Ralak looks up at you, concern and honestly a smidge of confusion fixed to his face. Putting the bowl down, he stands and comes over to you, enveloping you in his arms.

“I do not like to see you cry.” He hums, kissing the crown of your head. “Is it the smell? I will make you something different.”

“N-No, no. It’s… it smells great. I’m sorry. I—I” You sputter, burying your face into his chest.

“Then what is it, tìyawn [love]? What do you need?” Ralak cups your face and gently tilts your head upwards so he can look you in the eyes. “Tell me and it is yours.”

“Thank you.” You croak, feeling your bottom lip curl over and kiss your chin. Now his facial expression is just pure confusion. He tuts in a comforting manner, pulling you back in close to his chest as he waits for you to settle, rocking side to side.

“Alright, my little one. Shh–shh.”

——

Soon after, that soup pot made quite an appearance. It became your favourite dish, your favourite craving. Ralak made it just like grandmother, for the most part. There were a few omaticayan herbs missing, but outside of that it tasted like…home. At that point, you felt like you had this pregnancy thing down pat and could return to a semi-normal life.

Everything was relatively the same, except a few obvious things—your growing bump and lack of heats. That was also a blessing, not having to go through a torturous heat every month. Though, you couldn’t say that for Ralak.

As you neared the end of your third month of pregnancy, his pheromones grew stronger, wafting by you at random times of the day. At first you thought he was just doing it for you. Or, perhaps it was your heightened sense of smell.

But the day came when his scent was so potent, it was as if it had stained your lips. There wasn’t a moment where you couldn’t smell the scent of your mate under your nose. That was the night you realised it was out of his control. That it was his rut coming. That was the night you confronted him at the bonfire.

The night he looked at you like you were something to eat.

—

Right…there.

You catch the flicker of his eyes just before he lowers his head, shifting to that deep shade of blue. He keeps stealing a glance or two. Maybe even three, or more. It’s hard to keep count when he’s looking at you like this.

is piercing eyes, sultry and alluring, tempting you to crawl through these roaring flames just to get to him quicker. His demeanour. His stance and posture. His domineering leer. Whatever he—or his body—is doing, is working.

He sits on the boulder, elbow perched on one thick thigh and a hand propped on the other. His hair covers his chestpiece, curled ends barely brushing against his defined ribcage. His bioluminescent freckles dance under the moonlight, his turquoise skin almost golden from the cast of the fire. It’s all so intimidating. He’s exuding dominance, practically looming over you despite him being seated. But there’s something about his aura, something darker.

“I can feel it, you know.” You speak casually, uncrossing your legs.

Ralak’s eyes snap up, boring into yours. He cocks a brow, keeping his eyes locked on you as you stand and walk towards him.

“Your rut. It’s close, isn’t it?”

This would be your first, real rut with him. Without the influence of your own heat. Ralak huffs a sigh, his eyes falling to the small bump that’s in his direct line of sight. Ralak watches as it seemingly grows bigger the closer you get.

“You are showing.” His hands gently rest on your lower abdomen. Holding his shoulders, you slowly straddle him.

“Answer me.” You whisper as you cup his face, tilting it upwards to make him look at you. “I want to be with you… and before you say it—” Ralak grits his teeth as he turns his head away, out of your hands.

“No.”

“Ralak. I am your mate.” You retaliate through tight lips. You knew this would pose an issue.

“Y/n.” He growls, turning his head to look you in the eyes. “You know my rut. Must I remind you that you are with child? It is final.”

“I do know, and that’s why I won’t let you go through that alone, ever again.” Though your voice is stern, he can hear the tenderness in it. That this comes from a place of concern and love.

“I will not be in control.” Ralak admits as he shakes his head firmly, flicking his gaze back down to your belly.

“Look…I made a plan.” You basically confess that you’ve been conjuring up ideas on how to endure this together all day. Although his eyes and hands remain fixed on your tummy, Ralaks ears perk up. He’s listening.

“How do you feel about…being tied up?”

Now you’ve got his attention, eyes snapping up to meet yours. The idea of being tied up isn’t entirely foreign to him. It’s something that his people use as a punishment for those who do wrong. He’s not opposed to it. Having a rut so intense is probably something to be punished for, anyways.

“Hands behind your back…bound to the marui stilt. I will be the one in control. I will take care of you.”

You take his hands from your stomach and tuck them behind his back, your face now millimeters from his. Ralak fights the urge to kiss you. To free his hands from his back to grab your hips and shove your further down onto his growing bulge.

“...feed you…water you…bathe you.” Your voice falters as you swallow your spit. “...fuck you.”

“...that so?” He whispers against your lips, heart thudding wildly behind his ribcage.

You look in his eyes, and see that they tremble with constraint. He can’t hide it, the look on his face gives it away. He’s really struggling to think straight. To keep his answer as a firm no. And it doesn’t help that he’s on the cusp of his rut. He yearns to accept. Every fibre of his being wants this–wants you. You see it in his eyes, as they flicker like the flame behind you.

He just needs a little push.

“We’ll take it slow…gently.” You roll your hips into him and feel his cock straining against his tewng. You lean in close, lips brushing against his as you speak into his mouth. “And, if anything happens… we’ll stop. No knotting.”

His ears twitch. He’s considering it. Really, actually considering this. But how could he? How could he expect this of you in your state? He squeezes his eyes shut, frustrated and conflicted. And aroused. So fucking aroused that when he feels your lips drag against his cheek, your tongue tasting the lobe of his ear…your breathy whisper, “Pänutìng [Promise].”, he lets out a heated, shaky breath of defeat. Of surrender.

That seals the deal.

—

Not now. Not yet. Ralak thinks to himself, fighting his urges.

The urge to mate—to pin you down and drive himself inside you. He must remain in control. For you. For your unborn. He sits on the floor, slumped against the stilt of the marui, bowed shoulders and a heavy, hung head. His skin, flushed, and eyes swollen—glowing a vibrant mauve. His hair haphazardly sticks to his sweltering skin as his hands lethargically twiddle with the braided twine behind his back.

Groggy, you strain to open your eyes and quickly scan your surroundings. Ralaks pheromones cloud the room, engulfing you with their overpowering scent. As you sit up, the bed creaks and Ralak lifts his head, allowing it to flump limply back into the stilt. Extra lidded eyes and tensed brows, he breathes through his mouth. He wills himself to speak, but he’s heavy and sluggish as if he were three bottles deep.

“Ralak.” Your voice is wary and full of concern. Your eyes continue to trail down his body, landing on the undeniable, taut bulge in his loincloth. His cock strains against the fabric, precum completely soaking it through. “How long have you been like this?”

“Few hours.” He croaks out a dry throat.

“And you didn’t wake me?” You hastily make your way behind him, slipping to your knees to take the twine from him.

Fuck. There it is. Your scent...driving him over the edge. Wafting past his nose and making him woozy in the head.

“Tie me.” He demands. For a moment, you’re frozen in place by his tone, unable to move your hands and fingers. “Quickly.”

The edginess in his voice startles you, causing you to fumble with the twine. You take a breath and begin tying the knot as he taught you, weaving the twine with itself, tugging at the ends to close it.

“Tighter.” He snaps at you, making your ears lay flat. You pull the ends even tauter, witnessing the twine pinch the thin skin on his wrists.

“Shit—sorry. Didthat hurt?” You go to loosen the knot, but he pulls at the restraints, making it even tighter.

“Leave it.” He grumbles, tugging yet again, ensuring it’s unyielding.

Because the closer you get, the harder he finds it to resist. He needs to know that he can’t get out—that he can’t hurt you—before he loses it completely. And with that delicious scent seeping from your neck, he feels himself slipping under.

“Are you sure? I can tie you after you drink some water and have a—”

“No...haah—now.” He growls, dropping his head causing the rest of his hair to flow forward and cover his face. “…need you now.”

Blood rushes to your cheeks, heating them up and flushing them over. You can even feel your heart pumping it harder–faster. It’s hot in here, but even hotter now that you feel yourself heating up too. It’s his rut, influencing you like some sort of drug. You can barely control your breathing, much less think straight. But you told him that you’d be the one in control, the one to care for him.

“Mawey, ma’ muntxatan [Calm, my husband].” You whisper close to his ear, giving the knot a final tug. “What kind of mate would I be if I did not care for you first? Hm?”

You shuffle to your feet, and walk away, newly widened hips swaying side to side with temptation. He’s taking in the show through the cracks of space between his clumped together strands of hair, unable to look away no matter how hard he tries. Knowing this, you bend over, lifting your tail to expose your clothed mound to him. You swear you can hear a hiss seep from his lips, and that brings a smile to yours.

Teasing him is one of your favourite things to do.

You scoop up some water into the cup, and bring it over to him. Using two fingers to his chin, you tilt his head back, revealing the famine in his inebriated eyes. They’re glossy with need and desperation, begging you to take his ache away.

“Alright, alright.” You coo softly, sinking back to your knees. “I’m going to make it go away. Now, drink for me.” You bring the cup to his lips, tilting it carefully as he gulps it down thirstily. A few drops dribble down his chin and onto his already glistening chest, rolling down his unflexed stomach.

Tossing the empty cup to the side, you bend forward and lick the beads of water up his stomach, to his throat, to his lips. His arms jerk reflexively, wanting to cup your face as your lips lock with his.

Throwing a leg over his lap, you straddle him, pressing against the bulge in his sticky tewng. You cup his face instead, deepening the kiss to have a taste of the potent desperation on his tongue.

When you pull away, your noses brush against one another and you feel woozy in the head. His rut is beginning to affect you now. Which isn’t all a bad thing if you want to be able to keep up with him for the next couple days.

Your hand smoothes over his jawbone to the nape of his neck, where you gently grip the base of his kuru. His ears immediately lay flat to his head, reddening at just the tips. Running your hand along its length, you bring the end of his kuru in front of him.

“Going to make the bond.” You warn him breathily, bringing forth your queue as well.

At this point, Ralak is huffing for air and sweating profusely. It looks as if he��s nearing his peak already. This only reaffirms that you’re making the right decision by making tsaheylu—you need the direct influence of his tìsom [heat].

When the tendrils intertwine, you come together with a sharp tug and gasp. Instantaneously, you sink into a hazy state, heating up from within. Your breath syncs with his, and suddenly you’re panting too.

“Ralak.” You moan softly, grinding into him for a bit of friction.

You can’t stop your hips from snapping, and your loincloth is almost completely soaked. He throws his head back into the wooden stilt, looking at you through lidded eyes as he lets loose subtle groans. He looks more than hungry. He looks starved.

With trembling hands, you search for the knot of his loincloth at the base of his tail. After a bit of scuffling, you untether it and shimmy his tewng down his hips and off of him. Up springs his aching cock, veiny and swollen. It’s so obviously neglected, glossy and sticky with his slick, so uncomfortably hard that it’s already pulsing as it stands firmly pressed against your clothed cunt.

“Fuck. It’s… even bigger.” You’re taken aback, unsure of how exactly you managed to take this inside you last time he was in rut. Then you notice the red tinge of colour on his cockhead, especially where his ridges stand erect. “D-Does that hurt, karyu?” Bump in the way, you shift your hips back to reveal what exactly you’re talking about. “Need your numeyu to take away the pain?”

The giant remains silent, but his cock jumps in response, oozing out another large bead of precum. Using your pointer finger, you trace the length of his cock, swollen balls to his pointed tip, collecting that fresh bead of slick on the pad of your digit. He watches intently as you pop your finger into your mouth and suckle, swallowing his semi-sweet essence. His brows knit tightly together.

You know this is nothing short of torture to him. And though you have every intention to take the ache away… when would you get another opportunity like this? Where this giant is tied down and unable to resist the pleasure you bring him. Where you’re completely… in control. Fuck, you’ve never felt like this before. It's exhilarating. It’s a feeling of power. Of dominance.

A smirk pulls at your lips.

You begin to pull yourself to your knees, brushing your swollen breasts against his lips. His tongue darts out, eager for a taste. Looking down, you cup one breast with your hand, and guide your stiff nipple into his mouth. His lips pucker over it, closing once they make contact for a vacuum seal.

Your breath hitches when you feel his tongue tickle the sensitive tip of your nipple. His teeth graze against them as he tries to do this handsfree, and you let out a low hiss. Soon his movements grow erratic, being bound to the marui stilt is starting to frustrate him.

“Ah-ah. What do you need, karyu? Just tell me.” Your voice is feigned with innocence. He breathes heavy against your chest, keeping quiet as his focus is purely on getting his fill. “You won’t get anything from them.” You tsk, tugging away little by little, until eventually you pop off his mouth.

You continue to rise to your feet, dragging his lips along your swelling tummy, until he’s eye level to the band of your tewng. You can feel his eyes pierce into you, his stare is anything but discreet. It’s intimidating. Your hand flies to the back of your loincloth, fiddling with the knot to untie it.

“Is it this?”

The cloth drops to your ankles, exposing your flushed cunt to him. It’s pink and hot to the touch, undeniably aroused. Your scent grows stronger with each passing second, filling his lungs. It’s driving him insane—being able to see and smell, but not touch. His rut is only making him more irritable. He just needs to fuck into something and spill himself inside.

His eyes glisten over an even brighter shade of purple, locking onto their meal. He wets his bottom lip with a quick swipe of his tongue as you take a step closer. You cup his jawbone, tilting it upwards to look down at him. The sight is… intoxicating. His lidded eyes, blown pupils that are threatening to roll to the back of his head. Tensed brow bones and damped, slightly parted lips—not a drop of composure left in his features.

That new feeling rushes through you again, making you take two more steps forward. Your bare cunt brushes against the tip of his nose, officially branding it with your scent. He leans into you, closing his eyes and straining his neck to indulge himself.

Your thumb smoothes over his jaw before your hand slips to the back of his head. You fist his hair and yank his head back, sending his eyes flying open. With your free hand, you spread your pussy lips, exposing your swollen clit. It’s sticky and in need of attention, throbbing occasionally as you tug your hood back.

“Now, suck.” You demand breathily, slowly guiding him by the head to bring his lips to your clit.

You clench around nothing when you feel his heated, slippery lips pucker over the stiffened nub, sucking gently. Sharp eyes bore into yours before they roll back, leaving nothing but the whites exposed. Lids finally fluttering closed, he sucks a little harder, tips of his canines accidentally nipping your supple skin.

“Ss—fuck.” You hiss, hips snapping back with force, popping off his mouth with a sharp sting. Frantic fingers rub away the tingling sensation as you grit your teeth. You shuffle your feet to ground yourself as you tighten your grip on his hair and hold his head still.

“I know you’re in rut, but be good to your muntxate [wife].” You warn through your teeth before shoving his face back into your cunt.

This time he feasts with greed, groaning like a starved man. Eating, like a starved man. He’s slurping and sucking, lapping up your slick as it coats his tongue and lips, enjoying every second of your reign.

“Oh—oh shit. Fuck. Right there—” You moan breathlessly, free hand flying to his head to fist his hair, using it as leverage to keep him just where he is.

Before you know it your hips are moving on their own, humping at his face as you hold him tightly with both hands. With each thrust you shove him further back into the stilt, until the back of your hand is repeatedly hitting its surface.

Until you’re hunched over him, looking him deep in the eyes as you grind into whatever part of him your clit is rubbing against. He expertly holds his breath as he allows you full control to fuck his face as if you were the one in heat.

Because with each roll of your hips he feels it too.

He feels the jolt of pleasure that shoots through you when his tongue hits your clit in that special spot. When the tips of his canines graze your swollen folds. The feeling is all consuming and he’s whining into your cunt from the over—and under—stimulation. His cock shifts to a shade of purple, jumping each time you thrust into his mouth.

‘Sorry, Ralak. ‘m sorry.’ You think to him through tsaheylu, feeling the burn in your own lungs now.

“Haa—ah, fuck. Thrust. Fuck. Thrust. F-Fuck! I’m gonna cum—in your—ngh!” Your voice quavers as you come suddenly undone in his mouth, holding him firm and still as you rock your body into him.

His eyes slam shut and his brows knit tightly together as he grunts repeatedly into your cunt. He tugs harshly at his restraints and his heels dig into the woven floor. Yet still, you hold onto him even tighter until your pussy stops fluttering.

With a loud, shaky gasp, you yank him away, letting go of his hair to grab the marui stilt to stop your trembling legs from giving out beneath you. Ralak wheezes loudly, shoulders heaving harshly as he frantically pants for air. His face is bright pink, flushed and glazed in a layer of sweat. He opens his eyes but they’re so heavy that you can barely see the colour in them.

“Rutxe [please].” Ralak begs through a desperate groan, flicking his stare downwards. And when you look, you’re met with the sight of his still-throbbing cock, covered in his sticky, thick cum. Shiney beads still ooze out and dribble down his length and onto his swollen, firm balls.

His first word was a plea of help.

Your heart aches in your chest. How could you let yourself go so far with your little bit of power? To be so selfish. And here he was, in so much discomfort and yet you put your needs first. Leaving him so neglected to the point his body makes the release for him. Is this how he felt after he unleashed six pent up years on you in a couple days?

Pent up years of suffering.

“Shh. You’re okay, my love. You’re okay.” You whisper as you slowly squat down. “I got you. I’m going to make it…” you hold eye contact with him as you lower yourself onto his cock, aligning his tip with your sopping entrance, “…all better now.”

You wince when his cock slowly penetrates you, mewling a little higher with every inch you manage to take. The stretch is almost unbearable. This is the first rut you’ve spent with him without being in heat.

No foggy haze to dull the ache.

No emptiness to be filled.

And it doesn’t help that your womb is already so full.

Your mewl quickly turns into a whimper when your bodies become flush to one another. Ralaks head slumps back into the marui stilt and he heaves a loud, lengthy moan of relief from being buried deep inside your warm cunt. You feel so good around him, making his cock heat up and twitch inside of you.

Snaking your arms around his neck, you hold onto him as you frantically try to adjust to his size. It’s dawning on you exactly what you’ve gotten yourself into, and that you’ve seriously underestimated his rut. A sense of uncertainty begins to tighten your stomach but it quickly dissipates when you hear Ralak’s second plea.

“Rutxe, ma’ tanhì..” Ralak mutters with a pained, gravelly voice.

Without another word, you move your hips up and down, dragging his length along your gummy, slick walls. Your movements are sloppy and uncoordinated, you’re not used to doing most of the work much less all of it. With his hands tied behind his back, you can already feel the burn in your thighs and the throb in the tips of your toes.

Regardless, you keep moving your hips.

Bouncing up and down on his cock, pressing your forehead into his in a poor attempt to steady your position. That little sting slowly morphs into something of pleasure the more your hips meet his with a slap. And soon all you can hear is smack, after smack, after smack. The noises that split his lips tell you all you need to know. He’s feeling good and that’s all that matters.

But exhaustion hits you quickly—unexpectedly. His cock is buried to the hilt inside you, and the more tired your legs get, the deeper it drills inside you, pressing harshly into your cervix. Your legs are trembling uncontrollably and you can barely catch your breath, leaving you no choice but to lazily rock back and forth on his cock.

Ralak lets out a grunt and bucks his hips.

“Haah!” You yelp.

Ralaks ears lay flat, lips pursed tightly into a thin line. He can’t hold back his frustration any longer. He’s growing impatient. If he didn’t get his real release soon he may really lose it. He’s grunting through his nose and tugging at his restraints, bruising his wrists. You feel him shift his hips up and shove his cock as far as he can inside you.

“Ngh! I-It won’t go any deeper!” Your voice strains as you try to lift yourself up. But he just keeps pushing until his feet are grounded. And then his hips drop, pulling his cock half way out of you.

Thrust.

Ralak slams his cock back inside you, drilling deeper than he was before. Your mouth falls open as all the air is forcefully expelled from your lungs. As you suck in a gasp of air he thrusts inside you again. And again. And again. Until he’s rutting into you in a feverish frenzy, chasing his climax as if it were prey. His thrusts turn relentless, leaving you breathless with each buck of his hips.

“Fuck—fuck—fu—” Your voice bounces with his thrusts.

You look down, met with eyes that are empty yet heavy with appetite. He’s in the thick of it and he’s no longer all there. He’s purely instinct now and the only thing holding him back from pinning you down and having his way with you is the twine wrapped around his wrists.

You can’t lie and say that you aren’t enjoying the look on his face and the break from the burn in your thighs. Stars sprinkle your vision as you’re overwhelmed with the immense pleasure he’s slamming into you. He’s fucking you into submission and you’re mind is borderline blank. His groans are primal and guttural, and they grow louder with each hysteric thrust.

“Want to knot.” He huffs suddenly—desperately. You can feel his thick knot poke and prod at your entrance, his thrusts now sloppy and erratic.

“Fuck, I—” You know you shouldn’t, no matter how hazy his rut is making you feel. “W-We can’t. I’m still ea—rly.” But he’s too busy watching himself fuck you in a daze, drenched with sweat. “Ralak…” You grab his face, tilting his chin upwards so he looks you in the face. His gaze is hollow yet his features are tense. “…are y–ou hear–ing me, la–k?”

“Need to breed.” He growls as he fights against his restraints. He doesn’t ease up on his tussle with the twine, sweating and panting as he desperately tries to force his knot inside you.

“Shit.” You mutter, coming to the quick realisation that he can’t stop himself. “Wait, wait, wait—”

Your hands fall from his face to his stomach, pushing down in a panicky attempt to lift yourself off him. But his rut is making you sluggish and weak, so you make the quick decision to sever the bond with a rough yank.

Snap.

“Oh, fuck.” You curse under your breath.

The twine breaks, and his arms fly forward, hands making impact with your hips, fingernails digging into the thin skin. His grip is unyielding as he holds you down firmly on his cock. You feel him throb inside you as he attempts to plug you full with his knot.

“Lak! Ralak, h-hold on!” As much as you actually want to, you can barely take what’s inside you as it is.

“Submit.” He rasps, top lip curled tight to his teeth, baring his canines.

“I—I’m pregnant.” You whisper quickly, voice hoarse and strained.

Immediately, his movements cease and his eyes flick down to your tiny bump, then widen when he finally realises. In one swift, sudden move, he lifts you off him and uses your swollen pussy lips to hug his cock and finish himself off. He rocks you back and forth like a rag doll at the mercy of undying grip, growling and grunting.

His head drops forward when he outright howls. You look down and witness his mushroomy head pulsating feverishly, spurting out his load in thick ropes, all over his stomach and chest. All whilst his engorged, throbbing knot pulses against your slit as he cums, earning some well deserved comfort and warmth.

Ralak sputters as he tries to catch his breath, hands still glued to your hips. The fog still clouds his mind but it’s less blinding now. He’s just about capable of acknowledging what just happened. To acknowledge that this was risky, and could’ve ended badly. That, if you hadn’t said something to him, he would have knotted you without mercy.

An uncomfortable silence passes between you, where you’re both breathing heavily and staring at one another. You both share the same thought—the same realisation. His rut is too aggressive for you to handle right now.

“I must go.” Ralak looks away as he breaks the silence, wanting to take advantage of his release before the pressure builds yet again. He’s clear headed enough to leave without turning back and pouncing on you.

“No, don’t… we can try again.” You say softly, hand cupping his jawbone, turning him to face you. You feel terrible that he may have to spend this rut alone, that you couldn’t fulfil your promise—your duty as his mate.

“I almost knotted you, y/n.” His eyes gloss over with guilt, his hands finally peeling away your bruised hips.

“But… you didn’t. You stopped yourself—”

“And if I do not leave now… I will.” Ralak growls inches away from your face.

You’re a little taken aback by his bluntness, but you know it’s the truth. And it’s final. No matter what you say. No matter how it makes the flesh between your legs throb a little more. You nod, keeping yourself quiet.

“I will see you in a couple days. I love you both.” Your lips meet briefly before he carries you to bed and readies himself to leave. You watch in silence, murmuring an “I love you, too” under your breath when he exits the marui.

—

As time passed you grew more angsty, unable to keep in one spot or focus on a single task. All that ran on your mind was Ralak and how he was probably suffering all alone. All because you failed to do your duty as his mate. The guilt was almost sickening, having you dry heaving into your bedside bucket a few times for the rest of the day.

Until later that night.

You rub in the thick, oily concoction on your belly, getting ready for bed. The sound of the marui door flapping open startles you, making you jump in your skin and clutch your stomach. You’re not expecting Ralaks return so soon.

A silhouette stands tall at the door, his bioluminescent star pattern unmistakable.

“Ralak? Oh, Ralak. Eywa. You’re back. I should have made dinner. I thought you'd be gone for a while longer. You must be so hungry. You—” You speak urgently, eyes flicking down to his tewng, which is seemingly damp, “—was it too much? …are you alright? Let me help you, lak.”

“Tanhì.” Ralaks cuts you short, voice trembling slightly, yet full of relief. “It is done.”

“…what?” The question is breathy.

“My rut.” Ralak says as he makes his way towards you, scooping up a glob of your special concoction. He sits next to you, and begins massaging it into your back. “You have fixed me.”

You come to the realization that he's talking about his rut finishing earlier than usual—like that of an average na'vi.

“You were never broken, my love.” You moan softly, closing your eyes to enjoy the massage.

Ralak then rests his chin on your shoulder, smoothing his hands down your back and around your abdomen—rubbing what's left on his hands onto your swelling belly. His touch prickles your skin, sending the tip of your tail swishing.

“I live for you.” He mutters with a thick accent, nuzzling his face into your neck. “I will die for you.”

Your heart skips a beat when you hear his words, he must have really been suffering for the past six years. You feel your face heat up, and you try to fight the smile balling your cheeks. You opt to drop your head and hide your face instead, resting a hand on his thigh.

“Well. We won’t have you doing that.” You giggle, rubbing his upper thigh as you turn your head to glance at him. “…the last part, that is.”

But he just looks at you, face still as stone. He speaks sternly.

“I will.” He speaks sternly.

You swallow your spit, tempted to drop your head again as you take in the gravity of his two words. You nod, searching his eyes with yours as you close the space between you. You hover open mouthed against his lips.

“Me too.”

——

Time waits for no one.

At least that’s how it felt. You had ballooned overnight, round and a little heavier as you embarked on your sixth month of pregnancy. His kicks grew stronger and more uncomfortable. But it was Ralaks favourite thing to feel before bed.

You found yourself spending most of your days bouncing between your marui and your family’s marui—paying your family visits more often. They grew fond of the idea that there would be an addition to the family and it became a regular thing for you to seek refuge there when Ralak was roped in for his ‘duties’. Which seemed to increase in number the further along you progressed.

Ralak had his daily duties—tending to the ilus, a few lessons, fishing... These were just the simpler tasks that you could say you knew for certain he did. But there were his ‘fkxaranga’ [stressful] duties’, as you liked to call them.

The ones where Tonowari would summon him with nothing else but a simple nudge or glance. The duties that were spontaneous. That stole precious hours of his time. Duties that left Ralak spent and on edge, reaching for his top shelf when he came home. Those were the ones you dreaded the most.

The ones like last night.

——

With a huff, Ralak chucks his gear onto the floor and roughly unclips his chest piece. His pointed tools are covered in some sort of thick, iridescent muck, shifting from green to orange as they rock side to side on the floor. It’s something you’ve been seeing recently with no idea as to what it is.

Ralak grunts, bringing your attention to his lips, which are slightly downturned. The more you take in the sight before you the more it occurs to you how exhausted this man is. His eyes are hollow, ears droopy, tail dragging heavily behind him. His muscles are seized up despite the bow of his shoulders—he looks as if he could use a massage.

“Manga [Hey, you].” You get up to meet him at the door, taking the chest piece out of his hands to hang up on the wooden stand. “Tonowari is working your tail off. Do I need to have a word with that man?”

He only works up a grumble as you lead him over to the bed. “That bad? What is he making you do? Hunt akulas? Eywa.”

Ralak sits down, face sinking into his hands before two fingers slip down to pinch the bridge of his nose. You climb up and settle behind him, huffing and puffing along the way. Your hands smooth over his back, thumbs pressing firmly into his muscles, kneading the flesh until you feel him loosen up.

Though the question sounded rhetorical, he knew it wasn’t. He knows you’re awaiting a response, the silence is loud and clear. You always want to know more about his day, fine details and all. And he’s usually reluctant to speak of it, but insisting it’s nothing for you to worry your head over. But recently, your inquisitivity is… well founded. And he knows it.

“Not quite.” He mumbles wearily into his palm, ears laid flat to his skull–although it wasn’t uncommon for him to encounter an akula or two whilst fulfilling the olo’eyktan’s orders.

You open your mouth to question him further, but you can tell that he’s more than tired. And it didn’t help that you were constantly needing his help, especially now that you’re growing heavier.

Going down the stairs is a struggle considering you can no longer see your own feet or keep your balance. You had been waking him up almost twice a night to help you down the marui stairs just to pee. He’d always be happy to help, though. He understands that this is what comes with the changes that are happening to your body that’s giving life to his child.

“Rest. Please.” You say softly, tugging at him to lie down in bed with you.

To your surprise, he actually lays down, assuming his typical position before dozing off for the night—on his back with a hand on your belly. You expected him to resist a little, insisting something or another.

He really, really must be tired. Your heart fills with something heavy. Something that makes you almost feel sick. Your brows pinch as you look beside you to see his tensed face relax into something of tranquility.

And a smile pulls at your lips when his eyes fall shut.

Dinner’s over the firepit—his favourite stew with extra mushrooms. The sound of it bubbling becomes louder as it thickens. With a quick, final stir, you take it off the fire and cover it to let it sit. You hope that this will help lift his mood when he wakes. You look over to him as he lays stockstill with softened features, breathing tidally.

Holding onto a supporting beam of the marui, you bring yourself to your feet and waddle your way over to him. You extend a hand to wake him for dinner but you hesitate. He needs this. And that’s when you make the decision to allow him however long it takes to rest. Even if it means that you speak to Tonowari yourself.

Night falls and the temperature falls with it. The glowing firepit keeps the stew and marui warm for the time being as you prepare for bed. You draw the curtains and glance over to your mate, who still remains in a deep sleep, tucked cozily under the blanket you covered him with. You drape the shawl he wove you over your shoulders, and make your way to the door.

A silent yawn splits your lips just before you lift away the flap. Your eyelids are heavy and the drowsiness is weighing on you tenfold. You have one last step of your nightly routine before you can crawl into bed next to your husband. And that's emptying the bladder that your son uses as a footrest. Plus, if you didn’t do it now, it would just be an additional trip in the middle of the night.

As you make your way to the door, the need to go becomes urgent. Perhaps it was all the water you thirstily chugged whilst eating, or maybe it's just the fact that you're already on your way there. Either way, you can’t seem to get there quick enough. Your movements turn hasty the second you get to the top step, hands clutching on the only thing available—your bulging belly. You’re looking down despite the fact that you can’t even see your feet.

Leaning forward slightly, you try to shift your stomach to the side to see your next step. You step down and feel your bare foot make contact with the slippery wood. Your toes press into its surface to ground you as you take your next step. You wobble when you get to the last step, and sigh in relief when you feel the cold, wet sand spill between your toes.

After wasting no time and doing what you came to do, you quickly make your way back to the marui. The tips of your ears and tails are just going numb from how cold it is and the night dew is beginning to form. You get to the bottom step, fixing your shawl so that it’s out the way. You make your way up the first, second and third step, but when you get to the fourth your shawl falls forward.

And so do you.

A blood curdling shriek rips from your throat when you feel your feet give out beneath you. Your hands splay out to grab onto whatever’s around you to break your fall but before you know it you're tumbling back down the stairs at a frightening rate. You keep on your side as best you can, landing into the sand with a muffled thump.

“Fuck. Shit—oh, great mother—” You mutter as you hyperventilate, clutching your stomach as you wait for your son to kick—to show you some sign of life. Your eyes well with tears as you rub your bump vigorously. Your heart is slamming violenting against your rib cage, so hard you can hear it over the ringing in your ears. “Please, please, please.”

…but nothing.

“Y/n?!” You hear Ralaks worried voice boom behind you, then his hurried footsteps down the stairs.

Maybe it’s his fathers voice, but your unborn son gives you one of the biggest kicks yet. You sob out a laugh, rubbing your stomach as relief flows through your body. You take a few deep breaths through your mouth to calm down, feeling another reassuring kick.

“Y/n. Y/n.” Ralak chants your name, eyes rapidly darting side to side to assess you as he kneels beside you. Concern’s etched deeply into his features as he lifts your arms and legs, searching for injuries.

“I’m alright. I’m alright.” You repeat urgently, but he continues to look, even taking off your shawl. His eyes are wide and he seems to be in some level of shock, especially after coming straight out of a deep sleep. “Ralak. Really. I’m fine. We’re okay.”

Ralaks features soften at your two final words. His stare falls to your swollen belly, hands taking the place of yours as he waits. After a few seconds of stillness, his eyes snap up to yours—refilling with worry. He begins to shake his head, and you reassure him with a hand to his face.

“Talk to him.” You whisper with trembling lungs. Ralak looks back down to your stomach.

“Maitan [My son].” Your mate says in a low, steady voice, ensuring not to allow even a hint of fright slip through. Just then, he feels a little nudge against the palm of his hand. Ralaks gaze snaps up to you and his expression relaxes, hands rubbing your belly gently. “How did this happen, tanhì?”

“I…needed to pee.” You say shamefully, avoiding eye contact. “…and I tripped going up the steps.” You glance up at him to see what you perceive to be a face of disappointment. “I’m sorry. I know, I’m so stupid.”

“No. Do not say that.” He interjects, tensing his jaw. “...you are heavy with child—why did you not wake me?”

“You were so, so tired. You needed to rest, and I did not want to disturb you.” You turn to your side to get up, wincing when a sharp pain shoots down your back.

“Careful.” He clears his throat, stopping you from trying to get up on your own. He watches your contorted face relax, but the heart wrenching guilt just gets worse. “You should have. Wake me for anything.” He says sternly, snaking his arms underneath you to lift you up. “Everything.”

“You really don’t have to—” Ralak continues, scooping you in his arms and holding you close to his chest. “I can walk. I’m all right, Ralak.”

You try to reassure him, shuffling in his arms to get down. But he only muffles out a sigh, glancing down at you with downturned brows and droopy ears. He then walks away from the marui stairs, to the direction of the water.

“Where are we going?” You ask quickly when you realise that you’re walking away from home. Ralak clicks for his tsurak, taking his time as he mounts it with you tucked to his chest. “Ralak.”

“To tsahìk.” He states, making the bond with his beast.

