#awow oc smut
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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.
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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.
——
#ralak#ralak smut#avatar smut#awow smut#metkayina#metkayina smut#metkayina oc#oc smut#avatar oc smut#awow oc smut#sully reader#sully reader x oc#oc x sully reader#oc x sully reader smut#na'vi smut#na'vi x reader#na'vi x sully reader#na'vi avatar#smut#metkayina x omaticaya#metkayina x omaticaya smut#metkayina x fem reader#ralak x y/n#ralak x reader#ralak x you#pregnancy smut#na'vi pregnancy#na'vi pregnant#ralak pregnant#avatar pregnancy
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Enjoy one of Nona’s slutty doodles✨
#ao3 fanfic#archive of our own#fanfiction#neteyam#neteyam fanfiction#neteyam sully#neteyam te suli tsyeyk'itan#neteyam x oc#avatar way of water#avatar#na’vi art#na’vi avatar#na’vi#na’vi oc#na’vi smut#avatar the way of water#awow#james cameron avatar#avatar 2#avatar oc#awow neteyam#neteyam fan
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Rude
~AGED UP Neteyam x Na’vi reader
~explicit content, soft dom Neteyam, sub reader, golden retriever boyfriend x black cat girlfriend
~Proofread?-no
~Summary~You hate Neteyam’s guts because you're afraid he’ll break your heart. He is a lovesick fool who refuses to give up on you.
~Note-Everything done is consensual!!!
***
Neteyam was the most annoying, agitating, boy you to ever met. You didn't like him, you made that very clear to anyone who had ears. His smile was gorgeous and you just wanted to smack it off, his laugh was better than any medication Mo’at could make. He was like your shadow, constantly following you around, but one thing you couldn't deny, he was your first love.
“Good morning!” Neteyam smiled ear to ear, tail wagging, and this lovesick smile wrote all over him. You rolled your eyes, “starting so early?” he nodded. This was the game you two played, Neteyam would follow you around like a lost puppy and you’d beg him to leave you alone. He always won.
Neteyam saw past this hard shell you put on. He knew you liked him, not to have a big ego but he saw the way you looked at him. You were just afraid to admit it. This was fun to him though, “what are we doing today, pretty girl “ you scoffed, “we?”
The boy nodded, “Neteyam do you have nothing else to do?” he pretended to think, “Not really,” you sighed, “you are infuriating,” you walked ahead of him as the boy trailed right behind you. “stop acting as if my presence is the most annoying thing.” he laughed as your eyebrows twitched, he loved seeing you mad.
“I wish I was acting,” you stopped and picked up a heavy box before giving it directly to him, “might as well help if your gonna be annoying.” you had a problem with commitment. You were afraid of putting your all into a boy because what if he breaks your heart?
A boy like Neteyam had heartbreaker written all over him, you believed he only wanted you for a while then he’d get bored. You were completely wrong, no matter how many times you turned him around, he was always there.
It was like he was a puppy, waiting for his command. This pissed you off more, Neteyam tried so hard with you, even if you were a bitch, flipped him off, and completely ignored him, he still liked you. What if you did day him? There was no way you could give him the love he deserves.
As you became lost in your thoughts, Neteyam dropped the box on the floor, “[Y/n]!” he said making a goofy face. “What?” You groaned as he just giggled, “I was wondering if after dinner maybe you and I-.” You cut him off.
“Busy, next time maybe,” you said shrugging and batting your eyes. Now he knew you weren't busy, you wanted to avoid him but he wouldn't let that happen. “Are you now? I didn't know you had friends?” you gasped loudly at his words before pushing him, “I have plenty of friends, you just don't see them.”
Neteyam laughed, “Someone you know of and someone you know is two different things,” you groaned, “get away from me,” his eyes lingered on you, “what? Now your gonna say I need to take a bath?”
He shook his head, “You remind me of this thing my father showed me, a cat,” you stopped walking before hitting the back of his head, “You think i’m ugly?”
“I didn't say that!” you nodded, “you said I remind you of a cat from your father's planet! You have clearly said it to insult me!” you started walking away, hurt. Neteyam was nice this newfound attitude, was not it.
“[Y/n], listen that's not what I meant!” you kept walking quickly trying to get away, “You have helped me, there is no reason you should be following me!” As your anger became louder, Neteyam's steps started quickening.
“I meant it as a compliment, you must see these kittens they are adorable!” he tried reaching out for your hand but you suddenly tripped into a hole. “[Y/N]!” The boy immediately went in right after you.
“AHHH,” fear covered you as all you saw was black, but before you hit the floor Neteyam’s hands stabilize you, “I’ve got you,” he whispered as he felt how fast your heartbeat was going.
“We're going to be in here for a while,” Neteyam said as he looked around, pitch black beside the little light from above which was the opening of the hole, “a while? Neteyam I have to head back!” you pushed him away and began looking for a way to exit.
“There is nowhere to leave, we must wait till someone notices we are missing,” you looked at the boy as if he had two heads, “We can't do that! What if they take hours!” the boy shrugged, “I don't know,” he gave a smile before sitting down.
You looked back up, attempting to climb, “save your energy, pretty girl,” you groaned before sitting across from him. He was the last person you’d wanna be stuck with.
You both sat in silence till you had enough, “Neteyam no one will come! We will die in here if we continue to sit here!” you stood up. “This is all your fault,” you muttered as you looked around, “my fault?” Neteyam stood up looking at you. You nodded, “How is any of this my fault? You weren't looking at where you were going.”
“That's because you were chasing me!” Neteyam laughed, “I was trying to get you to listen,” you scoffed, “maybe if you hadn't insulted me, I wouldn't have been upset!”
“You're always upset, it's like you have a stick up your ass!” you hit the boy, even though it didn't seem to hurt him. “Shut up, Neteyam.” You looked up, “I think if you helped me up I’ll be able to reach that branch and climb my way out.”
You clapped at your idea, “Yes, I can! Help me Neteyam!” you turned around making the gesture for him to grab your waist. When Neteyam just stood there you turned to look at him, “What's wrong? Are you not strong enough to help me up?” The boy smiled, “I am more than capable of picking you up, I just don't want to.”
You gasped, “You want to be stuck here, till the day we die?” he shook his head, “No, we will get out of here but it's a good way to trap you.” you backed up from the boy, “trap me?”
“Yes, you have been avoiding me,” you didn't think he’d noticed, “no, I haven't.” He nodded, “Yes, you have, and I think I know why.”
Your heart sank there was no way he knew you loved him, and wanted to spend the rest of your life with him. “So, you are not letting me leave,” he smiled, “yep.”
He went to sit down but you stopped him, “I thought we were friends,” you tried getting him to let you out, “we aren't friends, [Y/n],” your eyes widen. The man followed you everywhere, always spoke to you, and would literally move the heavens and the earth for you is saying you guys aren't even friends? Yeah, your heart is a little broken.
Even if you and Neteyam didn't have a romantic relationship, you always assumed you’d both still be friends, “we aren't?” Neteyam’s heart broke hearing your voice. Your eyes bore into him as you waited for him to continue talking.
“Because I can't be friends with the woman i’m in love with,” he came closer. “What?” your heart beat quickly, “I can't keep pretending that I think of you as just my friend, [Y/n] i’m in love with you I want to spend the rest of my life with you.” he grabbed your hand, “and I don't know why but you try and hide it that you love me too and I see right through it.”
He started backing you up against the wall, “When I look at you, I fall deeper and deeper in love with you. If you can look me in the eyes right now and tell me you don't like me, I’ll help you out of here and leave you alone.”
You kept your head down, your mind more focused on his hand movement. His hand sat nicely on your thigh, “I love you,” you whispered as you felt his hand go higher, “fuck, [Y/n],” his hand found your clit and began rubbing, “so wet, have you been hiding this?”
Your hands clung to his shoulders as he moved his fingers faster. “Who knew you were such a slut,” moans fell from your mouth. He quickened his pace, coming closer to your face, “You don't know how long I’ve wanted to see you like this,” he smiled as he watch you fight moans.
“Everyone told me to leave you alone but I knew,” as his pace quickened with his other hand he forced you to look at him, “but I knew you were just waiting for me, waiting till the day I’d be able to breed you.”
“Teyem,” you grabbed his hand trying to slow his pace, “Aw is it too much?” you nodded, “too bad, I enjoy the faces you are making a little too much.”
Sensitivity rang through your entire body as you felt yourself near, “i’m gonna,” Neteyam’s smile deepened as he watched you. You came hard, letting all your moans out. You tried catching your breath, but you felt Neteyam’s hand rubbing your entrance, “Neteyam,” was all you were able to get out before you felt his fingers dig right back into you.
Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as Neteyam kissed your neck. “Your gonna come again for me, huh?” you shook your head, “N-no, I can't,” he smiled, “Yes, you can!” he sped up as he fekts your walls contract.
“Can't wait to see you bounce on my dick,” your legs began to shake as you felt yourself nearing, ‘Mine, all mine.” You nodded, “Yours,” you came at the exact moment, slumping into Neteyam’s arms. “I meant what I said, [Y/n],” you looked at him, “you're mine, and later tonight I’ll be sure everyone knows that,” you just looked at him, “Now, let's get out of here,” you nodded as you followed the boy's direction.
****
Miss me? I’m so sorry for being inactive, i’ve been so tired and had no time to write but thank you guys for the love! it warms my little heart to know you all love the stories i write! Next weekend it’s you part 2 will cone out! hope you guys enjoy this story! :)
#avatar way of water#neteyam#avatar loak#avatar#jake sully#neteyam x y/n#avatar neytiri#avatar tuk#neytiri#neteyam x reader#neteyam x oc#awow neteyam#neteyam sully#neteyam oneshot#avatar neteyam#neteyam x omaticaya!reader#neteyam smut#dark neteyam
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Courting Spider
Pairing: Spider x Na'vi Male OC
Masterlist AO3
Summary: It's time that someone takes care of Spider for once. Zhali is up for the task.
Warnings: aged up Spider/Sully kids, explicit, MDNI, male x male, size difference, Na'vi x human pairing, oral, insecurities, angst, trauma, injury, blood, perfectionism, Spider just needs to be loved, etc.
A/N: Wow, this took a while but it is finally here. Not too confident with some of the writing style for ths one but hopefully it still makes sense.
“What about the back panel?”
“Useless.” Zhali quickly interjects, weaving the soft fabric together with practiced precision. Lo’ak huffs slightly, titling his head as he watches the male work on the small piece of clothing.
“He’s not going to wear it with his ass out, brother.”
Zhali rolls his eyes and takes a deep breath. He will never understand the Sky Demon’s obsession with modesty. Clothing should allow one to move freely and if it shifts from one way to the other, so what? Who would truly notice, anyways?
Well, he supposes, were it Spider he himself would notice.
And suddenly all that Zhali can think about is getting a glimpse of the little Tawtute’s bum, just another peek at that beautifully soft and squishing form of his. As tempting as the idea is, however, it does have him editing his original claim. If he has interest in seeing that sculpted ass, surely other Na’vi or even Sky Demons could have the same intentions.
He decides to weave together a back panel after all. Besides, once the small Sky Demon has been courted and agrees to mate with him, it may be more rewarding to have that area of his mate revealed to his eyes only. That thought has the slightest curve of a smile lacing his lips.
Lo’ak, as always, is one to notice the shift in demeanor, but he pays the other male no mind. After all, there would have been no chance of executing this courting properly without Lo’ak’s insights. Zhali thanks the Great Mother that he has close enough ties with someone Spider considers his best friend. Otherwise, how else would he know how to make a loincloth for the boy in the first place? Or not to leave dead kills at the outpost’s front entrance as a courting gift?
Lo’ak’s information is irreplaceable. It’s hard enough to wrap his mind around the different customs and concerns of a small tawtute, let alone court one without any insight in the first place.
Although it may seem unconventional to some Na’vi, opinions that he has heard personally from some friends and family, Zhali knows that there is no one else for him besides Spider.
He can still recall the spark of interest that had been there during their adolescence, watching the small boy with golden hair saunter across the forest confidently. He had moved with a grace and agility that Zhali had never witnessed from a Tawtute. Back then, his small crush was poorly nourished as his parents tried their hardest to keep him from spending too much time around Sky Demons. Searching to become a warrior and clan member that would make his parents proud, Zhali had refrained from stepping out of bounds.
There were small moments he had caught with the so-called monkey boy, but it was always in the presence of others.
The night of Spider’s capture had been a core memory for Zhali. He recalls it as the night he truly began his path to adulthood. Regret and dread had laced his gut as he realized his own cowardice had broken any real chance at connecting with the other male. It shifted his perspective, pushing him forward until he had made himself a promise that night.
Never again would he let criticism and judgment keep him from following his heart’s desires.
It was only the direct command and even surveillance from the new Olo’eyktan that had kept him from storming Hell’s gate as a one man army.
Those years apart had been painful, but they had shaped him into the man he is today, the man he needed to become. There had been slight relief that came from hearing of Spider reuniting with the Sully family across the sea. However, he could never erase the sting of missed opportunity.
Following the footsteps of his father and other warriors, Zhali had channeled this pressing emotion into his training. The sun would barely be upon the horizon before Zhali began his daily grind. He had excelled in every aspect that a young warrior could, spending extra hours training alone with only the glowing light of eclipse for aiding sight. When he had pushed himself in every aspect of hunting, fighting, and gathering possible he had moved on to homemaking skills.
Now, sitting here with only a few months of weaving underneath his fingertips, he’s proud to find the garment an attractive item thus far. A surprising fact considering how his discipline and attention has slipped upon the Sully family’s return. Or rather, Spider’s return.
Seeing the small tawtute advance from behind the Sully family, hair somehow turned a lighter shade of gold and arm adorned with shelled jewelry, Zhali had felt like a child once more. The Great Mother had been kind to him, advancing his form into that of a true muscled warrior and adorning him with skills that were far beyond anything the could’ve dreamed about at fifteen, but none of that seemed to matter when faced with Spider once more. His stomach had tightened into a million different knots, tail swinging and ears flickering desperately as he took in the beautiful male before him.