“Ronal?” You sound almost panicked as the idea of everyone knowing you fell up the stairs clouds your mind. It’s almost mortifying to think about. “We don’t need to do that, it’s really late too, and—”

Commanding his beast to go, you both take off at full speed. It doesn’t take long to arrive at the tsahìk’s healing pod. Many healers gather at the door when they hear the sound of Ralak’s low pitched call. And they rush out to meet him as he carries you towards them in a hurried manner. They usher you in, hushed murmurs growing louder and clearer as they bring you to Ronal.

You didn’t even notice the burning pain in your lower back until you were about half way here.

The Tsahìk stands upon your entrance, her crystal blue eyes widening when she sees Ralak with you in his arms. You wince as he lays you down where the healers instruct him to. She strides over to a woven basket filled with an array of herbs and needle-like wooden sticks, and quickly props it on her hip—just out of the way of her own bump. She settles herself beside you, feeling your stomach as she channels Eywa.

Ronal throws a look to Ralak, whose hands are on his hips as he waits patiently for the verdict.

“She fell.” He says, only for Ronal to cock an eyebrow. “Stairs.” He finishes. Then both her eyebrows raise, and she reaches for a jar of a ground up, purplish herb. She pours half of it into a wooden bowl, and activates it with a few drops of water from the spirit tree.

“Baby is strong. Very strong.” The Tsahìk announces, and both you and Ralak heave a loud sigh of relief. “But—” Ronal props your legs up on the makeshift table, spreading them slightly. Embarrassment flushes your cheeks as you look over to Ralak. “You are still at risk.”

Ralak moves closer to you, taking your hand in his to keep you calm. You both watch as Ronal rolls the fabric tightly into a small cylindrical shape. You swallow your spit when you realise exactly where that’s going.

“This ensures he stays. It will also help with the pain.” She states, glancing at Ralak to see the glare he’s trying to hold back. She shakes her head slightly and hands you the precautionary apparatus. “Insert. Rest…and remove at sunrise.” Ronal continues, drawing back the curtain to give you some privacy.

“Sunrise?” You whisper to yourself as you watch her step out.

Your eyes dart up to Ralak who is clearly concerned, staring down at you with worry in his eyes. Embarrassment heats up your cheeks and your nerves fray. Why are you so shy all of a sudden? He’s your mate. Your husband.

You sit up a bit more and try to see over your stomach to get the task done with shaky hands. You fumble and struggle with the flimsy cloth, blindly doing your best. But each time you lean forward the pain in your back burns hotter.

Ralak’s supporting you with a hand on your upper back, patiently waiting for you, noticing your trembling fingers and little grunts. He uses his free hand to cup yours, stilling your hurried movements.

“Mawey [calm]. Breathe.” He hums, gently taking it from you and helping you lay down.

You look him in the eyes as he inserts it carefully, wincing when the concoction stings a bit. Ralak gives your hand a light squeeze, speaking as if he had access to your thoughts. You nod, trying to smile through the burning sensation, but he picks up on your discomfort.

“What is it? Is it your back?" His voice quavers with worry.

“No… just burns a little.” You say quietly. You watch his jaw flutter and his shoulders droop as he huffs out a sigh. “Not to worry. It’s going away now.”

As he’s about to speak, the curtain is drawn to the side and Ronal comes in and stands at the arched entrance, hand on her hip. Ralak averts his attention to her, his eyes glancing down at her unborn moving in her belly. Although you were both six months pregnant, you were noticeably bigger than her.

“A word.” Her serious tone of voice brings him out of deep thought, and her nudging head tells him that it’s something urgent.

Ralak looks at you, not wanting to leave you alone but you smile and reassure him with a light nod. He clenches his jaw but you give him a gentle push towards Ronal. He squeezes your hand before letting go and leans in to plant a firm kiss on your forehead. You watch as he leaves, laying back and taking in the ripples in the curtain as you strain to hear their hushed conversation.

“Ronal. Oe irayo si ngaru. [Thank you]” Ralak begins, bowing before the shorter na’vi.

“I worry for your mate.” Ronal cuts to the chase, using her hand to guide him further away from the curtain.

“For what reason?” He asks, keeping his head hung to hear what she has to say. They walk until they’re nearly at the entrance of the healing pod.

“Your son is fast growing.” She speaks calmly but quickly.

Ralak is a little puzzled, although he doesn’t show it. Is that such a bad thing? He continues to look down at her with the same expression, listening intently to what the tsahìk speaks of.

“Her body will struggle. Birth will be hard. Very long and painful.” Now Ralak is having a hard time keeping his emotions concealed as they chisel themselves into his features. Yet he remains silent. “You must warn her about mun’i [the cut].”

“Pxasìk [no way/fuck that]” Ralak curses through a hiss in his native tongue as he stands at full height, figuratively and literally taken aback. How dare she call that upon his mate? Ronal returns a low hiss as Ralak moves away from her, staring down at her with a mixture of emotions.

Concern. Surprise. Fear.

Mun’i [the cut] is rare and risky. Only three have been performed since the birth of this clan, all done in desperation when hope was gone. The last one was performed by Ronal's mother herself. It is an extremely invasive procedure where the mother is cut and the infant is removed. It’s only done in dire situations, where the mother is incapable of giving birth to their young naturally, and risks dying in the process.

Ralak can’t help but feel a burning anger amongst the sea of emotions flooding him at once. How could she suggest such a thing to him? Something so dangerous and grave? All because you will give birth to ‘a different kind’. He’s more than confident that you’re capable of this, despite the murmurs circulating the clan.

He has always been aware of Ronal's perception of you, and her opinion about the mating. It was no secret, though she never outwardly told Ralak as he is like a son to her. She often insisted that you two were not compatible in more ways than one, and always saw you as the forest girl who needed special training. But to know that Ronal doubts your capabilities to give life ignites a flame in his chest.

One that he must quickly put out.

“Ralak!”

He hears you call out for him, prompting him to quell the flame and shoot Ronal a glare of displeasure. “She is stronger than you know.” Ralak speaks through his teeth before turning his heel to tend to you.

Heart pounding, he makes his way through the curtain to be met with the joyous sight of you cradling your stomach with a smile plastered to your face. That only further calms the flicker of the flame in his chest, making a smile tug at his lips. He sees you glance up at him, pearly teeth glistening in the luminosity of the night.

“Sorry if I startled you, it’s just—he’s kicking so hard. Come, come feel!” You blubber excitedly, reaching out for his hand to place it on your belly. He slowly takes a knee, staying still as stone to soak up each movement. “He is so strong, Ralak. Like you.” You whisper, looking down at your mate doting on your bump.

Though he should be proud of your words, he can’t help but feel a little nervous by them. If this child is really like him, then what Ronal said may have some truth to it. Yet he smiles, smoothing his thumb over your protruding belly button.

“He is strong like his sa’nu [mummy].” He says softly, perhaps in attempts to reassure himself and calm his own nerves. Your smile only grows and you place your hand on top of his.

“What did Ronal say?” Ralaks eyes snap up to yours, wide and almost panicked, wiping the smile off your face instantly. “Oh, no. Is it bad? Is something wrong?”

“No, no. She says…” He drops his head, watching his unborn move as he contemplates telling you. You need rest, and this would further stress your mind and body. Ralak urges himself to smile—to create a new mask—one of feigned happiness. “…you must rest. Wait until sunrise.”

“Oh, okay.” You exhale a sigh of relief, “Good. I—I can do that.”

——

After such an eventful night, sleep found you easily. Ralak carried you up the marui stairs, tucked you into bed and watched as your eyes fluttered shut. And even so, he remained at your side for some time, ensuring you were deep in sleep before embarking on his new task.

It began with a ‘quick’ trip inland for the right kind of wood. The kind that holds up well against the elements and the saltiness of the water. The kind that doesn’t have a slip to it when it's been wet for more than a few hours. It took a few trips to get it all back to the beach but it was more of an irritable task than a difficult one.

Ralak tried to keep as quiet as possible, spending the rest of the night—until sunrise—cutting and carving the wood, binding them together with twine, sap and wooden pins. And by the time the first few rays of sunlight beamed in, he was engraving his finishing touches.

—

Ralak chucks down the tool and it lands into the sand with a muffled thud. Using the back of his strake to wipe his forehead clean of sweat, he looks up at his work for a final time—railings for the marui stairs. Then the bright ray of sun shines before his eyes, standing between his two new creations.

You.

You’re surprised to see him out this early, still in his gear from last night. The realisation dawns on you that he’s been up all night, doing this. You can actually feel your chest warm up as your heart pumps the blood through your veins at an insane rate. It rushes to your cheeks, making them hot and flushed.

“Is this what you’ve been doing all night?” You ask the question under your breath, dragging a hand along the railing. It’s smooth under the pads of your fingers, and warm to the touch, as if they’ve just been filed down. You notice a small carving on the side of the railing—your son’s initial.

“Mm.” He grunts, not that he could have slept anyways. He glances at the initial that you’re staring at. “I should have done it long ago.” The shame in his voice is loud and clear. You look down at your feet, unsure of what to say, noticing that he’s redone the steps too.

“Ralak—”

“You must still wake me. Understand?” He cuts you off, already knowing what you’re about to say.

You take a step down, holding tightly onto the railing with one hand and the other tucked under your bump. He rushes up the stairs and supports you by the arm. You lean into him for a hug, nuzzling your face into his chest. “… thank you, my love.”

“Kea tìkin [no need (for thanks)].” He presses his lips onto the crown of your head, words muffled by your hair. His hand slips down your arm and rests on your lower back. “Still feeling pain?”

“No. I feel good. Like new.” You smile, watching his features soften and his lips pull into a subtle smile. “Your son, too. He kicked me all night.”

“Is that so, young one?” He leans down to speak to your belly as you watch intently, “you must be gentle with your sa’nu [mummy].”

As he looks back up to you, your eyes follow his every move. And suddenly it’s just the two of you, before the orange glow of the sunrise, sharing this intimate gaze with one another.

“Ralak… I see you.” You say softly, witnessing his pupils blow until there’s nothing but thin rings of blue.

He swallows, you see the lump in his throat undulate, and the balls of his cheeks stain a light pink. He blinks a few times, leaning in until his lips brush against yours. He lingers there for a bit, jaw fluttering as he grits his teeth a few times. He can’t help but feel a pang in his chest.

How could he keep this from you?

“Oel ngat kame, ma’ muntxate.” He husks the words before locking his lips with yours.

But as he pulls away, you see the glint in his eye. When he sees your lowered brows and inquisitive eyes, he attempts to fix his mask of indifference—no, happiness. But you see right through it—

The glint of guilt.

“What is it?” You ask, reaching behind him for his kuru. It’s your way of saying, 'no secrets'. He’s quiet. Uncomfortably quiet. Unsure of how to say what he should say. You urge him with a light tug to his queue, creating a little more distance between you to look him dead in the eye. “Ralak.”

“Ronal doubts…you.” He says plainly, trying hard to rid himself of the thought of childbirth taking you away from him.

“I don’t understand. What—what does that mean?” You ask, confused and worried.

“I should have told you about it when you asked.” Ralak says, shaking his head. “But…you were already under so much stress. In pain. Our son—”

“Ralak. Tell me about what?” You whisper quietly—quickly. Ralak looks at you, allowing a few seconds of silence to pass before he speaks.

“Mun’i [the cut].” Ralak’s voice cracks with pain as the dreaded thought floods his mind.

Ralak goes on to explain mun'i, giving you a brief lesson on its history and typical…outcome. He explains why Ronal urged him to warn you about it. And exactly what he told her in return. That he is confident that you are more capable of doing this.

It ends with a comforting embrace and the both of you coming to the conclusion that a conservation with Jake is needed. If the cut were to happen, the sky people’s medical advancements would be…useful.

——

Since then, Ralak adapted a very strict agenda when it came to the preparation of the birth. In some ways, it reminded you of the beginning of your relationship with him as teacher and student. Karyu and Numeyu. A revision of previous lessons, such as breathing lessons.

—

“Deeper breaths, tanhì. Slow.” Ralak instructs you with his hand on your round belly.

“It’s hard…” your voice is strained, “when his feet are in my lungs.”

Ralak chuckles, nodding in understanding. “Right. Do your best.”

You attempt to follow his demonstration a fifth time, inhaling deeply through your nose, holding it, and then slowly letting it out through your mouth. “Light headed now.”

“You did well.” Ralak praises you, snaking an arm around you as he lowers you onto your back. “You all right?”

“Just fine.” You mutter, grateful for the new position.

Ralak looks at you for a while, taking in a sight that may be similar to the one of you giving birth—giving life. The reality that you will soon be a family quickly dawns on him. The reality that… Ronal's words still weigh heavy on his heart.

“And when you bear down…” Ralak pulls your leg back, your knee now grazing against your cheek as they flush with embarrassment. “…shallow, fast breaths. Do not hold it.”

He then demonstrates, emphasising the sound of the breathing technique to ensure you’re doing it properly.

'…hee—hee—hoo…'

You mimic his sounds, looking down to see nothing but your protruding bump. It may be strange to some that Ralak is teaching you a lesson on something such as childbirth. But with his mother-figure being the tsahìk, there were just certain things he grew to have knowledge of.

“Ronal says there are times where it is best to allow your body to take over. Focus on breathing him out. Let your body do the work for you…” You nod slowly as you practice deep breathing in this new position, “…she will show you some positions in your lesson tomorrow.”

"What?" Your ears perk up. For some reason one on one interactions with Ronal always make you nervous.

“The other expecting women of the clan will be there.”

Your ears relax, and you feel a little more at ease knowing you won’t be alone, even if it’s a sea of gossiping women. At least they were more discreet about it.

——

As you neared the final months of your pregnancy, Ralak was called out more frequently. The aches and pains that came along with being so big were just as frequent, it seemed. They’d hit you at the strangest times, during your sleep or whilst on your tsurak.

But when the pain spread to your abdomen is when Ralak urged you to take things easy. But they didn’t stop him from going anywhere. No matter how badly he wanted to stay home and tend to you. It was more complicated than that. Something that you were blissfully unaware of. Something he wanted to keep that way until it was the right time to tell you.

—

“Must you go?” You ask hopefully, tugging at his bicep. “You just got back.”

“Tono will have my head, tahnì.” He states, buckling his chest gear yet another time for today.

“It’s not fair. Not even the warriors back at home tree were called out so much. Especially if their mate was this far along.” You huff, letting go off his bicep to clutch your protruding belly. He cups a hand over yours, leaning down to kiss your forehead.

“Ah. I know, I know. I want to stay, I do—” He’s cut off by your sudden gasp, and your face screwing with discomfort. “Are you alright?” His voice turns fills with concern, head tilting even more so that he can look you in the face. It felt as if your back set ablaze and your stomach hardened into rock. It eases up within a few seconds and you take a quick breath before answering.

“Yeah, I think so.” You feel around your bump, taking note of how it’s softened and back to normal. “…that’s the second one today.”

“Hm. It is. See Ronal while I am gone.” Ralak insists, tucking a couple loose braids behind your ear. You nod in response, gritting your teeth from the reminder that he’s leaving again. “I will speak with Tonowari today.”

He’s quick to kiss you, lingering longer than he should. You savor his tender touch, breathing him in until you’ve gotten your fill to last you until he’s back. He pulls away, a grimace fixed to his face as it’s almost painful to do. He rubs your belly a final time, clicking for his beast. Reluctantly, he leaves, and so do you.

—

‘Practice Contractions.’

Ronal’s diagnosis of your pains.

You’re not entirely unfamiliar with the concept. Mom calls them something different, but it all means the same thing at the end of the day. The body’s way of preparing to give birth. The constriction of your stomach, accompanied by intense pain, at random times with no rhythm.

It’s normal, and expected. Ronal was particularly pleased to see your body do this early in your pregnancy. It typically occurs a couple weeks prior to birth, and both of you weren’t due for another month.

They’re nothing to worry about, but she advises to rest if they get too intense. You waddle home with your tail dragging behind you, unhappy to see no sign of your mates return.

—

“You are late.” Tonowari speaks monotonously, back turned to Ralak as he keeps his eyes on his task—forging a new tool. Ralak has to swallow his frustration and maintain his confidence.

“It will happen soon.” He responds in a similar tone, his eyes following as the olo’eyktan stands. “I must be with her.”

“I understand. I do. But—” Tonowari finishes up the last touches, giving the tool its final inspection. “This is your duty, son.”

“She, is my duty.” Ralak snaps, his frustration slipping through.

Feeling challenged, Tonowari turns to face him, now eye level with Ralak as he slowly nears his subordinate—chest to chest. But with a pregnant mate of his own, and the fact that Ralak is like his own son, Tonowari huffs a sigh and gives this a pass.

“This is for her, too. For the people of the clan. You know what we are about to face. You will do this.” The olo’eyktan states sternly. “When the horn sounds… you come. And that…” he shoves the tool into Ralak’s chest, “…is an order.”

Holding the tool against his own chest, Ralak looks away from Tonowari, grinding his back teeth hard enough to file them flat. He breathes heavily, attempting to recenter himself and stamp out the flame flickering in his chest. Tonowari gives him space, going ahead and mounting his skimwing, readying himself to embark on their journey. Whilst Ralak is left behind to let out a sluggish, shaky breath, closing his eyes when it dawns on him...

…what he must do, where he must go and who he must see.

All before coming home this evening.

—

“Zu’té.”

Ralak calls his name outside of the secluded, dim marui pod. It’s familiar, yet so unknown. It’s an eerie feeling to be standing here. It’s as if no one’s home. Not a single flame burning, nor the residual heat of a smothered fire pit. But Ralak can sense his presence. It’s thick. Aggressive. Just as it’s always been. It’s only intensified since the incident.

The silence is deafening now. A message loud enough to have Ralak reconsidering his actions—rethinking his feelings. No part of him really desired to ask anything of this man, much less this. But in the case Tonowari really doesn’t budge with his decision, it is something he must do. No matter how many years have passed. Ralak has moved on…come to terms with what’s happened, and is in a much better place in his life now. Because of you.

You.

He’s doing this for you. Or is he? The fact he’s fathered a child has a major influence on his decision to be standing here to begin with… perhaps it’s something within him driven by nature—by instinct. The further you’ve progressed, the more he’s thought about rekindling this relationship. But he always brushed off these passing thoughts, until they were no longer just thoughts that passed. They became thoughts that lingered and kept him awake some nights.

Showing their faces the most when Tonowari reminds him of the imminent danger the clan may face.

They reminded him of the good times when they were children. Teasing the ilus when no one was looking, sneaking off to the reef where the adults went to hunt just to see what it was like. But it also reminded him of the more unfortunate moments they shared. Those that will forever leave a scar on their souls, branded by pain and suffering. Since then, Ralak took an oath to never allow his own family to suffer the way he did.

If this is what he must do, he’ll do it.

“I am in need of a favour.” Ralak finally admits, witnessing a tall, thick silhouette emerge from the marui.

At this angle, its darkness looms over Ralak ominously. Green glowing eyes peer down at Ralak as the figure's hands cross defensively over his chest. He steps out of the darkness, revealing his inked face and intricately up-kept hair. He looks as if he’s been disturbed or rudely interrupted, evident in the way his eyes pierce fearlessly into Ralak. But Ralak simply returns the leer.

“Zu’té.” Ralak speaks his name again, a little more sternly this time.

“Brother. To what do I owe this visit?” His tone is sarcastic with undertones of hostility.

Ralak sighs, turning his head away from his older brother, fixating his gaze elsewhere. His jawbone flutters as he struggles to figure out what words to string together next. This isn’t easy for him—being here with his tail tucked between his legs.

“It is no way easy for me to ask you of this…I know we have not spoken for some time.”

“Really? You think so? I would say it has been a little more than ‘some time’, no?” Zu’té’s irritation is shining through now.

“Agreed.” Ralak speaks sharply, dropping his head, gaze piercing into his own feet. He swallows and sighs once more, finally lifting his head to look his brother in the face. "I need your help, brother."

“Hm.” Zu’té scoffs, meeting his stare flagrantly. “Let me get this right. You come here, wake me out my sleep, speak to me like this for the first time in over forty-eight seasons…and demand my help?”

“You are the only one I trust with this.” Ralak grinds out the words, they are hard to admit.

This quietens Zu’té, causing his features to soften and his fixed stare to falter. To hear this after twelve years, straight from his brother’s mouth has him a little taken aback. There’s only one thing that it could mean—that could bring the golden child before him, begging for a favour.

War.

“What does our ‘mighty’ olo’eyktan have you up to now, baby brother?” Zu’té’s tone is especially sardonic when speaking of their father-figure.

“Plenty.” Ralak chuckles quietly, shaking his head in amusement. His curved lips fade into a thin line, returning his grim expression when he’s reminded yet again of his exact reason for being here. “Look…” Ralak exhales, “...it is nowhere likeable for me to show my face like this. Trust me, I have thought of every possible solution. But…" he shakes his head, hesitant to share what he must say next. "My mate...she is pregnant."

Zu’té’ sighs when he realizes the gravity of the situation, eyes narrowing as they look behind Ralak to scan his surroundings. He’s far from all of the neighbouring marui pods, being the last pod along the mangroves. But if someone were nearby, they could eavesdrop with ease.

Zu’té lightly nudges his head, giving Ralak the silent signal to enter his marui. Ralak moves slowly, a little surprised by his change in...heart. Annoyed with Ralak's sluggish movement, Zu’té rolls his eyes.

“What? You expect an invitation?" Zu’té asks the rhetorical question loud and clear, watching in awe as his not-so-little brother stands almost eye to eye with him. "...you've grown."

"Surprised?" Ralak mutters, ears spasming from his brother's comment—shuffling past him.

"Don't get smart with me, little brother." Zu’té snaps with his ears pinned to his skull, automatically slipping back into disciplining his younger brother like he once used to. Ralak fights the smirk pulling at his lips, making his way further into the neat, well-decorated marui.

——

Ralak came home that night, as he does most nights nowadays with a heavy tail and tensed muscles. That night he broke the news that he had no luck with Tonowari. That he remained tied to his duties as a warrior, teacher, hunter and evidently more…that you had no knowledge of.

But he made it clear that none of them came before you—his most important duty of all. He promised not only to your father, but also to you, to put you first, no matter what. That he will do whatever he needs to ensure your safety is never compromised. Even if it means putting his pride aside, and asking for help, as he did that night.

The desire to prepare for your son's arrival grew with each passing day, making you nest like an expecting ikran. You smoked enough meat to last for the next couple months, and gathered as many herbs and fruits that you could manage.

Weaving has been one of your more frequent tasks, making a couple slings and a few more blankets. Ralak was quick to build the cot when he got into a nesting frenzy, too.

But regardless of what your next task was, it was always a little bit harder…a little bit more tiring. Until you were so round and heavy that most of them became unachievable. Your size started to affect you in more ways than just physical. It started to affect you mentally, too. Playing tricks on your mind, making you think negatively about yourself.

And Ralak picked up on that very quickly.

——

As you wait for his return, you give the marui another deep clean. You take small breaks often, sitting down whenever you become short of breath.

Whilst you sweep the patio, you see your mate trudge up the stairs, ears pinned back and exhaustion wrinkled into his forehead. Ralak sees you and wastes no time to take the broom from you and pull you into his chest.

He holds you in silence. Comfortable silence. Savouring how you feel against his body. The thud of your heartbeat, the warmth of your skin. You’re his safe place. His home. As he is yours. His embrace is what you look forward to the most after a long day apart.

Perhaps this is what you both need. A moment of peace and quiet, where your focus is purely on the person in front of you. A break from the mayhem that life can entail, from the pull and push of the rough tides. Serenity. All to be interrupted by Ralak pulling away, holding you by the arms to create some distance between you two.

Furrowed brows and beaded eyes stare back at you when you look at him. He’s staring at you, but not at you. His eyes pierce into your chest, and then peel away to flick down at his stomach. A smile creeps on his face, and a huff of air through his nostrils as he chuckles softly. His gaze finally meets yours, and he lets go of your arms.

“Your milk is in.” He almost whispers, his fingertips grazing against your stomach.

“What?” You breathe, caught off guard to say the least. Your head snaps down, eyes searching every inch of your shawl to find two large, growing wet spots on it. “O-Oh.” You stutter, looking back up at him, catching sight of the glistening liquid on his stomach. “Oh.”

Your cheeks grow hot when blood rushes to them from embarrassment. Just another thing pregnancy has bestowed upon you. “Sorry, Lak.” You turn to reach for the nearby cloth that hangs by the window.

“What for?” He asks innocently—a little confused.

He watches as you wipe him down in an almost frantic manner. He stills your movements by grasping your wrists, causing you to drop the cloth. He brings your hands to his lips.

“Mawey [Calm]. Nothing to be ashamed of.” He speaks into the palm of your hands. You hear his words, but you still can’t bring yourself to look at him. “Hey.”

He lets go, and cups your cheek, urging you to look at him. When you finally do, he’s smiling down at you, allowing his hand to slip down to the bow of your shoulder—his fingers hooking underneath the hem of your shawl. “Let me clean you up, hm?”

“Oh—okay.” You stutter shyly, feeling his fingers slip under the woven fabric to slip it off your shoulders. “W-Wait.”

And when the material hits the floor, a shiver shakes your spine. Your breasts are exposed to the cool air, sticky nipples hardened into peaks for him to see. They’ve darkened in colour, and are even a little more puffy too.

Honestly, you weren’t the biggest fan of them anymore. You wore thicker tops or shawls to conceal them, just as you did your stomach with your new…stripes. But Ralak loves them, always stealing a glance at every given chance.

But to know that they’re full with milk makes him feel…on edge.

His eyes bore into them, unapologetically taking in every detail. His smile falls into a slight smirk, which then droops into a thin line. His jaw flutters as he grits his teeth, biting back his urges.

“Don’t stare.” You whisper shyly, covering your chest with one arm and your belly with the other. He looks at you, and reaches for your arms, peeling them away from your body.

“Beautiful.” He states as a fact, intertwining his fingers with yours. “So beautiful, carrying my child.”

“‘m really not.” You mumble, looking away in shame. You feel his hand move to your face, two fingers tugging at your jaw to have you look up at him. When you finally give in to his nudges, you see the look on his face. It was as if you had deeply and personally offended him.

“You are.” He insists softly.

You simply shake your head, arms instinctively wrapping around your chest and belly once more. “I don’t feel it. I don’t even know how you can look at me and say that.”

Ralak almost feels angered by your words. It hurts him to hear you speak of yourself in such a way, especially when it’s far from the truth. If anything, he’s even more attracted to you. Knowing that this is what your body is going through to bring his child into the world has made him even more appreciative of you.

“Never say such things.” He husks firmly, removing your hands from your body and keeping them in his grasp. “Do not hide.”

“You have barely touched me.” You retaliate, voice cracking with hurt.

“Not for that reason.” He’s quick to cut you short, making sure you know that the last thing stopping him from pouncing on you every chance he gets is the way you look. Absolutely not.

“If that’s what you need to tell yourself, then—”

Frustrated, Ralak shoves your hand onto his loincloth, pressing it firmly against the bulge that strains against the material. “You feel that?”

You do, you feel every inch of it, hard and warm against your palm. Your face heats up even more, cheeks staining a bright red. Your breath turns raggedy as you struggle to find the words to say.

“Hm?” He grunts as he presses himself even harder against the palm of your hand.

“Y-Yes.” You stutter. Ralak turns you around, pressing himself into you from behind. His heated lips are flush against your ear, hot breath prickling your skin.

“This is what you do to me.” Ralak husks into the shell of your ear, grinding his bulge into the swell of your ass. “Day after day.” He groans almost painfully, filled with all sorts of emotions. He holds you firm against his body, grazing his bottom teeth against the lobe of your ear. “All it takes is a single glance.” His words have your clit pulsing under your tewng and your thighs rubbing against one another. “The sight of you…of your swollen breasts… your swollen womb…” he hisses, on edge and high strung as he caresses your belly, “…it makes me lose myself.”

“Fuck.” You breathe, reaching behind you to tug his loincloth down in a frantic manner. You feel his lips nibble and nip at the skin behind your ear, making their way down the back of your neck. You can’t help but moan from the feeling, your already stiff nipples tingling from his gentle touches.

You feel his hands wander over your stomach and under your tewng, his fingers fondling your folds as he gently parts them. He grunts against your neck, inhaling your scent deep in his lungs as his hips stutter into you. Your stickiness coats his fingers as they slip and slide over your hardened nub.

You tug even harder at his loincloth, struggling to get the annoying thing off him. You let out a frustrated grunt, and he lets loose an amused chuckle, peppering soft kisses down to the bow of your shoulder.

“What is it? Need me to take you right here?” He husks low, voice muffled by his continuous kisses. “…where someone may see?”

Right, you’re on the patio.

Out in the open, under the light of the moon. Ralaks marui pod is far from the village on a cul de sac. The only thing further than here is sand, open water and a couple smaller islands off in the distance. However, there' is's always the slim chance of a na’vi or two going for a late night swim or on a romantic adventure far from the village.

But you simply didn’t care.

If anything it only riles you up more—the riskiness of it all, the thought of being caught. The need to be sneaky and quiet, when all you want to do is moan his name until your voice goes dim. It seems that Ralak feels similarly as you feel him throb against you, excited to take you where you stand.

“I don’t mind.” You huff shakily, finally tugging the cloth down enough for his cock to spring out. “Do you?”

You feel him smile against your shoulder when you grip it in your hand, smooth teeth bumping into your skin as his free hand cups your full breast.

“Not at all, my tanhì.” He breathes, gently kneading the soft flesh, feeling the trickle of your milk flow over the back of his hand.

“Good.” Your lungs tremble beneath his touch, hand desperately stroking his length. Yet he remains gentle with his touches, pinning your clit between his two fingers as he rubs you slowly. “Then hurry…I need you inside.”

Ralak quickly moves his kisses back up your neck, and you feel the tip of his tongue tickle the lobe of your ear before he suckles on it lightly. Tingles ripple up your spine, sending your head into a shiver as you lean into his mouth. His fingers dip into your soaking core just as he rolls your tender nipple between his other two digits.

It’s all too much. All-consuming. Making you gasp for air in lungs that won’t seem to fill. Fog clouds your head. How did you get here? How did this happen? Fuck, it doesn’t matter. Not when you feel like this.

You’re already so sensitive as it is, so tender and delicate, like silk under his fingers. He pushes his two fingers even deeper inside your aching pussy, curling them and earning a whimper from your lips and quiver of your tail.

“Not too loud, oeyä sevin muntxate [my pretty/beautiful wife]”. Ralak whispers the hushed praise, knowing it’s what you need to hear.

You’re so much warmer around his fingers than usual, so much softer. Wetter. With each curl of his digits comes out a squelch as he works you open for his cock that he’s been dying to plunge inside you.

You wrap your leg around his, perching your heel on the side of thigh as you lean all your weight back into him. He steadies his knees, supporting you with ease. Your head slumps back into his shoulder, opening up your neck to his hot breaths, an arm reaching behind you to fist his hair.

His brows are tense and his breath is heavy. He’s overcome with arousal and he can’t keep his composure as your scent grows stronger now your throat is directly under his nose. Truthfully it’s been too long, he knows that. He knows he’s been too protective, too cautious. Depriving you and him of the touch that’s necessary between a mated pair.

His fingers slip out of you, now expertly unravelling the loose knot just barely keeping your tewng on you. As it drops to the floor his fingers are back where they were, rubbing sloppy circles into your clit before spreading your pussylips apart. His hips stutter as he attempts to align the crown of his cock with your slit and finally buck forward when he senses your little, exposed hole.

His cock sinks inside you at an achingly slow pace—inch by inch. You let loose a lengthy moan when you feel him fill you completely, no longer caring if anyone hears you.

“Hnng—I missed you.” The gruff words slip out as he bottoms out inside your cunt. He has longed to feel your gummy walls squeeze oh-so tightly around his cock. “You alright?” He checks on you in a daze, voice thick with want—with the desire to pummel your little pussy until your voice is hoarse. But the last thing he wants is to hurt his heavily pregnant mate.

“Mhm, ple-ase.” You purr with need, closing your eyes and relaxing completely into him. Trusting someone this much feels too good. Ralak moves slowly, pumping his cock in and out of you in a languid haze, tickling your sensitive clit with just the tips of his fingers.

“Tanhì—haah—you are squeezing me so tight.” Ralak moans as his strokes grow with intent. His hips roll deep, shoving and forcing his cock inside your sensitive cunt until his swollen balls kiss your clit.

He’s unapologetically coaxing out the orgasm you’ve been denied for so long with only a few lazy thrusts. And he knows it. He can feel it from the way you clench around him. From the way your thighs tremble a little more after each deep stroke…from the sweet, filthy noises that shamelessly drip from your lips.

“Oh my—Ralak! I-I’m gonna—” You sputter the words between choked sounds, eyes welling with tears from the burn between your legs.

“I know, I know.” He huffs, dragging his hot tongue along the length of your throat. The truth is, he’s close too. But he can’t allow himself to finish inside you. He can’t risk letting himself go and pounding recklessly into your poor, tender pussy. He’s already had a long day. “Let it out, tìyawn [love].”

Its almost cathartic.

Weeks of pent up frustration released in a few minutes, leaving you near convulsing in his grip. You can’t stop the flutter of your pussy walls if you try, it’s out of your control, much like the surge of white fire going right through you. Your legs fight to stay open and you hold onto your mate to keep you standing. Gurgled noises spill from your lips as your body shudders under him. His hips still, keeping his cock buried to the hilt inside your quivering cunt as he holds you tight, supporting you until you finish riding out your high.

“Good girl. Good girl.” He praises you in a hushed, shaky voice, extremely wound up from feeling you flourish so beautifully under his touch. It's a miracle that he didn't empty himself inside you right then and there.

“But you—but you haven’t—” You sputter, collapsing into him as your legs give out.

“I know. It is alright..” He hums, carefully leading you inside the marui to lay you on the bed.

“Thought you were c-cleaning me u-up. Not mak-king m-more of a mess.” Your breath is relentlessly hitching as you watch him hastily remove his tewng that’s been digging into his thighs. A reminder of exactly how quickly things happened.

“You are right.” Ralak tsks, cocking a brow as he stares down at you with a predatory leer. “I did say that, didn’t I?”

Ralak situates himself between your legs, crouching over you, ensuring there’s plenty of space between him and your stomach. His cock presses between your sticky folds as his lips press against your clammy neck. He tastes the faint saltiness of the thin film of sweat on your skin as he drags his lips down your chest—between your breasts.

“Lak…” You whisper, back bowing against the bed.

You’re way too sensitive right now, like an exposed nerve. His eyes snap up and lock with yours, responding to you moaning his name. His tongue darts out, sampling a taste of the spilled milk on your breast. Then his eyes slam shut, tensed brows and scrunched nose telling you that he’s unsure of the flavour in his mouth.

Eyes widening, you’re taken aback by his actions, feelings of shyness and embarrassment creeping back in. Fisting his hair, you pull gently at his head to pry him off your chest, only for him to resist your tugs.

“You shouldn’t have done—why’d you do—” You struggle to find the right words at this moment, flustered and nervous that he’d do that.

But what leaves you even more speechless is when he opens his eyes to reveal dots for pupils, a look you only see when he’s high strung. And then he eagerly takes your nipple into his mouth, latching on and ensuring the suction is airtight. The tip of his tongue flicks at your hardened nipple a few times before he gently suckles at your breast.

A tingling sensation radiates your chest and you feel it in the pit of your stomach. Your breath catches in your throat, a little surprised by his lewd behaviour. And soon, all you can hear are the repeated, muffled gulps of your warm milk flowing down his throat.

“W-What are yo-ou d-doing, my love?” You mewl, squirming underneath him from the strange feeling. He unlatches harshly with an audible pop, leaving your pointed nipple misshapened and exposed.

“Cleaning you.” He huffs quickly as he catches his breath, diving back in to lap up the milk leaking from your other neglected breast. Your head throws back in what is undeniably pleasure now, legs tightening around his waist. You look down in a daze, watching him feast greedily, feeling his hips begin to stammer against you.

“Fuck—I didn’t know this i-is what you meant.” You’re finally calming down from your orgasm now, already feeling your body gearing up to have another. His desperation is pungent. Evident in the way his cock grinds between your soft, slippery folds, scenting your cunt with it.

He pulls off you with yet another pop, his tongue swiping his bottom lip so not to let the bead of milk dripping off of it go to waste. He’s huffing and puffing against you, trailing his wet kisses down your curved stomach as he tucks your legs back. You feel his hot breath against your thighs and your legs tremble in anticipation.

“Kalin, kalin [sweet, sweet].” He mumbles, kissing your pulsing clit. “Oeyä kalin [My sweet].”

“Oh shit.” You let loose the breathy curse when you feel his lips pucker around your over sensitive nub, and squeal when he begins to suck on it too. Your hands fly to his head, grasping at his hair to shove his face further into your cunt. He devours you with exhilaration, lapping at your leaking slit to savour your sweetness.

His cock is aching now. He’s so hard it’s painful. He can’t stop throbbing and his cock strains so hard it’s swollen. He wants to shove himself back inside you— your warmth—and hump at you until his marked you with his essence.

He can’t help but touch himself as he pleasures you. Stroking his cock with every lick of your pussy. Thrusting into his hand when he feels you throb against his tongue. He’s groaning and grunting into your cunt, urgently chasing his own release as he sucks on you for his own pleasure.

Too busy to realise that you’ve been begging him to slow down a bit. That you’re too sensitive. That you feel like you may explode if he continues.

“Ralak! I just came! F-Fuck—” You yank his head away, hurriedly rubbing at your sore pussy.

Ralak pants for air, pulling back into a standing position to reveal that he’s been fucking his hand this entire time. It’s glossy with his precum as it dribbles down his strake. He’s frantically stroking himself, staring brazenly down at your pussy—taking in how it’s flushed and swollen, glistening with his spit and your slick. It’s a delicious sight, tempting him to go in for another taste.

He’s close and you can tell, his hips are stuttering erratically and he’s groaning like a dying man. You sit up slowly, bringing yourself to your knees as you shuffle your way closer to him. Your chest is level to his cock and you cup your full breasts with both hands, pushing them together only inches away from him.

He seems a little confused, unsure of what your next move may be. Fuck, you aren’t even sure of what your next move is. But you’re going with your instinct, pinching your nipples until they begin to leak milk. His brows jump, the sight of that sends his hips stammering into his hand. With each huff and thrust sends his cock a little closer to you, until his swollen cockhead is poking at your breasts.

You shuffle a little closer, moaning softly from watching him get off like this. Then you feel his sticky cock slip in between your breasts, and his hand falls to your shoulders.

Now he’s fucking your tits in a frenzy, his leaking tip prodding at your lips. You stick your tongue out for a taste, allowing his cockhead to slip and slide against it. He’s groaning and moaning, eyes fixed in the sight beneath him. The pressure from his fat cock between your breasts only makes you leak even more, and that’s when he loses it completely.

“Oh, fuck.” He growls, thrusting hard enough to shove his cockhead into your mouth. You feel him throb violently against your tongue, his thick, hot load coating your cheeks until they're full to the brim. He pulls out as soon as he realises what he’s down, immediately reaching for your bedside bucket to spit in.

But you shake your head, glossy eyes staring up at him as you swallow his cum with a singular, loud gulp. His eyes bulge, his hands flying to cup your cheeks as he quickly searches your eyes. You simply smile, using a thumb to swipe the single bead of cum on your chin and pop it into your mouth.

Features softening, he returns the smile, chest heaving wildly as it swells with pride.

——

681 notes · View notes

wheneclipsefalls · 10 months

Text

Withered

Beautiful Adult Neteyam photo by the wonderful @cinetrix

Pairing: Alpha Neteyam x Beta Fem Omatikaya Reader

Synopsis: You and Neteyam have opposite lives. He thrives in the daylight of possibilities while you are forced to the shadows. You are sure that the right course of action would be letting the future Olo'eyktan go. Neteyam is less convinced.

Based on a request from my 🥔 anon

Warnings: aged up characters, aged up neteyam, angst, health problems, explicit smut, dirty talk, crying, miscommunication, p in v, virgin reader, first time, omegaverse, alpha/beta relationship dynamic, heat, sickness, 18+ only MDNI

Tanhi: star/little star I Yawne: beloved I Sevin: pretty I Mawey: calm

A/N: I can't tell you all enough how grateful I am for the hype and many comments that have been around this story just from that small sneak peek I posted. This ended up being a lot longer than I ever anticipated but I had a blast writing it. Please let me know what you think. I love hearing from y'all!

For many the sun is a symbol of warmth, peace, and solace. The bright rays enwrap Na’vi of all ages in the glow of Eywa’s love. The rise of morning light represents a new day, another chance for adventure and possibilities. When the illuminating glow of yellow sunshine transforms into streaks of vibrant purples and pinks, it indicates a time for families to come together and tuck in for the night.

However, for you, your day truly begins at the first glow of bioluminescence. Eclipse is your time to explore the world.

You were born with an almost unheard of disease. It only took a few days of your infant body breaking out into abnormal rashes for Tsahik to realize something was wrong. Exposure of more than a few minutes to sunshine causes detrimental effects to your body. For this reason, you are forced to avoid the vibrant glow of the sun.

From that moment on you have lived your life almost nocturnally. On lucky days the clouds protect you from the harmful UV rays. Rain has come to be your favorite weather as it allows you an escape from your hut.

Despite these difficulties you have always strived to remain positive. You thank your parents for their gracious attitudes that inspire you to look for the silver lining in all situations. Sure you can not sunbathe or prowl the forest during sunny days but no one knows the forest at Eclipse as well as you do. Your knowledge has come in handy more than a few times, being asked to guide night hunts with some of the most notorious warriors in the clan.

This is where you met Neteyam.

The firstborn of the infamous Toruk Makto and your future Olo’eyktan, you originally assumed he would have no interest in interacting with you. You knew him from afar, hearing the word spread of his kindness and diligence when it came to helping those around him. His alpha status only served to bring a larger gaggle of girls practically falling at his feet. As a beta and suffering from a rare condition, you naturally took yourself out of the run up. You were confident he would choose some sweet and knowledgeable omega that would be the perfect tsahik.

However, your assumptions quickly crumbled as he progressively paid attention to you more and more throughout these night hunts. Instead of joining the rest of the alpha warriors gathering to share a strong drink after a successful kill, he would opt to check in with you. You were shy at first, unsure of how to act around such an influential member of the clan. However, there was something about those golden orbs and soft smile that quickly set you at ease.

You still remember the first time you had sustained a small injury during these hunts. It was nothing more than a shallow slash to your forearm, but Neteyam had insisted on carefully wrapping it himself. You gushed over him like an idiot, reminding him that it was unnecessary but he showed his stubborn side that day.

At first you thought it was your own overactive imagination noticing the frequency of night hunts he signed up for increase, but eventually it had become every single night. No matter how boned-tired he was from a day of full Olo’eyktan training, he would beam at the sight of your small form. His scent was something that seemed to constantly enrapture your senses. The heavy essence of pine and hormonal swings was so much stronger than yours. It took some getting used to. The first few nights you were bashful to come home and find evidence of your arousal dampening your loincloth.

Still, you told yourself it was just a simple crush that you had to live with. It took weeks for you to even consider the possibility of Neteyam showing interest in you. He had been consistent in bringing you out of your shell, getting you to talk about everything from your family to the fondest hope and dreams in your heart. Oftentimes he would stay back behind after the hunt to help you join him sitting on an overarching thick branch (you were grateful for the darkness of eclipse that hid your blush each time he effortlessly hoisted you up with large hands gently holding your waist) and chat away into the night.

It was only when the gifts began that you gave these interactions a second thought. It had started small with simple flowers and fruits he had encountered throughout the day. However, they slowly became more intricate. The first time he brought you a small woven bracelet of sparkling gems, you had been gobsmacked.

“Like the night sky. The only thing appropriate for my tanhi.” He had said, making you almost choke on your own spit. Tahni- little star: a nickname he had coined for you after the first week. A fitting term for someone that only knew the night sky. Still, it was the first time he had ever called you his. The terminology was not lost on you.

When the sun arose once more and you had retired back to your protected hut, those words had kept you up, your small fingers twiddling with the bracelet.

Taking your acceptance of the small gift, Neteyam had become even more bold with his courting. Before you knew it he was bringing a meal with him for you before every hunt. You had tried to decline the thoughtful gesture but he would not take no for an answer.

“Someone has to make sure you eat, tanhi.”

There was no fighting the alpha on this, so you graciously took the meals each night. He smiled proudly as you moaned in satisfaction of the carefully seasoned meat he had killed and prepared for you. Another testament to the mighty warrior and beneficial mate he is.

You started to think that the eldest Sully was simply a flirt, or perhaps such a kind person that his actions came off as romantic. However, there was one instance that finally tipped you to accepting his affections. It was a particularly successful hunt, dragging home a thanator, when he had slowed down to your pace. Talking about anything and everything under the night sky, your breath was practically stolen from your lungs when he reached out to tuck a strand of your dark hair behind your ear.

However innocent the gesture was, it was the lingering of his hand running down your neck that caused your heart to bash against your rib cage violently. A simple brush that had left his scent to coalesce with yours. An essence that would keep other suitors away. Out of habit, you mentally went to play it off as a simple accident, but the crooked smirk plastered across his face did not allow you. There was a primal satisfaction seated in those golden orbs, one that caused a pool of arousal to gather in your core.

He knew what he had done.

Neteyam was proud of it.

His affection was untethered from that point forward. Accidental brushes of fingers had turned into blatant hand holding. The alpha never missed an opportunity to press a warm hand to the small of your back, guiding you through the terrain, or wrap an arm around your waist in order to steady you when walking over uneven forest floor.

“What kind of alpha would I be if I let you get hurt?”

He had spoken in response to your inquiry, a cheeky grin plastered across his face.

Falling for Neteyam was easy. Too easy. It was keeping yourself back from jumping into his arms or melting into his embraces that was difficult. No matter how strange and suggestive his behavior had been, you didn’t want to get your hopes up. After all, there was no saying what he got up to during the day. For all you knew he could be taking omegas out every day and weaving sweet gifts for them too.

So you had decided to do what was best for everyone and take yourself out of the situation before something embarrassing could happen. You declined the request to accompany the hunting party and instead went to spend some more time with your family. If your parents noticed the difference in your appearance they did not show it. They were always good at giving you space, respecting your independence as an adult (although your mother did go out of her way to place a comforting hand on your shoulder, a silent way to express her understanding and love). Neither of them knew about Neteyam at the time, it was easier that way.

This fact only heightened their surprise when they saw Toruk Makto’s eldest son approaching their small gathering. You can still remember the intent gaze that Neteyam pierced you with. Your heart hammered out of your chest, hands fidgeting with the moss beneath you nervously. Neteyam signaled the traditional greeting to your parents before respectfully asking your father if he could borrow you for a moment.

They were caught off guard, your dad turning back to send you a curious look, but naturally neither wanted to decline the Omatikaya prince.

Once the two of you were finally alone, Neteyam immediately sprang into action. He grabbed your biceps and used that hold to turn you from side to side as he scanned your form. His intense inspection had blood rushing to your cheeks.

“Neteyam, what are you doing? I thou-”

“Where are you injured?” You twitched when he reached a hand out to inspect your flicking tail too. Confusion swarmed within you. You had sputtered and struggled to put together a full sentence.

“It has been three days, Tanhi. I blew one day off as exhaustion or a fluke and the second as pure coincidence but surely only an injury would keep you away from the hunt for three days.” His eyes finally met yours again when there was no wound to be found. His tall frame had towered over yours as he reached out to cup your cheek.

That familiar warmth and adoration you had for him had returned within an instant.

You stepped back, successfully out of his grasp.

“I’m fine.” You replied simply.

His tail swatted in the humid air and those golden orbs had squinted into slits. The focused attention of that look full of suspicion was enough to hold you down to your spot. You swallowed the lump in your throat and as you tried desperately to keep the fidgeting at bay. It was one of the few times you were grateful to be beta because surely an omega would shrivel under the pressure of his looming presence.

“I don’t like when you lie to me, Tahni. Now tell me why I’ve had to go without my little star for three whole days.” Neteyam placed his hands sternly upon his hips, ears twitching forward as if preparing to take in your explanation. An explanation that you felt could not be shared. Doing so was bound to undermine your plans, completely destroying the efforts that had been made.

“The group seems to be more than sufficient without my guidance.” You don’t dare to meet his eyes, your own orbs trained at the ground instead. In a moment’s notice his sculpted body was once again inches away from yours. His warmth came off of him in waves, along with the heady aura of alpha pheromones.

You couldn’t hold back the shiver that ran down your spine when he placed heavy hands on your shoulders and bent over your frame till you could feel his calm breath against your ear. Neteyam’s tail wrapped around your thigh. A part of your brain told you to run, understanding the alluring danger that awaited you, while the other yearned to curl up against his impressive physique.

You couldn’t understand how any omega managed to be around this male without completely dropping to their knees.

Suddenly you had some sympathy for the girls that had always fawned over him.

“Tell me the truth, sevin.” The heated words tickled at your ears and made your heart skip a beat. It was foolish to think that there was any chance of lying to Neteyam, the mighty warrior that walked with the confidence of the supernatural.

So you did.

You had scrambled to messily explain how it would be best if the two of you spent less time together. Unfortunately this unrehearsed synopsis included an approach that painted yourself as the foolish beta with a crush on the Omatikaya prince and therefore unable to handle herself around him. It was not the perspective you had hoped for, but it was the only one that could have been presented in your state of jumbled thought.

Neteyam shook his head, an almost fond smile upon his lips.

“Tanhi, you really do not like to make things easy for me.” A bitter laugh escaped his throat. The sound put you slightly on edge but there was no trace of anger in his expression. Amusement was easily perceivable in the raise of his hairless eyebrows. He had taken your humiliating and pathetic explanation in stride, in fact, he had found humor in it.

“I thought I’ve made myself clear.” You were swooped into the encirclement of his arms in one quick motion. You squeaked and braced yourself against the warm muscles of his abdomen. “You are the mate I seek.”

His words had thrown you into a spiral, your heartstrings plucking into rhythms of heightened emotion. It was almost too much to take in. A part of you still found security in denying these bold claims but there had been too much evidence at that point. Neteyam Sully had in fact been courting you.

His head lowered, nuzzling at your face until you finally looked up at him. Your lips were only a breath apart.

“If you’ll have me.” Neteyam whispered.

There was no fighting the longings of your heart at that rate. That night you had agreed to his courting and within a month the two of you had been madly in love and preparing to officially mate.

The process was faster, seemingly faster than anything else in your life. Night had always slowed you down from progressing in the normal rhythm of Na’vi milestones, but Neteyam had broken that pattern for you.

You can still remember the vivid sensation of his tendrils connecting with your own. Those sparks of electricity that had created a direct line to his innermost feelings and thoughts. There was great solace to be found in the surging feelings of love and adoration he had for you, something you had been able to tap into. Still, nothing could ever compare with the way you felt for Neteyam.

He’s your world. Your light. Your sun.

Being with him feels like finally having a taste of those golden rays. You can see it in his smile. In the shake of his shoulders when his laughter trickles from soft lips. In the unashamed sparkle that overtakes his eyes in a coating whenever they land on you after a long day of training.

Neteyam has become your world in only a matter of a few months. It is hard to imagine how you went so many years without this unbreakable connection between the two of you. Each night you wake up to the warm embrace of your mate who has come home from a long day of training. Soft kisses are placed along your eyelids, cheeks, and nose until your thick lashes flutter and you regain consciousness.

The searing envious looks of other females can be felt at your back when the two of you join the rest of the clan for dinner each night, but it is only white noise in the presence of your handsome mate guiding you with a hand to the small of your back. In fact it becomes less than a passing memory when Neteyam goes on to share the events of the day in great detail, usually pulling out a tucked away gift he has found for you along the trails of his adventures.

There is so much hidden beneath that emanating exterior of perfection that Neteyam upholds. He strips away those layers only for you, usually among the flowering meadow the two of you lay in while stargazing. The stories often end with your mate trailing off into a groggy murmur until the air fills with the sounds of his sleeping breaths. You prefer to stay tucked against him for a while longer, letting the moment last before you must wake him and shoo the mighty warrior back home for some much needed rest.

While he sleeps you venture from the hut to forage and hunt, although Neteyam prefers to accompany you during dangerous hunts. You decide that what he doesn’t know can’t hurt him. He is known to be an overprotective alpha anyway. Once food has been secured and your adventures have come to a close, you slip back into the darkened hut before the first break of dawn. Those specially made thick curtains are the difference between life and death for you.

Although the tent has been sufficient for years, Neteyam continues to add to its layers. He is constantly worrying about the vulnerabilities of the hut, convinced that one slip could bring catastrophic consequences to his mate. So he works with his father to constantly rebuild and strengthen the exterior walls. There are times where you remind him of how unnecessary these actions are but Neteyam is undeterred by these conversations. So you let your mate continue his projects. If it brings him peace of mind to obsess over the structure then it must be doing some good.

Things are great for the first month. Nothing sexual occurs during those first few weeks of being newly mated, out of respect to you. There is no denying that Neteyam has had experience in the ways of pleasuring females but you on the other hand have never been close to intimate with someone else. As a couple you decide to take things slow. However, you can not help but admire the restraint Neteyam shows when you catch the shift of his pheromones into that of lust or see the tightness of his loincloth after a particularly long make out session.

Were it any other alpha you are sure that the time would have come for him to become impatient and work towards persuading you to go further with him. However, Neteyam knows that you are shy and nervous. He puts your needs before his own and constantly assures you that he is happy to wait so long as you feel comfortable when the time is right.

Your apprehension has slowly been melting away. The soft caresses that travel along your form sends a burning thrill that is exotic to you. Moments where you are brave enough to straddle his lap while kissing, the friction of his groin against your core is electric. These new feelings have been quickly festering and building inside of you. The nerves have slowly morphed into alluring curiosity. It has been becoming harder to hold back.

For this reason, you’ve decided to tell Neteyam tonight that you are ready. Finally, the bond created through tsaheylu will be strengthened and confirmed by the intertwining of each other’s bodies.

The last hints of sunshine have disappeared behind the moon. This time you wake before Neteyam has a chance to come wake you up himself. The nerves that bundle into a coil in your stomach have kept you from sleeping in so you decide to seek him out yourself. It shouldn’t be long till he is back from an exhibition with Jake.

The village is lively with reuniting families after a prosperous day of duties. It's a familiar sight that has always brought a warmth to your heart, especially that of small children running to their mothers or fathers with grabby hands. There are times where you imagine sending your own child to wobble excitedly towards Neteyam, spun through the air by the mighty warrior that you are lucky enough to call your mate.

High in the trees, hidden by the walls of a family hut you hear the familiar voice of Lo’ak. A smile tugs at your lips, confident that Neteyam is sure to be with his brother. However, that excitement is dampened slightly when the responding voice is not your mate’s but Unip’s.

“I just don’t know how long he thinks this can go on.” Unip sighs.

“Well you know how Neteyam is. He will find a way to succeed and if not, he will die trying.” Lo’ak snorts, but there is a hint of concern in his nonchalant tone. It’s a timber that makes you halt in your tracks and ears twitch to hear the conversation.

“It’s only going to get worse, you know. Once he is Olo’eyktan, half a night’s rest will not be enough anymore. He already looks half dead.”

There is a silence that follows, only filled by the sound of your own heart thumping.

“You’re never going to convince him otherwise, bro.” Lo’ak responds, amused tone faltering greatly.

Stepping forward, you curve yourself around a thick tree trunk in effort to discreetly get a better look at the pair. Lo’ak’s back is facing towards you but even from this low vantage point, the lines of his tense muscle are easy to spot. Your golden eyes have become specialized for seeing in the dark after all these years, allowing a better image of his form and mannerisms. You are used to reading people’s expressions and body language with only the dim glow of eclipse.

“Stubborn skxawng.” Unip shakes his head before leaning against the sturdy trunk. His scowl is illuminated by the soft red glow of a patch of sprouting flowers. The sight makes your stomach twist.

Have things truly gotten this bad?

“Neteyam won’t leave her. You and I both know that. All that can be done is make peace with it.” Lo’ak shrugs his shoulders.

“And watch him turn into an old man in a few years. Those bags are sure to be bad for his pretty boy appearance.” Unip quips back, causing both the males to break out into laughter.

The tension visibly eases between them but you are not laughing. In fact, you can feel the beginning of those twisting nerves pushing bile up your throat. All joyful anticipation has washed from your features, replaced with dread and horror.

Your feet drum against the forest floor, stuck on autopilot and effectively taking you home. The beginning of streaming tears threaten to drop past your eyes.

It’s true that Neteyam has been tired but it isn’t till now that you reply back your interactions and his recent appearance. Those dark circles aren’t as prevalent in the light of eclipse, perhaps they are more telling in daylight. Neteyam has a way of falling asleep in a matter of seconds once hitting the mat but you have always assumed that to be a part of his nature. Some people are naturally deep sleepers.

However, now, all of these signs appear in a different light for you. Each conversation is played back in your head but of course Neteyam has never let his weaknesses show, especially ones that could be brought on by you. You know this and yet it is only now that you scold yourself for not being more perceptive, for not seeking advice and perspective from those around him.

His family and friends have an advantage that you can not achieve. Surely they would be the first to notice his changes in demeanor and health. They are the ones watching him work, train, and interact more closely with clan members. You have never been more envious of those walking in the sun in your entire life. This condition has always been a hassle for you but now it has turned into true heartache.

This weakness that Eywa has given you is no longer just affecting you but now your perfect mate. This disease has spread to him in a way you scold yourself for not anticipating.

How is he supposed to become Olo’eyktan, protecting and guiding the People all while being tethered to you?

Eywa has destined your life to be forever restricted to the shadows, but that is not Neteyam’s path.

You can spot the familiar dark canvases of your hut in the trees up ahead. No doubt Neteyam has already returned home at this point, if not then he will soon. Less than an hour earlier you were ecstatic to see him but now the thought of seeing those tired eyes makes you want to curl up into a ball.

Needing more time to process, you opt to take a different route, one that leads to a secluded waterfall. Safe in the greenery and now sitting in the shallow area of the glowing water, you take a moment to breathe. Water trickles into a soothing pattern that has been associated with your memories in this found sanctuary.

Truly, none of this should be a surprise. This ailment has been the driving course of your life thus far and you’ve grown used to it, letting go of certain aspects that are not meant for you. Neteyam is just another one of those. He is beyond your reach. Keeping him here would only hurt the clan. They need a leader that can be with them, present both physically and mentally. For the greater good it is time to let him become that Olo’eyktan.

Perhaps you would have accepted this fact and stuck to it earlier on were it not for the great love you hold for him. Neteyam Sully holds your heart and soul effortlessly in his hands. There will never be another that lights up your life the same way he does and truth be told, you don’t want there to be. Forever your first and only love.

Regardless, the time for being selfish is over.

Some Na’vi have the honor of dying a warrior’s death, going down in the name of protecting the People. Others sacrifice their time and energy serving the clan daily in the name of Eywa. You have been kept back from either of these duties so it makes sense that giving up the future Olo’eyktan would be your contribution.

After all, how are you supposed to serve as Tsahik with your limitations?

This makes sense. Your brian tells you this is the logical solution. Life will go on. You will return back to a life that you have come to be content with over the years and Neteyam will find a proper mate that can serve The People by his side.

Still, it is impossible to ignore the cracks that are slowly developing in your heart. It is difficult to imagine a life without your true love. The thought alone has a sob crawling up your throat. This sound however is morphed into a strange shriek when a pair of muscular arms suddenly grasp and pull you back against a hard chest.

The water splashes around the two of you and you can feel the rumble of Neteyam’s laughter as you are awkwardly shifted in his arms.

“Baby girl, you are really off your game today.” He teases fondly before nuzzling his face into the curve of your neck. An efficient shuffle has you more familiarly settled between the corded muscle of his toned thighs. Instinctually you lean back against him.

“What? Nothing to say in your defense?”

“Oh yeah uh just tired.” You lamely respond.

“Silly Tanhi, today has barely begun.”

For you.

The day has barely begun for you and only you. Every other Na’vi enjoy the blissful alignment of the sun and their ‘days’. You are the outlier.

Gathering up your courage you finally lift yourself onto your knees and turn to face him. Neteyam grins, but for once you aren’t focused on the gleams of those pearly teeth. Sure enough there are dark circles in a crescent shape beneath his eyes. You reach out to thumb at those dark contrasts. The alpha blissfully misreads this as cupping his cheek. He leans into the touch and his smile broadens.

“My sweet sevin.” He mumbles. Your stomach tightens back into that knot. Finally, he seems to notice the shift in your demeanor. The smile falters and he places his hand over the one cupping his cheek. The large veined hand completely covers yours.

“What’s wrong?”

It seems an impossible task to go through with what you know must be done. A part of you considers holding off, letting it last a little longer before you lose him forever. However, that would only result in a more sleep deprived Omatikaya Prince and the suffering of future Olo’eyktan.

The longer you take to respond the faster the amusement in those golden orbs declines. He calls your name softly and turns his head to gently peck your palm.

“I just-” You steady yourself. The words feel like acid crawling up your throat and sitting pressed against him only makes it burn more. Cautiously you detach yourself completely and settle down on the colorful rocks lining the shallow river.

Neteyam immediately stiffens. His tail curls up into high alert and his ears twitch back slightly, but still you can see the now fake smile plastered on his face.

“You’re…tired.” It’s a weak start but they are the only words you can force out.

There is a flicker of surprise in his features but it melts away into a mocking eye roll. The corners of his lips are back to being turned up in a more genuine manner.

“Well of course I’m a little tired Tanhi. Every mighty warrior should be if he’s done his job right.” The alpha chuckles and you can almost taste the deviation of his pheromones. He confidently reaches out to take your hand in his. “But never too tired to spend time with my sweet little star.”

The cool rush of water is a dramatic contrast to the warm grasp Neteyam has on your hand. It feels like fire that curls up your veins and pushes tears to the back of your eyes. It’s too painful to be close like this. To see him obliviously flirt and cuddle as if all is well when you know deep down that this will be the last time you feel his touch.

“No, I mean exhausted. Ma Neteyam-” You shut your mouth tight. That phrase was so easily in your arsenal of vocabulary but it’s time to start training yourself to stop using it. You brush the circles under his eyes again. “You haven’t been getting enough sleep.”

Realization seems to dawn for him.

“Oh you mean my eyes. Lo’ak was teasing me earlier about it. Didn’t think it would bother you so much, sevin, but I’m sure my grandmother has some herbs to lighten the color.” He laughs lightly.

“No, Neteyam. This is bad for you. Staying up every night only to push yourself to the limit the next day. Living in that darkened hut. Spending every last fiber of energy you have spending time with me. Taking care of me-”

“That is what mates do, Tanhi. I don’t want it any other way-”

“I am bad for you!”

The words cut through the air and suddenly every remnant of the playful atmosphere has disappeared.

“Don’t say stuff like that, Tanhi.” His voice is firm, stern enough to be considered reprimanding. Neteyam eyes darken onto a duller glow. The musky scent of your mate shifts into that of a stronger presence. It’s moments like that that you remember how distinct his second gender is.

“Neteyam, you know I’m right. This condition is no longer just hurting me but you too. Playing this game of back and forth makes no sense.”

He sits up straight, back stiff as a rod. It takes everything in you to hold that gaze without bursting into tears and backing down. The flicker of his tail has turned into frantic swatting as his lips curl downwards.

“What are you trying to say, love?”

You gulp and prepare yourself to utter words that weigh heavy in your heart.

“We have to end this.”

Silence drags on. The rush of running water and purring wildlife is the only thing that fills the air. Your tail swishes nervously in the water, causing a slight splash. No matter which way you squint or tilt your head, Neteyam’s expression is unreadable. Even your enhanced night vision is not enough to fully understand or anticipate the brewing emotions beneath those golden eyes.

“No.”

Your mind sputters to a halt at the snipped response. He’s giving you nothing to work with.

“Neteya-”

“Where is all of this coming from, yawne?” He reaches forward to cup your cheek but you stand up before he can. This close proximity is becoming too much. Perhaps it’s cowardly, but you need a reprieve from his love-filled gaze and tender touches. Otherwise, there is no way you will be able to do what needs to be done. You wonder if he knows this as you are met with a toned chest at eye level blocking your path.

“Did something happen?”

“No.”

“Then why are you so worried all of a sudden?” He pleads for an answer but you have finally managed to slip past him and wade out of the water. The drum of your feet rings in your ears, taking you to Eywa knows where. Neteyam is hot on your heels.

“It’s not just worry, it’s logic, Neteyam. Can’t you see? You are going to be Olo’eyktan. The People need a leader that won’t be tied to some nocturnal Na’vi that drains the last bit of energy you have left.”

The alpha goes to interject but the words are flying out of your mouth at such a speed at this rate, he has no opportunity.

“They will need a Tsahik that can do more than just work a night shift. Not to mention one that actually understand healing protocal-”

“My grandmother has already offered to teach you.” He counters, stomping feet practically nipping at your heels. It’s not that you mean to walk away from him, but the dam that holds your suffocating emotions at bay is starting to crack and crumble. One look at him could weaken your resolve. This has to be done fast, ripped off like an adhesive bandage.

“You deserve to be with someone that can lead The People with you. A mate that can serve both you and the clan in a way I never can. An omega that is a proper mate.”

A strong hand clamps around your bicep and spins you around. Neteyam glowers down at you with an intensity that is borderline desperate. The tears are starting to leave a glaze over your eyes, even as you avoid his own at any cost.

“You are my mate. You are the woman that I choose to spend the rest of my days with.” He tries to gently tilt your face towards him by grabbing your chin, but you flick it off. “We are mated before Eywa.” The crack in his voice tears at your heart.

“I shouldn’t have let it go on this long, I’m sorry. I foolishly let myself believe that you and I are meant to be but now it is clear that my head was simply in the clouds.” A sob thickens your voice until it is barely tangible. Words are failing you and you idly wonder how many more you will truly be able to manage in this state.

You attempt to flee from his embrace once more, just a moment to escape that heartbreaking stare that follows your every move. Neteyam holds you gently by the biceps but there is enough force there to keep you in place.

“We are, Tahni. All these other obstacles are just that, obstacles. Things we can overcome.” He slumps down, determined to finally have your eyes meet his. The curtain of your flowing hair is a weak shield against these efforts. You can feel the heat of his escalating breath tickle at your cheeks. He swoops in closer slowly, with the caution of closing in on a skittish prey. “It’s just you and me, little star.”

The flat of his nose finally rests against yours, lips only a sudden movement away.

There are promises of familiar comfort and happiness in this intimate position. Your nature keens towards his gentle touch. It prompts you to hide away every other concern, worried that it could break this moment of tranquility.

However, that is exactly what you do.

“You have to break it.”

There is a pause, a moment of shock that you take advantage of. Slipping out his hold, you watch realization slink across his features. It’s blood chilling, the look of horror that is clearly evident upon his handsome face. It’s a rare thing to render Neteyam speechless. He has grown up learning how to lead and command a room with confidence and grace. Seeing him now, mouth agape as his thoughts lag, it’s easier to see that there is simply a normal man behind the mighty warrior.

A male that you have managed to strip away the light in his eyes, all evidence of excitement lost.

It is now that you can truly see the aching restlessness and lost nights of sleep in his demeanor. He wilts before you.

“You don’t mean that.” He insists, voice now hollow of its usual domineering confidence.

“I do.” The timber of your voice shivers and shakes, doing nothing to strengthen your resolve. Still, the lost look that Neteyam sends you absolutely wrenches at your heart. “It’s what’s best for everyone.”

Words that are meant to reassure him at least slightly only make his tail halt movement, obvious that the phrase only digs the dagger deeper into his chest.

“Everyone?” He whispers, hairless eyebrows drawing together. Hesitant steps lead you backwards, eager to begin your journey away from this tornado of darkened emotions. Away from the raincloud you have created between the two of you. “You…this is what you want?”

Want.

That small word is a palpable distinction. To change this argument from what needs to be done to the inner workings of your desires and dreams. To veer it towards the ever flowing river of devotion and love you know will always be in your heart for him. It’s the one move that leaves you completely defenseless.

This is the last thing that you want.

He has to know that. He must know that. And perhaps that is why he faces you with this question head on, forcing you to say the words out loud. It’s a towering wall that you have no hopes of climbing. Lying is not your strong suit. Neteyam knows that.

“Please Neteyam.” You send your final plea before turning on your heel and bolting. Vanishing into the trees before he has a second to form one syllable.

Lying isn’t your strength, but hiding is something you are familiar with.

“She’ll probably cool down.” Lo’ak reassures him, handing a leaf with larvae to Neteyam.

“What did I do wrong?” Neteyam wonders out loud. It’s difficult for Lo’ak to tell whether or not that question is rhetorical. The eldest Sully’s eyes are focused on the horizon, he’s lost. Off somewhere else.

“Nothing, bro! Not everything is that simple.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Neteyam sees the wooden cup of strong drink pushed toward him but he declines. Drinking is the last thing he needs right now, although it is tempting. These past two days have been pure torture and sorrow. Washing every clouding thought away with the swig of fermented fruit would surely keep his mind off of you for a while, but it would never stop the permanent ache in his chest.

Although Neteyam knows he must look awful because even his father encourages him to drink, despite the duties he is set to carry out the next day. Most nights he is advised to keep his wits about him, but Jake has let up since the event.