Although taken aback and slightly nervous, something he would never admit, Zhali had expressed these emotions in the best way he knew how; hard work. The family had only been home for little more than a moon cycle but the male’s courting plans were already underway. His consultation with Lo’ak had informed him that the beautiful tawtute was in fact still unmated. He figured that the Metkayina Na’vi knew nothing of real value placed in their laps if they had somehow managed to miss courting such an exquisite creature.
Nevertheless, he is grateful for their insolence.
The yearnings of his heart have never ceased and Zhali would have his soul taken up to Eywa before he’d let this chance slip away again.
“You’re sure about this color?” He murmurs, concentrating on the intricate trim to lace the sides. Next to him Lo’ak lounges along the marui floor with one leg propped as he bites into the delicious fruit he missed oh so much. Golden eyes flicker over to the intricate pattern of green material, different shades popping out in precise patterns.
“Well he did complain about there not being enough green on Awalatuu.”
“I asked you what his favorite color was.” Zhali huffs out, finally letting the unfinished garment rest on his lap. Lo’ak hardly flinches under the glare he receives, simply shrugging his shoulders before continuing to eat.
“I know. Figure it must be green if he complained about its absence so much.”
It’s not fair to bite back at the hand that feeds him. Zhali knows this. He repeats it in his head over and over again. If there is one thing that he has learned about Spider it’s that no one treats the poor boy the way he deserves. Lo’ak and Kiri are the closest things that the small human has to friends, but even they have other parts of their lives that pull their attention away from him. There are always other obligations and personal problems that come first before Spider and to Zhali’s dismay, the boy accepts it.
Being left in the shadows is something that has become natural to Spider in his life. The Sully family takes him in, but never with the attitude of treating him like their very own. The scientists at the lab have watched over him since he was a child but not one of them was truly a parent. They too, have their own worries and concerns. Most are too focused on their own research and work to really prioritize raising a child.
That familiar lingering of guilt resurfaces when Zhali remembers that he too let Spider remain hostage with those Demons for months on end, not one rescue party sent after him.
It’s a fact that haunts him to this day, but he vows to leave all those mistakes behind. Spider will be safe and taken care of in his arms, by his side and treated with the love and respect that he deserves. For the first time in the boy’s life, he will know what it means to be someone’s first priority.
Spider can still feel Neteyam’s curious glances thrown his way as they walk silently back to the human outpost. With the small bundle of fine fabric carefully clasped in his hands, it feels like a small eternity before the human boy can comprehend the turn of events. Upon his return to the Omatikaya clan Spider had assumed that most outside of a few humans from the lab outpost would remember him, let alone receive a courting gift from one of the clan’s finest Na’vi males.
Is that what this is? A courting gift?
Although, Zhali had used all the proper words one would upon extending a courting gift and beaming at Spider’s acceptance, it’s still difficult to be one hundred percent certain that is what had occurred. The ogling he had done over the garment in front Zhali had been taken in with a smile bursting of pride that seared into Spider’s countenance. The blush that erupted over his tan skin wasn’t even comprehensible until the heat was enough to have him sweating underneath the glass of his mask.
Looking back, Spiders knows that his gratitude had been little more a stumbling of thank you’s and rambled thoughts that hardly finished into full sentences. It didn’t seem to matter, however, as Zhali had left the pair with a stride that made him look as if he was walking on clouds. Truthfully, Spider often makes that comparison when watching the male prance along the forest with ease. He wouldn’t necessarily call it ogling….just keen observations that he can’t help but make.
Neteyam had been almost entirely silent during the exchange and when Zhali had broken away, his only comment had been something about the smooth fabric being made of rare materials only present in the Hallelujah mountains. Spider had done nothing more than nod in response. Now, meeting up with Lo’ak once more, Neteyam jumps in to relay the scene to his younger brother. Lo’ak simply smirks and shoots Spider a wink.
It punches through his blood and once again Spider finds sweat gathering at the edges of his mask. He knows his friend better than he would like to at times, so he knows that looks like that always come with a reason from Lo’ak. He seems neither surprised nor reluctant to let that signature smirk show.
Perhaps it isn’t in his head after all.
A courting gift for him.
Made specifically for him.
It’s disheartening when Spider realizes that he never expected to receive one of these.
He makes an excuse about needing rest in order to get away from the Sully brothers as soon as possible. Once back inside the common area of the outpost, he flings the sweat mask off of his face and to the side carelessly.
“Spider.” Norm sighs from his work station. No words are needed to show that he does not approve of the boy’s disregard of the equipment.
“Busy.” Spider rushes out before practically sprinting to his room. That is if it can be called a room. It’s a corner of the outpost that Spider had managed to claim for himself with old drapes hung up messily for privacy and a hammock strung up that he had made himself. His greatest and most rare possession however was a floor length mirror. Spider had gone through Hell and back in order to get it here. And by Hell, he meant literal Hell’s Gate where the RDA had left their fancy gear behind the first time.
He rushes to throw the bag of fruit to the side and shuffles himself over onto the bed. The soft cloth is unfolded as if he is about to handle the rarest of Pandora’s diamonds and to Spider it might as well be. Perhaps even more valuable considering the rarity.
The fabric slipped along his fingers like the sway of a rushing river, a smooth effortless motion. His own grimy hands caked with dirt and a hint of blood from rough housing with Neteyam look horrifying next to the carefully crafted garment. In fact, it’s enough to have Spider setting the piece to the side and rushing to the bathroom so he can wash his hands. It would be a shame to ruin the loincloth so quickly simply because of his bad hygiene.
Stomping past Norm and the other lounging scientists he tries to ignore him.
“Kid, what have I told you about leaving your mask on the ground?” Norm huffs but Spider is already closing the door to the cramped bathroom.
He may have been a teenager when he was captured by the RDA but now has come into full adulthood. Something Norm seems to have a hard time understanding. Spider doesn’t care how much water he hogs in order to get every speck of dirt and grime from his hands. He only leaves the cramped bathroom when his skin is scrubbed raw and red.
Leaning back against the woven hammock he allows himself the proper time to just admire the details of his new gift. It’s a beautiful emerald green with precise stitching that works to outline patterns of leaves and greenery. Under the harsh light of the outpost bulbs, the boy admires the way the thread glimmers with the shift of light. He thanks Eywa that it has a back panel. It may be something he is used to seeing with Na’vi but Spider can not imagine having his own ass hanging out of his loincloth, especially without a tail for it to wrap around.
Once he finally wrangles up the courage to try on the loincloth he is amazed to see how perfectly it fits. The fabric is like silk against his rough skin. Or at least what he remembers silk to feel like from that one time another scientist let him touch her silk pillowcase. The band is woven of various colored threads and twine that come together to create criss cross patterns. His fingers brush them softly in a silent reverence.
Spider looks at the mirror and allows himself to drink in the sight. Most days, the boy uses the mirror to simply swat at his dreadlock hair or repaint the blue stripes on his skin, but never can he remember a time that he uses it to admire himself. To look at his appearance head on and feel something more than indifference or longing to be a version of himself that is blue and a few feet taller.
Being a human is something that Spider has learned to make peace with, but that doesn’t mean he particularly likes the look of himself. The blue stripes help slightly to cover the extra squish of his body that is normally nonexistent across Na’vi stomachs. With the beautiful garment now fitted perfectly to his hips, Spider notices for the first time how good a color besides blue looks on him.
The heap of leather that is his usual loincloth seems like nothing more than a discarded washcloth now. Jake had been the one to show him how to weather the material and fashion it into clothing but from there the job had been his own to update the garment in stride with his growth spurts.
The loincloth is so clean and pristine in comparison to the rest of Spider’s appearance that for a moment he considers putting it away for safekeeping. What would happen if he tore a hole in it or got dirt rubbed into the careful stitching? It’s too beautiful to take the risk.
However, when his fingers start to undo the carefully tied knots at the sides, he catches another glance of himself in the mirror and he hesitates. It looks so much better than before. He looks so much better than before. Maybe it has nothing to do with the loincloth’s quality at all. Perhaps it’s the careful thought and effort put into such an extraordinary gift. A thought for him. Just him and only him.
One simple reminder that someone thinks he is worthy of nice things.
Spider allows himself the privilege of wearing this reminder throughout the day.
Zhali does not have many opportunities to spend time with Spider, especially without the company of others. Most nights he only gets to share a few sentence exchanges with the boy before either him or Spider is pulled away by their responsibilities or nagging friends. It doesn’t kill his spirits, however, not when he notices how beautiful the tawtute looks wearing his courting gift. Pride swells to the size of a balloon in his chest upon seeing how perfect the fit is. This feeling only inflates to new bounds when he sees Spider wear the garment every day without fail.
Having been entrusted with leading one of the hunting parties on a daily basis, Zhali finds himself daydreaming about the male between patrols and petting down the direhorse. The other Na’vi in the crew do not fail to notice his shift in demeanor. Although some of them spread rumors that it has to do with Zhali’s unbridled affection for a certain golden haired tawtute, no one goes out of their way too complain. Controversial or not, Zhali is more forgiving of their mistakes when he is in high spirits. It matters not that it comes from a small Sky Demon.
Lo’ak continues to assist Zhali in preparing another gift for Spider. This time they settle on weaving together a simple but stunning armband. Surprisingly this requires more experience and skill than the loincloth but he has never been one to back away from the struggle that comes from picking up a new trade. Zhali’s fingers work tirelessly as Lo’ak chatters on about the Metkayina clan and what adventures he missed.
Later that night Zhali listens to the encroaching thunder that rumbles in the distance. Even his direhorse hesitates in his stride but he urges him forward. There is less than an hour left of his patrol and then he will return to his carefully crafted hut to get some much needed rest. However, now the sound of thunder and lightning is becoming more pressing and the male becomes less and less sure of how soon that sleep will come.
It comes as no surprise when the first drops of rain quickly picks up into a full downpour. Lo’ak grumbles next to him, but Zhali ignores the other male’s mumbled curses and directs them to split up so more ground can be covered. They might as well check up on the family huts and make sure everyone has the sufficient coverings and supplies needed for the storm.
It’s when he’s wading through the heavy greenery and wiping water from his eyes that Zhali catches sight of something peculiar. He follows the movement of bushes slowly, urging the direhorse to tread carefully. With the blanket of falling rain it’s difficult to identify the small creature wading through the greenery. Judging by the amount of rustle it creates, Zhali concludes that the creature must be either injured or panicking in the storm. He urges the horse to prowl closer as the rain pelts against his back mercilessly.
It becomes near impossible to see anything in the thick greenery but there is a series of snapping branches and he watches as the beast comes tumbling down the hill. It rolls and crashes along the greenery before finally hitting the bottom of a tree trunk with a grunt. Through the thick sheet of rain, Zhali finally catches a glimpse of golden hair flying in the wind.
Spider!
He’s off the direhorse within a heartbeat and racking through the thick leaves moments later. Spider is sprawled out on the muddy ground, limbs stretched in every direction. The boy blinks, seemingly trying to comprehend the turn of events.
“Spider.” Unintentionally Zhali words come out as a hiss. The Na’vi searches over the boy’s body frantically to see if there are any fatal wounds. With limited light it’s difficult to fully see where the sources of blood are so he shifts to use his fingertips to feel for wounds. Spider simply groans and stares up at him through slitted eyes as Zhali weaves through his hair in search of a head injury. He prays to the Great Mother that he won’t find one.
The Sky Demon’s small body is covered in mud and littered with a plethora of bruises and bleeding scrapes. Luckily, none of these injuries appear to be more serious than the deeper cut over his shoulder. It will require bandaging and a series of healing ointments to prevent infection. Zhali is already running through the list of healing procedures he plans to execute on the boy when Spider’s voice finally breaks him out of the trance.
“Hey.” Spider speaks in a gravelly hushed tone. “I-I’m ok.” He goes to sit up but a large blue hand covering half of his chest, gently pushes him back down. “Sorry I just lost my grip….got a little disoriented but…yeah sorry.”
“You’re bleeding.” Zhali says bluntly.
Spider looks down to see a smear of red painting his shoulder. Zhali watches his reaction with perked ears and pointed tail on alert but Spider simply knits his brows together and shrugs. However, the small being is unable to hide the grimace that flashes across his features. It has become a real effort on Zhali’s part to learn the ways of reading human expression, especially ones covered by those ridiculous masks. It can be incredibly frustrating trying to read one’s reaction without a flickering tail or ears to give away the boy’s state.
“Oh shit, yeah, I guess I am. It’s ok…the outpost has a first aid kit so…”
It’s then Zhali’s turn to scrunch his features in confusion.
A first aid kit? Is that another one of those Sky Demon inventions those scientists are so fond of? Once Zhali had snuck down with Lo’ak and Neteyam when they were teens to the outpost and he had caught sight of things beyond his wildest imagination…or rather wildest horrors. He had watched as giant trunk shaped contraption fold around a human before sucking him into the wall. Lo’ak and Neteyam had later explained that these were the devices used by the Avatars to dream walk. Zhali could never erase how similar it had looked to the coffins that Jake had once described, the constricting box made to bury dead bodies.
Would they put Spider in there too? Or something else? Perhaps this first aid kit would be even worse.
No. He would not be returning to the outpost for those horrors. Zhali is more than capable of patching up the injuries and giving Spider the care he truly deserves.
“No need, come. I will take you home.” Zhali says while carefully helping the boy to finally sit up. Spider’s lips purse for a moment as if he is about to say something but he must have read that wrong because it disappears just as quickly as it came and the small tawtute remains silent.
It is, however, when Zhali easily lifts the male into his arms that Spider strings together a nervous onslaught of objections.
“Oh woah, hey it’s ok. I can walk. I-I’m not really that hurt-”
Lightning strikes across the night sky. Thunder is quick to follow and by the sounds of deep rumbling, Zhali is confident that the storm is only about to get worse. Spider squeaks when he is easily lifted onto the direhorse without response. The other male makes quick work of sliding in behind him and reconnecting tsaheylu before the direhorse becomes too freaked out by the tawtute’s presence. It’s almost second nature to slip his forearms securely around Spider’s waist, keeping him safely atop the creature.
He can feel the boy shiver in his embrace, but it’s difficult to tell whether it is from his touch or the relentless onslaught of rain.
“Thanks.” Spider’s mumble barely rings audible over the storm’s fury. The small sound still manages to bring a smile to Zhali’s face as he nods back in recognition and they begin their journey back towards the village.