“There has to be something I could’ve said. Perhaps something I can say now.”

“Bro, you’ve already said more than enough. If your constant notes and begging haven’t got her to let you into the hut, I don’t think words are the problem here.” A grimace is etched into Lo’ak’s features but Neteyam turns away from the sight. He can’t handle the look of pity that his family seems to constantly be shooting him.

He looks miserable. He is miserable. Every Na’vi with eyes can see that much. However, he doesn’t want sympathy. He needs solutions. A plan that will set things right again. Anything to bring his littler start back into his arms.

“Ma Teyam,” Neteyiri gently coos, haunching forward to tuck on the tangled braids behind his ear. “Perhaps it is time to give her some space.”

Usually his mother’s presence has the power to soothe away the worst of his worries, but today all he can do is sigh at her words. Sitting in problems has never been his strong suit. Neteyam is used to problem solving. Coming up with a strategy and executing it until the issue is nothing but a distant memory. He prays to Eywa that this too will become just that. Something that can be laughed at down the road.

However, sitting here now surrounded by people and never feeling more lonely, it’s hard to imagine ever laughing at such a thing.

Neteyam continues to pick at the grass next to the untouched meal. The sun has been down for over an hour now. Dinner is wrapping up and there is still no sight of you…again. Every crunch of a leaf or flitter of voices has him turning to search for your small frame in the darkness. It’s an effort that leaves him empty handed every time but, no matter the frequency of failure he can’t stop himself from whipping his head around anyway.

“You know, there was a time that I was upset with your father. Livid, actually. And yet here we are today.” Neytiri almost purrs, trying to comfort her son.

“Yeah and did he wait around and give you space?” The words come out harsher than intended but Neytiri doesn’t tell him off like usual. Instead her ears pin back and she runs a thumb across his cheek. Jake and Neytiri lock eyes from across the fire, a silent communication that has Jake clearing his throat.

“I’m not sure if I’m the prime example in this scenario, kid.” A deep chuckle accentuates Jake’s words. He goes to close his mouth and leave it at that but his mate sends him one fierce look that lets him know he is far from done comforting their eldest. “I mean uh truth be told, I was an absolute knucklehead before I met your mother.”

“Still are.” She corrects him.

Jake doesn’t try to fight against the claim, but he does nervously clasp the back of his neck, searching for the right words to say.

“Tanhi still hasn’t eaten. Must go.” Neteyam abruptly calls, on his feet within a heartbeat. He gently cradles his untouched meal in the palm of his hand as he navigates his way out of the circle of his family. Neytiri sighs and Jake sends her an apologetic look as they watch their son slither off into the night once again.

Even Tuk sends sad eyes in the direction of her older brother as he walks away.

Upon reaching the dark curtains of your hut, Neteyam is unsure whether or not you still reside inside. There is no sign of light emanating inwards. For a moment he is convinced that you have slipped out during his absence, but then there is a ruffle of covers that his ears manage to pick up. Stalking forward carefully, he leans in to pick up on every sound possible.

Even with his alpha hearing, there is little to no noise coming from the hut. Or at least no sound that is useful to him in any way. He wonders what you are up to within those darkened walls. His hindbrain urges him to go inside and find out for himself, cradle you in his arms till there are promises of never leaving again. However, he knows better than that.

Neteyam waits to be invited in.

“Tanhi?” The sound echoes through the night air, but no response comes. With a sigh he kneels down by the entrance, cautiously pushing the leaf underneath the thick rim of fabric.

“You missed dinner again.” Neteyam knows he shouldn’t expect a response at this point, but his tail still naturally droops to the floor when one doesn’t come. “I brought some for you.”

He waits once more, but silence hangs heavy in the air. Neteyam’s ears twitch to focus in on the minute sounds again. The shallow breathing is confirmation enough of your presence. A part of him almost wishes that he is talking to a blank piece of fabric. If you had left then he could have at least spent that anxious energy scouring the forest for your slim frame. If you had left it would give him hope that you’ve hunted, eaten, gone on a walk. Anything that isn’t sitting in your hut.

“Do me a favor, baby. Please eat something. Maybe you have been when I’m not breathing down your neck,” He gives a humorless laugh. “But…I just want to make sure you’re healthy. I’m starting to get worried.”

When the silence continues he doesn’t leave immediately. The weight of the stress and heartache is tangible. He can feel it in his bones. He can sense it when in the lag of his maneuvers and movements during flight in his training. Truth be told, Neteyam is sure that it’s visible to others, shining through in his trudging walk to and fro.

Sitting here in the grass, the same place he had spent that first night you started icing him out, he can feel the weight of sleep pulling him downwards. The muscles of his body scream in protest at every movement. Physically his body is ready to give way, but his hindbrain weaves together signs of distress all night long.

His instincts yearn to be close to you again, close to his mate who he shares a special connection with that nothing can replace. At times it is painful, that bond between the two of you. Neteyam remembers many days where that connection has been physically fortified by your time together, binding tighter with every brush of his fingers along your skin. However, he did not anticipate the effects of the opposite reaction.

Going to sleep alone and cold, leaves a heavy weight on his chest. At times it feels almost suffocating. Sleeping outside of your hut doesn’t erase these pains, but it does dull them slightly. He wonders if you’ve ever stepped over him during his slumber. Actively trying to or not, his senses remain on high alert throughout the night. He can wake at the drop of a leaf, false hope that it may be your small form finally stepping past those heavy curtains.

“Neteyam.” His head whips around at the voice, but it isn’t your honey timber that flits through his ears. Instead it comes from behind him, where Kiri stands with her hands woven together in front of her.

“What’s wrong?”

Not bothering to answer, she instead motions for him to follow her. He glances back at the entrance of your hut, but one look at Kiri’s down turned lips has him groggily shifting back onto his feet. She doesn’t speak till the two of them are out of ear shot.

“Mom and Dad sent you?” Neteyam guesses, tail already drooping between his legs. It bothers him that his parents are rushing to bandage things up, treating him like a child. Advice is appreciated at the best of times, but this is his life. He is an adult, and has been for years now. The rift that has been fortified between you two is his problem to solve and therefore his choice on how to fix it.

“No, just thought I would save you from making a fool of yourself.” She continues to effortlessly lead him away from the hut.

“I’m just dropping some food off.”

“I know.” There is no hint of mocking or disbelief in her tone. She simply grabs his hand gently and guides him back along the path home. Neteyam braces himself for a spew of advice but it never comes. Kiri to his surprise is silent, no hint of tension lingering between them. Still, he knows what message is being conveyed. No matter how much it hurts, he can’t continue to barricade your front door.

It’s moments like these that Neteyam comes to truly admire how much his younger sister has grown up. She prances through the forest with a humble confidence. Each step taken with the certainty of belonging. Kiri no longer needs others to tell her who she is. Similarly she feels no need to press her opinions on her older brother. She waits patiently. As if she knows that he will come to her when the time is right.

It is a quality he looks upon with great fondness and gratitude.

Life has thrown you more obstacles than you care to count. This condition has been a stumbling block your entire life, but you refuse to let it keep you from the finishing line. You consider yourself a persevering person, one that is not easily taken down. When things get difficult you have always been taught to gather your bearings and get to work. Some sacrifices are painful but meant to be left behind if they are keeping you from fulfilling a happy and purposeful life.

So for the first few days, you try to get back into your normal routine. The first night was spent weaving baskets together through the blurred vision of your tears. The basket came out looking like it had been mauled by a Palulukan. Regardless you continued to attempt getting back into your old routine, however those were usually filled with night hunts, an activity you were terrified of seeing Neteyam at. So you declined.

However, truth be told, it only takes twenty four hours to realize that this heartbreak is intruding upon everything you do. You open your eyes as sunset turns to Eclipse and the first thing that surfaces is the dread at needing to go to communal dinner. So, you push dinner off. Neteyam is persistent in bringing you a plate each night, usually saying a few apologies and begging once again for you to come out.

Your lips are raw and sore from biting into them in order to keep sobs at bay every time he comes to visit. Those first few nights he spent laying outside your hut was an awful mixture of longing and agony. His potent essence was easily carried through the night wind, constantly bringing it to your senses. You had twisted in the thin blankets on your hammock to stop yourself from going out there and cuddling next to him.

On the third night, he doesn’t stay.

You expect to feel relieved when he silently sets the serving of food down and leaves.

And yet, there is a part of you that longs for the draw of his smooth voice, no matter how distraught and rough it has become over the past few days. A part of you seems to also intrinsically sense his presence, even in the midst of slumber. Now that he spends his nights away from your hut, the emotional turmoil has become too much to handle.

Simple tasks pose as daunting accomplishments, ones that already feel like impending defeat. So, you slowly start losing those habits too. Your eyes run out of tears to shed so instead you spend more than a reasonable amount of time pondering on your life. You consider what it is that brought you to these circumstances, questioning whether or not you were the one to blame for this heartbreak. Perhaps, you were the one easily swayed into promises of fairy tales.

Before you know it a whole week has passed and you haven’t stepped foot outside. Recognizing this fact makes you feel pathetic and helpless, something that you don’t take a liking to. So, with red rimmed eyes and a congested nose, you take up a new purpose. Wielding together weapons from the materials in your hut.

Although they’re nothing to gawk at, the finished results are enough to convince yourself that you are contributing to the welfare of the clan. The steps are repetitive and allow your thoughts to wander while doing so. By the second week you have donated a fair amount to the hunting parties without having to leave your home, thanks to the kindness of your mother.

Your parents drop in frequently, but it’s obvious that they too find these visits painful. It’s an emotional ball and chain to see you wither away into something different. Visits that used to be full of vibrant laughter and storytelling now consist mostly of their own updates and pleas for you to come outside. Each time you assure them that you will…soon.

It’s not a lie, at least not to you.

Despite the physical ache of your heart every time you think of Neteyam’s smiling face and the bond that is now nothing but dust between you, there is still hope in your heart. A hope that someday you will recover from these lovesick feelings and finally be able to look upon the Omatikaya prince as any other clan member would. Purpose will return to your everyday tasks and Neteyam will only reside in your mind as Olo’eyktan of the Omatikaya.

Still, you would be naive to ignore the weighted awareness of his presence that consumes you every time he comes to drop meals off. You can sense him before his footsteps are even audible. Occasionally, he will say a few encouraging words or promises of solution but some nights he simply places the food there and stares at it sadly before disappearing once more. Both instances strangle your heart in their grasp.

You thought that his scent would lessen once the bond was broken, but you figure it is alpha status to thank for always sending his essence of fresh pine through your hut at each visit. In some ways it feels like the only full breaths you took. The woven walls still allow air in, but only breezes warped with his scent remind you of being outside.

It’s on the two week mark that there is a shift in the miserable routine. No meal is brought to the entryway. Hours go by and Neteyam never comes by. You’ve been living off of those nightly meals and while one meal is not hardly enough to maintain a status of full health, its loss is even worse. At first, it appears that Neteyam has given up. He is tired of chasing after you and rightfully so you suppose. This is meant to be a step in the right direction, but you cry yourself to sleep that night. Apparently, your body had an extra storage of tears after all.

However, when it happens again, your theories start to change. A small slice of fruit is left outside on a leaf by the curtains in place of a meal. It’s delicious with juice squirting along your tongue in a dramatic symphony of taste. It’s the type of experience that leaves one wanting for more. Initially you are disappointed when the small piece is gone, but you remember where this food comes from. It would only take a five minute walk to approach the communal fire and snatch some away for yourself.

Only moments away from dipping outside that entry way for the first time in two weeks, you have another thought.

Neteyam only put one piece.

Would it not have been easier to leave a whole fruit rather than take the time to cut and separate one morsel of it onto a leaf as an offering.

It wasn’t an offering, it was an enticement.

You stay behind, trying to forget the sweet tang of the dessert.

Sure enough the suspicion is correct when the next night one piece of wrapped chocolate is left outside with a note.

Found this during the raid this week. There’s a whole bag left sitting in my hut. Let me know if you want some more.

-Neteyam

The chocolate is a tiny ball wrapped in a red textured material that is unfamiliar to Pandora. Chocolate is something you never knew of before Neteyam. However, now it has become one of your all time favorite delicacies, especially with the rarity of its availability. Neteyam took a great liking to showing you around the outpost and the stocked treasures they were stealing from the old Hell’s Gate post and the new trains they were constantly raiding. He would explain the random customs and stories of Sky People that he hears from his father while carefully unwrapping the delicious pieces for you.

Some days you would even have him read some of the English text, whether from the wrappers or other books that are kept around the outpost for the human scientists to enjoy at their leisure. You never understand a word of what he says, but the sounds are fascinating to hear in Neteyam’s familiar timber. Although the Mother Tongue of the Sky Demons, you’ve always been fascinated by Neteyam’s ability to speak it. Something very distinctly attractive about his extra abilities.

You sigh and thumb at the round ball of chocolate. It melts on your tongue, creating an explosion of sweet smooth sensations. Leave it to Neteyam to try and lure you out through your love of chocolate. That night you flatten out the wrapper, running your thumb over the English text that appears as nothing more than scribbles to you. It serves as a painful reminder of the golden memories the two of you have shared.

It remains clamped in your fist the entire day.

Heavy eyelids blinking open slowly, you can still feel the strange texture of that wrapper between your fingers. Contrary to your lack of activity, your body feels sore. Every muscle seems to be wound the wrong way and the air in your hut feels moist and stuffy. Stretching out, your foot hits the food supplies basket you keep and knocks it over. You stumble to put the object away, or rather you try to before you realize that it’s empty.

The last of your supplies is gone.

Regardless of your feelings and fears, you need to go outside today. It’s time to face the music.

Your toes curl and feet flex before carefully shifting to stand. Pushing aside clusters of baskets and tools you finally breach the front entryway of your hut. Expecting the air to have cooled down by now, your skin prickles strangely at the feeling of heat against your back. You rush to throw off whatever blanket or item of clothing that must have stuck to you but then your eyes are blinded. Sheer light invades your vision, drenching every sight in white.

Stumbling across the forest floor, it truly takes you more than a moment to understand what is happening. The harsh light, the foreign heat. This is sunlight.

A pure beam of sunlight that has not disappeared behind the moon yet.

Your delayed reaction finally allows you to search for the entryway and try to scramble towards safety but it’s impossible to see with the brightness of the world turned up to one hundred. Your eyes can’t manage to stay open for more than a second, each time feeling a burning sensation that is unbearable. Soon, though, it seems to be too late as your limbs grow heavy and your skin heats uncomfortably. Even when that last ray of sunshine disappears, your body continues to torment you with a rising heat.

The sensations become too much. The weight of your own head drags you down. The world spins around you in disorienting directions. Only a glimpse of blue skin is caught before you collapse into someone’s arms and the world turns blissfully black again.

“Move before I kick you out.” Mo’at warns, but her tone holds a morsel of sympathy despite the strict instruction.

You are laid out along the mat of her healer’s tent with half the Sully family gathered around. Neteyam can hardly keep his hands off of you, constantly checking to see if you have cooled down yet. Each time renders him disappointed, ears folding back against his head. Mo’at is quickly losing patience as she is constantly swatting the boy away in order to apply the series of healing balms.

“She’s burning up.” He protests, but finally moves out of her way. His idle hands find a new place along his knees where the blunt nails dig into his skin. Kiri and Tuk surround their brother but are careful to not impede too much on his space. His panicked dread rolls off of him in waves, a palpable tension that can be felt by everyone in the tent.

“How long was she exposed?”

“I don’t know. Can’t be more than a few minutes maybe. She was hardly past the entrance when I found her…I….is she going to be ok?” His voice cracks as tears finally well up over his golden orbs. Tuk places her small hand on his shoulder.

“Only the Great Mother knows that.” She pauses, looking up to see her grandson’s crumbling composure. “She is hot. Her temperature needs to drop significantly.”

The message doesn’t seem to settle on Neteyam. His gaze continues to focus on your unconscious face.

“Neteyam.” His head finally snaps up at his grandmother’s stern voice. “Go fetch me cold water from the river.” A basin is handed to the alpha but she can already tell there is reluctance in his expression.

“Now.” It’s harsher than Mo’at would like to be but she knows that getting the concerned alpha outside of the tent is essential for her to complete the healing rituals. His presence is a distraction that has her own emotions tugging her away from the work at hand.

Neteyam purses his lips and sends one last glance towards you. He cradles your cheek and leans down to softly press a kiss to your forehead, whispering promises to return. Then finally, he rushes out of the tent, driven by the given task.

The hours rush and drag simultaneously for Neteyam. It becomes difficult to believe that it has already been a full twenty four hours and yet every minute that your eyes are not open feels like a year to him. Jake recruits Norm and some of the other scientists to take a look at you in the outpost. Moat is naturally displeased by the change at first but even she can’t deny that the old metal portable is a safer place for you to hide from the sun. Thick blankets and rugs are hung over the windows to keep the rays of sunshine out.

Between the expertise of the scientists with their modern technology and the healing powers of Tsahik, things begin to look grim when there is little to no change in your state. Neteyam becomes increasingly more tense with every passing hour that yields no result. At some point his family stops trying to convince him to take breaks. Tuk takes it upon herself to gather and deliver a good serving from the communal fire for her older brother at every meal.

Kiri is constantly teetering between helping her grandmother wrap cooling salves of thick leaves on your skin and foraging through the forest for different materials that could be used to create various healing ointments.

Lo’ak tries to provide his brother with some pleasant company. If not that, then at least an annoying younger brother that can keep his mind off the matter for a few minutes. He tells jokes and shares random stories, usually featuring young alphas and the things their idiotic pride leads them to do. He has a plethora of these events saved up, having been training the new batch of future warriors almost daily. Those stories shift to other couples’ drama and fights when Neteyam laments over the past few weeks, assuring his brother that rough patches are normal in relationships and that perhaps he is not the worst skxawng to be found in the forest.

Jake and Neytiri watch the scene with sorrowful eyes, discussing in the privacy of their home what needs to be done for their son and you.

At hour thirty six, you begin to squirm. Every muscle seems to creek with each movement, seemingly as rusty and worn as the door to the outpost that takes an extra shove to open. It’s the burning heat that you notice next. It seems to travel along your veins and cover you in a suffocating cloud. It brings on feelings of almost claustrophobic symptoms.

Finally, the flutter of your lashes reveal your golden eyes to the synthetic lighting of the outpost makeshift hospital wing. Only one electric light is turned on down the hallway. The rest of the ambience comes from lit candles scattering the surfaces around you. Their flicker is soft and soothing, but it’s the familiar scent of timber and pine that has your muscles finally relaxing.

The surface beneath your head is cool to the touch, you rub your cheek against it.

“Tanhi.”

That soft makeshift pillow is his thigh. Your already burning cheeks seem to reach new levels of inflamed rose color as you drowsily look up at him.

“You’re awake.” His voice is thick with emotion, almost choking the sounds from his throat. On its own volition your hand shakily reaches up to swipe away the tear traveling down his cheek. His skin is cool to the touch, such a different contrast to the usual warmth that you remember radiating off of him in your nights together. Your thin arm shakes from the strain of holding it upwards, he grabs your wrist gently and reluctantly helps you lower it back to your side.

“Yes.” The sound comes out more hoarse and gravelly than you anticipated. You clear your throat before continuing. “How long have I been out?”

“Over a day.”

A few moments of sunlight and suddenly a day and a half has been taken from you. It’s a lot to process, especially with the hazy pounding assaulting your head with every moment. The usual strength and energy in your body seems to have greatly dissipated, leaving you feeling as nothing but a shell of your normal self. Your attempt at sitting up is not only hindered by the strain of your abs but also cut short by Neteyam’s large hands gently pushing you back down.

“No no Tanhi, just rest. Don’t strain yourself.” It’s too easy to settle your head back onto his welcoming lap. A small voice at the back of your head warns you of reversing all the progress that has been made, but it seems insignificant when Neteyam begins to tenderly brush his fingers through your hair. Nothing can take away the ache of your body and heat of your blood boiling but his touch does finally stir your heartbeat into a steady rhythm. It’s as if a weight is lifted off of you as your senses become filled with his essence. Every point of contact between you is like fire and ice. He is the ice that you welcome greatly, the only thing that seems to relieve the burning along your skin.

“I’m sorry.” You whisper, eyes almost closed once more.

“Whatever for, love?”

“I don’t mean to trouble you. I should’ve been more diligent, tracking the sun’s cycle..” Your lungs seize into a painful invisible grip, forcing a coughing fit to begin. Neteyam is quick to shush your sentence away and help you get some cool water down. His large hand rests over the heat of your forehead. The eldest Sully frowns down at you, no doubt still feeling the evidence of your raging fever.

“Hush, Tanhi. There’s no place I would rather be right now.”

You watch the shadows dance across lines of his collarbones and sharp features as he prepares another cool wrap to lay across your forehead. The grip you have on conscious thought is weak, but even at your mental peak you are sure that there is nothing more beautiful than the man above you. His harsh and sharp features that frame those kind and insightful eyes. He has an ethereal beauty that has always captured you.

“You’re going to be ok.” It’s unclear whether or not the sentiment is meant for you or rather himself. His hairless brows pinch into those familiar clenched lines. You recognize them from days he would come home to, the evidence of his still racing thoughts clearly etched into his features.

Through the constant ache of your body and heat that tries to lure you to sleep, it takes you a moment to recognize the pheromones drifting off of him. You’re surprised to find that you can still identify the shift of emotions through his essence. Supposedly your sense of smell is better than you thought for a beta. The curling sadness and anxiety that comes off of him in waves, however, is something you wish could not be so easily detected. It is foreign and strange when mixed with his calming perfume. Neteyam isn’t usually one easily frazzled.

Neteyam settles a clear plastic over your mouth and it takes a moment before you recognize it as the Avatar oxygen masks. The air filtered through it is clearer and more readily accepted by your lungs. After a few breaths you nod at him and he pulls it away again.

Silence ensues. You yearn to break it with some semblance of an apology or explanation, but the words never come. Your body has other ideas as it drifts in and out of consciousness. Several times you wake to see another member of the Sully family perched next to Neteyam. However, the oldest Sully child never leaves. The hold you have on time becomes almost nonexistent as you slip back and forth between reality and fever induced dreams.

Eventually you begin to wake periodically in Neteyam’s arms, head laying on his chest or coddled in his lap. Each time you consider saying something, knowing that he is no longer your mate. You have no claim on him and therefore no right to use him in this way, but his skin is cool and calms the sizzling heat upon your own. The very idea of creating distance between you two causes a spike of anxiety to take hold.

It would be all too easy to blame this on your fever and the aid he provides, even in your state of watered down thought you know the truth. There is a yearning to be close to him again. To feel the gentle caresses that line your lips and cheeks as you sleep. To fall into a fantasy where the two of you never split, convincing yourself that today is simply a small sick day where your mate pampers you. The natural instincts of your beta nature furthermore aches for the calming presence of an alpha. Even the simple actions of his rising and falling chest that contains a steady heartbeat lulles your nature into a submissive calm.

It is such a dramatic contrast to the empty abyss that has replaced your heart over the past few weeks. Falling into Neteyam feels natural, as expected as the waves that crash against the shore. It’s an ironic feeling to have considering the most inconvenient and problematic characteristics of your relationship. He was never meant to be yours.

You chant those words in your head, willing them to echo true.

This time, your eyes flutter lazily open to the feeling of his slim tail wrapping itself around your upper thigh. With creaky drowsiness you look up to find him fast asleep, lips parted softly with shallow breaths escaping soundlessly. Sprawled across him, head on his chest, this position resembles that of your usual sleeping position together. Or at least, what it used to be. Before the first cracks of dawn you would slip back into the tent and gently fall into his dozing embrace. It was not uncommon to find his tail slink around one of your limbs possessively all while never stirring from his unconscious state.

Looking around the dingy outpost, it’s just the two of you. The plastic material of the mask around your neck feels uncomfortable around your heated skin. You find a matching one around Neteyam’s own throat. Although showing no signs of struggling breathing, you gently place it against his lips. When the clear oxygen filtered through his lips, Neteyam stirs.

You contemplate faking sleep when his ears twitch and eyes slowly open, but they immediately land on you.

“Yawne.” Neteyam groans, voice thick with sleep. The deep rumble of his morning voice always makes your stomach do somersaults. “How are you feeling, Tanhi?”

His ears pin back when you veer away from his efforts to cup your cheek.

“A bit better.” Your arms tremble as they push against Neteyam pectorals to try and sit up properly. Despite his gentle protests, you finally manage to remain upright for the first time in days. The room spins around you. It’s only by the grace of Neteyam’s hands supporting your back that you remain sitting. “What time is it?”

It feels like night but then again the heavy blankets over the outpost windows would show no indication of broad daylight if present.

“Middle of the night.”

“Then I should go.” Your feet are barely planted on the ground before Neteyam is pulling you back into his arms.

“You don’t really think I’m going to let you out there in this condition, do you?” His chest rumbles with a stern timber, but his hold is tender and gentle. You are tempted to roll your eyes at the protective behavior, but you’re worried that doing so would put the room back into orbit again.

“You need rest.”

“I can rest at home.”

“Like hell you will.” Neteyam scoffs, using another phrase he so commonly picks up from his father. You can practically feel the protective growl that yearns to climb up his throat, but a sigh comes out in its place. “You’re shaking, Tanhi. Let me take care of you.”

His knuckles graze your cheek delicately, sending a cool shiver along your shoulders.

“I don’t think that is a good idea.”

Neteyam’s hand stills before dropping heavily to his lap. The heated breath coming from his lips tickles at the back of your neck. Were it not for your already trembling form you are sure that his presence alone would erupt goosebumps and shivers along your body. The pressing weight of silence is dizzying, tempting you to lay back down. You can practically hear the cogs in his head turning at a rapid pace.

“Please just hear me out for a moment.”

Turning around to face him takes more effort than you would like to admit. Seeing those sad golden eyes without melting takes even more.

“Five minutes is all I ask.” You hesitate, biting your bottom lip. “And if by the end of it you are sick of hearing from me then I promise I will leave you alone. My grandmother will take over caring for you and I will…respect your wishes.” His words are strangled, that suffocating dread pulling his features into a deep frown.

“Ok.”

The shimmer of hope is barely visible in his shining eyes but it still wrenches your heart.

“My entire life has been about being Olo’eyktan. I’ve watched my father lead the people since I could barely walk and since then I have always known that someday that would be me. I wake up every day and the first thought that comes to mind is what needs to be done in order to become the mighty leader that everyone expects me to be. For a long time I’ve thought that my path was already decided by Eywa. Find an omega suitable of being tsahik, settle down with her, and lead till my son can take over. I was ok with that, I’d accepted my fate.” Neteyam shifts to his knees, fingernails digging slightly into his own thighs. Apprehension spoils his scent, creating a new mixture you are unfamiliar with. It’s then that you realize you’ve never seen Neteyam nervous before.

“Then I met you.”

Your eyes dart to the laminate floor.

“I…I’m usually a lot better with words.” He chuckles nervously while rubbing the back of his neck. “It occurred to me recently that I’ve been negligent in our relationship. I never truly explained why I chose you. Why you are the person I can’t live without. Perhaps if I had we wouldn’t be in this situation now.”

“Neteyam it’s not-”

“Please let me finish, Tanhi.”

You nod softly, careful to not increase the already blooming headache pounding at your skull.

“I’ve never met anyone like you.” A weak snort transforms into a cough raking up your throat. “I don’t mean because of ailment, yawne.” He clarifies and you suddenly feel embarrassed for assuming so quickly. Neteyam pauses his little speech to reach behind and once again carefully bring a cup of water to your parched lips. Gratefully, you let the cool substance slink down your throat to soothe the scratchy ache.

Once he seems to be sure that another fit is not about to come on, Neteyam continues.

“You have this unyielding spirit, determined to forage through any storm. Eywa herself puts you in the shadows and you conquer the terrain. The air around you hums with a quiet confidence that is…” He searches for the right word. “Intoxicating.”

A laugh escapes your lips and yet you feel nothing resembling humor. Your hairless eyebrows scrunch in disbelief. Neteyam shows no acknowledgment of your reaction as he instead puts the mask back against your mouth.

“I’ve been drawn to you since that first night hunt. Surely, that isn’t a secret.” He laughs into his own mask that is raised to his lips. If only he knew how oblivious you were to his intentions those first few weeks. “You’re fiercely determined and independent yet hold a gentle empathy and kindness for those around you that I could only ever hope to imitate. And stubborn too.” Neteyam chuckles with a shake of his head. “Fucking stubborn enough to tell a dumb alpha like me off, consequences be damned.”

Your lungs can only manage a simple huffed laugh, but the corners of your lips are already turning upwards subconsciously.

“When I’m around you,” His eyes pierce through you. “I can finally bear that weighted pressure of expectations on my chest. You make it light.” Neteyam leans forward and tucks a stray strand of hair behind your upturned ear. “My little star.”

Your cheeks are damp and it is only then that you realize tears drops have been escaping your eyes. Neteyam thumbs them away with tender care.

“I’ve grown accustomed to sacrificing whatever it takes to become Olo’eyktan. I’ve written my life off as not my own. I’ve given everything I can and could in order to fulfill this role. You are the only thing that I can not sacrifice. And maybe that is selfish of me, but I also know that without you I’m simply a shell of the man I am with you.”

“I could never be Olo’eyktan without you by my side.”

“But how am I supposed to be beside you when I can’t even step a foot into the sun without falling apart at the seams?”

“You truly think that I haven’t thought about that, yawne?” Neteyam’s lips quirk into an amused smile. “I guess now would be a good time to tell you that Lo’ak and I have been building a black out healers tent.” You gape at him. “I wanted it to be a surprise. I suppose I should’ve known better than to think I could pull one over on you.”

It’s foolish, you tell yourself. Another darkened tent doesn’t solve all of the problems. It doesn’t erase the strain this relationship would have on Neteyam or allow you to operate during the daytime hours, unless you are content to remain in the tent for all of your days. And yet, there is a sliver of hope growing in your bosom.

“Nete, I don’t know what to say.” His braids swing over the intense eyes that focus on your every move. He’s tense, ready to jump in at the notice of resistance. “But, I can’t live my life in a dark tent.”

“Of course not. I’m talking about a compromise. Lo’ak, he takes over in the mornings while you and I start the day in the midafternoons. Tsahik duties in the tent for a few hours and then the rest of the night spent together. Leading together. Hunting together.” The dopey grin that spreads upon his lips is fiercely adamant in capturing your heart once more. It takes everything in you to not reach out and pinch the mighty warrior’s cheek. A notion Neteyam is known to reprimand with a playful glare.

“You make it sound so simple.” It’s too much to meet his gaze. You prefer the view of the worn down tiles as you take another calming breath from the mask. The pace of your heart is evermore increasing and part of you wonders if this conversation has the ability to make you faint.

A hand beneath your chin gently prods you to look back up again. He whispers your name, soft but clear in the quiet outpost.

“We have a choice.”

The words weigh heavy in the air, drawing your ears to perk forward in anticipation.

“I know that may sound like a lie to you. However, if there is anyone that understands their life being determined from birth, it’s you. You and I have been pushed and kept into our respective boxes, taught to dream of only the realistic paths ahead of us.”

You wish to say it’s untrue, but any other reality has been stripped away from you from your first breath and morphed into only that of fairy tales.

“We get to choose whether or not we believe that. I’ve accepted my destiny, Tanhi, but I can not bring myself to see my journey walking besides anyone that’s not you. I’ve already chosen. You are what I will not sacrifice.” Neteyam’s calloused fingers weave into your hair, hands on the sides of your head.

“It’s your turn, Tanhi. What do you choose?”

“Is that your definition of fumbling words?” Your chuckle is choked with tears. Neteyam’s short laughter joins your own, his lips already starting to spread into that smile you adore so much.

The past few weeks have been a constant building of that fortress around your heart. You’ve tried to convince yourself over and over again that the two of you parting ways is for the best. These mantras have ripped your heart out and left you in a state of empty sadness, but they also have created a sturdy wall, one that is hard to crumble. Naturally, it is Neteyam that ever stands a chance at breaking through. Sweet Neteyam that knows you so thoroughly that he doesn’t require brute force to get through, he finds a hold from the inside, reading you like a book until there is nothing left for you to hide.

This experience has been a draining uphill battle, but one that you have embarked on because you’ve been convinced that the right thing to do is often the hard thing. However, now, the story shifts. You are left wondering if perhaps this whole time, running away is not the hard thing at all. It’s staying that proves to be the most difficult battle to fight. It’s staying that requires your heart to be opened and at the mercy of failure and disappointment. Leaving Neteyam isn’t the noble cause you once thought it to be.

It’s hiding.

“You really have some nerve calling me stubborn.” You try to joke, but tears are already cascading down your cheeks at an alarming rate and you can tell Neteyam is seconds away from scooping you back into his lap.

“Well I admit being stubborn has its reward sometimes.” He quirks an eyebrow at you. “Perhaps it’s paid off for me this time?”

“Perhaps.” You smile coyly at him. It takes bracing a stabilizing hand against the floor to stop yourself from falling over when you lean forward but it’s worth the exhilarating feeling of his lips against yours once more.

Neteyam is cautious and gentle, moving his lips softly in sync with yours, but you can feel the restraint it takes for him not to swallow you whole. However, you are still healing so Neteyam treats you the way you expect any alpha to: like a delicate flower. Your own tears wet the canvas of both of your cheeks and it takes a moment to realize that small droplets are falling from Neteyam’s eyes too.

The kiss is warm and tender. Relief washes through your body in a wave that makes you realize how much pain you truly were in. How even the very bones in your body finally lose their ache when Neteyam slips an arm around your back to bring you closer.

You’re forced to break the kiss earlier than desired as Neteyam can feel the way your body lags to get air into its lungs. The soft pants that leave your lips are soon encased by the mask that the alpha slips over your mouth once more. The warmth of his gaze beaming down on you spreads across your chest and lights another fire along your skin.

“Come home, Neteyam.” You whisper softly. His forehead leans against your own, those golden orbs still shimmering with unshed tears.

“Always, Tanhi.”

The hours float by in a happily dazed dream afterwards. Neteyam’s touch starved state comes fully into the light as he is constantly keeping a point of contact between you two. It’s obvious that his alpha hindbrain has gone off the wall after being apart for so long and furthermore trying to care for you without going too far. Now that the green light has been given, Neteyam is constantly wrapping his body around your own smaller form till you are almost completely encapsulated by him.

Truthfully, you have no objections. In fact, even your own instincts push you towards readily accepting and initiating any forms of affectionate touch. It further helps that Neteyam’s skin is cool to the touch in comparison to your own raging feverish skin.

Within half a day your wellbeing has greatly increased after the constant nurturing of your overprotective alpha, who seems to be constantly slipping water, food, medicine, or mask given air past your lips. Mo’at is greatly pleased when your temperature begins to return back to its former state and there is a greater strength present in your body. Still, she instructs you to lay low for another day as a precaution.

Neteyam is more than happy to keep you to himself for another day. Watching you come close to the brink of death has his primal urges dialed to eleven. You have to scold him every now and then when his younger brother comes to visit and Neteyam thanks him with an aggressive hiss and tucking you safely into his arms and away from the ‘threat’.

It’s borderline shocking to see his strong reactions considering the severed bond between the two of you. That is, until you find the truth.

“I admit, it might’ve been selfish Tanhi but I couldn’t bring myself to cut our tie before knowing that I had tried everything possible to get you back.”

He had looked up at you with a guilty composure but after everything the two of you had been through you couldn’t hide your relief and joy in finding out that this bond had still survived the heartache. It also provides a greater explanation to your own body's willingness to melt into him with or without a resolution. Now, though, you are content to let him have his fun babying you for one day more and revill in the renewed connection the two of you share.

This time when you awake in the newly hung hammock inside of the outpost (Neteyam had used every angle possible to convince the human scientists to let him temporarily take up the space) you’re surprised to find your mate’s skin hot against your own. His thumping heartbeat rickets in your eardrums but instead of rocking you to sleep, the sound sends shivers down your spine.

Neteyam is blissfully unaware of your consciousness as your own heart starts to speed up. Shifting your leg, it’s a surprise to feel a sticky texture lining the inside of your loincloth. Blood rushes to your cheeks when you realize the source of this substance. Bashfully you’re relieved to see Neteyam is still asleep, allowing your arousal to remain a private humiliation.

With the cautiousness of a sneaking Palulukan, you attempt rolling off of the hammock and out of his arms to take care of your little problem. It’s only halfway rolling over to your side when the Omatikaya prince shifts and spoons you from behind. All plans are immediately thwarted when his muscular thigh slips between your splayed legs innocently. However, the pressure it incidentally puts against your clit brings forth feelings that are anything but innocent.

A veiny forearm easily clamps around your waist to pull you back against his chest. The act rubs his thighs against your clothed folds so suddenly, that it brings a whimpered moan from your lips. Breath hitched in your throat, you wait to see if Neteyam stirs. He shows no sign of waking so you try to scoot your heated core away from his thigh slyly.

Not only are these efforts unrewarded but also bring a tinge of sadness coursing through you. It’s a strange wave of emotion that follows. Arousal quickly windles into full blown desperation within a few heartbeats. The sensations are overpowering, racing through every surface of your body until all that your mind can focus on is the need to be filled by a mate.

Filled by Neteyam.

“Oh Great Mother.” You curse quietly.

Your first heat.

A momentous milestone that your parents have talked to you in great lengths about yet still brings nothing to light on the reality of the experience. You’ve had smaller mini episodes of heat, normal in the beginning of adulthood for Na’vi betas, but it’s only a laughable comparison to the clawing desire taking over your body currently. As a beta you figured that your own heats would be miniscule compared to the laborious heats that plague omegas earlier in their years.

Involuntarily rocking your clothed core against Neteyam’s thigh you now wonder how these Na’vi have ever survived such a demanding lust and lived to tell the tale. And that is what it feels like. Death if not satisfied. Pain if not satiated.

Embarrassment is thrown out the window in favor of creating a pleasurable friction against your clit. Hardly ever having experienced touching yourself on the rare occasion, you have no idea what to do. The corded muscle of his relaxed thigh feels better than your usual small fingerings drumming against the bundle of nerves, so you continue to rock back in a desperate rhythm.

The hammock starts to sway softly with your jutting hips. Some movements are rewarded with a spark of pleasure, only to then be absent on the next rock of your hips. Frustration is quick to brew as you can’t seem to find the right angle and pressure against your core. Shiny slick drenches through the thin fabric and onto the alpha’s thigh. It acts as a lubricant for your journey across his skin, allowing a faster pace to be adopted.

Your pussy clenches around open air, beckoning for a worthy mate to finally fill and claim you properly. It’s an emptiness that you can only compare to the tingling you have experienced after especially long makeout sessions with Neteyam, but it’s worse. So much worse that it brings tears to your eyes. The only relief is found when a lucky thrust finally has the fabric pushed away from your core and lets your small clit peek out and press against his azure skin.

Now without any barriers, pure ecstasy wracks through your body. It only amplifies when the muscles flex slightly beneath you, giving just the right amount of pressure against your clit. A knot forms and tightens in your stomach, quickly winding until it feels as if it’s about to snap. It feels almost dirty to realize that your slick has now coated the entirety of Neteyam’s thigh all while he is sleeping and yet it lures you further into a state of arousal than you have ever been before.

Your own thighs clench harshly around Neteyam’s to trap it against your core. A release clear on the horizon, every effort is put into maintaining that delicious sensation of your clit being assaulted against the muscle. Legs shaking and small squeaks erupting from your throat you chase that feeling relentlessly.

“Cum, Tanhi.”

Neteyam’s raspy voice pushes you over the edge with a shocked gasp. His rumbling growl of satisfaction seems to pulse through you in sync with the overwhelming sensations of an orgasm.

“Good girl.” He praises as your body trembles in the afterglow of release. Neteyam chuckles when a simple flex of his thighs has a whimper spilling your lips. Swirling patterns are drawn by the alpha’s fingers along your sides and arms.

Mental clarity returns in a flash, allowing the reality of the situation to sink in. You hide your heated face against his arm underneath your head while groaning in humiliation.

“Nete.” You whine.

“Hush, baby girl. It’s alright, no reason to get all shy on me now.” He coos while swiping your hair away from your cheek to finally have an unobscured view of your blushing face. “Especially not when you make such pretty noises.”

The words crumble any wall of resistance against the impending heat. Your body yearns for another release, still screaming at you for not being filled with your alpha’s cock yet. A cock that you can feel hardening beneath Neteyam’s loincloth and poking at your lower back.

“Neteyam, it really hurts.”

“I know, Tahini, I know.” He soothes, softly kissing your temple while brushing the strands of hair away. “My poor little star. A bit stronger than you expected, hm?”

When his thigh finally shifts away from your leaking pussy, despite the strength of your clamped legs, a noise of disappointment escapes you.

“So much worse. Neteyam please!” It’s hard to say what you are begging for specifically, but the alpha is quick to calm your worries with sweet nothings. Your limbs kick out and try to wind around any of his, subconsciously finding ways to trap his body closer to yours.

“If you want help, all you have to do is say, yawne. I know how to take care of my girl.” He turns you by the chin to make direct eye contact with him, a silent second measure to make sure this is truly what you desire. Hesitating is far from your mind as you nod and whine out little pleas.

Satisfied with your consent Neteyam grins and begins to descend down your body. Confusion swirls in your eyes when he situates your legs over his shoulders. The sex talk from your parents may not have been that descriptive but you know enough to realize that his cock is nowhere near your drenched entrance.

“How does that…” You trail off, head tilted to the side.

“Just need to get your ready first, Tanhi. Want my baby girl to feel good.” Pointed teeth poke out beneath his lips in his open mouth grin. The pads of his fingers tenderly brush and tease along your outer thighs, slowly making their way to your inner. Tingles of anticipation and pleasure trickle up your body. It boggles you how such a light tracing heightens your lust to new levels.

“How?”

His face softens and Neteyam coos at you while tucking a strand behind your ear.

“Just trust me, little star. I promise you’ll like it.”

So you do, even when his face lowers to your partly clothed mound. Neteyam’s nose presses against your pussy and he sucks in air like a man on the brink of drowning. Your cheeks set aflame at having his face so close to your special place, something you had never considered before. The rumble of power in his hungry growl, however, washes away any insecurity that would plague your mind.

“Smell so delicious, Tanhi.” He purrs.

Neteyam’s creates a path of wet kisses along your inner thighs. Careful grips on your knees allow him to maneuver your legs into whatever profane position he desires, easy access for his eager tongue and lips. His saliva and your slick become intermixed along the expanse of skin as he takes his time warming you up. Each time his lips come closer to your folds, you whimper needily. Heated lust entraps every thought you have, wondering how long it will be until the two of you finally become one.

The first nips at your left inner thigh causes you to jump. His eyes look back up at you as the pointed tips of those canines teasingly scrape against your soft skin.

“Just a little taste, yawne?” He asks, although the smirk along his lips suggests that it is less of a question and rather a warning.

“A bite? T-there?”

Neteyam chuckles at your clueless behavior. It’s been known among Na’vi to leave obvious hickeys and bites along one’s mate’s skin, but you’ve always assumed that to only be in places more visible and less…private. Your tail swishes anxiously as you think of those marks being so close to your heated entrance.

“Yes, baby girl. A little mark to remember me by, hm?”

A simple nod of your head is all the permission required for Neteyam to continue. He takes one last breath from the hanging mask before picking a spot on your inner thigh where the flesh is supple and tender, licking and kissing and the area in preparation. When his lips close around the plush skin and begin to suck, it sends tendrils of electricity straight to your core. Without even thinking you moan and grab at his hair. You’re stuck between the urge to push his head away and encourage him to suck harder.

Once released, the skin is left with a pronounced purple mark. One lick is deposited on the spot before his teeth nip and tug at the skin. You squeal and arch your back dramatically, Neteyam moans darkly he has let it fall from between his teeth and begin to soothe the skin with kisses and licks. The entire act scratches a part of your brain that is primal, satisfied by the apparent claim he leaves for all to see.

“Much better.” His tone drips with pride. “Thank you, Tanhi.” He kisses your knee in gratitude, as if you have given him some sacred gift, and perhaps for him that is true.

It’s only now that it occurs to you how many times Neteyam has held back from staking his claim on you the way most alphas do. You vaguely remember the indented mark of his own teeth against his bottom lip that would draw blood, especially after you have shared an intimate moment or he saw another male eyeing you for too long. What you had originally shrugged off as a habit now transforms in your mind as an act of self control.

Neteyam is quick but deliberate with his handy work of undoing the ties around your tail and hips. He slides the fabric away from your pelvis with an attitude of reverence. Cool air against your slick folds feels like a tickling touch that has your lust spiking dramatically. Burning eyes on your most sensitive area is like gasoline to the flames.

You attempt to clench your thighs together to protect your dignity, but Neteyam hoists them apart and back on his shoulders sternly.

“None of that, baby girl. Let me see how pretty you are.”

And there’s something in that phrase and his undivided attention that makes your toes curl. It becomes blatantly obvious that if he doesn’t hurry up and get on with sticking his cock inside your pussy, you will fall apart at the seams before there is even a chance.

“Neteyam, I’m ready. Please please I’m so ready.” You ramble, willing your legs apart to prepare easier access. Once he is inside everything will be better, although the thought of your virgin walls stretching around him causes a slight tinge of panic to break loose.

“Mawey, my love. It’s about to get good.”

However, frustration and confusion bubble to the surface again when you see his face lowering back down.

“No no, Nete. Enough kisses.” You whine. “I need you inside.”

His brows push up at that, the corners of his lips perking slightly as if hesitant to fully grin.

“Are you sure, my love? We can still wait if you wa-”

“NO! No more waiting! I’m ready now. I need you right now.”

He calls your name softly, but with a hint of unyielding sternness that lets you know it is important you listen. Even a beta can sense when the time to obey is present.

“You’re heat is a very powerful thing but also fleeting, Tanhi. I don’t want you to make such a big decision purely because of your primal instincts.” It’s a respectful and considerate gesture but your head is shaking before he is even close to finishing. If this man does not take you now, you’re ready to flip him over and sit on his member, inexperience be damned.

“It’s not. I’ve been ready for weeks. W-was just waiting to tell you. Take me now, stick it in now.” The ringing in your ears, you realize is actually the accelerated blood thumping along the eardrums from your racing heart. It feels as if the speed will be enough to burst your ribcage open. “I’m ready.”

Neteyam watches as your eyes clench shut and hands scrape against the woven material of the hammock. You’re braced and ready for the pain that will ensue upon penetration.

“Tahni,” Your eyes slowly peek open to see that the alpha hasn’t moved a muscle. “You love me, don’t you?”

The question throws you off guard, but the answer comes easily.

“Of course.”

“And you know that I love you?”

“Yes Neteyam.” Your hips scoot against the fabric, pussy fluttering as it continues to wait for the incoming sensation.

“And you trust me?”

“Always, Nete.”

The alpha hums happily at your response, muttering out a deep ‘good girl’.

“Then I need you to trust that I know what I’m doing, baby girl. Trust that your alpha will take care of you.” He tenderly brushes his fingers over your soft stomach. “And trust me enough to say if or when something doesn’t feel good.”

You nod hazily, keenly aware of the tickling sensation of his touch along your hips.

“That’s my good girl. Now let me get you ready.”

It’s still confusing when you see his head lower towards your navel once more, but you don’t protest this time. He’s right, you do trust him and he does have far more experience with sex than you by far. Your upturned legs are spread even wider by his broad shoulders as he leans closer and lets the tips of his tongue drag over you from belly button to navel. The saliva line goes down further and further until…oh.

It takes his grip on your hips to keep them pressed against the hammock when his tongue brushes over your clit for the first time. It’s a pleasure that is completely foreign to you. Comparable to the spark of dopamine that comes from your small finger teasing the area and yet completely different in intensity. He draws sensual figure eights along the bundle of nerves several times before swooping down to collect more of your arousal between your folds.

Neteyam is calculated with his exploring, performing in the way of someone who has crafted their art. When his tongue just barely swipes across your entrance your hands fly down to grasp his braids again. This time, however, the only thought on your mind is keeping him down there. His flat nose nudges at your clit with every swipe of his tongue along your pussy.

“Oh my Eywa!” You screech as that knot is quickly being tied again in your stomach.

Neteyam on the other hand becomes focused on another knot, tugging at the twine holding your top in place while still working on your pussy with zealous excitement. With your aid, the dangling top is released and falls to the side. His assault on your pussy pauses for him to trail upwards and lick along your quickly hardening peaks.

“So pretty, Tanhi.” He murmurs against your right nipple before taking it into his mouth and sucking. Meanwhile his fingers have taken the place of his tongue and expertly rub your clit. “My pretty little star.”

Gleeful pride twinkles in his eyes as he looks up at you, a string of saliva connecting his lips to your chest. Your small hands grapple at any part of him you can reach, finding purchase on his flexed bicep that holds himself over you.

The connecting lines of your thoughts are tangled into a ball of messy hunger and desperation. Never in your wildest dreams would you have imagined such strange things to be so exhilarating. A part of you wonders what else was not included in that sex talk.

His head is found back between your legs again once your nipples are red and pointed proudly. Neteyam licks, nips and sucks at your pussy like a starved man. Every moan of pleasure releases vibrations that sky rockets through you. It becomes too much to handle. You’ve never felt more fragile in your entire life than when his eyes connect with yours, one eye winking at you, and you fall apart.

Neteyam’s moan while licking up the white substance pouring from you goes completely unnoticed as the world around you spins and your ears ring. The gravity of this orgasm shakes you to the bones, floodgates of pleasure completely open in your brain.

Although it feels as if Pandora has slipped out from beneath you, the recovery from this release is swift. Your skin prickles with goosebumps and your pussy hungrily clenches around open air once more. It seems that the monster of a heat inside you grows more insatiable with every second. So when Neteyam covers one finger in the remnants of your juices and starts to prod at your entrance, you’re relieved.

“You’re doing so good, baby girl. This may feel strange at first, but let me know if it hurts too much.” It’s hard to focus on anything else besides the shiny slick that still coats his chin as he looks at you, but you manage a nod.

It does feel strange at first, your walls incredibly tight. Getting down to the first knuckle is easy but going towards the second proves to feel a little more strained. Regardless, you are happy to find that getting one finger inside is nothing near as painful as expected. Neteyam wiggles the digit and it makes you twitch. Such a strange sensation to be filled but, the longer he twists and curls his finger, the more you find yourself enjoying it.

“How does that feel, yawne?”

“F-fine…a little strange.”

Neteyam chuckles.

“I know. My girl’s pretty pussy is so tight.” It’s the pride and adoration in his voice that melts you from the inside out. The muscles of your cunt relax against him as he starts to slide another finger in.

This stretch takes a little more time, effort, and praise from your alpha but otherwise it’s smooth sailing. He scissors and stretches your walls with due diligence, even as the dark pupils of his eyes overtake the gold color. By the third finger, you’re clawing at his braced forearm and begging for his cock. Neteyam doesn’t immediately give in, reminding you of the importance of being stretched out for him. Frustrated by his noble intentions, you aren’t beyond playing dirty.

“Alpha please! Need your cock so bad, it hurts. Feel so empty.” The begging turns into sweet tones of whimpers. You can see the shift of his muscles as they tense. His pheromones take on a stronger hue, one that surrounds you like a cloud. Your small hand reaches down for him, fingers grasping in open air. Neteyam is quick to use the hand not half way up your pussy to hold your own, looking up at you. “You said you’d take care of me, alpha.”

Perhaps in a situation not distorted by desperate lust and the sweet scent of your erotic perfume Neteyam would be tempted to put you over his knees for trying to manipulate him, but the clenching of your velvet walls around his fingers is enough to keep him focused on being balls deep inside of you instead. You can see the moment that his resolve crumbles to ashes, it’s accentuated by a deep growl and narrowed eyes.

You watch with hungry eyes as Neteyam hastily claws at the strings of his loincloth. It’s a wonder that it doesn’t rip underneath his harsh fingers but it finally falls away and your pupils dilate at the sight. His length stands heavily against his stomach, curving slightly under its own weight. Saliva gathers in your mouth as you observe the freckled stars that glow under the dim light of the room and scatter over his shaft till reaching the tip. A bead of precum is settled there and for the first time, you understand the desire to put your mouth in such sinful places.

Neteyam preens under your awed attention, his hindbrain purring in delight at seeing his little mate impressed with what he has to offer. His grin widens when he notices your hand hesitantly reaching towards it. You stop, however, before getting to touch.

“It’s ok, Tanhi. You can touch.” The three fingers leave your entrance with a squelching sound. Neteyam confidently keeps eye contact while licking the digits clean with a soft purr, then that large hand is wrapping around your own and leading you towards his twitching member.

Even with Neteyam’s guidance, you’re unable to wrap the entirety of his width in your grip, but he doesn’t appear to be bothered by it. In fact, a devious spark lights in his smile as he watches you struggle to hold it. Although, you will probably never admit it outside of heat, you too enjoy the dramatic size difference between the two of you. On more than one occasion you have let your arousal ruin your loincloth just from having his large body completely wrapped around your own, tucking you away so easily.

A small gasp leaves your throat when his cock twitches in your hand. Neteyam can’t keep his cooing laughter in as he pets affectionately at your hair. He pauses to take a breath from the mask while still smirking.

“You see what you do to me, baby girl?”

The taste of iron erupts in your mouth and it is only then that you realize you’ve been crushing your bottom lips between sharp teeth.

“Is it…uncomfortable?” It feels silly to be so bashful after having his lips along your pussy moments earlier, but you can’t help but keep your voice down to a whisper. You thank the Great Mother for the privacy that the scientists have allowed the two of you over the past few days. There would be no recovery for your dignity if they were to walk in on this scene. Heat or not, being whiny and oblivious is embarrassing.

“Hm, sometimes my love. If relief is not given.” He guides your thumb to run over the head. “Mostly it gets my thoughts traveling to tempting places. Imagining all the different ways I can have you laid out for me.” The weight of your eyelids seem to increase with every word he speaks. His other hand running up and down your inner thigh only adds to the lust filled daze that has captured you.

“Wondering what you would taste like.” Being the cheeky alpha that he is, Neteyam doesn’t let the opportunity pass by without reaching a few digits down to his soaked thigh and swirling the substance between his fingers. He simultaneously continues to help you jerk his thick member slowly while sticking the dripping fingers into his mouth profanely.

“My imagination, however, doesn’t do it justice.” He hums with delight, his pink tongue swiping over his bottom lip to collect any escaping juices. “My thoughts are merely a facade in comparison to the real thing. They can’t do you justice.”

You subconsciously tighten your grip around him at the words, causing a low groan to rumble from his chest. Another trickle of slick coats your entrance. You’re in absolute awe at your body's ability to get close to cumming just from the dark noises and words that spill from your mate’s lips. Not to mention the twitching weight of his cock restrained in your hand.

“Then stop imagining and come here.” You leap forward and capture his lips with your own. Neteyam’s hum of surprise morphs into a viscous growl as your tongues fight for dominance. The little gasps and groans that slip into the kiss as you pump his cock is electrifying. It’s borderline addicting to see that way the mighty Omatikaya Prince bucks his hips for you. A sense of power to know that you can get him melting like this.

Never breaking the kiss, Neteyam shuffles your body forward and the two of you start to guide his cock towards your fluttering pussy. All forms of trepidation are gone. Your body screams from every pore that you can take it. You trust these instincts as the thick head of his member prods at your entrance.

Your lips part against his mouth in a gasp when the head slips past your entrance. Slick walls stretch in ways that you couldn’t have imagined and it feels as if you are about to be split in half. Neteyam continues to kiss and nip at your lips gleefully while carefully continuing to guide himself in inch by inch.

“You’re being such a good girl for me.” He coos as your eyes scrunch shut tightly. It feels as if the length will never stop, as if he is about to reach your chest from the inside, but Neteyam is patient. He takes his sweet time checking up on you with every inch and soaking his tone and words with constant praises. It does this trick, scratching at that primal desire to please your alpha.

When his balls finally meet the curve of your ass, little whimpers rain from you consistently.

“N-nete, so b-big.” You cry, forehead touching his own as you struggle to take in ragged breaths. He forces you to take a breath from the mask hanging from his neck.

“I know, baby. So perfect and tight around me.” His own voice shakes slightly. “God damn!” The english phrase sounds like gibberish to your ears but you understand the sentiment nonetheless.

Settled there to let you adjust, your head lolls to his shoulder. When his cock twitches, you clamp your teeth down on his exposed shoulder to stabilize yourself. Neteyam encourages the oral fixation through hissed words of praise. Tears spill from your eyes but it’s hard to say what the source of your crying is. The stretch is uncomfortable but you can’t deny the certain tinge of pleasure that courses through you when a slight shift reminds you of how full your pussy is. Eventually, your heat takes the edge off, rewarding your ability to secure a mate with a pulsing clit and dripping entrance.

It takes a moment to realize that Neteyam is calling your name, you eventually snap out of it when his lips murmur it straight into your flicking ears.

“Hand me your kuru, baby.” Your hands obey on their own accord. “Want you to understand how good you feel, Tanhi. How happy you make me.”

When those dancing tendrils wrap securely around one another, your eyes go from sleepy slits to dilated pupils of awe. It never becomes old being able to feel Neteyam so closely. To feel his breath and strength. To have his own emotions coalesce with yours. A vulnerable certainty of how he is feeling. In this state, neither of you can hide. There is no deceit. There are no polite formalities. You both have direct access to the other’s soul.

This time, a new current of sensation travels through the bond. It sparks into growing forms of ecstasy that makes you groan. It’s a strange thing to accept, but you can feel your own tights walls secured around him. Hugging him so tightly in the warmth of your cunt, velvety texture caressing him with every shift. Underneath that pleasure also grows an unyielding lust that pricks at his self control with every passing second. His hindbrain is screaming at him to move. To claim. To fill your womb with his seed until it drips out from you.

It’s better than if the words had come from his own lips. It sets you into a feral need to complete these fantasies.

“Can you feel me, baby girl?” His arms are securely wrapped around your middle to keep you tight against him.

“Yes Nete, feel all of you. Need all of you. W-want you to move.” The ability to form coherent sentences starts to slip between your fingers. Neteyam, however, requires no further instruction. Your back hits the hammock once more as his strong grip clasps around the soft flesh of your hips. The mask is settled over your lips by the alpha before he continues.

Slowly, but surely, he draws out with smooth and continuous thrusts. Your cunt clenches around him almost painfully, as if to keep him locked there. Once the tip is just barely past your entrance he starts to slide back in smoothly. The prolonged thrusts eventually angle in a way that hits a bundle of nerves inside you that has never been explored by you before. Neteyam moans in sync with you as he can feel your own pleasure every time the head of his cock rubs at the rosy spot.

It spurs him forward. You don’t have to explicitly tell him to go faster because he can feel it straight through the bond. It allows you to focus the energy you have left on gripping his shoulders for dear life. A brutal rhythm begins to take place, your legs wrapped around his waist.

“Oh Eywa!” You screech. The obscene noises of skin slapping fills the room along with Neteyam’s loosed growls and grunts.

“That’s not my name, Tanhi.” The alpha teases, but you can feel the aching desire he has to hear his own name upon your lips. To have the auditory satisfaction of knowing he is pleasing his little mate.

“N-neteyam oh haa Nete!”

His precision at hitting your g spot increases. Neteyam learns your body with an impressive speed. One hand comes up to palm and tease your breasts in his large hand. His eyes switching back and forth between watching his cock disappear inside of you and marveling at the nipple hardening between his pinched fingers.

Everything starts to become a blur for you. The origins of sounds are unknown. Several times you are surprised to find that the high pitched screams are coming from your own throat. Your body shakes and trembles as if it is about to shatter into a million pieces. And that is what you come to truly believe as it overwhelms your senses. It is so consuming and new that you start to sputter little pleas of mercy to your mate, convinced that you truly will die from this overload of sensations.

“It’s alright, Tanhi. You’re alright. Just let go for me. Let it all go.”

Your hair tangles in the woven material of the hammock as you shake your head. Neteyam thrusts become ragged and less coordinated but he slips a hand down to fondle at your clit. You scream and arch, cumming harder than ever before. Neteyam is less than a second behind you, feeling the effects of your orgasm through the bond. Warm ropes of seeds paint your inner walls.

The first normal sense that comes to you is the feeling of Neteyam’s heavy and warm body collapsed on top of yours. Heated breath tickles at your neck, intermittent with sweet kisses and nonsense murmurs. You let yourself bask in the afterglow. Your body is sore and motionless, but luckily Neteyam takes over. Only a tiny sound comes from you when he slips out.

“Come here, tanhi.” Your boneless body is pulled to lay on top of him. Soothing affection swims across the bond when you nuzzle your face against his chest. The swing of the hammock and rhythm of his heartbeat is quickly luring you to sleep.

Neteyam grabs your hand and kisses it sweetly. You can vaguely make out the sound of his voice, but the words are like garbled noises which never compute in your brain. It’s hard to say whether or not it’s english or if you just can’t understand simple words now in your fucked out state. Still, you like the way it makes his chest rumble.

“Neteyam.” The rumble stops, tail flickering as he waits patiently.

“I see you.” Your words are barely more than a whisper in the stuffy room but they ring true. He gently places the breathing mask over your lips again before your eyes close.

“You’re all I see, little star.”

Taglist @yurmomsawh0r @nilahsstuff @name-saken @luvv4j4ybe11 @stylishtoast @karateperson @henhouse-horrors @easy2004 @whisperingwillow0854 @whenercolorfulrainbowlol @neteyamtesuli

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ghoul-bonez · 11 months

Text

~To You He Feels Like Home~

(Neteyam x Fem! Na’vi! Reader)

Summary: You were always a wild child, literally and figuratively. You were raised by the forest and by the creatures that lived within it, and you would never want it any other way, but when you were discovered by another Na’vi you are overcome with curiosity although the animals that raised you always warned you about the outsiders.

Word Count: 5.1k

Author’s Note: This is my longest oneshot to date, at 5.1k words & 11 google docs pages, and I’ve been working on it for weeks now… Hopefully you guys will like it :D This fic was inspired by @imeanwhynotbruv ‘s Mowlie! Spider AU which I LOVE!!! Very excited for y’all to read :)

~Last - Next~

~Series Masterlist~

~Main Masterlist~

To You He Feels Like Home

You were always wild, even as a young child. Part of that could be attributed to who was raising you, how you were being raised, and part of it was because of your personality. It came down to nurture versus nature, or nurture and nature.

You were wild by nurture, raised by the Great Mother, by her forest, and by the animals that inhabited it. In particular there was a mother palulukan who had taken you into her den with her two cubs. She was your protector, your teacher, your mother. She loved you, and that was all you needed.

You were wild by nature, always bouncing around, never able to sit still. You were fierce and strong, stubborn at times, and intelligent as could be, which you used to your advantage. It was good for your survival, but exhausting to your mother palulukan, and the other animals who had taken you under their wings to teach you different survival skills.

They had all had a part in your upbringing, every animal teaching you something different. Their lessons had turned you into the woman you were today, they had taught you how to survive, and not just that, but how to thrive.

The palulukan had taught you to fight, how to attack and pounce, and win. She had taught you to protect yourself in any situation. She had taught you that no matter how small you were, how weak you may seem to your opponent, that there would always be a way to come out on top.

The syaksyuk had taught you how to swing from tree to tree, how to escape from harm's way quickly, may you choose not to fight. They taught you about community and how to work together to get to your goal.

The yerik had taught you how to scare off predators, and if that didn’t work how to run, how to pace yourself and run for longer than you thought you could. They taught you to stay calm, to not let fear overtake you as you ran.

The nantang made sure you knew how to hunt, how to stalk then attack and finish off your prey. They made sure you could feed yourself. They made you work in a team, to take everyone's different skills into account.

The ikrans that visited from the mountains taught you how to navigate the air, although you could only do so with their help. They would show you how different different parts of the land were. They showed you what you and your family of creatures looked from above.

Your upbringing was untraditional and many Na’vi would question how you had even survived, but you knew how. There was a sense of community in your animal family that could never be rivaled. You wouldn't have it any other way.

Of course there were still things you had to teach yourself, like weaving and making clothes. This had taken some trial and error as you had started as a very young child, needing to form this skill for more protection against the elements and the forest. You had figured it out later than you would have liked, but eventually you got there and had created your own outfits.

Then you had to teach yourself how to make weapons, and how to use them. You had mastered making spears out of branches when you were young, and quickly moved on to finding hard enough materials to make knives and other blades. When your mother palulukan had noticed your proficiency of making weapons she had started bringing back lost Na’vi weapons like bows and hunting knives.

After lots of trials and errors, from carving the body wrong to tying the sting wrong, you had mastered making a bow. You had found the perfect type of wood, strong enough to hold up, but soft enough to carve. You had found the perfect string made from woven plant fibers. When you carved your final masterpiece the curve of the wood was perfect and the string strung tightly enough to work perfectly.

Then came using it. You had never seen anyone use one, and your mother palulukan refused to let you anywhere near other Na’vi, so you struggled. You had tried over, and over, and over again, and eventually it paid off. Your stance was wrong to most, strange looking to others, but it worked perfectly for you.

With all of your combined skills, ones the animals of Pandora had taught you and ones you had taught yourself, you had become a lethal hunter. Once you proved yourself capable your mother palulukan let you off on your own.

At the age of eighteen years you had been sent free, allowed to explore as you wanted, and so you did. You ran through the forest with excitement coursing through your veins. You climbed and swung from tree to tree without a care for your safety. You swam in streams and shook the water from your loose hair as you resurfaced. You hunted for your own food, coming up successful every time.

You felt free.

You had been so used to your mother palulukan hunting for you that doing it on your own was enthralling. It gave you a rush unlike any other, but you never took more than you and your family could eat, dragging it back home to your palulukan family’s den.

Your little family had never eaten like this before. They had never had a meal every day, sometimes going as many as five days without food, instead giving leftovers to you, the little Na’vi they had taken in who needed it more than they did. Now you made sure they were fed daily, you took care of them like they had you.

As much as you loved the takedown of your prey, your favorite part of hunting was the stalking. You loved tracking things, finding a scent trail and following it until you found prints in the ground. You loved watching the prey once you found it, staying hidden in the shadows and observing.

Sometimes you would even track when you weren’t hunting, practicing for later or simply wanting to observe the other animals of the forest. You especially loved watching the nantang packs as they were similar to your family but also so different.

Today had been no different, you had been out searching for the trail of a nantang pack wanting to watch and observe. However that plan changed when you caught a whiff of something you had never smelled before. It reminded you of something, yourself, but you didn’t know why.

You couldn’t help but do what you do best, stalk. You followed the scent, staying close to the ground, slinking around, and watching the dirt for prints from any type of animal. When the trail stopped and there were no prints in sight you were confused, where had it gone, you questioned.

Then it hit you, the trees, it had to be in the trees. You weren’t in the mood to climb right now, not wanting a chase in the trees, but you might not have a choice. You took a breath, steadying and readying yourself, slowly looking up to the trees to see what you would be chasing, and once you caught sight of what it was you gasped.

It was you, not quite, but something like you.

He had your blue skin, stripes laid across his skin and white freckles splattered across his body and face. He had your dark hair, but his was put up in braids, something you had no idea you could do. He had your large golden eyes which were widened just like yours right now.

You were perplexed. You knew you weren’t the same as your family, you knew you looked completely different, not the same species, but you hadn’t ever seen another person like you. You didn’t know there were other people like you.

The other person looked just as shocked as you, and he was. You looked Omaticaya, but he had never seen you before, and he had seen everyone in his clan as the next Olo’eyktan in training. He hoped you weren’t Omaticaya because of how rough of shape you were in. He never wanted anyone in his clan to be in this rough of shape.

You had scapes all over your body, little scars scattered where past cuts had been. Your hair was loose and messy, knotted and in need of a good brush and braid. As he studied the strange girl in front of him he was concerned for you, for the state you were in, but to you the unkempt hair and scars and nicks that cover your body are normal.

To you they feel like home.

To you the scrapes and scars, the cuts and nicks, feel like home. They feel like the forest as you run through the underbrush, barely dodging trees and roughly catching your arms against them accidentally. They feel like jumping into streams and rivers, scraping your knees on the rocks at the bottom as the current sweeps you off your feet. They feel like hunting as you accidentally catch your finger with your blade as you finish off your prey.

To him they were worrying, they showed pain and danger, but to you that was normal, pain and danger were regular parts of your life. To him it wasn’t, and he felt the need to make sure you were okay. You were standing strongly so clearly you weren’t too injured, but the idea of you being one of his people made him feel the need to check you over, to help you.

He jumped down from his hiding spot, gracefully landing in front of you, and suddenly you took off. You sprinted away, terrified of the stranger. You wanted to make your way back home, back to your mother palulukan and the den you called home. You wanted to be safe, you wanted to feel safe.

The man lagged for a second, thinking, before deciding to follow you, taking off after you. The chase went on for a while, his lungs burned as he kept up with you, close behind, but he didn’t know how much longer he could keep up, and you didn’t seem to be slowing down.