Despite the fact that Spider is conscious and not nearly as injured as he could’ve been, he is anxious to get the human to the healer’s tent as soon as possible. This urgency only increases when he can physically feel the boy’s body shaking like a leaf in the wind. His arm tightens around the small male, hoping to let some of his own natural body heat transfer over to him. It’s disconcerting to see how easily a little tawtute can be affected by the elements. It serves as another reminder of how fragile the pretty boy truly is. It’s easy to forget at times when Spider is swinging from branches like a monkey, but now all he can see in his mind’s eyes is the replay of his small body tumbling down the steep decline helplessly.
It’s then that Zhalie remembers the cloak he has packed away by the saddle. He manages to wrap the thick fabric around both of them. It covers Spider completely and to the male’s delight he finds that the human curls up against his warm chest. He’s satisfied to find that this solution keeps the pelting rain from attacking Spider any further.
Zhali is made for these types of elements but he can only imagine how Spider’s small fragile body could be reacting to such harsh conditions. He makes a mental note to learn more about human anatomy in the coming days. Perhaps Lo’ak could arrange some sort of meeting with one of the remaining medical Sky Demons at the outpost. He hates the smell of chemicals and sterilized metal there but it would be preferable to the real feeling of inadequacy he has now.
To his horror Zhali finds that the pathway to Tshaik’s tents has already eroded into a rushing stream and the tent itself is completely abandoned. He checks in with the Olo’eyktan over the throat comm and comes to find that Mo’at has fled to higher ground with the injured and sick to wait out the storm. With Spider barely conscious in his curled up position against him, Zhali decides that the only logical course of action is to bring the boy back to his kelku for the night.
No matter, there are sure to be enough supplies at his home to patch Spider up and take care of him before the condition gets worse.
Or at least, that is what he mentally assures himself over and over again until they reach the trunk of his kelku.
Zhali is forced to let Spider crawl up the trunk himself as the tawtute is less than willing to let himself be carried again. He considers overriding this decision but he figures it’s already lucky enough that the blonde hasn’t insisted on being dropped off at the outpost instead. He takes the tender mercy in stride and makes sure to be below the boy in case he manage to slip, constantly ready to catch him if needs be.
Zhali is in full action mode as he goes about efficiently securing the waterproof drapes. Spider hangs back, awkwardly standing in the middle of the room. Once the task is finished he turns around to find the boy’s arms wrapped around himself, seemingly curling up in on himself as trembles still wrack his body. It is such stark contrast to the usual confident and sassy demeanor that Spider upholds. Whether it is from the cold or the slightly traumatic situation, Zhali vows to coax the boy into being at ease as soon as possible.
“I-it’s nice.” Spider manages to mumble out before audibly clearing his throat. Those hazel eyes roam over the darkened room as Zhali makes quick work of building a small fire and setting a pot of water over to warm. His own eyes stray from the fire to recall what state his kelku has been left in. Luckily, he has always had a knack for organization and creating a cozy environment in his home. Still, there is no saying what a Sky Person considers to be cozy when it comes to decor. He prays to Eywa that Spider’s preferences are not aligned with that of the suffocating and hard steel in the human outpost.
“Thank you.”
Spider tries to hide the wince that graces his features when he rolls his shoulder, but even in the dim glow of a fire, Zhali can clearly see the distress.
“Come. You are bleeding.” He motions Spider forward and luckily the boy does not protest.
Spider does, however, hesitate as those hazel eyes scan over the empty span thoughtfully. Zhali starts to think something is wrong but then it dawns on him. The boy’s body is speckled with mud and blood. Spider seems all too aware of this as he carefully squats over the clean woven floor.
Of course this must be just Spider’s way of trying to be a polite guest while in his home, but it frustrates Zhali more than he expects. The beautiful human squats over the woven material as if he is unworthy to touch it. This behavior extends to all aspects of their encounter in the space as Spider is more than cautious to let himself enjoy any of the comforting ambience that Zhali has created in the space. He creeps into the area like an intruder, waiting to be shooed away.
And it breaks Zhali’s heart. It shatters him to pieces to think that Spider would ever act in such a way when his presence alone is something to be celebrated. It’s borderline disappointing to think that Zhali has spent all this time over the past few weeks slowly preparing his kelku to become a welcoming place that Spider would be enticed to call his own someday, just for the boy to shy away from associating with it.
“Sit.” Zhali puts a little more intensity behind the words than intended. He mentally curses at himself when Spider flinches in response but the human is already setting himself down gently.
“The bleeding isn’t that bad.” Spider claims, but how would he know when the injury stretches across his right shoulder blade?
Zhali goes to see for himself, reaching his enormously large hands towards the small creature, but then he pauses.
“May I check?”
He idly notices that Spider’s breathing is no longer fogging up the glass of his mask? Has he stopped breathing? Was there something wrong with it? Oh Eywa, how does one fix that little thing if there is?
“Yeah.”
The response is more of a puff of air than real words. Zhali allows himself to breathe now.
Settling behind Spider feels natural and oddly comforting. He enjoys the way his body is haunched over the small blonde, as if he could create a Na’vi shield over the boy if any danger were to arise. The idea strokes his male pride for a moment until he remembers that he failed to shield Spider earlier. When…when he…
“How did this happen?”
“Well it was….you see….” Spider struggles before finally sagging with a sigh. “I fell.” Defeat is apparent in his tone.
Zhali can not decide if he finds this explanation better or worse than the images he had conjured up. The thought of thanator claws scraping at the small being was terrifying, but then again, is it not more concerning to see that a simple fall is all it takes to injure him? This beautiful tawtute truly is so fragile. A simple misstep is all it would take to put him in danger.
Spider appears to be thinking the same thing, but if the red cheeks and deep frown are anything to go by, it’s embarrassment rather than fear that rises to the surface.
“Tawtute, this cut is deep. From how high did you tumble?” He tries his best to clean the cut with the rag as gently as possible, monitoring every flinch and shudder that ripples through Spider.
“My bow got stuck up in the canopy. Thought I could get it down.”
“It is still there?”
Spider nods.
“We will get it in the morning.” Zhali concludes smoothly as he dips the soft cloth back into the now warmed water. He checks it against his own skin first. The male may not know much about human anatomy but it’s clear that their response to the elements is more dramatic than his own. He would hate to accidentally expose the boy to any more harsh temperatures for the night. Once it is sufficiently clear that the rag is at a soothingly warm degree, he begins to glide it over Spider’s back.
“Thanks I uh…I was kind of clumsy I guess. You don’t have to come with me in the morning though, I’m sure I can manage a bit better this time.” Spider rambles.
“I will not if you wish not for my company.”
“No no, it’s not that.” Zhali peeks around the boy’s shoulder easily, braids swinging down as he openly observes the male’s expression. Spider’s turn a brighter shade of pink. Zhali finds he quite likes that shade. “Of course I would love for you to come. I just uh don’t want to make you go out of your way for me.”
“You are never out of the way, Spider.” He sighs, tail curling in irritation. He shouldn’t need to make that clear, especially after efforts he has started towards his courtship. “You are the way.”
He surveys the boy’s expression, but without twitching ears and a moving tail to give him away, it feels impossible to sense the shift in emotion there. He slowly retreats, not wanting to scare him off any more with the staring, but he lingers just long enough to see Spider catch his bottom lip between those blunt teeth. It’s a cute habit that Zhali has noticed from him, but one that he is still trying to understand fully.
It’s obvious what his own response to the action is as his tewng grows uncomfortable, but that does little to help him decode Spider. Not to mention it makes him feel like an untrained teenager all over again, drooling at just about anything.
“Spider.”
He feels the boy straighten underneath his hands.
“Yeah?”
“What is your favorite color?”
“What?”
Zhali is pleased to find that the area around the wound is finally clean and ready for bandaging.
“Color. What is your favorite color?” He repeats. Spider only flinches slightly as he begins to lay the leaves covered in ointment over the small wound. He has to rip them into small pieces a few times so they don’t cover the whole expanse of Spider’s back. Doing so, however, draws his attention to the rest of the boy’s muddied and artificially stripped skin. Long fingers itch to reach for the warm rag again.
“I um…I don’t know. Never really thought about it before.”
Zhali’s eyebrows knit together. He is soon regretting his decision to sit behind the tawtute where he can’t even depend on the minor fluctuations of his small facial expressions for context. His tail thumps against the woven floor incidentally, but at least Spider can’t see that. When the urge becomes too strong, Zhali hesitantly starts running the warm cloth over the rest of Spider’s back.
“What do you say when people ask?” He takes Spider’s lack of flinching as a token of permission, scrubbing the dirt away from his tan skin with the gentlest touch he can muster. It’s interesting to see the way his skin turns a light pink after only a few strokes of the warm rag. It appears that Sky People’s skin is extremely sensitive and expressive to every substance it comes in contact with. He is pleased however to see that Spider’s muscles have begun to relax underneath each stroke and the shaking of his body has puttered out to a small vibration.
“Well I don’t think anyone has ever asked me before to be honest.” Spider tries to slip in a small laugh but it’s strained. Those tiny four fingered hands come to gather his dreads and push them to the side before fondling them absently.
Of course he knows that Lo’ak didn’t know the boy’s favorite color but for no one to ask? Never? By Eywa, what do the strange scientists at the lab that supposedly raised this male talk to him about? The negligence is infuriating and yet Zhali knows he shouldn’t be surprised. From the interactions he has seen between them, Norm acts more like a close friend than anything resembling a parental figure.
Spider pauses, head tilted as he ponders the question.
“I suppose red is not a bad one. Like the red from sunsets.”
Zhali’s lips turn down.
“Not green.” Disappointment lays heavy in his stomach, He should’ve known better than to trust Lo’ak as his source of information.
“Green? Oh you mean cause of the loincloth. It doesn’t really-” Spider cuts himself off, turning silent as he looks down.
Zhali’s ear perk forehead, wondering if he has somehow missed the end of that sentence.
“Shit.” Spider whispers to himself.
Peering over the boy’s golden dreads, Zhali finally finds the source of Spider’s silence. A jagged rip through the side of the loincloth.
“Fuck I- Damnit, I didn’t realize and now….” Spider hunches forward inspecting it frantically. “I’ve ruined it. All for my stupid fucking bow.” He grits out. “You worked so hard on it and I-”Spider gulps, voice heavy with emotion.
“I will make another one.”
“No no, you shouldn’t have to…..I-I’m sorry.”
Zhali catches sight of glimmering tears welding over the boy’s eyes, ones that he refuses to shed. His heartbeat picks up more erratically when Spider allows his dreads to form a curtain over his face.
“Spider, it is fine. I will make a new one. This time red.” As it should have been from the beginning. This would be his chance to redeem himself and give Spider the courting gift he truly deserved. Hesitantly he reaches out to sweep that golden hair away but Spider reels back.
“Another one? N-no I cant ask that. It’s my fault I ruined it…it was…”
“The wrong color. I understand, tawtute.”
“No no no it….it was fucking perfect.” Spider sniffles and more than anything Zhali wishes he could see the boy properly, get that damn mask out of the way so he could wipe away the tears. “The nicest thing anyone has ever done for me.” It’s whispered so soft and reverant that the Na’vi almost questions whether or not he heard it properly.
It would be easier not to believe it.
Easier to believe that there were greater gestures the boy has received over the years than some simple pieces of clothing.
Zhali shifts forward, boldly sweeping the hair away so he can clearly see Spider’s sparkling eyes.
“You deserve so much more than this.” He can see the boy’s lungs still with air. “So much more than a courting gift in the wrong color. More than a simple garment that pales in comparison to your beauty.” Spider’s blunt teeth naw at those soft pink lips. “More than jewels and bracelets. More than all the beauties of Pandora combined.”
It’s as if the boy is frozen in time, air no longer passing through those lips. It’s borderline impossible to understand if this is a good or bad sign, but the truth is bursting from the seams, no longer willing to be kept prisoner.
“You deserve a mate that will care for you. One that truly sees you.” Zhali catches a golden strand, tucking it behind Spider’s ear. Oh how he wishes to bury his face in that hair, to fully let the beautiful tawtute’s scent to sink in.
His stomach twists into a bundle of knots but the words come regardless.
“I see you, Spider.”
Silence stretches between them but Spider’s eyes remain trained on him, pupils blown wide and breath stilled. A new form of anxiety settles itself as the seconds pass without a clear breath coming from him.
“You do not have to say anything. I have only begun courting you after all. I simply thought you should kno-”
Spiders cuts him off with a shake of his head, breath finally exhaled. Nothing, however, matches the horror Zhali feels as the boy reaches to lift his mask.
“No Spider-” He catches his wrist.
“It’s ok.” Spider gently pries the hand from his wrist before taking a deep breath in.
The mask is carefully slipped from his face but Spider gives him a reassuring smile when he spots the concern written over Zhali’s face. And then, the space between them decreases slowly, the boy’s face inching closer to his own until their noses brush. Those big doe eyes flicker between his own heated gaze and lips.
The first point of contact is hesitant and slow, but there is a certain tenderness to that gentle swipe of lips. Spider’s lips are so much smaller than his own, but ever so soft. So many moments have led to this one but his heart continues to race, ever so worried about hurting the small tawtute.
It is Spider, however, that pushes it forward, small tongue swiping at his bottom lip. Zhali allows him. He gives the boy of his dreams access, gives him the world because there is nothing else he can manage to do, not when his wildest fantasies are coming true. Leisurely they each explore one another and melt into the kiss.
He cups Spider face tenderly, hands easily covering each side of his head. He even allows his fingers to softly explore through the sunshine mane. Spider’s hands are more cautious, but every area they trace over has Zhali’s tail swinging back and forth exuberantly.
In some ways this kiss is nothing in comparison to the other sexual rendezvous Zhali has experienced and yet it feels more intimate. Like finally having access to a beautiful masterpiece kept behind glass for so long. Finally getting to cherish Spider’s beautiful face instead of observing from a distance.
At the first jerk of Spider’s chest, Zhali sternly repositions the mask over his face. His emotions swirl from pure elation to trepidation as he waits to hear that first breath.