“Wait, I just want to help!” He shouted after you, but that seemed to spook you more and you sped up.

You had no idea what the strange man had said, but his loud voice scared you. The sounds he was making were foreign to you, and it frightened you. He was communicating in a way you never had before. The way you communicated with your family was hisses and growls.

You were a good runner, had good stamina, but he seemed to be keeping up, although you could tell he was getting tired. The unfortunate part was you were getting tired too, and you would have to stop soon. You figured it would be good to stop sooner than later so you had enough energy to fight in case the need arose.

You saw a clearing to the right and zagged that way before stopping on the far end of it, crouched down like a palulukan, ready to pounce. The man stopped on the other side, hands on his knees as he caught his breath. Like this he looked less scary, he looked weak as he was out of breath, like you could win this fight easily.

He looked at you through the braids that had fallen in his face, and his eyes held no malice. He wanted you to feel safe, or as safe as possible, around him, so he showed his weakness as he was out of breath. He wanted you to know he wasn’t going to hurt you as he showed you had easily outran him.

However you still felt threatened.

Your eyes were blown wide, adrenaline coursing through you as your mind ran a mile a minute. Your ears pinned against your head and you let out a wild hiss at the man, bearing your teeth and snapping them together a few times as a threat.

He didn’t challenge you back, instead dropping to the ground to sit with his legs crossed, arms in the air as a sign of surrender, or peace, that he meant no harm. He tried to make himself look harmless, tried to make himself look smaller.

Your face scrunched up in confusion, why wasn’t he challenging you, you asked yourself. You weren’t convinced he meant to harm You couldn’t let your guard down, and your hand flew to your knife at your hip as you snarled at him, trying to elicit a reaction.

He then realized he had his own weapons on him and he lifted his bow over his head from where it rested against him, and threw it to the side. He hesitated as he took his knife out of its holder, but he threw it next to his bow a few feet away.

“They're gone, okay.” He pointed to the weapons where they laid, “I want to help you. I’m not going to hurt you.” He tried to explain.

Again you didn’t understand him, ears twitching at the unfamiliar sounds. Now you were more stressed than before. You stayed in place, ears pinned to your head again as you growled, but your hand moved away from your knife.

“There we go.” He spoke as your hand fell to your side, “What's your name?” He asked.

You felt the adrenaline wearing off, exhaustion starting to catch up to you and making you less hostile than before, blurring the lines of your fear. Your eyes were narrowed as your head tilted to the side, a questioning look on your face. You were scared because you couldn’t understand him, but you became more curious the more he spoke.

His voice was interesting, smooth and calming. You hadn’t heard anything like it before, and although you looked similar you weren’t sure if you could make the same sounds as him, accustomed to growls and hisses.

When you didn’t say anything back the man tried something different. He pointed to himself, “Neteyam.” Then he pointed to you, humming, “Hm?”

You growled back, trying to communicate the only way you knew how. He just cringed, taking it as aggressive while you were simply trying to voice your confusion.

He tried again, “Neteyam…” He pointed to himself, not saying anything else afterwards.

“Neteyam.” You whispered, only loud enough for you to hear. Then you cleared your throat, “Neteyam.” You parroted.

“Yes. Neteyam.” He nodded, happy you seemed to be getting somewhere, “You?” He asked, pointing to you.

“Hm?” You hummed, copying the noise he had made to you earlier. You thought it was a questioning sound, and you hoped your assumption was correct.

Something clicked to Neteyam, “You can’t understand me, can you?” He asked, not particularly expecting an answer.

“Hm?” You questioned again.

“Okay…” He took a second to think. Who were you? Where did you come from?

“Neteyam.” You spoke again, getting his attention. You then pointed to yourself and growled, you seemed to be trying to communicate something, and you were. You had growled your name, what your palulukan family called you.

He didn’t quite understand you, “Hm?” He asked.

You just growled again, pointing to yourself. Clearly this wasn’t getting anywhere.

“I’m going to give you a name, or a nickname I guess.” He told you, but you didn’t understand. If you had known what he had said you would have disagreed adamantly, you don’t need a different name, you have one already, but you didn’t understand, so when he pointed to you and said, “(Y/n).” The name sounded beautiful, and you loved the way it rolled off his tongue.

Your head tilted to the side, confusion written on your face, but you didn’t protest. Instead you nodded your head, seeming content, “Neteyam.” You pointed to him, “(Y/n), hm?” You pointed to yourself questioningly.

He smiled, “Yes.”

“Yes.” You copied him, but you weren’t smiling, still confused by the foreign words.

He patted the ground in front of him, inviting you to sit by him, but you don’t approach, instead sitting where you were a few feet away. He seems so calm, so relaxed, as he sits with his legs crossed and arms behind his as he leans on them. You however are stiff, skittish, as you sit on your knees, hands in your lap. You looked ready to take off at any second.

Neteyam tried to calm you down with reassuring words, even though he knew you couldn’t understand him, his calm tone seemed to take off the edge. You were scared of him, but slowly starting to believe he meant no harm. He wasn’t dangerous.

As you sat there with him he went on, and on, talking about whatever came to mind with that smooth tone. You could sit there and listen to him talk forever, but soon the sky is darkening and you realize it is time to head back home, to the comfort of your den, your mother would be waiting for you when you get there. She would be ready to allow you to cuddle up next to her and let go of the stress of today.

You’re not frantic when you stand up, instead more fixed on having a mission, to get home, but Neteyam doesn’t understand that, and so he stands up after you. You don’t pay him any mind until you start walking away and he follows you. Frustrated that he’s trying to follow you, you hold your hand out towards him, hissing.

“No!” You shout, a word you had picked up from Neteyam talking to you.

“Oh.” Neteyam simply comments. You were a quick learner apparently, picking up on the word and figuring out how to use it already.

You turn away and start walking off, and this time he doesn’t follow you, waving towards you and saying, “Goodbye, (Y/n).” He pauses before saying quieter, “I hope I see you again.” Not loud enough for you to hear.

Your mother palulukan was confused that night when you came home without a meal, but when you broke down in tears she moved to comfort you. You let out all of the stress from over the past few hours in tears and sobs, and eventually you stilled, fell asleep on her large warm body, and finally you rested.

You had intended to never see Neteyam again, but you kept running into him. It was frustrating and confusing. You had no idea why it kept happening, but of course you knew Eywa had a plan for everyone, and everything happens for a reason, but you weren’t sure why she was so insistent on putting you and Neteyam together.

The day after your first encounter you had your second meeting. You had been trying to hunt when you somehow ended up back at the clearing. You weren’t sure how you ended up there, but you gave in, sitting with him for a while before continuing your hunt.

The third time, the third day in a row now, you had been napping in a completely different area of the forest when you woke up to Neteyam looking at you curiously. It wasn’t necessarily in a creepy way, but it had spooked you at first before you calmed down. This time you did not stick around, walking off with a dismissive grunt to Neteyam.

The fourth time, a few days later, he had found you while you had been frolicking around in the Hallelujah Mountains. You had been hiding out there, trying to avoid him by not even being in the forest, but he had found you again somehow.

That went on, and on, until you admitted defeat, accepted your fate, Eywa was determined to have you and Neteyam together, and who were you to deny the Great Mother’s will. She knew all, and you trusted her, so you took her lead.

Every time you ran into Neteyam you would spend a little more time with him, and eventually that time built into hours, and then days, from sunrise to sunset you would spend your hours with him. You cherished your time with Neteyam and he certainly enjoyed your company, your attention.

Your palulukan mother was less than pleased with how much time you were spending with the Na’vi boy, but she understood you needed companionship with your own kind. She figured you would grow curious eventually and would venture out in search of people like you, and she was proud of you for making a friend, but she wished you would be home a little more.

When you finally gave into spending time with Neteyam you figured you should learn how to communicate, learn to speak his language. You would much rather teach him yours, but yours was more general emotions and less words, less actual conversation and more communicating how you're feeling through growls and hisses, hunched shoulders and bared teeth.

Today you were sitting by a river, somewhere Neteyam had shown you, as he tried to teach you the Na’vi language.

Neteyam pointed to different features on his face as you named them quietly, touching them on your own face as you went, “Ears. Eyes. Nose. Mouth.”

“Good job!” He praised you, a smile on both of your faces.

You were learning slowly, struggling to pick up a second language so much different from your first, but when you grasped a certain word you had it for good. You had started using the words you knew in basic sentences like “How you?” when you would first see him. You would listen intently as if you knew everything he was saying although you only picked up on certain words.

What really got Neteyam was when you would say goodbye when you parted ways at the end of the day. Instead of saying “Goodbye.” or something similar you would blurt out “Love you!” as you walked away.

It always got Neteyam’s heart beating in his chest, hard, and he couldn’t help but smile every time. He would say, “Goodbye (Y/n). Love you too.” because the one time he hadn’t reciprocated you had pouted and nearly cried.

He didn’t think you understood the significance of those words, of the word love, but you definitely did. You didn’t use it lightly, it being the only word you had learned to describe how you were feeling for Neteyam, and it described your feelings perfectly.

You truly did love him, as a friend, maybe more.

You appreciated what he did for you, but it went so much deeper than that. You loved how he was patient with you, giving you all the time you needed. You loved his voice, how he would talk to you even if you didn’t understand. You loved how he laughed, how he smiled, how his eyes seemed to glow when he was around you.

You love him.

You loved him like you loved the forest, it’s green foliage keeping you safe throughout your life. You loved him like you loved your mother palulukan, like a warm hug at the end of the day. You loved him like you loved the sounds that played all around you constantly, drowning out your negative thoughts.

You love him like home.

As you were mulling over your feelings, thinking whatever came to your mind, you had been zoning out, gone silent as you looked off into the distance. Neteyam took this chance to mess with you a little. He scooped up some water from the stream in his hands and threw it on you, bringing you out of your thoughts as the cool water hit your face.

You gasped, “Neteyam!”

He just laughed, pointing at you as your jaw was dropped, brow muscles raised, and eyes open wide. Your look of offense amused him and your look quickly switched to a scowl, and Neteyam felt himself still, that was never a good look on you.

You moved quickly, smiling mischievously splashing water onto him too. He looked surprised, like he hadn’t expected this from you, and you used that to your advantage, splashing him again, harder this time, with more water.

This time he was quick to move, trying to grab you and throw you into the deeper part of the river, but your reflexes were faster than him and you got up, running away like a mad woman. You smiled before jumping into the river, submerging your lower body before he could do it for you.

You thought hard, trying to form a coherent sentence, when you thought you had it you shouted, “Come get me!” Taunting him.

As you taunted him he just smiled, a sense of childish joy overcoming him. It reminded him of when he was younger. When he and his siblings would play in streams closer to home. When his father would play with them. It reminded him of family, you were quickly becoming family, but in a deeper way.

He loved you like family, he loved you like a calm afternoon at home with everyone sitting around, talking and playing games. He loved you like a partner, someone to share his own home with, where his family could come over for dinner and share stories. He loved you like someone new to the family, like someone his family could learn to love.

He loves you.

“Oh yeah?” Neteyam asked, smirking at you. He stayed where we was on the river bank, feet barely in the water.

“Yeah!” You shouted, challenging him by splashing the water around you.

He seemed to be contemplating it, over exaggerating his movements dramatically, “I don’t know… I might just stay here…” He joked.

You frowned, not understanding his joking tone of voice, “Fine…” You turned away from him, getting ready to leave the river.

However you didn’t get the chance when you heard splashing behind you, and it was too late. He ran up to you splashing you, getting your entire back wet, including your hair.

You whipped around, gasping both at the cold water and the shock of not expecting it. You shouted at him, arms crossed over your chest, “Rude!”

Neteyam laughs loudly, “Oh I’m rude? You’re the one who told me to come get you.” He defended himself, rolling his eyes.

“You…” You thought of what word to use, not sure what the word for this action was, you settled on, “hit me first!”

Neteyam was quick to correct you, “Splash, the word is splash.” He really did not want you telling people he was hitting you if you ever met his clan. He hoped it was less of an if, and more of a when.

You took in the information, “You splash me first.” You shrugged your shoulders, feeling you won the conversation.

“And I’ll do it again!” Neteyam laughed, running at you, ready to throw more water in your face, but you turned to run away from his attack.

As you were running you slipped, falling to your knees and feeling pain shoot through one of them, “Ow.” You hissed out.

Neteyam was quick to rush to your side, helping you up and walking you to the edge of the river where you sat down. You inspected the cut, it wasn’t much and you would be okay in a day or so, “I am okay.” You tried to assure Neteyam.

Neteyam frowned, “I’m sorry. Let me fix you up?” He asked.

You knew if you said no he would practically beg you to let him help you, so you gave in, “Okay.”

Neteyam sat down, pulling your leg over his lap so he had better access to your knee. He inspected the small wound, thinking about what Kiri had told him would be best for it.

He was quick to pull out the little pouch of healing equipment he had, herbs and plants, pastes and drinks, he was equipped for anything. He had decided to carry anything he would need to treat your small cuts and scrapes because every time you would see him you would have more and more. They never seemed to stop coming, so he promised he would do his best to help you.

He pulled out a paste you recognized, and before he could speak you mocked him, attempting to copy his voice, “This one will sting.” You fell into a fit of giggles afterwards.

He just chuckled at you, “You’re right.” You seemed to always be right, you picked up on other things, besides learning the Na’vi language, easily.

You smiled, sighing happily, “I know.”

Neteyam hums, smiling at you , “Tell me, how have you been? What have you done today?” He tried to distract you while he put the paste on.

It worked as you quickly responded, “It has been great. I have gotten to see you…” You trailed off, smiling shyly, before continuing, “This morning I went on a hunt, took food home to my mom. My siblings are moving out finally, so it is just us now. Less mouths to feed.”

“Good… Neteyam answered simply, focusing on what he was doing as he wrapped a bandage around your knee.

“Thank you.” You pulled his face up to look at you, a small smile was on your face, lips gently curved, eyes softened to liquid gold, “For everything.”

He sighed, content, as his face melted into your hand, pressing your skin to his, “It’s really no big deal. I would do anything for you. I would get you anything you need, anything you want.” He admitted softly, quietly.

You smiled, leaning in and pressing your forehead to his, “I know, and Eywa do I love it. I love you.”

He smiles back, the happiness reaching his eyes, and if you listen close enough you can hear his heart thumping in his chest, ready to pop out, “I love you too, (Y/n). I see you, and I will show you that every day.

Every time he tends to your wounds he is so careful, he is so careful with you. He is careful in a way the forest has never been, in a way it never will be in the future. The forest gives you safety in the form of protection through the hard and marred skin you have covering your body. The forest shows you its love through injuries you’ve sustained from your years of survival, it gives you love by allowing you to survive.

Now you don’t need the love of the forest, you need the love of him. He feels like scars, and bruises, and cuts, and pain. He feels like safety. Like how you once had found safety and solace in the cuts and bruises you bared, how your unkempt hair and scars felt like your home, to you he feels like home.

Word Bank:

Great Mother (Eywa)

Palulukan (Thanator)

Syaksyuk (Prolemuris)

Yerik (Hexaped)

Nantang (Viperwolf)

Ikran (Mountain Banshee)

Omaticaya (Forest Na’vi)

Olo’eyktan (Clan leader)

Eywa (Na’vi goddess)

#fanfic #fanfiction #avatar fanfiction #avatar the way of water #atwow #atwow fanfiction #avatar movie #atwow fics #neteyam sully #neteyam #neteyam x reader #neteyam x you #neteyam x y/n #neteyam x na'vi!reader #neteyam x omaticaya!reader #neteyam x female reader #neteyam x fem!reader #neteyam sully x reader #neteyam suli x reader

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musingmeaninglessly · 1 year

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Lo'ak w/ a Human Girlfriend

Y'all went to town with the Neteyam post- over 100 notes in less than 24 hrs?? 😳 Thank you thank you thank you 🥰

Anyway, here's Lo'ak's💙

Unlike his big brother, no one was that surprised that Lo'ak ended up dating a human. Along with Kiri, he's always been the most invested in his father's original species, accompanying Kiri and Spider to the lab and learning about human stuff.

His first thought when he saw you was 'there's humans that aren't ugly like Spider??' 💀 Yes, he'd seen other female scientists around but never paid them any attention as they were so much older. But you? Absolutely blew him away.

When he finally got the balls to tell you how he felt, the two of you became the most sickeningly sweet couple anyone on Pandora had ever seen.

Jake, and even Neytiri, were approving of your relationship. In some ways, you brought out a more tender, responsible side to Lo'ak that Jake would praise often.

Now, although this boy is over 2ft taller than you, he's such a clingy baby. His hands will always be on you (not like that) , and there's really nothing you can do about it. Whether it be holding hands, having his face nuzzled into the top of your head, or him squishing your soft waist, his touch is a constant.

Speaking of, you two definitely link pinkies and make pinky promises. Being with you helps him accept his more human-like traits, and it's just one of the many things he loves about you.

He's also fascinated by your human features, and lack of Na'vi ones. He finds your tiny hands and feet so cute, not to mention the softness of your flesh that's uncharacteristic for Na'vi women. And he's very vocal about his admiring curiosity, always asking you questions and giving compliments.

Now, Lo'ak is protective of you, but he's also a klutz. Like, if you ask to sit on his shoulders while walking through the forest, you'd better hold tight because you're so light to Lo'ak that he might forget that you could fall a considerable way. So, you've had a few near-misses and minor accidents, but each time he learns from his mistakes and vows to be better.

Overall, your relationship with Lo'ak helps him embrace the parts of him that he's always been insecure of. With you, he feels needed and seen, an entirely new experience which he loves you for.

Bonus; He definitely calls you babe, baby, syulang, cutie, tiny, etc.

#lo'ak #lo'ak sully #lo'ak te suli tsyeyk'itan #avatar lo'ak #lo'ak sully x reader #lo'ak sully x human reader #lo'ak sully x fem human reader #lo'ak x reader #lo'ak x human reader #lo'ak x fem human reader #lo'ak fluff #lo'ak sully fluff #atwow #avatar #avatar 2 #na'vi x human #lo'ak x y/n #lo'ak sully x y/n

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blue-slxt · 6 months

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Kinkmas 1

🔞Minors Do Not Interact🔞

A/N: Merry Kinkmas! I'm so excited to participate in another event like this! Just as a heads up, a lot of my pieces this time around are shorter than my Kinktober ones. I still hope that you enjoy them though! All characters are aged up!

Kinkmas Masterlist

Pairing: Neteyam x Fem!Na'vi!Reader x Ao'nung

Warnings: Cockwarming, Poly Relationship, Anal Penetration, Teasing

You were so incredibly full. It was one thing to have a mate that always wanted to be near you, but your situation was a bit unique with your two mates. It wasn’t unusual, but the two of them always wanted to be up under you at all times. Even when you slept at night, neither of them were satisfied with simply holding you. It wasn’t close enough for their liking. They opted instead to sleep with both their cocks buried to the hilt inside the welcoming squeeze of both of your holes.

Ao'nung stayed nestled behind you, one hand resting lazily on your thigh. His light, steady breathing is only interrupted by the occasional kiss he gave you on the nape of your neck. Neteyam rested in front of you keeping you lovingly pressed into his chest. He kept a hand on your waist while his hips were angled upwards to press further into your gummy walls.

Being pressed between both of them left you in a tangled mess of limbs thrown messily over each other.

It was hard for you to even think about sleep with both of them keeping you filled like this. Every little move let you feel both of them rubbing inside of you.

You knew Ao'nung was a deep sleeper. There was no way you would be able to wake him with how content he was right now.

“Teyam” you whisper.

Luckily, Neteyam was a much lighter sleeper than your other mate. He hums a response lightly to you, still keeping his eyes closed.

“Teyam…’m so full”, you whine trying to grind your hips on him, but all that does is push you back on Ao'nung’s cock and stretch you open more. A staggered breath escapes your lips feeling the increasing pressure.

“I know, yawne. But we need sleep tonight.” he coos gently at you. Despite you being able to feel how his dick is twitching inside of your fluttering cunt, his face is still calm as ever.

“But Nete…need you to move…please”

“I’ll tell you what, if you sleep tonight, I’ll make sure to take extra good care of you in the morning.” he slowly drags himself out of you to just the tip only to push inch after inch back into your waiting walls.

You bite your lip trying to stifle a moan.

“Can you do that for me, tìyawn?” He says cupping your face with his hand and rubbing his thumb along your cheek. He finally opens his eyes half way to look down at your desperate, blushing face.

You are nothing short of gorgeous. If he weren’t so exhausted right now, Neteyam would absolutely have his way with you just like this. But he hopes that his promise of morning relief will be enough to satiate you for now. Luckily for him, you nod your head in agreement, making a small smile settle on his lips.

“That’s my good girl”, he kisses your forehead and settles himself to try and go to sleep.

Even though you agreed to wait until the morning, you still know sleep won’t come so soon. So you resign yourself to a long night of staring at the wooden posts of your marui until your body gives out, but Ao'nung’s voice quietly whispers in your ear, “Want me to help you out, paskalin?”

Taglist: @minnory @sussybaka10 @celess0 @funkyflamingo01 @itchaboi-itchyboy @loaksulluyswife @myloveforyouisforever @neteyams-wh0re @the-mourning-moon @wakanda-forever-andotherfandoms @zafrinaxyz @neteyamsyawntu @pandoraslxna @xylianasblog @hotdsworld @teyamsatan @sulieykte @neteyamsoare @neteyamswillow @cryinginthemoonpool @plooto @eywaite @quaritchsluts @jakexneytiri @luvv4j4ybe11 @eywascall

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teyums · 7 months

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thinking about jake sully and how he talks you through it ౨ৎ {18+}, nsfw, got the sudden urge to write for jake??

“Breathe, babygirl.”

Eyes screwed shut and chest stuttering; you only remember to when he reminds you.

His hands, large and rough, but gentle when they need to be, cage the form of your waist as he helps you slide down on him, slowly. You can feel every vein pulsing against the ridges of your walls as he sinks inside and it has you mewling into the stuffy air, tinged with the lingering scent of your sex.

“That’s it—Careful, hon.” With your swollen lips spreading around his thick length for the third time tonight, you find your nails digging into the skin of his forearms as you clutch onto them for stability. Somehow, the stretch is always the same. Hurts all the same. Makes you cum all the same.

“Wouldn’t want you to go ‘n hurt yourself, now would we?”Jake chuckles lowly in your ear and your walls clench at that, which earns a soft grunt from him.

“N-no, sir,” you gasp with a quick shake of your head. He plants a wet kiss to the peak of your flushed cheek when he hums, little patches of saliva coating your skin as he drags his lips down to your now outstretched neck next.

“Mhm, that’s right. Wouldn’t be much fun, huh? What do you think?”

Jake knows how much you love and hate when he talks like this while he’s fucking you. As if you can actually hold up a conversation and respond in your inebriated state. It’s so hard for you to focus on what he’s asking you, and he finds it funny how you’re never able to answer his questions coherently and always settle for dropping your head back and whining out some expletive that he should probably be spanking you for. But alas, he was a little busy at the moment, so that’d have to wait.

Big arms wrapped around your torso, his toned forearms press right beneath the cusp of your breasts as his hips snap you up and into an involuntary bounce on his cock, which only pushes him deeper into your pussy every time you land right back in his awaiting lap.

“It’s gonna be a long night, princess.”

masterlist

#potentially back from the dead #jake sully smut #avatar way of water #jake sully x you #jake sully x reader #jake sully x fem reader #avatar 2 #avatar smut #avatar fanfiction #jake sully x female reader smut #jake sully x na'vi reader #jake sully x human!reader

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pandoraslxna · 11 months

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Avatar snacks I want inside of me:

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rosyjn · 9 months

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giving Jake Sully a handjob... 18+ MDNI!

For @pandoraslxna's kinktober prompt 01↓

warnings: mentions of injury (nothing graphic), and very detailed smut so just be warned, also descriptions of s*men ✋

"Just relax. Go on, relax," you coo, softly rubbing Jake's shoulders and prompting him to sit on the floor. His face had a small bandaged gash on it and his hair was rough and messy from an earlier hunt. "Feelin' okay? Mo'at fixed you up real nice, I bet," you softly speak to him.

"Yeah, she did. Don't know what I'd do without her," he sighs, leaning back onto the wall of the tent.

"Hunt didn't go too well, huh?" you reach up and fix his hair, moving it out of his face. He nods, looking down in shame. You frown at this gesture, knowing he deserves better. "I know what will make you feel better..." you suggest, causing him to look back up and into your eyes.

"What?" he asks. You just plant a small kiss on his cheek before reaching down and untying his loincloth. He chuckles and bucks his hips up. When the skimpy piece of fabric falls off of him, you push it away and lower yourself to his still flaccid cock.

"I'm gonna make you feel really good," you whisper, taking it into your hand and already feeling it harden and warm up with your touch. Your fingers caress the sensitive length, you brush them up and down against his shaft. His breath hitches and he bucks his hips up again. You listen to his eagerness and engage your whole hand, wrapping it around his girth and slowly pumping up and down.

"Yes... yes..." he mutters to himself, eyes screwed shut as you pump and stroke him. His dick throbs and pulsates in your hand, now rock hard and hot. It doesn't take long for little spurts of pre-cum to appear. You use your other hand, using both of them to pump Jake's long cock at the same time. This sends him over the edge. He groans and grabs your hair, muttering gibberish as his milky white cum squirts out of his tip and onto your face and hands.

"Jeez!" you giggle and pull away when a warm glob lands on your cheek. He squirms as the rest of his orgasm takes over his body and you watch while wiping the semen off of yourself with a spare rag. As he comes down from his high, he almost looks embarrassed. His eyes never leave you when you clean his torso and crotch after taking care of yourself. After that, you get up, tossing the rag in a hamper. "You're real quiet today," you remark.

"Just thinking about what I'm gonna do to ya.."

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byunpum · 9 months

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Hifwo

Pair: Neteyam x Y/N human reader

Warning: All characters are in their 20s (grow up), flirting, size difference, mmm I think nothing else

Request: (Anon) I was thinking about a neteyam x fem!human!reader. Reader is a short girl, maybe 4'11 (1.48) and Neteyam takes advantage of it and corners her to the wall...

AVATAR MASTERLIST

It was the fourth time Neteyam had checked that you were safe in the place where he had left you. You wanted to go hunting with him. Lo'ak had invited you to go for a walk with him and spider, kiri and tuk but you preferred to be with him. He liked you to stay with him, so you would see and learn how to hunt. But on the other hand, he was a little nervous about you being in a place as dangerous as the jungle of pandora. You were a human, anything was bigger than you, including him. Neteyam comes down from the branch he was on, causing him to make a startling noise as he falls right in front of you. You look up in alarm, and frustrate your brow. "teyam you scare me!!!" you whine a little, but your attention returns to the notebook in your hands. You were drawing some mushrooms that were next to you, they were very brightly colored.

"Sorry babe, but you're distracting me" neteyam says, coming a little closer to sit right in front of you. Touching your naked feet, he liked to play with your little toes. You laugh when you feel his cold hands, touching your feet. "Me? Why? I haven't moved from here" you speak, working on your drawing. "'Babe…" neteyam pauses, lowering his head to your knee, to kiss you on the knee. You look up, laughing at the action. You knew that neteyam's way of showing affection was more physical than yours, at first it made you uncomfortable. But by now you were used to it. This poor man was just asking to be loved and pampered after a busy day of chores that his father usually ordered him to do.

"You are so small, any creature could eat you" says neteyam, now he was sitting down. You laughed at his comment, you knew he was right. But you were not as weak as you looked, you knew you could run away from any creature. "Teyam you offend me, you know? I think I am very good at running away, not fighting…but I can run fast" you speak, with a tone of playfulness. Neteyam just looked at you with adoration, you were so cute. "Mmm I don't think so" says Neteyam. You lift your back a little off the back you were sitting on. Giving a punch to neteyam's chest, neteyam just watches as your punch doesn't have any effect on him. "Ok, I give up… but that doesn't mean I won't do my best to run away" you say.

Neteyam is silent for a moment, he was thinking what he would do in his next move. He chuckles to himself, as he begins to rise to his knees. " You think you can run away, ah?" asks neteyam in a flirty tone. As he lines up and slides over your body. Which in a matter of seconds, was covered by neteyam's. His whole body created a blanket that covered every view you had of you, raising your head to see neteyam's cute face. He had an idiot's grin on his face, analyzing how small you had become underneath him. You try to speak, but the only thing that comes out of your mouth is a 'I-hum-'. You were blushing so hard, damn it he knew the effect it had on you. Netayam bends lower, so that he is now close to your ear.

You could feel his breathing, his hot breath hitting the skin of your neck. "The creatures I speak of are much larger than me… they would have no mercy on you" neteyam places one of his hands, on the side of your thigh. Squeezing the soft skin, moving his palm gently up and down. Your breathing becomes more heaving, it was making you very nervous. "They would devour you in seconds" neteyam now leaves a kiss on your neck. Causing you to giggle from the tickle. "Nete…" you whimper a little. The feeling in your lower belly was building up, but he just replies you with a 'hmmm' as he continues to leave kisses on your shoulders and neck. You were grateful for the outfit kiri had prepared for you, it allowed neteyam to have all the access he wanted to your body.

"would you like to know how long it would take me to devour you?" neteyam pauses from kissing, waiting for an answer from you. You, as best you can, place your hands on the sides of her face. Your hands were so small, you could barely hold part of his jaw. You approach him to give him a soft kiss on the lips, now making eye contact with him (if you want to know more about the type of oxygen mask the reader uses 'read here'). Neteyam gives you a smile, and copies your movements. But now he settles more on the ground, so that he lies more on his stomach. Causing you to spread your legs, allowing him to settle more on top of you. Kissing your neck, moving down your chest to leave some wet kisses. Feeling your hands tangle in his hair, feeling your hands push him further down…right where you were needing him most.

Kissing and giving a few soft bites on your stomach. Enjoying the difference in texture of your skin, so soft and delicate. Dragging his body further back, placing his hands on either side of your hips. You now bring your legs up, watching as one of neteyam's hands moves one of your knees to open the space between your legs.

You two were so intent on your business that you had barely heard the lazy noises that were approaching you. Neteyam in a quick, and almost minimal movement moved up towards your lips giving you a sloppy kiss. "I don't see you running…don't you plan to run away?" he joked, seeing how your cheeks were pink, your mouth half open. And your pupils dilated, waiting for him to do what he wants with you. "So pretty" says neteyam.

"ahhhh my eyes!!!" screams spider. Neteyam and you look in the direction where the scream came from. Noticing lo'ak, kiri and spider. Even tuk…who had her mouth open. Spider runs up to tuk and covers her eyes. You push as hard as you can on neteyam, and he quickly sits up. Trying to adjust some of the clothes he had moved from his previous actions. Neteyam crosses his legs tightly and tries to cover his growing bulge with his hands. "You two can't be doing your stuff over here" kiri speaks, the girl was furious. You shift your gaze, you were embarrassed.

"I don't see you running,eh?" lo'ak tries to imitate neteyam's voice. "You can go…why don't you take tuk to the village" says neteyam, sounding annoyed. His brothers were still bothering him, and you were hiding more on the log.

The group of boys walk away, but if not before they continue to joke about the scene they just saw. Neteyam looks at you, and can see that you are almost completely hidden in a bush that was next to you. And he couldn't contain his laughter. "What are you laughing at?" you are embarrassed, the least you wanted is for your friends to see you in that situation. Neteyam approaches you again, placing his hand on your neck. "I see you can really run away…you're practically hiding in this corner" neteyam bends down to brush his nose against yours. "How about we go somewhere else…yeah?" says neteyam. You stare at him for a couple of seconds, quickly picking yourself up off the ground starting to run as fast as you can. Listening as neteyam laughs, and starts to get up from the ground. Letting you run for a while, after all it was only fair that he gave you a head start.

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inlovewithpandora · 26 days

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ꕥ — Found Someone Better / Forest Meets Reef

Artists — Tonowari x fem!avatar!reader

Genre — Chapter Two

Lyrics — Coming into Metkayina territory has you anxious, scared that they won’t except you and your son but those thoughts are pushed out the way when the Olo’eyktan accepts you with open arms, while having his eye on you at the same time.

Music Advisory — Pre-Atwow, slight angst in the beginning (from Jake & Neytiri), fluff, widow!tonowari, implied/undertones of flirting (from Tonowari & Reader); the character Ralak is @zestys-stuff’s oc and will be depicted as Tonowari’s best friend.

Duration — 3.5-3.7k

Index — Uniltìrantokx - dreamwalker/avatar・Uturu - a Na'vi tradition stating that any refugee seeking sanctuary must be granted safe harbor・Vey - food・Mawey - calm ・Karyu - teacher

Words From Artist — Chapter Two is finally here! Thank you to everyone who commented, liked, and reblogged part one! I appreciate all the love and support! I hope y’all enjoy and always feel free to comment and reblog, I love reading y’all reactions!

Current Platforms — Chapter One ・ Series M.list ・Series Taglist・Main M.list

Village life is now settling down, meaning families are now returning to their homes so they can rest and recover from today’s activities. As Jake and Neytiri walk home with the kids trailing behind them she can’t help but think about how harshly she’s been treating you lately. She feels bad because she knows that over the years all you’ve done is love her purely and she nor Jake have been reciprocating that.

Neytiri knows she can’t change Jake’s actions, he’s far too stubborn to muster up any regretful emotions but she can at least acknowledge her mistakes and apologize for her own actions. When she gets home she wants to talk things out with you in hopes to change your relationship around for the better.

After a few more steps the family finally makes it home and the kids start running around looking for you. “Mama!” Neteyam shouts while running throughout the marui, wanting to greet you with a hug. When Neteyam doesn’t hear your voice or footsteps it makes him wonder where you could be. “Where is Mama?” Neytiri can only respond with a simple answer, telling him you’re probably out gathering fruits for dinner even though she doesn’t know your whereabouts either.

Neytiri’s mind starts reeling with memories from throughout the day, trying to remember if she’s seen you since she and Jake left early to start their clan duties as leaders. “Jake, have you seen y/n today?” Jake shakes his head no, not being much of any help, making her hiss in annoyance at his lack of care about you.

“Mom, what does this say?” Kiri runs toward Neytiri with an open letter in hand, making her brow bones fur in confusion as to what it could be. As her eyes scan the letter, taking in the mixture of english and na’vi words that are written on the paper, tears begin to pool her eyes which grabbed Jake’s attention, making him wonder what could be so bad that it brought her to tears. “What does it say?”

The Tsakarem quickly tells the children to go to their room so she could talk to Jake alone and not scare or worry them. Once she sees the kids are gone Neytiri walks over to Jake and clings to him, letting her emotions take over. A shaky breath parts from her lips before she burst into tears, feeling like her world was crumbling at her feet. She didn’t mean for this to happen, for things to get so bad and cause you to do something drastic like this but now it was too late, too late to repair the relationship you once had. “She’s gone, Jake. y/n and Lo’ak are gone!”