Spider lets out a small gasp for air, cheeks tinting as his chest expands and caves rapidly. Hands on the boy’s thighs, Zhali leans forward, eyes darting across the mysterious mask to make sure it is working properly.
“Can you breathe?” He reaches forward to mess with the contraption, not that he has any idea how but he can’t help himself.
“Yeah yeah…I can.” Spider lets out an airy laugh. “Well, mostly.”
Zhali’s frown deepens urgency increasing but then he notices that dazed smile over the boy’s face. The giddy look in his eyes as that beautiful blush paints his cheeks once more.
“It’s ok It’s ok.” Spider laughs, small hands prying Zhalil’s own off the mask. “I’m alright. Just a little overwhelmed.”
“You promise, sevin?” Zhali sweetly pushes a few dreads away from Spider’s face, eyes studying him intently.
Once again Zhali watches in awe as that tan skin quickly shifts to a darker shade of red, even traveling over Spider’s collarbones and chest. He follows that blossom of color downwards, eyes caught on the boy’s small nipples now perked in the cool air. He doesn’t try to hide the ogling, not now that the truth is out.
“Y-yes.” Spider stutters.
“Good.” He breathes out, but his hands are already gliding over the soft skin of Spider’s sides. He takes in every reaction like a gift. The way the tawtute shivers when his ribcage is brushed, the way that blush only intensifies with Zhali’s darkening gaze, the way his nipples pebble under his long fingers as if they are aching to be touched.
For so long Spider has been forbidden fruit. For even longer Zhali has dreamed of how this beautiful creature would feel in his hands, the sounds he could draw from him. Sitting here feels like a dream, one beyond his wildest imagination when a small groan escapes Spider.
One hand dares to grip the boy’s left hip while the other swirls over one hardening nipple. Without a tail or ears it can be hard to read Spider but even Zhali can recognize the restraint his beautiful tawtute exhibits as his hips twitch and chest heaves.
Spider’s eyes stray away from the intimate points of contact when Zhali leans forward to rest his temple against his. Breath fogs up the glass.
“Spider”
“Yes?” He whispers.
“Let me take care of you.”
Spider’s thick lashes flutter rapidly as he visibly gulps.
“But I….w-why?” He stutters, as if unable to process the concept.
“Because you deserve it, sevin.” He squeezes his hip gently as Spider stares at him with big hazel eyes. A color that he could easily get lost in. Ones that goes greatly with Spider’s now swollen pink lips.
He has never been so desperate to please such a beautiful being.
“Let me make you feel good, yawne.” Spider’s eyes flutter closed when the Na’vi rakes his longer fingers through his hair. “Please, yawntutsyip.”
Spider melts in the touch, letting the Na’vi cradle the back of his head.
“Let me show you how I’d take care of you if you’d be mine.” His softly scratches along his scalp, delighting in the way Spider’s small form goes slack.
A new spice intertwines with Spider’s scent, filling Zhali’s lungs until it has become his own personal drug.
“Sevin?”
“Y-yes yes, ok yeah I-I…yes.” Spider exhales, words tumbling together.
Zhali grins.
Spider is sure he’s hallucinating. So sure that somewhere in that fall he hit his head a little too hard and now suffers from delusions. It’s the only explanation he has to explain how this god of a Na’vi has decided to please him. The only way he can comprehend not only being allowed in his kelku but furthermore have those sharp teeth tracing over his abs.
Looking down at the male who kisses and nips at his body like it’s art made just for him, Spider is content to let this hallucination continue. He will spend the rest of his life in this dream if it means staying cradled in his arms, if it means feeling that hot tongue explore his body intimately.
True intimacy can be hard to come by for Spider.
Kiri tries and Jake will occasionally ruffle his hair but it does little to satiate what he really needs. Now, however, seems to be the worst time to realize how touch starved he is. It’s embarrassing how difficult it is to keep himself from squirming or God forbid even bucking up into every touch and kiss.
It’s worse than being a teenager in his hammock trying to get himself off. At least then he was in the privacy of his own company but Zhali’s touch is like lightning in comparison to his own. His hands are so much larger that when the Na’vi goes to cup his head or slink down his chest, it covers the expanse easily.
It’s when Zhali pushes him down with a hand to his chest that Spider realizes he might be into their size difference more than he anticipated.
Neck craning to watch Zhali litter kisses along his lower abdomen, he burns in mortification when he spots his own boner through the green loincloth. He wants to believe that Zhali has not noticed this before but even he knows that Na’vi have greatly enhanced senses.
Fuck, he most likely already can smell his arousal, let alone see it.
His blunt teeth sink into his bottom lip harder as he holds back the jumble of moans that threaten to break loose.
It’s pathetic.
Already in adulthood and yet all it takes for him to rut like a hormonal teenager are a few well placed kisses and bites.
Open mouthed kisses are meticulously placed along his v line until he has reached his right hip. Something sharp draws along his skin and Spider sees the Na’vi’s teeth bared. Their eyes connect for a moment and it appears to be all the confirmation that Zhali requires before he takes the plush flesh into his mouth and sucks hard.
A shocked cry falls from Spider’s lips as his back arches.
Pain and pleasure dance together in symphony when those impressive teeth come into play. What has his legs shaking, however, is the knowledge that it will leave a mark. Even humans know what such a display means.
A marking to show he is being courted.
A marking to show that he is wanted and desired by a male prospect.
“Am I hurting you, sevin?”
It takes a moment for the words to register.
“Wh- oh no no. You’re not.”
“Hm, good.” Looking up through his lashes Zhali keeps their gazes pinned as he lays a tender kiss over the new mark. Those lips skate over his skin until reaching the intricate ties of his loincloth.
Hands holding the male’s thighs apart, Zhali carefully secures a tie between his teeth and begins to pull. Watching that knot unravel feels like the longest seconds of Spider’s life. He isn’t sure if he needs it to speed up or slow down because his brain can hardly process what is to come.
It isn’t his first time being bare before a Na’vi. Admittedly, other Na’vi, even among the Metkayina have had their curiosity sparked by Spider. Some shuffled him away with a rushed exploration and desperate touching that became all the sex life Spider had ever known. However, those had only left him unsatisfied and lonely again at the end of the night.
This is different, however.
Zhali, although curious, doesn’t explore him for his own pleasure but rather Spider’s.
He takes in every new discovery and change like a masterpiece meant to be worshiped. He watches for the slightest flinch to signal a change and the smallest twitches of pleasure to indicate what spikes the boy’s pleasure.
And when the silky loincloth falls away, the same one that Zhali had spent weeks carefully crafting especially for him, he doesn’t rush to grip or stroke. His heated gaze is the first thing to caress him, and then his voice.
“So magnificent, my tawtute.”
Spider can already feel himself trembling. This new emotion bubbling forward does not make it easier to gather restraint, to stop himself from appearing like a desperate lonely fool in front of this gorgeous man.
Zhali kisses right next to the base and Spider forces himself to look away.
This gentle worship does things to him that he could never have imagined and therefore could never have prepared for. He can’t watch this any longer without losing the reins.
He can feel himself twitch as soft kisses are placed one by one around the base until every inch has been covered. Toes curling, Spider attempts to slow down his heartbeat.
“Spider”
“Huh?”
He peaks to find Zhali looking up at him, large golden orbs taking in every flinch in his expression.
“I am not hurting you?” He checks again.
“No no, of course not.” Spider chokes out, ears growing hot at the tremor in his voice.
“Hm, I see.” He hums before his fingertips start drawing soft patterns over his hips. “You are tense, sevin.”
His stomach flips.
“Fuck, yeah I know, I-I’m sorry. I understand if-”
Zhali hushes him sweetly, crawling forward to cup his face once more.
“Spider,” His name from Zhali’s lips sounds like a song. “Do you want this?”
He doesn’t enjoy how fast he is nodding his head.
“Yes. I do, shit yeah I do. I’ll keep it together, I'm sorry.”
Zhali is shaking his head before he can even finish the sentence.
“Sevin, do not apologize.” Zhali’s slim tail wraps itself around his calf and Spider has to hide the tremor along his lips. “I only need one thing from you.”
Spider gulps, leaning forward and ready to take the criticism.
“I need you to relax.”
Spider flushes, fighting back the urge to gulp down the knot in his throat.
“Yeah o-okay.”
Zhali is less than convinced but a warm smile crosses his lips. His fingers intertwine with the boy’s hair once more before he is raking them through those golden locks. The reaction is immediate, pleasurable shivers dissipating through Spider’s body.
Never before had he realized how sensitive he is to this gesture but now with those gentle movements massaging his scalp, Spider feels like he could melt into molten gold. Zhali runs his face along the curve of his neck, marking him with his scent.
The hand in his hair is used to tilt Spider’s head back and give him better access. A breath wooshes from the boy’s lungs.
“Just focus on what you feel, sevin.”
Soft lips lay a kiss behind his ear.
“What feels good,” Zhali continues.
Another kiss, this time to his pulse point.
“What feels different.”
Zhali’s textured tongue drags along his skin languidly. Spider hardly registers his own groan as he lets his weight fall into the Na’vi embrace.
“What you want more of.”
When the male begins sucking a hickey into the side of his neck, Spider can no longer keep a cap on his noises. A string of whines and moans fall from his lips as he finds rest in the moment. Eyes closed and mouth agape, he forgets where he is.
He forgets who he is.
He forgets who he is not.
And Spider lets each exhilarating sensation guide his decisions.
“Good boy.” Zhali whispers warmly against his pulse, licking over the mark to soothe.
His hands firmly run down Spider’s sides, squeezing it greedily until his presence can not be forgotten. Taking control of every curve and line, Zhali plays him like an instrument. Spider lays back against the matt, golden hair creating a crown around him. Hazel eyes dilate before fluttering closed when soft kisses are left along his inner thighs.
Sounds erupt from him that Spider doesn’t recognize when Zhali’s tongue begins exploring his length. His body buzzes with a new energy, nerves a lit with every swoop and swirl of that talented tongue.
And even though his hips twitch in silent request for more, Spiders swears that he could live in the moment forever.
“Such beautiful sounds, oeyä tawtute.”
The compliment floods his cheeks and tugs at his chest. There is no longer room for self doubt as praises fall freely between the beautiful exploration of Zhali’s mouth. Every concern is hushed before it can fully bloom.
“You taste so good, sevin. Don’t know how I went without you for so long.”
And then warmth encases his member in a rush. Zhali sucks his cock with such enthusiasm and vigor that it becomes difficult to see which partner enjoys themselves more.
But it’s him.
Spider is sure it is him.
He knows that there is no other Na’vi or human out there that feels the things he is feeling, that reaches such heights of ecstasy and passion in one night. He can’t fathom anyone else knowing the warmth, pleasure, and relief that washes over him.
Nose to the boy’s navel, Zhali swirls his tongue around the boy’s base, easily able to take all of Spider within the warm cavern of his mouth. Spider’s hands shoot down and grab the Na’vi’s tied hair without thought. His fingers grip and tug at the neat bun until strands start to fall loose.
“Oh fuck!” He shouts, blunts nails digging into his scalp.
Zhali pulls back until his lips are sealed around only the bulbous tip. The point of his tongue runs over the slit brashly and Spider yanks on his hair. The action is rewarded with a carnal moan, the vibrations rocketing through the boy.
Zhali likes to watch. Spider can feel those eyes trained on him without reprieve, no matter which way he squirms and bucks. At some point he feels strong hands pin his hips to the ground, forcing him to take the pleasure in its entirety.
Spider isn’t used to the attention.
He isn’t used to the way Zhali mentally tracks his reactions and the actions associated with them.
He isn’t used to the honey eyes drinking in the sight of him.
But most of all, he isn’t used to being the center of attention.
It breaks him into a thousand pieces.
His climax crashes so hard into him that his small hands search for something to ground him. They circle around Zhali’s kuru tugging as he spills into the male’s mouth.
The sound that erupts from Zhali is unlike anything Spider has ever heard from him. So far from the polite, organized and formal male that he has known. It rings forth with a raspy texture and a deep serenade that sets his world on fire.
Not a drop is wasted and Zhali doesn’t release his twitching length until Spider is pushing back his head.
He falls limp against the mat, bowl pupils staring up at the world in a daze. He can briefly sense the careful precision Zhali takes to kiss every mark before running a warm cloth over him but it’s background noise to the symphony playing in his head.
“Thank you, sevin.”
That deep voice now with a raspy tint weaves into his consciousness as Spider revels in the tingling aftershock running through his body. He can only manage a lazy smile when Zhali comes up to check on him.
“Just give me….give one minute and then I….I can help.” He manages to get out between pants. Zhali’s brows furrow until he sees the boy eyeing his tented loincloth.
“You have done more than help today, tawtute. Given me more than I could have asked for.” And he grins so sincerely that Spider can’t fathom how the male could feel this way. In every sexual interaction he has had, there was always a return of the favor, that is assuming Spider finished in the first place. But Zhali looks at him like he hung the moon, eyes glimmering in delight as he wipes him down with a warm cloth.
“You…you don’t want me to touch you?”
Zhali traces idle lines over Spider abs happily.
“Of course I do, but how would that serve the proper purpose? I am courting you.” Zhali stands and begins preparing the hammock for them. He arranges extra pillows and blankets that Spider has never seen other Na’vi have before. In fact, there is a great deal of influence from Sky People culture present in the male’s kelku. Things that only a human would find necessary.
Before he can protest, Spider is carried carefully to the hammock and laid across the Na’vi chest. He tucks a blanket around the boy’s hips, making sure it isn’t too tight but still brings the wet tawtute some warmth.
“Although, I admit. This is out of order. It was supposed to be step twelve but do not worry. I will make sure not to skip over any. Fourteen steps to go.” He nods firmly, lips perking upwards.
Spider’s brain sputters, head still fuzzy from the best orgasm of his life. Tonight feels like a dream, an absolute horny amazing romantic dream that his subconscious has whipped up. He can barely process the night’s turn of events, let alone this handsome male wanting to go through an extensive courting process all for him.
“Fourteen? You….but…that is so much.”
Zhali’s hairless brows furrow.
“It’s hardly enough, sevin. It’s important that you have enough proof of my ability to provide, protect, and love before you make your choice. So you can weigh your options.”
As if he has other options.
Who would surpass this?
Who has ever even tried?
Zhali continues to run his fingers through the human’s hair as he sighs happily, watching as Spider shifts closer.
“I do not expect an answer now, sevin. But hopefully tonight is a start to convincing you.”
Rain pelting down on the kelku and wrapped in this amazing man’s arms, Spider’s eyes fill with tears again.
To call it convincing would be an understatement.
Thanks for reading. As always, I truly appreciate hearing your thoughts. It motivates me to write and update more. Love you all<3
Taglist: @tallulah477 @eywaite @itchaboi-itchyboy @perfectprofessorloverapricot @xylianasblog @neteyamssyulang
#avatar way of water#avatar smut#avatar fanfiction#na'vi x human#male x male#spider x na'vi male oc#spider x navi male#spider avatar#awow spider#avatar wow#spider deserves love#lo'ak sully#neteyam sully#sully family#aged up characters#miles spider socorro#spider smut#spider#na'vi male oc#james cameron avatar#omatikaya#angst#fluff#awow fluff#awow smut#awow angst#m x m#norm avatar#avatar#avatar 2009
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The colonel's new look in Avatar 2 is doing something to me 🧎♀️
Revenant
Part 2 is here
I have no idea wtf this is honestly lol
Send me Avatar requests :))
Na'vi!Colonel Quaritch x Na'vi!Reader?
Warnings >~< = Spoilers kinda?
'Words in italic are Na'vi'
For reference, you're a Na’vi in one of the clans the 'sky people' raided in search of Jake.
You were busy tending to the ilu’s who had just been returned from hunting, their sweet chirps expressing their gratitude as you removed their saddles.
However, it was the piercing scream in the distance that alerted you, your ears flicking in all directions as more shouts erupted.
Dropping the saddle, you jogged away from the clear water, the ilu’s beginning to make their own sounds of distress.
Your jog soon turns into a sprint when you caught sight of what was happening.
It was the sky people, breathing machines strapped to their faces and large guns in their hands. Your eyes then landed on the taller, much larger soldiers.
They were created to look like the people from the forest clan, their strength and speed matching the your own.
It made you sick!
They were all abominations in your eyes, and you would rather die fighting then bow to the likes of them.
Quickly grasping your knife, you ran towards their group, ears back and feet quick.
The closest blue soldier had their back to you, an easy target.
Keeping on the toes of your feet to keep quiet, when you where close enough you leaped of the ground, knife ready - a silent attack.
However apparently not quiet enough as mid-air, you saw their ears twitch, a sign they had indeed heard you.
They expertly evaded out the way, your knife barley grazing their shoulder.
As quick as a bullet, they had the back of your neck grasped in a tight grip. You hissed as the sensitive skin was pinched firmly.
As you reached up to claw at their hand, you felt yourself being turned.
Eventually a man came into view, a deep scowl set on his lips, fangs peeking out under his top lip.
You hissed angrily, ears completely flat at the pain he was causing you.
‘You sneakily little-‘ You cut him off, claws now aiming for his face. He immediately pulled you away from him but didn’t let go.
Now using your legs, you kicked them at him, continuously hissing and fighting back.
Around you, more blue soldiers emerged, the people of your clan in their grips and guns raised until the one holding you barked for them to stand down.
You heard your neighbours and children fight and cry out, no one knowing what was going on.
Feeling trapped by the surrounding enemy, you gave one last kick, landing it straight on his chest.
At the unexpected blow, he dropped you.
The ground was hard as you fell, your tail caught behind you as you landed on it painfully. Letting out a cry, you clutched it to you and leaned up on your hunches.
Your tail throbbed and you whined quietly before you looked up at the devil staring down at you.
He regarded you quietly, eyes hooded and cold as he snarled at you.
'Ill be nice...once..' He spoke, his accent much different to yours as he kneeled down to where you where.
You bared you teeth at his proximity but didn't move to do anything.
'Then I won't.'
You understood him enough, your english not quite good enough to hold a full conversation but you knew enough to hear the threat dripping from his voice.
Reaching behind him, he pulled out a device, a screen sliding out with a picture of a forest Na'vi similar to him. Shoving the screen in your face, your eyes bouced from him to the device.
'Where is Jake Sully?' He attempted to speak Na'vi, his words slow - like a baby speaking for the first time.
You would've laughed in his face had he not had the upper hand in the situation.
'He is part of the forest clan, he doesn't reside here.' You reasoned, hoping he'd believe you and leave. But even you knew that was wishful thinking.
'I’m not stupid woman, he was tracked down to one of these coastal island. Now where. Is. He.' You pieced together his english, but shook your head at his accusation.
'Not here!' You were growing frustrated and scared, as you saw his crew grow more and more aggressive to your family.
He bared his teeth at your resistance and stood back up to his full height, stepping away and turning to the wrangled villagers around you.
'Where is jake?! Speak!' He shouted out and you heard your villagers argue back what you had been telling him.
'Please, have mercy! We do not know!'
He continued to shout until a boy, a human boy, dressed in clan clothes shouted equally as loud at the raving blue soldier.
'This is wrong! They said they don't know already!' The man halted immediately and turned to the boy, walking closer until they where standing directly opposite.
You saw as they argued until eventually the soldier turned away and shouted to his crew.
'He's right, they don't know nothin',' He spat, eyes scanning the crowd until they landed on you.
'Light it up.' He waved his hand nonchalantly before turning and heading back to his ship.
The boy that was at his side now staring with his mouth open as the blue soldiers took their guns, fire exploding out the end and clawing it way up the huts of your village.
You stared in shock at how quickly everything around you quickly became lit with flames.
The cries and screams around you turned distant as your eyes trailed over the destruction, until they landed on the person that caused it all.
Almost immediately the pain spreading throughout your tail stopped as you felt hot blinding white fury raid your bloodstream, body shaking with adrenaline.
Grabbing your forgotten knife, you felt your body move on auto pilot as you got up and sprinted to the ship, hair flying.
You saw the people on the ship become alerted at the Na'vi charging towards them, eyes set on the Colonel making his way up the ramp.
You didn't think as you jumped, landing on his back, left arm wrapping around his neck from behind and the other lifting the knife in the air, ready to plunge into his throat.
However, the one thing you never learned being raised as the clan chief's daughter was how to fight in combat, let alone against a 9’5 trained marine.
He moved quicker than you anticipated, his hand coming up to grip your forearm around his neck and using that to completely flip you over and onto the ground.
You cried out at the landing but moved your knife up to his face.
He dodged the oncoming attack before grabbing the knife from your grip. You hissed at him, his face upside down from your position on the ground.
He chucked the knife away and you took the chance to roll away. Getting back onto your feet, you pulled the smaller dagger from the compartment on your thigh, baring you teeth angrily.
He leaned back up, and chuckled when he saw the knife in your fist.
Hissing again you ran towards him and he layed his hands out in front of him, tail swinging and ready for your attack.
However, just as you grew closer, you slid yourself along the floor, sliding between his legs and ending up behind him.
You plunged the knife into his thigh and he groaned out at the unexpected wound.
Retracting it you stepped away as he turned to you, ears flat and face full of anger.
'That was real fucking sneaky kid.' You ears twitched as he spoke, holding eye contact as you readied yourself for his attack.
'You are an abomination!' You snarled, tail whipping around you threateningly.
You prepared to lunge again until you felt it.
It was a tiny prick! in the side of your leg and you instantly looked down, a tiny clear thing sticking out the side of your leg. You ears perked up as your confusion grew.
As you were reaching to yank it out, you felt yourself being rammed into.
And for the third time that day, you landed and slid along the floor, the body of the blue soldier strapping you down to the ribbed surface below.
The movement caught you off guard as the knife fell from your grip. You hissed and clawed at the monstrosity above you, who only gazed down at you, smirk pulling at his lips.
Gone was his anger, triumph replacing it. It oddly left you on edge as you continued to thrash under him, his legs on either side of your body.
'Look's like you'll be staying with us a little longer.' His fangs flashed as he tried to dominate your unrelenting body, but you refused to give up.
That was until you felt yourself slowly come to a stop against your will. Your punches no longer had any strength behind them as you fell flat to the floor.
You managed one more angry snarl before you felt your eyes droop shut as everything around you slowed and turned black.
It was then in the distance that you heard your parents call out to you, worry dripping from their voices but there was nothing you could do.
Part 2 - Avatar Masterlist here
Kofi <33
P.s Avatar 2 has brought back my size kink, full force >:0
#avatar#avatar 2#avatar way of water#awow#way of water#miles quaritch#avatar smut#colonel quaritch#miles quaritch smut#x reader#na'vi oc#na'vi language#na'vi#na'vi quaritch#na'vi x reader#avatar the way of water#jake sully#neytiri#neteyam#smut#i need jesus#send help#im in heat#avatar x you#na'vi!reader#miles quaritch x reader#revenant
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I See You - Prologue
Miles Quaritch x Fem! Na'vi OC
Summary: Vira Te Wou Auhew’ite, an albino Na'vi and future Tsahìk of the Tayrangi Clan, The Ikran Riders of the Eastern Sea, keeps needing to save the demon Miles Quaritch at Ewyas command. When she's given a sign to try to teach him The People's way, both she and Miles struggle with their growing feelings for each other.
Authors note: So, this is the first thing I've written in a long time and the first time I have ever posted online so please be kind, I'm not the best with syntax or formatting my writing sadly. BUT I went and saw Avvatar the Way of Water and I'm obsessed with Na'vi/Recom Quaritch. I had a dream about a pink Na'vi (then started researching it and found this old post as the guide for her hair and eye colors: https://forum.learnnavi.org/general-avatar-discussion/navi-with-albinism/ ). After that, I MANICALLY hammered out 5 chapters to this fic. It's messy and imperfect but I hope it will be enjoyed. Slow burn/Enemies to lovers I think is the vibe this is going for as I try to reel in and edit this. Quaritch still had his loyalty to the RDA and humans so I think it would take time, and patience for a real romance to bloom. There WILL be smut but it'll take some time before we get there.
Also, this will HEAVILY parallel Jakes journey in the first movies but not be a retelling. If that's not your cup of tea, sorry.
Rating: T
Warnings: None really, canon typical violence
Words: 1803
--
The first time Colonel Miles Quaritch saw her was when he claimed his banshee. He’d managed to get on the back of the beast and connect his queue but they’d gone over the side of the cliff where the bastards lived and were falling, fast. Was this second chance at life over before it had even really started?
Then in an instant, she was there.
A large yellow and pink blur was flying beside him. It was Na’vi female on her own golden Banshee. Miles was falling so quickly he barely had the time to take in that she was the strangest Na’vi he had ever seen. She was pink.
Expertly beside him, she dove on her own beast just as quickly as he and his mount fell, her peculiar blonde hair streaming behind her as she shouted in near-perfect English.
“Think fly not fall, use the bond!”
“Fly?” When the words escaped the colonel's mouth the creature shot up, back up through the clouds of the floating hallelujah mountains to the Banshee Rookery, back to his team and Spider.
His success spurred the rest of his team to go on and claim their own Banshee partners but the colonel's thoughts drifted back to the strange-colored Na’vi. Why had she helped in? Had he imagined her? Hallucinated in the face of impending doom? He didn't mention the interaction to anyone.
Once the squad was whole, they rode on their mounts. Spider rode in front of the colonel as they moved in formation through the mountains, the kid seemed to be enjoying it. Quaritch kept his eyes open for the pink Na’vi but no sign of her. He figured, whoever she’d been, whyever she’d saved him, he’d never see her again.
Until he did.
Miles saw the pink Navi almost immediately once his team had rounded up the sea na’vi village for questioning. She tried to stay toward the back of the group but she stuck out like a sore thumb. She was pink after all, how she’d survived amongst the Blues was a wonder, he’d seen firsthand in the jungle how useful the blue colorings were to helping him and his team blend in.
He filed away in the back of his brain that she dressed a little nicer than the common natives, her grab was mostly green and beads dangled from her biceps. The most telling sign that she was important was a big ol’ beaded collar around her neck. Savage royalty perhaps?
Either way, it didn’t help him understand why she’d gone out of her way to help him before but he intended to find out.
But once he gave the order to burn the hutches, the opportunity to question her was missed. The pink Na’vi took the opportunity of the confusion and anguish of the tribals to bolt to the yellow banshee and fly back toward the mainland.
The Recom Na’vi watched her soar right over him, her big orange eyes filled with tears unabashedly made eye contact with him. She didn’t screech or scream like the other locals on the beach did, throwing themselves to the ground with grief. No, she looked at him with those big doe eyes like he was supposed to be better than this. It pissed him off that she had the gall to be disappointed in him for being the soldier he was.
Miles didn’t enjoy that little twist in his gut, one because a damn native made him feel it and two because he felt it at all. His human counterpart would never be so weak. The pang of guilt was amplified when he looked to Spider, who was grieving just as much as the Blues at the loss of their home.
“Should we go after that one Colonel?” Zdinarsk asked, gesturing with her gun and popping her pink bubble gum nonchalantly as the flames raged.
Briefly, the colonel considered having her shot out of the sky or pursuing her on his own banshee.
But he did owe the little na’vi a debt and he was feeling charitable today, already not killing the villages Tsahìk for Spider's sake. He really did care what the kid thought, even though he told himself time and time again he wasn’t actually his son, they weren't even the same species anymore.
“Naw, the fact she’s flying means she’s no use to us. We must have interrupted her vacation.”
When he got back on the boat he asked the science puke who loved the Tulkun why a Na’vi would be pink, he went into a long-winded explanation that ended with him saying it was like being an albino. It was rare but it happened.
Quaritch had a feeling he’d see her again, he wasn’t a man who liked to believe in coninsicdenece.
–-
When he saw her again, his life debt to her was doubled.
After being rescued from near drowning by Spider after his fight with Sully, Miles flew on the back of his Banshee for as long as he could back to the mainland. He was trying to make it to the RDA to get patched up but the banshee could feel he was hurt and ultimately it slowed them down.
They’d made it into the heart of an unknown part of the jungle, Quaritch was weak and took up against a tree, holding his abdomen, his banshee close to keep an eye on him. It was strange to him still that the beast was so loyal to him but it served him well so far.
As he lay there against the tree, his breathing was labored. He was hurt but he wasn't sure how severe.