—

After an eight hour flight and dealing with a restless child you finally reach the coastal reefs. As you’re getting closer you’re riddled with nerves but you put on a strong face for Lo’ak, not wanting him to see you rattled with the new environment. The most frightening part about this whole situation is worrying if the Metkayina would be kind enough to let you and Lo’ak seek refuge with them, especially since both of you are considered demons in the eyes of the Na’vi.

Once you fly over the atoll you notice how the pattern of water goes from rough to calm and how the dark blue to color shifts to nearly crystal clear. From your perspective you begin to see an island, humongous trees erupting out of the water, holding together the structure of multiple homes, and multiple palm trees scattered across different areas of the sand. Your nose begins to fill with the scent of salt water, the windy breeze is blowing through your hair, and the sun is beginning to warm your skin.

All of these changes in the atmosphere makes you realize you finally made it to Awa’atlu, the place Mo’at described to you vividly. When you fly over the seawater lagoons you can see multiple Reef Na’vi averting their gaze from their duties to you, making them dive into the water so they can quickly get to shore to figure out why you’re invading their lands. The sound of a horn being blown rings through the air, causing a sleeping Lo’ak to stir in your arms and eventually open his eyes. The sound is familiar to you, it’s a universal sound used in all Na’vi clans when the village needs to be notified of something.

Hufwe lands on a strip of sand, finally able to rest her aching wings from the tiresome journey. She lets out a screeching sound before clawing her nails into the sand. You disconnect your queue and gracefully slide off the back of your ikran, doing a quick stretch so you can release the tension in your muscles. You place your hands under Lo’ak’s armpits and raise him off your ikran and place him onto the ground. “Mawey, okay?” You kneel in front of him and begin to straighten his clothing and fix his hair that became a little messy along the ride, wanting him to look his best in front of the Metkayina. He nods in response, making you smile before grabbing his hand and walking toward the crowd of people.

The Metkayina can’t help but stare at you and your son, of course they’re curious to why you’re here but most of all it’s because of how different your appearance is from theirs. There’s plenty of chatter and whispers among the Metkayina, questions and concerns bouncing between the clan members. The crowd is getting louder but once a loud husky voice shouts throughout the area everyone silences themselves. “What is the meaning of this?” People immediately begin to disperse to make a path for their Olo’eyktan who’s dressed in traditional leader clothing, carrying a large spear into his hand, making an entrance on a large aquatic creature. You start using your context clues and realize it’s Tonowari, the fierce warrior, respected leader, and well-spoken statesman Mo’at told you about.

You and him exchange a formal Na’vi greeting, slightly dipping forward and your hands touching your forehead as a sign of respect before he speaks. “Why have you and the little one come to us?” He inquires as he looks between you and Lo’ak with softened eyes.

“We come seeking uturu, Olo’eyktan.” You say in the most confident voice you can muster, feeling slightly intimidated by his presence. Even though he was tall and had an authoritative demeanor you can tell he’s a kind man and you’re hoping he will show some of that kindness today and allow you to live in his village.

“Why?”

“I no longer want to live in the forest. I don’t feel safe there anymore so I gathered my things and brought my son, hoping to create a new life here.” As you speak you feel Lo’ak’s tail curl around your leg, something he always does when he’s near you and feeling nervous or anxious. When you pick him up he immediately clings to you, resting his head on one shoulder and placing his arm around the other.

Tonowari takes in you and Lo’ak features, noticing your thin tails, skinny arms and legs, and lack of fins. In his eyes your bodies were weak which means you will be slow in the water. “We are Reef people, you are Forest people, your skills will mean nothing here.” He knows it will be hard for you both to keep up, especially since your physique is accommodated for forest activities instead of aquatic.

While Tonowari contemplates on your capabilities, some of the villagers decide to outburst their concerns. “They aren’t even true Na’vi!” A random man shouts amongst the crowd of people. “They have demon blood, you can’t possibly let them live among us!” A woman angrily yells out while pointing at you and your son’s four-fingered hands, making the crowd of Metkayina surrounding you gasp in shock.

You wince at their comments, knowing that their words can make or break Tonowari’s decision. “I know I was once a sky person but now I’m Na’vi, I’m willing to adapt and do whatever it takes to fit in here.” With each word your voice begins to tremble and the exhaustion in your eyes is beginning to become overshadowed by tears. You’re practically begging him to accept you at this point, if he turns you away you will have to go search for another clan and you don’t know where to look. “I promise we will hold our weight and not cause any problems. All I ask is a sanctuary for me and my son, I just want to keep him safe.”

Tonowari lets out a sigh as your words run a mile a minute around his head, thinking about your request. Making this decision is difficult for him to make on his own, usually he would have his mate Ronal to share the burden of decision making with but she unfortunately went to live among Eywa years ago. He often thinks about what she would do or say in situations like this and that’s what helps guide his decision of you staying.

“This young woman and child will stay with us. We will provide them with food and shelter. We will help them find a role in the clan and learn our ways. We will treat them as our brothers and sisters, if there is anyone who is not treating them with respect and kindness they will be dealt with accordingly.” As Tonowari speaks he turns to look at the crowd of people, placing heavy emphasis on his last sentence so everyone is aware. Hearing the sternness in his voice the clan shows no objection or resistance, making him end his speech with a content nod. Even though he’s still curious to the true reason you were here and still processing your surprise arrival, he’s still willing to welcome you with open arms and to save his questions until you settle in.

When you hear his statement you finally release the anxiety induced breath you’re holding and let out a sigh of relief before immediately showing your appreciation. “Thank you Olo’eyktan, you will not regret your decision.” You can’t possibly express the gratitude you currently feel, now that he’s allowed you to stay the hard part is over, you can finally have a shot at a happy life again. He returns a smile your way before telling some of his warriors to go grab your belongings from your ikran. Once they collect everything they ask you to follow them, leading you into the direction of an empty marui, your new home.

—

The sound of birds chirping and waves crashing against the sand were powerful, it was something you would have to get used to but you know the adjustment won’t be hard. Your marui is near the heart of the village, giving you easy access to anything nearby. You love how all the mauri’s are placed above the reef, allowing you to see the beautiful oceanic creatures as you walk along the spongy pathways.

As you watch Lo’ak play with his toy Toruk beside you, making his own screeching noises to bring his imagination to life, your heart swells with joy knowing that you were able to achieve your goal, moving him into a safe environment. Your family is now miles away from the Olo’eyktan and Tsakarem of the Omatikaya clan and you can’t be more rejoiceful. When you hear the sound of footsteps coming toward the entryway of your marui your head turns swiftly, wondering who it could be since you aren’t expecting visitors.

“Hello, y/n. I hope I’m not disturbing you.” Tonowari saunters inside with his children trailing behind him, a boy and a girl.

“No, not at all. What brings you by?”

“I wanted to introduce your son to my children, Tsireya and Ao’nung, they will help guide him in learning the way of water from a child’s perspective.” Tonowari places his hand behind their backs, slightly pushing them forward, silently encouraging them to go and talk to Lo’ak.

You think it’s sweet that Tonowari’s children are going to help him navigate learning the ways of water because you want him to be social with the village children and make new friends and who’s better to be friends with than the Olo’eyktan’s children. “It’s nice to meet you both.” You flash a smile towards the little ones before looking at Lo’ak, waiting for him to introduce himself.

Once your son tells them his name and all three of them move in the corner of the room and begin to talk and play amongst themselves, trying to get familiar with one another which gives you and Tonowari an opportunity to talk. “I really want to say thank you again for accepting me and Lo’ak into the clan, I’m beyond grateful.” You’ve expressed your gratitude every time you see him throughout the village because you truly can’t thank him enough, his kindness truly saved your life.

“No need to thank me, I did what any man with a good heart would do.” As both of you continue talking he begins to admire your features, your wide yellow eyes and the eyebrows that frame them, your black braided hair that reaches the middle of your back, adorned with wooden beads, and your four fingers. He’s heard plenty of stories about how the Omatikaya accepted humans into their lives to create Uniltìrantokx but he never thought he would meet one in his lifetime.

“Well, I appreciate it a lot Olo’eyktan-”

“Please, call me Tonowari.” His statement catches you off guard, you’re used to a man demanding respect with the title of Olo’eyktan so you assumed he would want to always be called by his title. You nod your head slightly with a small smile, making a mental note to call him by his birth name.

“I also brought along some clothes that are more suitable for the water.” He walks outside and within a few seconds he comes back inside with a basket in his hand, filled with child-sized loincloths for Lo’ak and matching sets of bra tops and loincloths for you. Everything was embellished with seashells, beads, flowers, and anything else that Eywa provides as decorations.

You grab the basket from him and place it on your wooden table, placing your hands inside and start rummaging through to look at each piece of clothing. “Thank you, these are beautiful. I can barely decide which one I should wear first.” You chuckle softly to yourself, knowing that when it comes to clothes you have a tendency of being indecisive.

“How about this one?” Tonowari places his hand in the basket, going to grab the top he thinks will look appealing against your dark blue skin. When he finally locates it he goes to wrap his hand around it but he stops when he feels something warm against his skin. He shifts his gaze downward and that’s when he finds the source of warmth, your hand tangled together with his.

When it registers in both of your minds what’s happening you lift your head, causing your golden orbs to lock with his oceanic eyes. This goes on for a few seconds, staring into each other’s eyes with a light blush on your face. The moment would’ve lasted forever but the sound of the children’s laughter brought you both back to reality. “I think this one is pretty.” You say in a tone that’s barely above a whisper, trying to keep yourself at ease while Tonowari towers over you. “I will wear it when I come to communal dinner tonight.”

“Well, I will leave so you can get ready.” Tonowari turns his head and beckons for his children to come, telling them it was time to go home. He leads them outside the marui and before he turns to walk along the spongy pathways he looks at you one last time with a small smile, making your blush even more apparent. When he’s fully out of your line of sight you let out a sigh, feeling like you’ve embarrassed yourself in front of him. If Tonowari makes you feel like this with the smallest interaction you don’t know what you’re going to do during lengthy conversations.

—

Tonowari is sitting with some of the hunters when you arrive at the beach for communal dinner. Lo’ak was walking beside you but once he saw Ao’nung, Tsireya, and the other children sitting together he ran off to be with them, leaving you by yourself. When Tonowari notices you, sitting down by yourself with a shell plate filled with grilled fish and cubed fruit, wearing the golden colored reef macrame top he recommended, he can’t pry his eyes from you no matter how much he tries.

He’s trying his best to not make it noticeable to the hunters around him and it’s working, no one noticed, except for his right hand man, Ralak. He can see a small twinkle in Tonowari’s eye, the same look that casted upon his face whenever he saw Ronal. Ralak doesn’t want to bring it up in front of everyone but he’s definitely making a mental note of it so he could bring it up later.

He can Tonowari wants to come up to you, he just assumes he needs a little nudge. Since they are sitting beside each other he places his hand on his shoulder, gesturing his head in your direction. “Go to her.” When Tonowari hears his statement he scrunches his eyebrow bones, wondering how he knew you were on his mind.

Tonowari decides to listen to his best friend and come up to you, hoping that the conversation will go smoothly. “It seems like you're enjoying your vey.” He predicts while taking the empty seat next to you, surprising you in the process. You didn’t expect him to come up to you, especially while he was talking to the other hunters which made you assume it was an important conversation.

“Yes I am, this fish is very tasty, better than what I used to hunt back in the forest.” The different spices you’re tasting were mouth watering, the food is delicious, the best seafood you’ve tasted in a long time. You wipe your mouth with a cloth you always keep in your pouch, wanting to make sure your face is free of any crumbs while speaking.

“Feel free to take as much as you like, we have plenty to go around.” When Tonowari finishes his sentence he notices your gaze is on your son who was eating and laughing with the other Na’vi children. “Your son will have a good life here. We have plenty of things to occupy him, the karyu’s are wonderful at teaching the children the skills and abilities they need and he has plenty of opportunities to make friends even though it seems like he’s made some already.”

“Yeah it does, I’m so glad he’s already adjusting to life here.” a smile spreads on your face, happy that the children were accepting him despite his differences.

“Soon you will adjust as well and a good way to start is with learning our ways, do you know how to swim?”

“Only in shallow waters.” Your swimming skills weren’t the best but they were decent enough when you lived in the forest and only had to deal with rivers and lakes but now since you’re living in the reefs you need to be able to reach the depths of the ocean.

“Well, you need to reach all levels of the ocean to properly be one of the people. I will meet you tomorrow near the shore at sunrise.” Tonowari was willing to teach you himself, even though there are many qualified people who can do the same thing. Most would say he’s just being the kind man Ewya molded him to be but in reality he’s doing this so he could be closer to you.

“I will be there.” You’re excited to learn from Tonowari and gain more knowledge about the Metkayina since you were a scientist at heart but you know it won’t be easy, especially since you’ve been so programmed with how things were done in the forest. Rewiring your brain to make room for the way of water is going to come with its challenges but you know you’re capable of doing it.

When the clan conversations begin to simmer down everyone starts making their way home, ready to spend the rest of their evening with their families. When the kids walk over to you and Tonowari, yawning and rubbing their eyes, the two of you knew it was time to call it a night so they could rest. “C’mon, Lo’ak. Let’s get you home.” Lo’ak, Ao’nung, and Tsireya exchange goodbyes before you picked him up and start walking down the beach and toward your dwelling.

As you disappeared into the shadows of the night Tonowari began walking his own children home. As he walked along the bouncy pathways he began to anticipate his lesson with you tomorrow, he couldn’t wait to teach you the way of his people, he was excited to see you again, up close and personal.

Previous — Chapter One ・Next — Chapter Three

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#❖ — 🌳: 𝒀𝑶𝑼 𝑯𝑨𝑽𝑬 𝑨 𝑺𝑻𝑹𝑶𝑵𝑮 𝑯𝑬𝑨𝑹𝑻.!#atwow tonowari #tonowari fluff #tonowari fanfiction #tonowari x you #avatar tonowari #tonowari x f!reader #tonowari x fem!reader #atwow x reader #atwow x you #atwow fanfiction #atwow x y/n #avatar x female reader #avatar x y/n #avatar x na'vi reader

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queentheweeb · 1 year

Text

Rotxo X Fem Metkayina Reader

Prompt: "Just talk to me"

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You've known Rotxo your whole life. The two of you were always seen together whenever he wasn't with Aonung and Tsireya. You remember how at one point in time you were jealous of Tsireya because of his crush on her but, that was to be expected. All the guys had a crush on Tsireya and all the girls had a crush on Aonung just because they were the chief's and Tsahik's children. You only felt better when he realized that his feelings for her were not romantic, but instead, he saw her more as a sister due to them growing up so closely together. This gave you some hope in your heart that maybe one day your feelings for him will be reciprocated. However, you seem to be the only one to realize that he is actually quite popular amongst the teen Na'vi both the girls and the boys. The only one that you confided in was Tsireya and she supported it all the way.

"I can definitely come up with something for the two of you to spend more time together. However, it should be easy, because the two of you used to hang out all the time, and even though we have more duties, you should not shy away from hanging out with him, despite how your feeling has changed." You were currently sitting on your Ilu's with Tsireya having this conversation when the two of you should be collecting shells and jewels to bring back.

"That is very kind of you Tsireya but I do not wish to burden you with my own feelings. I need to be a big girl and stop avoiding him. Maybe if I gather enough courage, I can actually confess to him or I just might wait, because I do not wish to jeopardize our friendship." You were truly scared of the consequences of your actions. You will always love Rotxo as a friend before you will wish to love him as a mate and the thought of losing that connection, that friendship made you want to cry. You would rather swallow your feelings than risk losing a precious friendship.

"I do not think that your friendship with him will be jeopardized. You must remember who we are talking about here. He is literally one of the sweetest people we know on this entire island that we call home." She did have a point there, Rotxo was one of the sweetest people ever, and he will rather fight an Akula bare-handed than purposely hurt someone's feelings. That thought alone made you come to a realization that if you do confess your feelings to him, he may agree just to keep from hurting your feelings, which is much worse than anything. You would rather be sad and embarrassed than force him to agree with something simply because he put your feelings above his, which should never happen.

"I am going to have to think about all of this." Tsireya Looked like she was going to push you to talk more but thankfully, she got the hint, and plus, she is just too sweet to put you on the spot like that.

"That is fine, but for now let the two of us continue doing what we are supposed to do before we both get in trouble." You both giggled and smirked at each other before diving into the water to get the shells and stuff that you needed. The two of you collected many shells and jewels and stones to bring back and by the time the two of you were done, that is when you noticed that her brother and Roxto had come back from hunting. You felt your heart and your stomach flutter with nerves when Rotxo came into view.

"What have the two of you been up to?" The four of you talked for a while with you steadily avoiding eye contact with Roxto, who took notice and kept looking at you with eyes of concern. The brother-sister duo also took notice of your odd behavior but chose not to say anything as they looked at each other and had a silent conversation.

"Hey Y/N, it has been a while since the two of us have hung out, would you like to come with me for a while after we drop off our things?" You almost withered at the sincere and hopeful look he was giving you. You knew that he knew that you would not reject him in front of the other two since it would raise too much suspicion. You almost scowled at his plan because you were not sure you will be able to contain how you truly feel once alone with him.

"Of course, I would love to." You were so focused on looking at him that you missed the Aonung and Tsireya looked at each other.

"Why don't the two of you get a head start then?" You turn to give Tsireya a confused look as she reached over and plucked the basket of jewels, shells, and stones that you collected with her. You looked over to see Aonung doing the same thing to Rotxo, who was just as confused as you were.

"See the two of you later. We will have an excuse for why the two of you are missing." You watched as the brother and sister disappeared on their Ilu's never looking back, leaving you alone with Rotxo. You turned to him to see that he was already staring at you, making you flush with slight embarrassment. You knew you were acting weird because you never acted like this around him, but you couldn't help the way you feel. Your infatuation with him only grew stronger and stronger until you realized that what you thought was platonic was, in fact, romantic feelings for him. You were too scared to figure out how his feelings were for you though.

"Y/N." You looked around the waters to see that the two of you were alone, and you weren't about to run away from him. However, you were too nervous to look at him, and he took notice of that. "Why don't you want to look at me?" You want to speak, but you got tongue-tied, and the words kept dying from your throat. You wanted to cry because you felt so silly in front of him. These feelings were making you nervous, something you never thought you would feel when you would be around him.

"I..." You managed to get out a single word before clamming up. You felt him sigh and the water move as he moved the Ilu to be directly next to you, close enough that you felt his leg pressed tightly against your leg. You still refused to look at him until a cool hand was pressed under your chin and he forced you to look at him. He had a small frown, and his head tilted with genuine concern for you.

"Just talk to me, please." He was so earnest that you were not going to deny him what he asked, even if you were fighting against it. It was like an invisible force making you open up to him.

"I really like you. I have a crush on you, and I do not want to mess up our friendship because I have romantic feelings for you. I was just going to pretend that I did not have them, but it got harder and harder to hide that I ended up avoiding you, which was the last thing that I wanted to do." There you go. You said it, you admitted it You sighed and closed your eyes, waiting for the inevitable but it never came. In fact, you heard a chuckle, which was very uncharacteristic of him, and had your eyes shooting open to stare at him. You knew you were blushing because he was already staring but you were too confused to try and hide right now.

"That's why you have been avoiding me? Because you have a crush on me, and you assumed it would not be returned. Yawntu, please." You felt your jaw drop, but you did not pull away when he leaned forward and pressed his forehead gently against yours. In fact, you found yourself closing your eyes again and purring lowly in your chest at the close proximity. "I wish you would've told me sooner than I wouldn't have to be worried about my future mate avoiding me." It was your turn to open your eyes again and gasp in shock.

"Your future mate?" You really should be focused on something else, but all you can focus on is the bloom of hope that erupted in your chest, especially when he smiled so sweetly at you.

"Yes, yawntu. Mine." When he leaned in for a kiss you leaned in to meet him the rest of the way. If you knew that, admitting your feelings would lead to this, you would have admitted them a very long time ago.

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#fanfic #fanfiction #quotev #fluff #rotxo x y/n #rotxo x fem reader #rotxo fluff #rotxo avatar #rotxo imagine #atwow #rotxo x you #rotxo x fem metkayina reader #fem na'vi reader #na'vi reader

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tiredmamaissy · 6 months

Text

Ralak te Sepwan ieyk’itan: Special Episode IV

Seed of Life

This is @zestys-stuff 's OC. All credits to this character goes to this beautiful, talented artist. Thank you again for allowing me to explore and create with him!

Masterlist ; Rut/Heat/Knotting Info

🔞 minors, do not interact 🔞

Characters: Metkayina!Ralak (24) x Sully!Omaticaya!Reader (19)

Warnings: nsfw, fluff, angst, early pregnancy smut (will be forewarned before it happens), daddy daughter drama, Ralak being little rough because reader won’t stop teasing him, Ralak literally has blue balls, ball play, blowjob, brief thigh fucking, likely incorrect na’vi, teacher/student dynamics/roleplay, p in v, quickie, squirting, masturbation, dirty talk, sexual tension, age gap

Disclaimer: This chapter entails pregnancy and sexual intimacy during early pregnancy. I include a warning directly before the smut happens in the case that you want to indulge in this chapter but aren’t necessarily up for the pregnancy smut.

Word Count: 10k sorry

Requested: Yes || No

Author’s Note: thank you guys for always being so patient with me. i love yall too the moon and back <3 happy holidays and a happy new year! also, I’ve realised that I unintentionally decided that Kiri is not involved in this series (i dunno honestly, it’s just occuring to me that I’ve never really mentioned her before and it feels difficult to incorporate her at this point i suppose). It seems like we (reader) have taken her place in this au in regards to being jakes adopted ‘babygirl’ (nothing else though—no superpowers or anything loool).

Synopsis: After telling Ralak that he's going to be a father, the reality dawns on you that you need to break the news to your own father.

<- Previous -> Next

This pregnancy shouldn’t be much of a surprise to you, honestly. How could you not be? After such a breeding it would be a miracle if you weren’t pregnant. Yet the news wasn’t quite sinking in, even when Tsireya looked at you with wide eyes and spelled it out for you. But now that you’re walking towards the tsahìk, you’re faced with reality and it begins to sink in as you count each step you take.

Forty-two…

The words that rolled off the tarsem’s tongue echo in your skull.

Forty-three…

Etching themselves into the bone, leaving you with no space to deny the truth.

Forty-four…

“You are with child.”

The ringing in your ears stops as your vision refocuses on the stone cold expression of the Tsahìk. Her voice is unfaltering and clear as it delivers the news to your ears a second time. Bowing to the taller woman, you sweep three fingers away from your forehead and turn your heel to walk away. But before you can take two steps she announces something that makes your ears stand tall.

“A boy.”

Her two harshly spoken words strike through your chest, a sinking feeling now brewing in the pit of your stomach. You stop dead in your tracks and lift your head that was once tilted down to your feet. Things become even more real, having you force down a wad of your spit to keep your vision from splitting again. You’re barely able to use your voice—your mouth partially open and your tongue rolling from the churn of your tummy.

“Thank you, Ronal.” You manage to squeak a decibel or two over a whisper, dropping your head again to lock your stare to your feet before fleeing the now-crowding scene. You overhear the people murmuring the news as you scurry away to your marui pod.

‘The forest girl expects the firstborn of the village’s best warrior’;

‘She won’t make it out alive!’;

‘Did you hear? She will birth the first of a new kind. A kind with demon blood’.

If your legs could go any quicker, they would.

A child grows in your womb now. A child for the man you love—Ralak. The man who deserves it most. You’re scared and excited all at once. Proud to bear a son for such a notable and fearsome man. But afraid of how your family will take to the news.

This was your first month of being a mated pair, and you’ve already succumbed to your most primordial instinct to mate. And with what everyone is already whispering, you’re scared of much more than that. Is what they say true? Is this a risky thing? Will he be teased for being different? Will he be rejected from the clan?

Does Ralak… even want this?

You both hadn’t even sat down and spoken about the possible consequences of such a cosmic event—your synced cycles. What if he hadn’t meant all the things he said? Or if he really just couldn’t prevent the things that he did during his rut? How would he react if that were the case?

Your mind is running at a hundred clicks an hour and your nerves are wringing your stomach that it takes the hot sand spilling through the cracks of your toes to make you realise that you’re already home.

And there he is, in all his glory.

Doing nothing other than sharpening his damn spear. Sitting on his knees, leaned back with his flexed abs and gathered brows, concentrating on his task—blissfully unaware of the gossip spreading throughout the clan. The sight brings serenity to the white noise in your head, leaving nothing but the crash of the waves and the splash of the ilus off in the distance. I

Ralak’s ears twitch as he senses your presence, but he remains focused on the stroke of his whetstone against the blade. He can feel your apprehension from where he sits, and he can already tell what you’re here for. Yet he chooses to keep his appearance no less than stoic, but not enough to be intimidating.

“Tanhì.” He hums low enough that you strain to hear him.

“I need to speak with you.” You utter, wetting your dry lips with a quick swipe of your tongue. You stand there fidgeting with your fingers as you await a reply from your husband. It’s almost mortifying how silent this man can actually be. You see the slight tilt of his head and his ear perk up to listen closely. Taking this as your cue to speak, you try to find the words to say.

How do I say this?

Ralak is a simple man, perhaps it’s better to give it to him straight. An easy, ‘I carry your unborn son’, would do, right? You begin to gnaw on the dry skin on your bottom lip as you think. But his silence is really getting to you today. How can he sit there so… unbothered? Not even a glance thrown your way or an eyelash batted. Maybe you should just spit it out — ‘you got me pregnant’.

“Hm?” He lets out a muffled grunt, swiping the whetstone against the spearhead. It sounds innocent. Like he’s just immersed in a task and couldn’t quite bring himself to completely stop.

“We no longer need to prepare for my heat.” You blurt out, not even knowing where the words came from. You witness his spine straighten and him quickly stilling his movements.

Little did you know his heart gallops at the speed of a direhorse, thumping wildly between his ribs as he prepares himself to finally hear you utter the words. Oh, how he had been waiting for your sweet voice to sing the news. But he realises that you seem to need an extra push to say them.

“And why is that?” Ralak husks, still unmoving.

You wait for him to turn around. To look your way. Something.

But… nothing.

“I’m pregnant.”

Ralaks heart skips a beat and his breath catches in his throat. A grin spreads from ear to ear, so strong and wide that if you were really paying attention you would have caught the way his ears stand at full height.

But you were too busy fighting the bubble of the blood in your thumping heart, trying to keep your frustration to a minimum. You had expected more. For him to turn around, at the very least. All you could hear was the da-dump and the silence between you two. Until you couldn’t take it anymore.

Perhaps it’s all the hushed chatter from earlier or maybe it’s just the new surge of hormones and out-of-whack pheromones but you can’t help the burn of your eyes as they fill with tears.

“So w-what? Not even a glance my way? You knock me up and have nothing to s-say for it?” You choke back your heated tears of frustration, Ralak now huffing a vehement sigh. “You’re not even surprised, or—” Your blubbering is cut short by your husband's quick movement.

Ralak instantaneously brings himself to his feet and storms over to you, towering over your petite frame. Now he’s peering down at you, dark, smouldering eyes holding the most intimidating gaze with you as he closes the distance between your bodies. He’s still damp from seeing to the ilus this morning that when your chest touches his cold, bare stomach, it hardens your nipples into stiff peaks.

“Surprised?” He rasps, his large hand flying to your lower stomach, gently pressing into it. Heaving shoulders slowing as he steadies his breathing, Ralak lowers his head to brush his lips against the shell of your ear—

“Do you not think I had every intention of putting this baby inside of you?”

Hearing this spoken in such an assertive tone sends shivers up your spine—Ralak knows exactly how to handle you and your… sensitivity. He always has. Your tail sways uncontrollably behind you, earning a well concealed smirk from the giant before you. It’s always been one of his favourite parts of you, but now—oh, now he has a new favourite part of you.

Your soon-to-be swelling belly.

“I have known.” He admits through a whisper, smoothing his entire palm over your budding womb, planting a quick kiss on your temple. “Your scent… it has changed, tanhì.”

“What?” You whisper, almost pulling away from his tender touches to look at him. “And you didn’t say anything?”

“I wanted to hear you say it. I have been waiting… to hear you say it.” He’s the one to pull away this time, looking you deeply in the eyes. His free hand raises, using his thumb to wipe away a tear seeping from the corner of your eye. “Please. Do not cry.”

You don’t even know what to say. Yet again, Ralak leaves you speechless—with trembling lips and a swelling throat.

“And you are actually eating the payoang niktsyey [fish wraps] I cook.”

“What?” You snort, letting loose a sudden, nasally giggle. You drop your smile and try to fix a serious expression on your face. “What do you mean? I always eat your payoang niktsyey [fish wraps]”

Ralak laughs, his three fingers tucking hair behind your ear, “I see you throw them to the ilus, tanhì. I am no fool.”

You laugh again, snotty-nosed and teary-eyed, sniffling when the uncontrollable giggling fit ends. “It seems that our son enjoys your cooking, ‘lak.” You bubbler with a wobbly smile, blinking harshly to clear your vision.

Ralaks eyes bulge as they frantically search yours—a beaming smile spreading across his lips, his pointed teeth on full display. “Son?” He exhales softly, his left brow bone jumping ever so slightly.

All you can do is nod, letting your wobbly smile morph into a grin. The tears come back like they never left, twice as much and even hotter than before. You swear you see Ralaks eyes gloss over too, glistering in the sunlight.

Ralak sinks to his knees, coming face to face with your soft tummy.

“My prrnen [baby]. My ‘evengan [son; boy child]. It is your sempu [daddy].” He whispers, heated lips slightly pressed against your silken skin. Chin tucked to your chest, you watch in awe, straining to listen to his hushed whispers. “I have wanted you for so long.”

Hearing that—oh, how hearing that makes you feel. You feel warm inside, your heart so full all your earlier fears melt away. Ralak looks up at you, azure blue eyes filled with nothing but love and adoration—gratitude and admiration.

“My sweet tanhì. You have made me the man I have always wanted to be.” He croons at you, planting a long, soft kiss on your stomach—eyes still locked with yours. “And I thank you for that. Nìt’iluke [forever; never-endingly]”

And just like that, the butterflies you felt when you first laid eyes on this man come rushing in, flapping their wings at full force.

“I am your mate.” You sputter out a little, tiny sob. “It’s what I-I am supposed to do.”

Ralak stands up, holding eye contact with you the entire way.

“You owe me nothing. It is an honour that you carry my unborn, y/n.” His hand leaves your stomach to grasp your hand, intertwining his thickset fingers with yours. “You will be a nawm [great] mother.”

“And you will be the best father.” You choke back your sobs, struggling to get your words out. A comfortable silence passes, where you both immerse yourselves into one another’s touch. Until Ralak witnesses your expression morph into something of worry.

“What is it?” He asks in a hushed voice, keeping his tone calm and cool.

“Speaking of… fathers.” The column of your throat undulates when you gulp hard, “How will I tell mine?”

Ralak swallows, too. The thought had crossed his mind a few times over the past week. He saw the answer as simple – tell him. Ralak holds a lot of respect for your father, looking up at him as a superior given his status and skill as a warrior. And although he’s slightly intimidated by your father, Ralak sees this respect as mutual—therefore, it should be returned. Surely, this will go smoothly if you both remain polite.

Right?

“We tell him. Together.” Ralak grasps your hand once more, giving it a gentle, reassuring squeeze, his heavy accent shining through now that he’s high on emotions, “I keep you safe. Both of you.”

——

Both you and Ralak make your way down the shore towards the webbing of overlapping mangrove roots. Though you insisted on breaking the news to your family by yourself, he was adamant that he accompanies you. You couldn’t bear the thought of your father lashing out on Ralak, especially in front of the others. You tried to explain that to him, but he simply shook his head and tightened the clasp of his saya (knife sheath) on his hip.

You make the trek by foot, wanting a little more time to think about what you were going to say, and he ensured to stay right behind you. Quite literally—looming behind you like some sort of bodyguard. Every na’vi you pass are quick to avert their gaze elsewhere when they see the giant you have as a shadow. They tried not to look to begin with, but it was a rare sight to see you two so close together among the clan.

Their hushed whispers are kept to an absolute minimum but Ralak hears them nonetheless. It doesn’t bother him. Not anymore, at least. It used to bother him before he had met you—hearing the chatter of the gossip about his voluntary six year celibacy despite being the chief’s right hand man. And now that the murmurs entail nothing but his relationship with you, he could care less.

But then he hears the indistinct mumble about the babe budding in your womb. It’s something along the lines of ‘it being some demon hybrid’. The comment alone has Ralak screeching to a halt, his head snapping in the direction of a stocky, young warrior in training. One that Tonowari had relentlessly urged Ralak to teach until he begrudgingly gave him a couple combat lessons.

Ralak’s eyes narrow and sharpen, snapping down to shoot a threatening leer down at him. That's all it took for the stumpy na’vi to drop his head in shame and scurry away with his younger companions.

Sensing that Ralak is no longer on your tail, you turn around, half-expecting him to be five steps behind. Instead, he’s right where you left him, with a reassuring smile and an extended hand gesturing you to ‘continue’. You return a light hearted smile and spin around, taking another step towards your family marui.

——

“To what do we owe the visit?” Neteyam smiles as he greets you at the marui door, arms splayed out for a hug. You smile and slump into your brother, allowing him to envelope you in a warm embrace. “We haven’t seen you in what feels like weeks, sis.”

“Because we haven’t.” Lo’ak adds, lurking behind his bigger brother, arms crossed over his chest with a grin on his face.

“Hey Lo’.” You say in a low voice, smiling at him as you let go of your big brother. Ralak silently stands at the marui door, head awkwardly tilted in an attempt to fit himself in such a tight space.

“Hey, sissy.” Lo’ak throws an arm around your neck, patting your shoulder a few times as he walks you further inside and away from Ralak. “What’s up with the shadow?” He doesn’t even try to quieten his voice as he nudges his chin in your husband's direction.

You force a little laugh, unwrapping his arm from around your neck so you can inch away back to your ‘shadow’. You back up until you bump into his solid build, making a muffled thump when you collide. He steadies you by the shoulders, lidded eyes flicking down to check that you’re okay. He can sense your nervousness.

“I–we… have something to tell you guys.” You begin, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. “Where’s everyone else?”

Lo’ak’s eyes squint, brows furrowing as the gears in his brain grind twice as fast to figure out what you could possibly be calling a family meeting for. “No fucking way. Already?” He blurts out when he finally puts two and two together. Your eyes widen when they dart over to him, catching sight of the shit eating grin plastered to his face.