Clutching his abdomen he could help but think of how he was breaking his own original “Pandora Rules” by being out after dark. But tonight he noticed how the forest was filled with bioluminescent life and for once he thought maybe Pandra was the slightest bit beautiful and not brutal.
The colonel was struggling to keep his yellow eyes open and his breath steady but he saw the slightest of moments among the trees, the dancing of dozens of little bioluminescent dots.
“I see you” he managed to grunt out, knowing it had to be a Na’vi, here to end him once and for all.
But the figure approached with caution, not contempt in the low light he was able to make out this was no typical Na’vi. It was the little pink one again.
“No, you don't see,” She said in English and she knelt down next to him.
Her small 4 digited hands reached for his abdomen, where most of his pain was.
The colonel's much larger blue hands snatched her pink ones up before she could touch him. She looked annoyed, puffing out her cheeks but Quartich wasn’t about to just start trusting the natives, not after all he’d don’t to them.
“Help. Let me help.” She urged, attempting to move her hands towards his waist while his hands were still holding them. They didn’t move an inch in his vice-like grip.
He didn't move a muscle as his yellow eyes stared into her orange ones, looking for some indication of her intention. The color reminded him of the good, warm fire on the first cold day of winter. They were warm and inviting. He continued raking his eyes down her to form to assess how much of a threat she could be. The female was light pink, a blush color with even slightly darker pink striations down her body in place of the normal blue ones the Na’vi had. She squirmed a little but he was too strong for her to really put up any kind of decent fight.
She had long white-blonde hair with one thick braid down the center of her head that he assumed held her queue, it was surrounded by several smaller ones around it which eventually flowed from braid to curl. She still wore all the pomp and frills of being an important native, tons of beads on her clothing, and she wore one of the collar necklaces that indicated some kind of status.
Quaritch also took note of a little garter on her thigh that held he could see held a knife made of bone and a small satchel she was carrying.
She did not seem to appreciate how long he was taking to study her, letting out an exasperated sound and rolling her big orange doe eyes.
“Fine. Die.” She shrugged and turned her head away like a waspish brat.
His wounds must have been getting to him because he briefly imagined that if he wasn’t still holding her in place that she would have stood up to stomp her foot.
“Settle down, sweetheart. Just looking at who I’m dealing with, nothing personal.” Quaritch retorted as he released her.
Miles made quick work to remove his combat vest on his own but winced as he tried to pull his shirt over his head. The little white Na’vi leaned in to help him and he didn’t protest. Once the pair of them managed to wrangle it off of him, the natives' face was too close for his comfort.
She seemed to notice this too and moved her face back after a beat to start assessing his abdomen and torso, she ran her little hands over his one of ribs and it earned her a full fang-faced hiss from him. It was surely broken after his scrape with Sully.
She got up without saying anything and retrieved from big leaves and began applying some foul-smelling paste from her bag to his abdomen that reminded him of cough drops.
Her pink legs were tucked under her delicately as she worked, now wrapping him up with the big leaves as makeshift bandages.
“Why are you helping me anyways, Princess?” The sharp edge of distrust in his voice.
“Not Princess,” was all she said, ignoring his question as she finished his bandages and now retrieved a needle and thread.
Quaritch was not a man who would be ignored.
Even in his current state, he was bigger, faster, and stronger than her. He grabbed the long white blonde braid that held her queue when she looked down to thread the needle.
She screeched and tears sprang to the corners of her eyes. The little pink Na’vi didn't even try to fight him, she was obviously not a warrior.
“I asked you nicely, so now I’ll ask you again,” his hold tightened “why did you save me? Why are you helping me now?”
She frantically said something in Navi but he quickly cut her off.
“No, no, in English.”
He lacked the patience right now to decipher the alien language.
“Ewya wishes for you to live,” she spat.
Quaritch released her and let out a bitter laugh that stung his broken rib.
--
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#avatar#avatar 2#avatar way of water#awow#way of water#miles quaritch#colonel quaritch#na'vi oc#na'vi#na'vi quaritch#recom quaritch#colonel miles quaritch#avatar quaritch#miles quaritch x oc#quaritch smut#eventual smut#slow burn#enimies to lovers#quaritch redemption arch#quaritch#quaritch x female oc#quaritch x OFC
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Human Neteyam dumped his toxic ex and went to your oc (one of them), and she comforted him by comfort. I mean sucking his d*ck 🫠😏💖😍🤤🍆.
Omg! Yes!
Sexy love ❤️
(Aged up Neteyam, oc. Neteyam 24, Jada 22. Smut, break up, oral, p v, impregnation.)
Neteyam came to jada's house.
Fast forward he's moaning and thrusting his hips as he looks at her making eye contact as she slurp and sucks his cock.
Neteyam: Ah, Jada, baby. Oh fuck..fuck your lips 💋 are perfect baby girl.
Jada: Mm..we should stop. She might come back.
Neteyam: NO!I need you mamas.(Grab her hair face fucking her then bend her over. Her wet pussy twitched through her panties he pulled them down and rails her having her moan and scream as she said his name)
Jada: Neteyam, Neteyam, Neteyam! Ahh Neteyam- oh your cock is so good baby! It's going so deep in my pussy I can feel your dick knot me!
Neteyam smack her ass gripping it: That's my girl, that's my sweet girl..I'm going to make you my baby mama~.♡ Ah princess I'm cumming I'm gonna give you my baby! Seeing this curvy body more plump with my baby growing in your womb!
9 months pregnant 🤰🏾
Neteyam is showing off his future wife/ baby mama in front of his toxic ex who looks shocked and dumbfounded.
Neteyam: I love you, I'm yours.
Jada gave birth to a baby boy named Neteyam Jake Sully Jr. Or NJ. He looks like his daddy and grandpa Jake but has jada's eyes and attitude. 🤣
If you have any more than don't be afraid to go to my ask box 💋💕💝💖😜
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Dilf Jake sully x Omatikaya reader!
You just turned eighteen and since you will be completing your right of passage soon and both of your parents are deceased Jake sully the olo'keteyan of the village has been chosen to mentor you and you've had verry few interactions with him so your extremely nervous and your ears are perched back in fear despite the good things you've heard of him..
Warning's: daddy kink, daddy issues TvT, fluff, maybe more idk I'm writing the warning before the story so..?
Chapter one 'i understand'
You rushed to get up in the morning searching for a different loincloth and top to wear as you weren't sure if the one you were wearing was to revealing, or not good enough looking. Just overthinking as usual
Once you find a pretty good one that nice and modest and change into it and try to do your best to braid the front pieces of your long curly hair out of her face, and you admitted to your self you looked cute!
Of course you wanted to look good for jake getting trained by the olo'keteyan was a honor and you were nervous, scared, excited, terrified so many things to feel at once but that's how you roll
You made your way out of your tent and walked a little past high camp to a place in the forest that you had been told to meet for training and you look around for Jake seeing him preached on a rock your tail curled he's so strong looking and so tall..10ft only the strongest navi were that tall and he's so muscular..
Your snapped out of your thoughts when Jake called out to you coming towards you with a laugh "enjoying the show?" He says of course joking on the fact of how zoned out you were and you get so flustered burying your face in your hand your ears perching back again
Jake noticed your nervousness and bent down to you a little bit he forgets his huge size some times your only maybe..8 foot? And he was cowering over you so now that he's bent down your at eye level and he softened his gaze "I was joking syulang calm down a bit were just gonna get to know each other today" he says ruffling your hair and you Jake a deep breath your ears giving a flicker and perking up as he ruffles your hair and ears and you had let out a little giggle "that's what I'm talking about!' Jake says before leading you to some rocks by the river and sits on one lower to the ground and places you on a high one so he's not so high up from you and you can both sit comfortably
"so what's your name syulang or should I just stick to syulang" he says with a little laugh and you think to your self that you wouldn't mind him calling you that for food but you smiled cheekly "I'm (name)" you say with a blush your cheeks with a purple tint
"what a lovely name but I think I like syulang better" he says with a smile and you feel your heart flutter and almost skip a beat he's so mesmerizing.. "th-thank you olo'keteyan!" You say feeling so lucky smiling like a young girl with a innocent crush looking away from him embarrassed and he bites his lip smiling at how cute you were when you were all nervous like that and he wraps an arm around you pulling you closer "don't be so formal syulang call me jake!" You smiled your ears perking up and you knod franticly "ok j-jake!" He smiled and looks down at you with a more serious face "so since I'm mentoring you that means your parents...," You cut him of your ears shifting down "th-there d-dead."
They had died in the war against the sky people to Jake just being one more casualtie but to you it was your whole world crashing down three years ago when your parents took the bullet to save you and died in the prosses leaving you alone in the forest for months until some soldiers found you and brought you back and you spent the last three years alone crying your self to sleep with the memories flashing through your mind
It's crazy how the sound of Jake's voice immediately snapped you out of your horrible trance the memories fading and you feel the tears now on your cheeks and Jake wraps his arms around you pulling your face I to his chest and you melt into his arms feeling so safe and secure you never wanted him to let you "I lost my mate a few years ago and my brother so I understand" he says rubbing your back as you fall asleep in his arms this is the first time you've actually gone to sleep feeling safe since your parents death
I am taking Jake x reader request!
#atwow loak#avatar angst#avatar#avatar wotw#jake sully#avatar x you#jakesully#sully family x reader#loak#tsireya x reader#avatar fluff#jake sully x you#avatar jake#jake smut#jake sully dilf#avatar x reader#awow neteyam#awotw#loak x reader#loak x oc#jake sully x neytiri#jake sully x omaticaya!reader#jake sully x oc#jake sully x reader
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Summary:The Sullys arrived to what they are hoping a new home; the Metkayina clan of Awa'atlu. Seeking uturu they are forced to adapt to a life at sea Foreign to her family but to Kílsyí it feels like home.
Note: Kílsyí is my original oc. Ralak belongs to @zestys-stuff and this story was inspired by @tiredmamaissy love you both!!!
Warning: suggestive hint at NSFW but mostly nothing
Chapter 2: First Breath
---------------------------
Kílsyí made her way to her family but for some reason she felt a lot of eyes on her more than usual and that made her anxious and she wanted to hide and disappear from sight. Her tail slapped at the sand in frustration then swayed with irritated movements. Her body language said one thing ‘stop fucking looking at me’ most around her did focusing on her father her sibling her mother but there was still that burning feeling of being watched, it wasn’t unpleasant but it was noticeable like something at the edge of you mind you can’t quite recall or an itch you couldn’t quite scratch. She looks around her head coming up from the ground for the first time, her bicolored eyes scanning the people. Her eyes landed on one that unapologetically held her own head tilted in curiosity that was guarded behind a neutral expression. Her tail went rigid as her ears flicked and she felt her body grow hot. She didn’t like the feeling she got or rather how fast it occurred. She looked away though the feeling of being watched and the heat didn’t. ‘Click..pop..click’
What snapped her back into focus was one word “uturu, sanctuary” she looked to her father as the Tsahik of the clan Ronal looked them over the clan leader Tonowari coming from the shore as well. Kílsyí watched as she criticized them for how they looked and she felt their pain and a hiss slowly rose from her throat taking everyone by surprise including herself. She looked around at Jake giving her a look and Tiri doing so as well. But what she didn’t expect was Ronal to look at her not with offense but with curiosity, shock, and was that sadness “Naya?!” She whispers out in disbelief tears in her eyes as she reaches out for her face. Kílsyí was frozen in place..that was her mothers name. “ Naya passed………when she gave birth to a baby girl” Tonowari said to his mate softly. “You knew my mom,” Kílsyí murmurs, shocked as she knew little to nothing about the other half of her blood. “Uturu has been asked” his voice echoes and with a soft nod Ronal consents to let them stay. “ We will talk soon but first you need to rest and learn the way of your people.”
Kílsyí was reeling her body moving on its own; the only thing on her mind was how the tsahik had looked at her with such happiness and sweet sorrow like reuniting with an old friend or even loved family member. “Kílsyí!!!” She jumped hearing her name and finally snapped out of her trance having stared at the floor of their mauri pod for 5 entire minutes unmoving. She looked up seeing Jake and Tiri looking at her concerned while her siblings were outside the door eavesdropping of course but just as worried “I’m fine” she blinked her eyes were blank almost muted her tail was twisting in ways that showed different “i think i need air, i'll go start learning “ she says
Jake tried to stop her to tell her that she'd be training with someone closer her age and as she was one of the people by blood Tonowari selected someone for her. But Kílsyí continued until she ran, letting her body take over as she saw the clear blue, she attracted eyes as she ran and dove off the walkway into the water with perfect diving form. She let the water envelop her and she felt her heartbeat slow and her body relax, her mind calm, she was at peace. She swam around taking in the beautiful reef it was nothing like the forest rivers and streams it was teaming with life and colors. She smiled and looked around, spotting her brothers with the clan leaders' kids. She swam closer seeing Kiri first and she touched her chest smiling happily that she was doing so well before she saw Neteyam and Lo'ak and swam to them. She waves and stuck out her tongue blowing bubbles in his face much more at ease now she was in the water. Aonung and Tsireya watched in shock as the eldest of the Sullys took to water as if she was born here. They all went to the surface and Kilsyi pants a little more so from laughing "Kilsyi how are you so good at breathing" aonung asks a bit rude but it was more curious. She sighs softly and looks away. "My father took me swimming every day since I was an infant. It's where I feel my safest, I suppose , and flying" she says "the way water lives in you Kílsyí, you are one of us" tsireya says. She smiles to the girl "thank you.....Neteyam Lo'ak you'll do fine don't rush that pain you feel is panic calm accept it" she swims off to take some more time on her own.
She had no idea that she was being observed by someone sharp eyes assessed her as he took her time and explored the reef. She lost track of how long she was under, unlike home this was lol new to her and she didn’t have to worry about being under to long this clan lived and breathed water. Above water Tonowari was talking to Jake with a impatient Ronal close behind “ she has a right to know where she came from she is one of the people, her mother is with our ancestors.” Ronal insisted as Naya Kílsyí’s mother was the closest thing Ronal had to a sister before she died. Jake looked back out at the water seeing that she had not come up for air. “And who’s going to teach her the way of her people she has has been an omatikaya her entire life.” Jake says worried that she would struggle after getting overwhelmed with her past and her training. “30 minutes she been under the water for 30 minutes she is not just omatikaya she is metkayina and it shows” Tonowari reminded him. Kílsyí came up for air this time gasping she had been so invested in what was below she didn’t come back up for air black spots in her vision and her heart starting to pound was her indication. She swam to shore and sighs laying back on the sand listening to the waves crash on the beach.
Her tranquility was short live as a shadow had taken the place of the sun. She opens her eyes and looks up seeing Jake and the Olo’eyktan Tonowari and the warrior from before the one that looked at her oddly. He had the same look on his face now as before and she still couldn’t put an emotion to it. She turned her attention back to Jake who looked like he was struggling to find the right words “we’ve decided to switch up your training as you already can swim better than any of us so you will be learning to be a hunter with one of tonowari's best warriors and hunters and you will be learning healing from Ronal she knew your mother personally and this is your home by blood it's only fair” he says hoping she would understand. Kílsyí sighs, biting her bottom lip, lacing her finger together, popping the joints she had picked up from a scientist and it became a nervous tick. She noticed the warrior to Jake’s left seemed to be put off by the sound and she instantly stopped putting them behind her back. She watched as his eyes widen ever so slightly shocked she had that keen of perception. “I’d rather just learn it all together with you, not the family” she mutters. It's not that she didn’t want to learn, it's just that she didn’t want to get special treatment. She got lost in how a few of the others would say it wasn’t fair for her to she pass or fail like the rest of them.
She sighs softly as she remembers the words Jake had said in the pod as she had aimlessly moved around “don’t cause trouble and learn fast. ‘Pop..click..pop’ she popped the joints in her fingers her lip disappears between her teeth “ alright then” she conceded closing her eyes taking a deep breath, it was clear to the 3 that she wasn’t feeling at all at home despite having some connection here a sentiment 2 of the 3 Navi with her could understand. “I promise it won't be bad lsyi” she gave a genuine smile and holds back a laugh “ that is my line” she says as that was what she said to him when she saw him get thrown into mud when he was training years ago. Jake seemed satisfied giving a smile and stands leaving her with the other na’vi.
She couldn’t bring herself to say anything and she couldn’t give him the greeting she squeezed her hands knowing that if he started to pop her joints she wouldn’t stop. Her tail wrapped around her own leg as her eyes bored into the surf and sand and she began to jerk her knee back and forth moving her body, she cursed how many sky people mannerisms she picked up she may have not had 4 fingers or be part human but she might as well been with her peculiar movements. But it grinded to a halt as she felt it again that burning stare she felt when she first arrived and the heat that made her heart race. But this time she heard a soft sound, was it a chuckle? She looked up at him making eye contact and her face confused. She let her eyes look him over her own words caught in his throat he was huge in all manner of the word
As she looked upon the tattooed Metkayina Na'vi warrior with long, wet hair, she couldn't help but feel her thoughts begin to wander through the nervousness still reigned strong in her body. With each passing moment, her gaze lingered longer upon his rippling muscles, enjoying the way his tattoos seemed to come alive upon his skin, reminding her how water would change the pattern of the river bed at home. It was a welcome comparison her mind made. And as her mind began to wander, she pictured herself running her fingers along his tattoos, tracing the lines and curves until she found herself lost in a haze of- well she didn’t know what it was it reminded her of the burning need she felt when she hadn’t swam in so long, that burn she felt when she held her breath too long, it was sharp hard to swallow.
But it wasn't just his tattoos that held her attention - it was the way he moved, the way his body seemed to flow with an easy grace that left her breathless. She found herself imagining what it would be like to feel that body pressed against hers, his arms wrapping tightly around her as she lost herself in his embrace.
As she continued to stare, mesmerized by this striking warrior before her, her thoughts grew increasingly inappropriate. She couldn't help but picture him completely devoid of clothing, baring all his secrets to her eager eyes. It was a heady almost mind crushing fantasy, one that left her heart racing and her body aching for more, like a shot of adrenaline .
And as she finally tore her gaze away, she knew that she could never quell the burning that this tattooed warrior had sparked within her to the point it made her stomach churn as if she would lose her stomach all together. In that moment, she was trapped, unable to breathe air, completely and utterly lost. “Are you okay?” She heard his voice. Her ear flicked as she finally registered his voice. It was deep husky and it made her nervous in a way she couldn’t pinpoint. She swallows again for the second time finally able to get words out “yes” she says looking down again unaware of the amused look on his face as he had caught her completely eye fucking him.
She sighs, closing her eyes under his watchful yet confused ones. She slowly calmed down the movement and with a deep breath relaxed although she couldn't place there was something rooted now. And she was not prepared to figure out what.
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If you'd like to be tagged for when the next chapter is out please let me know!! Comments welcome!!
#avatar the way of water#avatar 2009#avatar james cameron#avatar 2022#avatar#awow#avatar fanfiction#ralak#ralak smut#avatar oc#avatar jake#neytiri#avatar smut#ocs#oc smut#omaticaya clan#avatar 2#metkayina#avatar jake sully#oc x oc ship#awow smut#avatar headcanons#dilf jake sully#sully family#sully family x reader#loak sully#neytiri x daughter!reader#neteyam sully#avatar fic
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Ralak te Sepwan ieyk’itan: Special Episode III
Calm After the Storm
An Illustrated Collaboration with @zestys-stuff
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 creator @zestys-stuff.
Characters: Metkayina!Ralak (24) x Sully!Omaticaya!Reader (19)
Warnings: nsfw, smut, fluff, profanity, age gap, rut cycle, heat cycle, extreme knotting, marking, scenting, territorial/possessive behaviour, breeding kink, p in v, mating/bonding, multiple climaxes, creampie, belly bulge, actual breeding, let me know if I forgot anything?
Word Count: 6.3k
Requested: Yes || No
Author’s Note: Happy halloween guys! I know I literally fell off the face of the earth and I will make another post to address that. But I know I haven’t participated for @pandoraslxna ‘s kinktober event (I’m so sorry bby) but if I could only participate for one of the days it would be today for sure. So I definitely wanted to get this out before midnight. It’s not purely a/b/o but honestly entails all the aspects of it. I think we can all definitely tell who’s the alpha and omega here (Ralak is alpha material hands down, ofc). I hope you guys enjoy this one, and I apologize for such a wait <3 Also I feel like I’m a bit rusty, so apologies for any typos, errors, or just plain suckish writing.
ALSO a big happy birthday to my babe @neteyamsoare <3 love you and hope it was a good one!!
Synopsis: Your heat starts to subside, but Ralak’s rut is only getting stronger. What could possibly go wrong?
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——
Only an hour has passed before you feel your not-so-gentle giant stirring behind you, waking you from your sleep. You’d both been on your sides for too long now and everywhere seems to ache. You whine when you feel his hips shift against you, tugging at the immense pressure between your hips. The bulge protruding from your lower abdomen has barely gone down and you feel almost as full as you did when he initially emptied his load inside you.
Silken strands of his hair fall onto your prickled skin as he props himself up on his elbow from behind you, perching his chin on your throbbing shoulder. He inhales deeply – longingly. His hot breath gently blows against your neck just as you feel his arm snake under your leg and yank it back in one rough tug.
“Ralak.” His name falls from your lips through a nearly inaudible croak. “‘m so full.” You barely mumble out, rolling your head to the side. Yet, the flame within you is without a doubt reigniting with a vengeance.
And he can sense it.
Simply by the way you push back into him, making that bulge in your belly protrude a little more. His large hand resting on your stomach can indubitably feel it. And the smile that it puts on his face is almost baleful, bearing his lengthy canines that yearn to sink deep into you once more. “Sorry, tìyawn [love].”
He just can’t help it.
No matter how hard he tried. The desire—no, the need—to fuck into you and claim you as his time and time again is… irrepressible. In this moment, nothing else felt better than your little, used cunt hugging his cock so tightly that it almost hurts. He yearns to fill you over and over. Again and again until your womb is overflowing with his seed. The mere thought has his balls pulling tight to his body, firming up by the second all just to flood your womb again.
“Muntxate [wife].” Ralak growls into your neck, sliding his hand down to your inner thigh. “I will try to be–” He groans slowly, his pointer finger now burrowing itself between your tied pelvises, “–flrr [gentle].”
The final accented word comes out roughly, and if it weren’t for his finger slipping past his knot and into your cunt, you would’ve probably heard it clearly. You yelp out when he traces his finger around his knot, stretching your already taut skin, attempting to work a little space to allow his bulge to slip out.
It's all consuming and you’re simply too overwhelmed with his size that you fail to realise how your body is synced with his and bearing down to push him out. All whilst he’s struggling to fight the snap of hips to avoid hurting you. But the tugging is nothing like you’ve felt before adn you can finally understand why he was so insistent in the first place.
ut there was no getting out of this now, not that you even wanted to.
“It–it’s…” You brace yourself by grabbing onto his forearm, “...t-too big.”
“Ngaytxoa [sorry]” He huffs out his fourth apology, losing himself once again as his hips finally jerk back out of his control.
Pop.
His knot slips out of you with such force that the squelch it makes is as loud as your whimper. It’s so wet and slippery that his cock follows behind his knot, sliding out of you effortlessly. He’s more than half-hard yet so heavy and hung it rests close to your knee. Then you feel it. His cum dribbling down your thigh, still warm and sticky as if he just filled you up seconds ago.
It’s such a conflicting feeling — a mixture of relief and pent up frustration. Your heat is still in full bloom, despite it being so quenched until you’re almost nauseated. It’s as if you were two pieces perfectly linked together, allowing nature to run its course with no second thought. He grunts when he feels the crisp night air against his groin, his cock now springing up to its full length in just a few seconds.
He, too, feels some sort of feverish way now. Itching to be back inside your warmth, enveloped by your gummy, slimy walls. He opts to pepper wet kisses along your neck, and then up to your jaw, lingering there as he tries to distract himself from the ache to shove it back inside you.
Until it becomes too much.
“Tanhì.” He moans into your ear, heavy lidded eyes struggling to stay open as his tongue trails the skin on the back of your neck. “Need you.” It’s his way of begging for permission. Permission to slam his cock back inside you and hammer into you until the annoying itch deep in his core goes away again. You were the only one to make it go away. To stop the hurt. “Please.” He whines out a plea of desperation, now gritting his teeth from the way his stomach is tensing. “Now.”
But that last plea wasn’t much of a question, no. It was more of a demand. A way of saying, ‘give it to me, or I’ll take you on my own terms’.
“Fuck.” You mumble under your breath, sliding your free hand down your side to hook it under your leg. You pull it back and reposition your hips to give him access to your cunt. “P-Put it in, ‘Lak.”
Ralak’s hips begin to stutter — the leaking, mushroomy tip of his cock now repeatedly prodding between your puffed up folds. His breath turns raggedy as he tries to guide himself back inside you handsfree. Your slick is overflowing, making it even more difficult for him to align himself with your entrance. The frustration brewing within him bubbles over when his cockhead glides past your swollen clit instead of sinking in your cunt. So he pulls back in one swift move and —
Thrust.
Your body jolts from how quickly he slams every inch of his cock inside you, forcing you split-open. Ralak huffs a shaky sigh of relief, his breathing growing a little steadier now that he’s deep inside his mate. Meanwhile, your mouth hangs agape yet no sound falls from your lips. Your eyes well up with tears and your ears lay flat against your skull. Your body is in complete submission to the beast dominating it and there’s nothing else you can do but give in to the pleasure.
“Your scent.” He whispers open-mouthed, tips of his canines grazing the nape of your neck. “It is driving me crazy.” You release the breath that you didn’t even realise you were holding. You didn’t even know what to say. Not like you could really say much right now anyways. You’re too lost in the fog of your own heat. For once, Ralak is doing most of the talking. “It makes me…” He snaps his hips back, only leaving half of his length inside you. “...lose myself completely.”
A deep roll of his hips.
A lewd moan dripping off your lips.
“How do you do that?” He huffs, pressing his teeth against your neck. You don’t answer yet again. You just can’t find the words. Not right now. Not when he’s so deep inside you. “Hm?” A deep growl vibrates up his throat, his teeth just barely piercing the first layer of your silken skin.
“I—” You’re cut off by your own squeal when you feel the sting of his bite. Your breath catches in your throat and he immediately unlatches, lapping at the nicked skin to soothe it. “Sorry.” He whispers breathlessly, planting a quick kiss on each of your marks. “Sorry. Sorry.” A few more apologies flow from his mouth, as if he were drunk off of too much fermented fruit. Somewhat lucid but still so spaced. “I cannot —ngh— help myself.”
Thrust.
“‘M sorry.”
He knows he went a little too deep just now. But you feel so fucking good around his cock.
Chomp.
Another mark. Right on the bend of your shoulder, next to your first.
“Ngaytxoa [I’m sorry]”
A small cry from your quivering lips.
“S-Stop. No more apologies. I am yours to do what you p-please with.” You finally get out in one, weary breath.
Ralak’s languid, deep thrusts are laced with desperation. And with each stroke they become harsher and harsher. Faster and faster. Now he’s got your full permission he lets go once more, falling into the thick fog of his rut.
Within seconds his cock is pumping in and out of you, his half-deflated knot continuously prodding and poking at your entrance. The tip of his cock drags against your walls, putting an immense pressure right on your sweet spot. Yet still, sounds barely fall from your flushed lips. You’re too out of it. Too focused on the raw sensations rippling through you all at once. His overwhelming pheromones. His marking. His relentless pounding.
Rather, hot tears well over your eyes and stream down your face.
He can’t stop slamming himself inside you. He doesn’t want it to stop. It’s absolute rapture and he’s unapologetically drowning in it.
“Tanhì. Tanhì.” He groans needily. “y/n.”
He only says your name when he’s serious about something.
And hearing it drip from his tongue onto the nape of your neck has your hairs standing high and your clit throbbing.
“Eywa. Yes, ‘lak? T-Tell me what you need.” You blubber out, tightening your grip on his forearm.
“Haa — spread yourself.” He demands, prompting you to tuck your leg back as far as you can. His pace quickens, hips striking you with a sinful vengeance. But no matter how hard he fucks you, or how deep he buries himself inside you — its just not enough. He needs to be closer. To be deeper. To really be inside you. To knot you.