Fuck, is this skxawng going to spoil it for me? You think to yourself, apparently loud enough for Ralak to hear. He squeezes your shoulders before sliding his hands down the full length of your arms and letting go. “Mawey [calm].” He breathes, his head still hanging low. You look behind you, tilting your head up to meet his comforting gaze.

“Hey, babygirl.” Jake’s voice snaps your attention back down, having you look your father in the eye. His smile is as wide as his arms as he approaches you for a hug.

“Dad. Hey.” You whisper, returning the hug and snuggling into his chest. You bask in the moment, lingering onto how things are now—before you drop the bomb on him.

“I missed ya.” Jake chuckles, rubbing your back. He finally lifts his head and sees your ‘shadow’ hovering a little closer than needed. “Jeez, let her breathe, boy. She’s just huggin’ her old man.” Ralak keeps his head hung and takes a small but noticeable step back. Jake gives you a quick peck on the head as he begins to pull away. “What have ya’ been up—”

Jake cuts himself short, leaning back in to smell your hair. His eyebrows gather when he recognizes the familiar scent. Neytiri has smelled similarly a few times before. Jake grinds his teeth, scrunched brows and narrow eyes giving away his current state of mind. His hands slide down your arms, gripping then as he looks you dead in the eye. “Y/n. You got somethin’ to tell me?”

“Dad–” You swallow down the knot in your throat, already getting choked up.

Jake's lips purse into a thin line as his death-stare immediately averts to Ralak. And for what feels like an eternity, nothing but silence fills the room. The tension in the air is almost suffocating. Jakes eyeing Ralak down whilst Ralaks stare is locked on the way he’s holding you.

You glance over at your brothers. One’s obviously got it figured out, arms crossed, shaking his head with a smug look on his face. And one is completely clueless—poor thing. You look back at your father who is now seething, leer averted back to you as he exerts all his energy into being patient.

“What’s going on? Guys?” Neteyam breaks the silence with a worried tone to his voice. His eyes bounce from person to person, until they land on his brother.

“He knocked her up.” Lo’aks whispers harshly, not even trying to be discreet. Neteyams brows raise and now he is, too, staring at you. You feel all the blood drain from your face and suddenly you’re extremely light in the head.

Mortified is an understatement.

Everyone is clearly waiting for you to confirm it. But you’re having such a difficult time saying the two silly little words. The pressure is on now, you could even see Ralak straining to hold his tongue. You finally muster up a cowardly nod, and immediately your fathers grip intensifies, squeezing your arms firm and tight. He’s looking down at you with eyes of disbelief and somewhat disappointment, frantically searching yours to see if this is really the truth. You let loose a low hiss, wincing when you feel the pinch of his grip.

Not even another second passes when you hear the slap of your husband’s large hands grabbing ahold of your father’s wrists.

“She is pregnant.”

A deep, but low growl rips from Ralaks chest. In other words, ‘never lay your hands on a pregnant woman’. Ralak dwarfs Jake as he inches in a little closer, grasping his wrists just firm enough to send this message.

“Yeah. Got it, bud.” Jake returns a growl through his teeth and tightened lips. He shifts his position slightly, eyes flicking down to acknowledge what his son in law is trying to get across. Nonetheless, Jake stands his ground. “Get your hands off me.”

Ralak tries to regain his composure, but his protective instincts have just about gone haywire. The urge to protect has never been so intense before. It’s like his soul knows that there’s just more to protect.

More at stake.

Ralak looks down at your fathers hands once more, silently making his point clear. He holds eye contact with Toruk makto whilst he remains unmoving.

“Lak…” You squeak a warning to your husband, who only flutters his jaw as a response. Lo’ak and Neteyam are on edge, both concerned that their father has a grip on you, but even more so that Ralak has a grip on their father. They watch intently, trying to decipher if and when they need to intervene.

To everyone’s surprise, Jake exhales harshly through his nose and gently pulls away from you, but wrenches his wrists away from Ralak’s grasp. “Sorry, kid.” Jake spits an apology, readjusting his position to be directly in front of Ralak. “Care to explain how this happened so damn quick?”

“Dad!” You shout in disbelief, wedging yourself back in between the two.

“You know what? Don’t even answer that.” Jake snaps.

“You know you are really no one to talk! Where’s mom? Mom!” You go on the tips of your toes, leaning from side to side to look for her behind both the two male na’vi.

“‘xcuse me?” Jake purposely blocks your view by bobbing his head wherever yours goes. “I am still your father and you will not speak to me that—” Jake steps to the left to avoid Ralak and walk towards you. Ralak quickly adjusts himself to be the wall between you and your father, not allowing Jake the chance to even finish his sentence. Ralak is now looking down at Jake with a stoic expression, trying his best not to come off intimidating or challenging in any way.

All to no avail.

“You got a problem with me, boy?” Jake grumbles through his clenched jaw, getting in Ralaks face now.

“No. Only keeping my word, sir.” Ralak simply responds.

Jakes brought back to the very moment he made Ralak give him his word. His word that he’d never let a thing happen to his baby girl. The night you completed your iknimaya. The night he granted Ralak the permission to mate with you.

The night Ralak took your virginity.

Jake stalls for a few seconds, taken aback by Ralaks behaviour but a little impressed at the same time. Jake's expression softens upon realizing that Ralak is just protecting his mate—just as he does Neytiri, especially during her pregnancies.

But there’s no way in hell that Jake will be the first one to back down here.

“Mom!” You call for her once more, hoping that she’ll swoop in and save the day.

Neytiri rushes in, hand on her hip where she keeps her dagger sheathed—worry and concern etched into her features. She analyses the situation, taking in the scene of her own mate standing face to face with yours. She glances over at you, seeing the panic in your eyes and the hand on your stomach that you didn’t even know you had placed there. Slowly walking up to the two male na’vi, she places a firm hand on her mates chest, pushing him away from Ralak. “Ma’ Jake. What is happening here?”

Jake’s pressing his lips firmly together, not wanting to say the words. He shakes his head a little, huffing through his nostrils before placing a hand on his hip. His other hand extends in your direction, as if he were pointing out the obvious. Yet he remains choked up and speechless, his hand falling to his thigh as he gives up.

Finally, he mumbles, “Go on. Tell her.”

Neytiri looks back at you, eyes trailing back down to your hand that’s mindlessly resting on your stomach as she awaits for your answer. You feel the burn of her eyes, yanking away your hand when it becomes too much. Being the daughter of Mo’at, a tsahik, Neytiri needed nothing more than a quick glance and sniff to know what’s going on. “Is this true?”

“Yes, mom. It is true. I am.” You say in a defeated tone of voice. Ralak shifts himself, settling close beside you now rather than in front of you. He always had an even greater respect for your mother.

Neytiri’s expression only grows softer, until there's no trace of concern left in her face. Her smile is downturned but her eyes are bright, glistening with joy as she pulls you in for a warm embrace.

“It is a blessing from Eywa, my child.”

She pulls away from you, now looking over to Ralak. Neytiri lays a gentle hand on Ralaks upper bicep, “Seykxel sì nitram [congratulations] .” Ralak signs ‘I see you’ to his mother in law, exchanging a light hearted smile with her.

It was no secret that Neytiri longed to be a grandmother. Her days of children are over now, although she was expecting her eldest, Neteyam, to give her a grandchild first. But Ralak — Ralak is a remarkable, mighty warrior and hunter. The olo’eyktans right hand man, and undoubtedly the best fisherman in the village.

In fact, Ralak was one of the first people Neytiri took a liking to after she adjusted to the way of water. She always felt that he was a good suitor for her daughter.

“Are you kiddin’ me? It’s barely been two months!” Jake scoffs, shaking his head.

“And a day for us, Jake.” Neytiri tries her best to keep a calm, but firm voice. “They are a mated pair, they are having a family now. It is Eywa’s will.”

Jake quiets himself, reflecting on his harsh ways. He sighs, loudly. His eyes finally glance down to what everyone in the room has been looking at, now staring at your protective hand that mindlessly lay over your womb once again. He grits his teeth, averting his stare to the ground, eyeing the charred wood of the fire pit. His tongue clicks as he parts his lips, muttering—

“I know… I know, alright? She’s just—” He looks up at Neytiri, then Ralak, and then you. “She’s my babygirl.”

It’s his way of saying, ‘I just want to protect my family.’

“Dad. I am but—but I’m not your baby anymore. I’m not a kid.” You croak, finding it hard to hold eye contact with him. “Your grandson is the new baby of this family.”

Jake tries to fight the way his eyebrows scrunch together, it was like hearing about the news of his firstborn son all over again. He exhales slowly, nodding his head and extending his arms to hold you. His warmth envelopes you completely, leaving no room for any cold or harsh thoughts and feelings to linger.

“You keep ‘em safe.” Jake's chin presses into the crown of your head as he mutters the words to Ralak. Ralak had always had a hard time understanding Jake's native slang, but this he understood— loud and clear.

“Always.” Ralak answers firmly.

Your safety has been, is and will always be his number one priority.

Jake nods once, squeezing you a little tighter before letting go fully. “Seykxel sì nitram [congratulations], you two.”

“Thank you, dad.” You smile whilst Ralak bows his head. Neteyam and Lo’ak finally come over for their hugs, making a comment of their own as they release you from their grasps.

“I’m gonna teach him everything I know.” Lo’aks grin is unnerving and a little sinister, giving away the trouble that he’s already trying to get your son into.

“Please don’t.” You joke back with your brother, even though you’re being dead serious.

Neteyam jabs an elbow into his brother's rib cage, disciplining him for his mischief. “Agh — do not worry, Uncle TeTe will keep him in check.”

“Well, that’s a relief.” You say softly with a smile on your face, “‘Uncle TeTe’. I like that.”

“Hey, don’t forget about ‘Uncle Lo’Lo’.” Lo’ak chimes in.

“Eh. Doesn’t have the same ring to it, you know? What do you think, lak?” You jester, looking up at him to be met with a slight smirk.

“Very… hiyìk [strange; funny].” Ralaks smirk pulls at his lips a little more. “But, at least it is not ‘ak’-ak’.”

You swear you hear a little chuckle from everyone in the room. All except Lo’ak, who is staring at Ralak with a deadpan expression, arms crossed defensively over his chest. It feels like an eternity passes until Lo’ak finally booms with laughter, extending his arm out to Ralak, who gaily reciprocates and meets Lo’aks’ with a smack.

“I like this bodyguard of yours, y/n. He actually has a sense of humour.”

You let loose a scoff and roll your eyes, about ready to wrap this whole thing up and lie down in bed. It’s seemingly obvious, seeing that everyone is giving you space as they take note of your restless body language and bowed shoulders.

“If you are tired, you should rest.” Neytiri advises, just as you feel Ralaks hand tuck under your arm to support your weight. “Your body is working hard right now.”

“Yeah, mom. I think I need to lie down for a little.” You mumble, leaning into your mate a little more.

Your family practically ushers you out, encouraging you to get some rest and to get off your feet. Ralak walks close to you on the way home, keeping with the pace you set to the tee — only intervening with a hand to your hip when necessary.

And when you finally slump into bed, your eyelids flutter shut before Ralak can settle himself beside you.

——smut warning——

You rouse to Ralak drawing the curtain of your marui, blocking out the orange hue of the last eclipse. It dawns on you that you’ve slept out most of the day. You didn’t even realise you were so tired to begin with.

“You should have woken me earlier. I slept out the day.” You mumble, sitting up in bed and lightly kicking off the sheets.

Ralak turns around, surprised that you’re awake. He curses himself under his breath; he was hoping to keep you sleeping by drawing the curtains but instead he did the opposite.

“You needed to rest.” He says, making his way over to sit on the edge of the bed. “You have been more tired recently.”

“Yeah?” You snort, “…and what else have I been, sir know-it-all?”

Ralak chuckles, his eyes falling to your stomach. “…a little more hungry.”

You smile a little, remembering his fish wrap comment from earlier.

But then you witness his half-lidded eyes glaze over with something of… wanton. It takes a second to realise that they’re no longer staring at your belly. They’re staring at your tewng [loincloth]. More specifically, the mound imprinting it.

It’s the way your pussy is being so tightly squeezed by the thin cloth covering it. It’s the one thing that Ralak can’t help himself from indulging in admiring. Then his eyes snap away, unexpectedly meeting yours. The stare he’s giving you has your thighs rubbing together and your lower tummy tingling.

“…a little more tempting.” His voice is thick like honey, laced with lust and arousal.

In every way. From the way you fill out your top more, to your scent—you’re becoming more

irresistible the farther along you progress. Your heart beats a little harder between your ribs as you swallow the saliva pooling in your mouth. His lecherous gaze is fixed, blue eyes piercing into yours. It’s been too long since he’s been inside you that it aches.

But he’s been patient.

Especially since the day he figured out you were pregnant. With the way you smelt he found it hard to keep his distance at times but nonetheless, he did it. But the truth is that you haven’t had penetrative sex since your cycles synced.

To be clear, he took care of you just fine.

Tending to your needs whenever you initiated intimacy with him but he never took it further than his fingers and mouth. After seeing you so battered by his own hands he found it hard to put you in a position that could garner a similar result again.

For a while, he lost trust within himself.

That he no longer had the capacity for self control. Not only did he feel like he didn’t deserve it, but he never expected you to return the pleasure either. He had already taken you on his own terms. Repeatedly.

Ruthlessly.

So when you ate one to many of his payoang niktsyey [fish wraps] — when the new earthiness of your scent wafted past his nose — he knew. He knew it stuck. He knew your womb swelled with his child as each day passed. And the urge to protect only swelled with it.

He became even more gentle with you. Handling you with care when your skin softened and your hips became a little fuller. Ensuring he had excess when he cooked. Weaving an extra thick blanket for you to sleep with when he was off on duty with Tonowari.

It ached most when he’d come home just to see it kicked off onto the floor, with you on your stomach and your leg propped up just right. Your loincloth would always shift to the side, just enough to expose plump folds that innocently peek through the seam of the thin fabric. Fuck, it more than ached. It made him tender. Throbbing in his own tewng.

Just like now.

He dares not to break the steady, intent stare. Or else he may steal another glance at the softness between your thighs. But he can see in your eyes that you feel similarly. You always give him that look before doing something ‘troublesome’. You break eye contact first, your eyes now landing on his tewng.

Fuck.

Your eyes widen a little when you catch sight of the growing, thick bulge in his loincloth. Your gaze locks onto it, taking in every detail. From the thick stripes on his thighs to the way the twine of his loincloth is cutting into his v-lines. You can even see the outline of the crown of his cock.

His stomach rises and falls from his uneven breathing, and his abs pop out one by one as he leans further back—supporting his torso with his arms behind his back. He was never shy about his body, and he certainly isn’t now.

“Then, why do you resist me?” Though it's a question, it doesn’t sound like one when the words drip off your lips. Your voice is soft and feigned with innocence, yet you're shuffling to get on all fours to crawl over to him. You truthfully don’t care for the answer, you knew that it would be the same old song—‘he doesn’t want to hurt you’.

“I hurt you.” He says coldly—simply, glancing at the fading scar on your shoulder as you settle yourself on your knees beside him. He watches as your hand finds purchase on his knee, and slides up his thigh. “And now that you are with child… I—haah”. He’s cut short with a shaky breath and slight jolt when you cup his bulge with a bit of force. He looks down at your hand, dainty and slender, barely grasping half of what’s under his tewng.

“You worry about me too much.” You mumble, more focused on the speed at which his cock pulses at. “Yet still, never yourself.” You feel around, sliding your palm up and down its length, earning a rough exhale from Ralak in return. His lidded eyes dart back over to you, taking in the sight of you almost bent over his lap.

“That so?” His voice is thick and gruff.

“Mhm. ‘m always telling you that, aren’t I?” You hum softly, slowly moving your hand further down between his legs, firmly cupping his balls. They’re heavy in your hand, hot to the touch and—

Eywa.

“They’re swollen.” You whisper breathlessly, your glossy eyes meeting him with concern. They dart back to his crotch, your hand now fumbling with the twine of his tewng, hurriedly trying to unravel the knot to get the suffocating fabric off him.

“‘tis fine.” He winces as he spits out the words, watching you pinch him a little while struggling with the taut material.

Ignoring his words, you continue with your task, a bit more gently now. And when the knot comes undone, the twine falls off his hips and the tewng loosens with it. You tug it off him and see that they’re not only puffed up but also darker in colour. They’re firm and pulled close to his body, perfectly round and stripes well-defined.

Shamefully, it turns you on to see his balls so full.

Just the thought of them being so swollen with his seed that they’re aching and throbbing to empty themselves inside you—fuck, it’s making your teeth grit. You sit back into the dip of your feet and stare as your breathing becomes heavier. The more you look the more you realize that they’re pulling tighter and tighter towards his core. You look up at him, a little surprised. Your arousal is etched into your features and it’s more than obvious in your body language. You want to know how they’d feel in your mouth. How they’d taste.

If they’d even fit.

Without another passing second you bend over his lap, tail high in the air and legs spread—the overpowering scent of your arousal filling the air. You shove your face between his thighs, inhaling deeply his musky scent. You let out a breath of desire, one that sounds nothing short of pleasure and satisfaction. He smells too good. You can’t help yourself but give his firm balls a quick, kitten lick. The giant above you holds back his chuckle, finding your behaviour cute and honestly a little amusing. Feeling like the butt of a joke, you firmly grasp his length and tug it upwards, causing his balls to pull even tighter.

“Y/n.” He hisses your name, adjusting his legs to rid himself of the strained feeling. You wet your lips with a quick swipe of your tongue, and press your cheek against them. They’re hot—heating up a degree higher the more you tease him. Just as you pull your cheek away and manage to fit one of them into your mouth, his hand flies to the back of your head, balling your hair into his fist.

“You need not to—” your tail curls and the tip of it tickles against his chest, “—haah…do this.” Ralak huffs out a sigh of frustration it seems, looking down at you with somewhat of a predatory leer. You pop off with a pwah, catching your breath and turning your head.

You both share an intent stare with one another, one that feels more challenging than anything. He’s insistent that he’s undeserving of this, and you’re insistent that he must be taken care of. His grip loosens on your hair, until he lets you go completely.

“Shh…shh.” You shush him, eyes narrowing as they remain locked onto him. You slowly slide off the bed one leg at a time, sinking to your knees and settling yourself between his legs—now looking up at him with doe-eyes. The sight before you has your heart palpitating, just like the sight of your face so close to his cock has his jaw clenching.

Ralak quiets himself by locking his jaw, waiting patiently to see how this unfolds. It’s the first he’s seen you in this position, on your knees, between his. His cock twitches in excitement as clear, thick beads of precum begin to roll down its length. You swallow thickly at the sight, wrapping your dainty fingers around its girth to pull it close to your flushed lips.

Ralaks ears flutter and his eyelids grow heavy, his chest heaving as he shifts his weight to the palms of his hands—sitting up.

You open your mouth, strings of your saliva connecting your lips together. They break when you lower your head, taking the mushroomy, glistening head of his cock into your mouth. It’s mostly sweet, and a little salty too. The corners of your mouth sting as you accommodate his thickness, and you struggle to open your jaw wide enough to take him further into your mouth.

His head dips forward, eyes slamming shut when he feels your wet, warm tongue press against the underside of his cockhead. His hand flies to your head again, gently cupping the back of your skull as he lets out a strained breath.

Muffled noises vibrate through your nose as you swipe your tongue side to side against his head. It throbs against your tongue each time it hits that sensitive spot right down the middle. You suckle and swipe at the same time, using your hands to pump the rest of his length until you're grunting and snorting for air. You come up, gasping to fill your lungs.

His hand quickly slides from the back of your head to cup the swell of your cheek. His calloused thumb swipes at a bead of saliva rolling down your chin and pops it back into your mouth. “What are you doing, my tanhì?” He whispers the rhetorical question, ensuring his voice is calm and gentle. It sounds as if he’s given up—given in.

Without answering, you take him back into your mouth, locking your jaw once you open it as wide as you possibly can. You stick your tongue out as far as it’ll go and look up at him with eyes that begin to water. He looks down at you with a concerned expression, which morphs into one of astonishment. Your head goes lower and lower, taking inch after inch of his cock down your throat.

The tears in your eyes finally spill over, and your nose begins to burn. Half of his length is down your throat and you can barely breathe, but the more his face grimaces from how good you feel around him, the more of him you urge yourself to take. You hold onto his hips, using them as leverage to shove more of him down your throat.

“Hnng. Easy.” He groans roughly, pushing back against your shoves. “You are pregnaaah—mmn, you will make yourself sick, tanhì.”

Lifting your hand from his hip, you smack away his hand and take him full hilt, his cock hitting the back of your throat, making it bulge. You stop for a second, slowly inhaling through your nose to focus on not gagging. You try moving the back of your tongue, slowly stroking the rest of his length with your hand.

“Ah, shit.” He exhales shakily, his eyes rolling back before squeezing shut. He looks focused, like he’s concentrating on not cumming down your throat right then and there. Lips parted slightly, each breath he takes becomes louder and more raggedy. His thigh muscles tense up and his legs spread a little more, his hand finding its own way to the base of your kuru.

Chest swelling with pride, you begin to bob your head and coat his cock with your sticky spit. The more slippery it gets the harder he has to fight back his choked grunts. The grip he has on your kuru is tightening, as if he were preparing himself to pry you off his cock before he fills your throat.

Suddenly, his head sinks back and his jaw clenches—hard. You could feel it. The way his cock twitches. The way it’s heating up. The way it’s swelling in your mouth. Gurgled noises are escaping past his lips, and he purses them tightly together in attempts to keep himself quiet. His core flexes, and his hips start to stutter. His whole body jolts from how sensitive he’s getting, and finally he thrusts into your mouth, the pointed tip of his cock slamming into the back of your throat.

You silently gag as his hips stammer into you and he’s fucking your throat in frenzied little movements. He’s trying his hardest to be as gentle as he possibly can.m, but your throat is so soft and tight around him. You swallow around his cock as you try to take a breath and suddenly his erratic movements still.

“Y/n.” He lets loose a dying groan as his head slumps forward and his inebriated eyes struggle to open.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

His voice is gravelly and thick with restraint. You love to see him like this—hear him like this. You can’t help the wandering hand that’s making its way down to your soaked tewng. You try to touch yourself through the fabric, but have a hard time finding your clit with it covered like this. Exasperated, you shove your hand under the band of your loincloth and use all four fingers to rub sloppy circles into your puffy clit.

Ralak is too immersed into this to even take note of your desperation. He’s too desperate himself. And if you don’t stop now, he really won’t be able to help himself. He begins tugging you by your queue, trying to pry you away from him. With each hasty swipe of your fingers you suck a little harder, as if you were trying to match your pleasure with your mates’. He pulls at your kuru even harder but you’re unbudging, firmly holding the base of his cock as you relentlessly suckle on the most sensitive part of his tip.

“Stop.” He growls out of breath, finally looking down just to be tipped close to the edge by the sight below him. You look dumb and fucked out with his cock stuffed in your mouth, broken moans vibrating against his length as you franticly touch yourself.

Finally, he yanks you off him with one swift, hard tug, his cock slapping his stomach when it pops out of your mouth. You land on your behind, legs spreading wide open as your fingers work away at your now throbbing clit.

“Why? Can’t handle it?” You taunt him between pants and breathy, hoarse moans. Rather than answering he looks down at you with a cocked brow, kuru still in hand. Both of you stare at one another, shoulders and chests violently heaving as you both pant for air. He’s raw and pulsing, twitching from the heartbeat in the crown of his cock.

It's suspended mid air, jumping from how insanely aroused he’s left himself. Sticky beads of precum constantly roll down his shaft, one after the next and his balls are throbbing too. You get back on your knees and lunge for his cock again, tongue darting out to have another taste. He pulls you back, his hand still having a firm grasp of your kuru.

“Is this what you are like when you have been bred?” Ralak huffs, a little taken aback by your lewd behaviour. His gaze shifts to your pathetic attempt to make yourself cum, and a smirk spreads across his lips. “So desperate.” Your silence has his brows scrunching together and him yanking your head back so you’re looking up at him. A growl rumbles in his chest as he slowly rises to his feet, bringing you to your knees with him—his hung cock swaying directly in your face.

A smug little smile pulls at your lips when you realise you’re riling him up. You witness his jawbone flutter, his ears laying flat against his skull. He just wants to stuff his cock back down your throat to teach you a lesson. Instead he shoves your face into his crotch, your nose burying itself into the space between his cock and balls. He holds you there for a few seconds, just long enough that when he finally pulls you away you suck in a tiny gasp of air.

Ralak sighs a low, lengthy breath, forcing himself to regain his composure. He can’t understand how such a little thing can be so feisty. To act as if he couldn’t pin you down and take you without a scuffle. Truthfully it only makes him even harder. It only further proves that you are really the woman for him.

Slowly bringing you to your feet, he keeps your face pressed to his body so that your bottom lip drags along his torso as you make your way up. Your hand is still stuffed inside your tewng, slick fingers working hard to find their way back to your clit. With his free hand he grabs a hold of your hip, and steadily backs you up against the wall.

When your back hits the wall, a shaky breath is expelled from your lungs. He lets go of your kuru and rips your hand from your tewng. He then wedges his knee between your legs, putting pressure on your clit, making it flutter uncontrollably. His movements are quick but gentle, filled with purpose and desire. His eyes dart back and forth between yours as he searches them, his face just inches away from yours.

“Answer me, little one.” He whispers into your mouth.

“Yes.” Your answer is breathy and short.

Ralak heaves a heavy sigh.

“I am trying to be gentle…” He speaks the words through gritted teeth, using both hands on your hips to spin you around to face the wall. He lowers his head until his lips graze against the tip of your ear. “…but you make it so hard for me.” He growls, using the perfect amount of force to pin you against the wall with his body. His large hand swiftly moves to your lower stomach, cupping it to act as a protective barrier between the wall and your budding womb.

“No need to be. I can handle you just fine.” Your lips are pressed tight to your teeth, face flush against the smooth surface, making it hard for you to speak clearly. “Pregnant or not.”

Ralak chuckles.

“Is that right?” He speaks in an almost condescending tone, hurriedly tugging down your loincloth just enough to get access to your cunt. Without warning, he bends his knees a little to align your pelvises and then shoves his cock between your slickened, warm folds. “Oh tanhì, you are soaked.” His voice quiets down into a hushed whisper, “All from sucking my cock?”

A mewl splits your lips just as all the blood rushes to your face, staining it a bright pink. Your pussy clenches around nothingness only causing more of your slick to ooze on his cock. Your breath turns shaky, tail swishing wildly behind you. You can’t move even if you wanted to. He’s got you pinned down, quickly reminding you of his strength. And had it not been for his hand on your abdomen you would be completely plastered to the wall and taken on his terms.

“Tsk-tsk…Have you no shame?” Ralak tuts, holding you still. “Or must I give you a lesson on self-restraint?”

Despite his cockiness you can sense the urgency in his body language and in his voice. You can feel it in the way his hips stutter, as his cock slides back and forth between your pussy lips. His own desperation. The desire to be inside you. The need for release.

“Go on then, karyu.” You moan softly, causing his grip on you to loosen for a millisecond. Hearing that name brings a feeling of nostalgia. Of lust. You push back into him, your slippery hole trying to suck him inside with a few quick movements of your pelvis. “But I know you’ve been desperate… desperate to fuck your numeyu.”

“Oh, little one.” His chuckle is dark and depraved, his protective hand stiffening as if he were preparing it for what's to come. “Yet you are trying your hardest to take me inside you.” He licks your ear lobe to tip, whispering, “so cute.”

“Fnawe’tu [coward].” You mutter under your breath, steadying your feet to ground yourself.

Ralaks ears flicker and stand tall, then immediately lay flat to his head—his brow cocking in astonishment. His smirk grows wider, the heat in his chest spreading to his extremities. Now that pushes him over the edge.

“Say that again, numeyu.” He challenges you in a growl, angling his hips so his weeping cockhead prods at your entrance. He ensures not to let the buck of his hips win, keeping you empty and yearning.

“Haah… afraid to take what’s yours.” You purr, rising to the tips of your toes to try sink him inside you. “Fnawe’tu—”

Smack.

The sound of his swollen balls making contact with your puffy clit is almost as loud as your broken gasp. You smile open mouthed as he holds his position balls deep inside you, firmly pressing the tip of his cock into your cervix. He’s grinding his back teeth, digging his chin into your shoulder to quell the rumble of his chest from how tight you’re squeezing his cock.

You whine from the fullness of him stuffed inside your cunt, his unmoving hips sending a clear message of dominance. He’s hunched over you, body weight pinning you mercilessly against the wall, hand over your womb to keep your unborn safe—as promised. Still being gentle enough.

But you want him to lose it.

To fuck into you like he were in rut again. To use your pussy like a fucktoy to satiate his own greed and self pleasure. He deserves that much, for being such a competent and loving man to you. Yet it seems the only way to bring that out of him is to play dirty.

“Fnawe’tu [coward].” You repeat shakily.

Smack.

Another deep and hard thrust into your sloppy cunt. He lets loose the rumble in his chest this time, bearing his canines and putting most of his weight on you now. Lips pressed tightly together, your whimper is muffled and outright pathetic, pinched brows giving away the pleasure rippling through you. Still, he remains unmoving, undeniably making it clear who has the most leverage here. But that doesn’t really matter to you—you’re getting what you want, one way or another.

Right?

“Voìk si, little one [behave].” Ralak hisses, fighting the inner conflict within him.

“Haa—” Your laugh that follows is a little sinister, open mouthed and smug. Hands pressing into the wall you push off its surface, sinking him deeper inside you. “No.”

“Alright.” His voice is husky, thick with confidence and temperance.

With a rough, quick tug, his cock slips out of you with a squelch, hanging freely between his legs. Your slick mixed with his precum slowly dribbling off his tip and onto the floor between your pointed feet. You fall to the flat of your feet, panting and whining from the sudden emptiness.

“W-Wait.” You squeak, hastily getting back on the tips of your toes to stuff him inside you again. “Please.”

“What was that?” Ralak asks, voiced feigned with innocence. “A little louder.”

“Please.” You barely whisper, backing up on him.

“Come now, tanhì.” His hand slips from your hip to grip his cock. Giving it a few strokes he teases your cunt with his cockhead and you instinctively shimmy down. Hips snapping back to prevent you from taking him inside, he dips his head so his mouth is next to your ear and husks, “You can do better than that.”

“Please!” You moan loudly in desperation, reaching down to your knees to unfetter yourself from your tewng [loincloth].

“Please, what?” Ralak spits the last word through pursed lips, ready to give you exactly what you want if you just ask for it nicely.

“Please put it back inside.” You beg pathetically, finally getting the knot of your tewng undone. “Please, fuck me.”

“Ahh, there’s my good girl.” Ralak praises you with a grin, sinking his cock into your warmth at a leisurely pace. His breathing stutters for every inch that penetrates you. “Was that so hard?”

“Fuck.” You moan in relief, spreading your legs wider. He’s tamed you and he knows it. “No.”

“No…?” Ralak says it like a question, hissing when he bottoms out in your cunt.

“No, karyu.” You answer coyly, voice faltering from the pressure of his cockhead pushing into your cervix.

“Agh—haah” Ralak lets out a gruff grunt in response, his hips now snapping back and forth out of his control. He’s huffing and puffing next to your ear, pumping his cock in and out of you in a frenzy of need. Swollen balls repeatedly slapping against your clit, it’s almost impossible to hold back the gurgled noises escaping your throat.

“Fuck—so—fuckin’—deep—fuck.” The curses are punched out of you as he relentlessly smacks into you again and again.

“Lì’fyaz [language.]” Ralak chides in a growl, hand slipping down to pull back the hood of your clit—taut.

The continuous sting of your clit has your legs shaking and the way his cockhead is repeatedly stimulating your sweet spot has your eyes rolling back into your head. It’s almost too much all at once yet you yearn for more. Your cunt clamps down around him, especially when the tension becomes so tight you feel your stomach double-knot. Ralak hums when you tighten around him, only making him rut harder into you.

Pulling back, he glances down at you sucking him in, your tail curled tight to your back and his cock plunging in and out of your pussy. He can see just how tight you are as your pussy walls grip his girth mercilessly. And with the protective hand on your abdomen, he can feel each thrust against the palm of his hand. It makes his chest swell with pride—

You carry his child yet still take him so well.

“Oeÿa tsantu [my good girl]” Ralak slips into his native tongue, panting in an accent as thick as tree sap. “Oeÿa numeyutsyìp [my little student]”

Ralaks cock heats up inside you, heating your core along with it. It’s the same familiar sensation you feel before he provides you with your release. The feeling that keeps your eyes squeezed shut and breath shallow. He knows your close and slows his thrusts like he usually does, fucking you a little harder rather than faster, angling his pelvis so he’s right in your swelling g-spot.

Your hands fly behind you, grasping at whatever’s available as your orgasm washes through you. You gush all over your thighs, cum dribbling down your legs to your feet, some spattering on Ralak as he fucks and holds you through your high. It’s sudden and uncontrollable, leaving you sputtering out nonsense and your legs shaking violently beneath you.

“There it is. Good muntxate [wife].” Ralak huffs with a smirk, relishing in the quick, feverish flutter of your cunt on his cock. His voice is shaky from his uneven rhythm now that he can finally allow himself to finish too. “Love—hng—when you cum for me, you—ahh, haah—know that?”

He begins grinding to you, shoving you further into the wall as he focuses on his own climax. He uses his feet to kick your legs closed, and pulls out of you, stuffing himself between your thighs. He’s groaning and growling, hunched over you with bent knees and flushed, flattened ears. Skin slapping against skin, he humps at your thighs, thick cock sliding back and forth over your still pulsing clit.

His cockhead continuously pokes out between your folds, tip oozing and oozing with precum. Both his hands fly to your hips, gripping them with force as his thrusts become almost violent. You struggle to keep yourself standing as his hips smack into you repeatedly, your body jolting with each thrust. He gives you one last, harsh thrust, holding you still against him as you feel his cock throb wildly between your thighs. You look down to see his huge load shoot out in thick, white ropes. He’s grumbling behind you, giving your thighs an extra few uncontrollable thrusts as he peaks in his high.

Finally you fall to the flat of your feet, his arms instantly snaking around your waist to support your weight entirely.

“I told you no taunting, tanhì.” He’s referring to the time he opened up about his first rut, “Next time, you ask nicely. Tslam? [Understand?]” Ralak says breathlessly.

“Sran, oeÿa karyu. tslolam. [Yes, my teacher. I understand].” You blubber, fucked out and jaded.

——

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