“More.” He grunts, slowing his thrusts into rocking, grinding himself inside your slippery, tight cunt.
You go to tug at your leg and meet nothing but resistance. “I-I’m trying.” You can feel it now. Perhaps it’s the bond or maybe it’s the way his knot is working you open but he’s growing more and more frustrated by the thrust.
“Mmmh. Wider.”
“I can’t. I can’t.” You’re quick to answer, feeling nothing but pressure from the way he’s trying to shove more of himself inside you.
“Agh.” He growls in frustration, pulling out of you and grabbing you by the ankle to flip you onto your back.
Ralak situates himself between your legs without hesitation and pushes them so far back your knees graze against the tips of your ears. You can barely breathe in this position and are having a hard time seeing anything else but his raging cock at your entrance. You can feel the burn in your thighs from how far back he’s shoving your knees but that sting is masked by the pleasure of him plunging himself back into your pussy.
The moan that rips from your lips is obscene and like no other. The crown of his cock is drilling itself directly into your sweet spot, causing it to swell with unadulterated pleasure. And each time he pulls out just to sink it back inside you he winds you in the process – making you sputter out absolute nonsense. Even he knows you're close, despite being in the thick of his rut.
But frankly, he doesn't care.
All he’s concerned about is satisfying his own urges.
“Not enough.” He grits through his teeth as his eyes shift to an even deeper shade of mauve. “‘ts not enough.” He pants, voice laced with something of worry. Panic that this feeling won’t go away. It makes you panic too, wondering if you’re doing enough for him. If he’s going to take even more from you. If you can manage it.
“You’re okay. Do what you need.” You try to reassure him, grasping your feet and holding them back–opening yourself up even more. But fuck, that only made things worst for you.
And by worst, you mean better. It feels like you’ll burst any second now, especially with how much pressure is on your bladder. “Fu-ck me. God, fuck–ahaa-fuck me.”
His brows bunch together as he peers down at you, beads of sweat rolling off his face to drip onto your chest. His jaw is so tense it looks as if it may fracture. He’s grunting with every push and huffing with every pull.
“Right there! Fuck. I’m close. I’m so fucking close. I-I need you to cum i-inside me. Oh—please ‘lak. Please!” Your cries are choked and muffled, breaths short and raggedy. The heat pooling in your core is unbearable. It needs out. Now.
Ralak swallows. Hard. Through his own haze he can see that you’re in need too. He shuffles closer to you, tucking his feet under him to assume a squatting position. Now he’s all but on top of you, folding you into a merciless mating press. This one shift in position has you coming undone on his cock, coating it in your thick slick as you sob from the white hot pleasure. The force of your climax has you pushing him out and only has him drilling himself further inside you. If it’s not for the way your pussy walls tighten around him surely his knot would have popped inside you by now.
He’s still fucking into you, right through your orgasm and towards his.
“Say what you need.” He panics through a tightened jaw, grinding himself inside you – pushing his knot against the resistance.
You know what he’s actually asking from you. To say something. Anything to tip him over the edge. To rid him of this maddening itch.
“Breed me.” You whisper, locking eyes with him. You watch as his pupils blow into thin rings and then constrict into nothing but dots. You try to swallow what spit you could, attempting to clear your throat. “Breed me. Please.”
“Then take it.” He lets loose a sinister growl, putting all his weight into his final push. For the first time, you feel his knot pop inside you, veiny and as thick as can be. You let out a high-pitched whimper, and feel your teeth begin to chatter. That doesn’t make him ease up, though. He continues to grind himself inside you until you feel the familiar, warm sensation of his sticky seed spraying inside you – filling your womb to the brim. His cock throbs wildly, in perfect synchrony with his own heartbeat, and soon yours too as the bond equilibrates your souls once more.
Strangely, you thought you’d be sore and overstimulated by now, but your body has never felt better. You’re full and content and more than satiated. Ralak heaves a sigh — one of pure relief. It’s glued to his face. All panic washes away and he’s feeling more at peace the longer he remains inside you. He’s rigid, firmly holding his position on top of you — ensuring he empties every single drop inside you. Yet, his heavy lidded eyes begin to close.
“I can’t breathe.” You mumble, snapping him out of his tranquil trance. His eyes meet yours and the corner of his mouth pulls into a little smirk. He exhales a breathy chuckle and carefully manoeuvres you both into a more comfortable position. He settles himself on his back and supports your body whilst positioning you on top of him.
“Better?” Ralak husks, drawing circles into your back with the tip of his finger.
You take a deep breath, filling your lungs to full capacity and then slowly release it. “Much.”
“Nga yawne lu oer [I love you]” His accented words slur together as he dozes off.
“Nga yawne lu oer, Ralak [I love you].”
——
Ralak woke repeatedly throughout the night for his fill. If it wasn’t him, it was you. Waking up in a clammy state, shaking and nuzzling into his chest from your heat. You honestly thought that the more time passed — the more rounds you went — the more he would calm down.
But, you thought wrong.
He’d start by leaving tender kisses wherever he could, whispering he’d do his best to be as gentle as he can be. Then, he’d slip a finger inside you, stretching you out in attempts to pull his knot out without hurting you. But it would always sting, even just a little bit. After that he’d beg. Pleading with you to let him back in, and apologize right after plunging inside you regardless of your answer—which was always yes.
At this point your own foggy haze would take over. Perhaps it was your body’s way of coping with the overstimulation, but you pined for every single second of it. Sometimes it would last for a few minutes. Where he’d be quick to fold you in two and growl in the shell of your ear, ‘you’re mine, haah — fuck, take me’.
Sometimes it was closer to an hour. Where you’d both be so tired you’d take breaks, lazily taking turns fucking each other, telling him to ‘put it back in’ whenever he’d slip out. But one thing remained the same every time. You’d sob when you’d cum and then beg him to breed you. And he would, without a doubt, breed you.
Mercilessly.
And with each breeding, he’d lose himself a little deeper. Knotting you over and over. Marking you repeatedly until your body’s littered with bites. Until you were so fucked out you’d lost the feeling in your legs. Until your throat was so dry you could barely speak. Until you needed a break.
——
“Wait.” You crawl towards the bedside table with wobbly knees. “Just need some water, Lak.”
Ralak pounces on you, knocking you onto your stomach and pressing himself against you. You extend an arm out, fingers splayed out and shaking from you trying to reach the cup of water Ka’ani left there more than a day ago. Ralak grabs your hips and hoists you up onto your knees and elbows, and mounts you from behind.
“Water. Water, Lak.” You beg with a hoarse cry, only for him to line the crown of his cock up with your sopping cunt. He growls next to your ear as he stretches over you and reaches for the cup of water, filling his cheeks and putting it back down within a couple seconds. With a quick grip of your jaw, he turns your head and meets his lips with yours.
Before you can process what’s going on you’re gulping down water as fast as you can. And when he pulls away, you’re yet again met with the hazy eyes of his rut. That’s when it dawns on you that whilst your heat is coming to an end, his rut is only getting stronger.
Rather than looking away, he locks his gaze onto you, just so he can watch your face screw as he slams his cock inside of you in one, hard thrust. It works a sudden, breathy moan from your mouth, eyebrows pinching together from the stretch. He holds his position, basking in the warmth and tightness of your cunt as his breath goes shaky.
“Wait.” You mumble weakly, shoving a hand behind you to push against his lower stomach. “Please.”
For the first time, you were telling him to stop.
His jawbone flutters as his eyes search yours. Restraint plasters to his face, and the only audible thing is his heavy breathing. He nods. Just once. A firm and intentional nod. He swallows the residual water left in his mouth and tenderly pulls out of you. You hear the thud of his footsteps quiet down as he nears the marui door, and then the splash of the water when he dives into the rough sea.
It’s pouring outside.
Storming, actually. Thundering and lightning. Yet he feels this is the only way he’d be able to resist the urge to storm back in and fuck you. But the instinct to protect his mate, even if it’s from himself, is more than enough to give him the willpower to walk away.
You take this moment to just breathe, turning your head to face the plush bed beneath you as you gather your thoughts. Did he just show that much restraint? Enough to walk away from a female na’vi during her heat cycle… all whilst in the height of his own rut cycle?
“Lekye’ung [insane]” You mutter, using your trembling hand to grab and bring the cup to your lips. They, too, are sore and chapped. Having gone so many hours without any food or water, you knock it back, shaking the cup to get out every drop. Finished already? You think to yourself, looking inside the cup with hazed vision, confirming it’s indeed empty.
After setting it back down onto the table, you slump back into the bedhead, relaxing your body. You’re sore. Actually, sore is an understatement. Every single muscle and fiber in your body burns—and that isn’t entirely due to your heat either now that it’s finally subsiding. Perhaps you should be taking this time to have a look at your… condition, but you’re finding it harder and harder to keep your eyes open.
So you give in, sinking further and further into the bed as you doze off.
—
A few hours go by and Ralak returns with a net of fish thrown over his shoulder and a bucket of fresh water perched on his hip. He carefully sets down the bucket and rests the net next to the fire pit. He’s cautious not to wake you, nor come too close to you. Ralak ignites the fire and fans the flame. As quietly as possible, he prepares and cooks the fish, setting them aside to wrap in the leaves of a spartan tree.
Since coming to Awa’atltu, one of your biggest adjustments—despite the obvious—has been your change in diet. Fish weren’t uncommon back home, but they certainly weren’t the main source of food. You prefer the other foods here, your favourite being what you call ‘inland boar’, which is an animal that resembles what your father calls a ‘pig’ from his star.
But not even that, (boar) could smell better than this (fish).
The aroma alone rouses you from your sleep.
Your eyes open to a dark room and a glowing fire pit. The fire is out but the wood remains hot, shifting among different shades of orange and red. Ralak sits beside it, with his back leaning against the support beam of the pod. His arms are crossed over his chest and his knees are slightly bent. It’s hard to see more than just his silhouette with the lack of moonlight.
“That smells good.” You rasp. Ralak’s eyes fly open to reveal a familiar shade of deep blue. Like the sea. They glow and flicker before you, examining you now that you’re sitting up out of bed.
Crack.
A bolt of lightning strikes in the distance, illuminating the room. For a moment, you were able to see every single bike mark, scratch and bruise you’ve given him. It also reveals that he’s shaking. Trembling from being wet and cold, or possibly from the strain he was putting himself through from just being in the same room as you.
Ralak moves quickly, shuffling to his feet and going right for the leaf that holds a few sloppily rolled fish. He brings it to you, setting it slowly on your lap, being overly cautious not to touch you. Grabbing your cup on the table, he dunks it in the bucket and sets it beside you.
“Eat.” He whispers, backing away to sit next to the pit. You watch as he slides down the beam and into a sitting position, and then glance down at your food. Saliva pools in your mouth from the aroma wafting up your nose.
You’re hungry.
“Thank you.” You say quietly, hastily stuffing an entire roll into your mouth.
You moan as you chew, nodding your head from how good it tastes. It’s hard to swallow, given that you bit off more than you could chew—literally—but when it finally goesdown you feel your stomach grumble for more. Ralak watches you intently. A wince screwing his face with every swallow he witnesses. And when you finish, you chug down your water and wipe your mouth with the back of your hand.
Another crack of lightning strikes, and then a low, lengthy rumble of thunder follows.
“That was… one of the best you’ve made, lak.” You say with a wobbly smile, slowly getting on your feet to wash your hands. The bucket is nearby your mate, who is still fixed in position. Although he remains unmoving, his eyes follow your every move. You shake your hands to dry them and shuffle over to Ralak and sit next to him.
“so… how do you feel?” You ask quietly, raising your hand to check if he’s feverish. He turns his head before your hand can make contact with his skin and his gaze locks onto the charred wood in the fire pit.
“Fine.” Ralak mutters.
Eyebrows pinching in confusion, you tilt your head to try and look him in the eye. Your brows relax when you come to the realisation that he’s already taken care of himself. And only Eywa knows how many times.
“You know, you didn’t have to do that. I would have—”
“Ma’ muntxate [my wife]”He croaks, swiftly turning his head to look directly into your eyes. “Oeru txoa livu [please forgive me].”
“Txoa? [forgive?] What for, ma’ muntxatan? [husband]”
“I have… neglected you.” He’s struggling to speak. You can hear it in the strain of his voice.
Regardless, none of his words are really making any sense to you right now. How has he been neglectful? Despite the circumstances, it’s obvious he’s been trying his hardest to be good to you. Somehow, even conjuring up the strength to pull out of you and walk away.
“Ralak. You have not. Please, I—”
“Look at yourself.” He snaps, taking a quick glance at your body before dropping his head in his hands.
Crack.
Conveniently, another strike of lightning and boom of thunder, revealing exactly what he’s talking about. For a few seconds, you’re met with the sight of your battered body—scabbed and bruised. You lift your head, staring at his shameful demeanour. But the more you stare, the more you see your own reflection.
“And have you looked at yourself?” Your words bounce as you shuffle closer to him. “I bet you can’t even feel all that damage I’ve done to you.” You coo, using your thumb to gently graze past an easy six-inch scratch mark on his bicep. “I haven’t been so gentle with you either.”
Ralak shakes his head, allowing it to sink further into his hands. “You were starved.” He mumbles into the palms of his hands.
You sigh, pulling your knees to your chest and resting your chin in the dip between them. Your eyes wander over to the fire pit, catching sight of the outline of a few fish rolls.
Has he really punished himself by not eating?
“Have you eaten?” You ask, resting a gentle hand on his back.
“No need.”
“You should, you know. Don’t want you starving on me, lak.” You say lightheartedly, allowing your hand to slide up his spine and to the base of his skull.
He lets loose a quiet groan, fighting the twitch of his ears. Your fingers smooth over the base of his kuru, playing with the braid encasing that covers it. “If you do that—”
“Do what?” You whisper coyly, quickly running your hand down the length of his kuru.
His spine immediately straightens, his head lifting from his hands. The tips of your fingers gently make their way to his tendrils, carefully teasing them as they try to wrap around your digits. He sucks in a sharp breath and closes his eyes, allowing a shiver to run through him. It feels like your fingers were inside his skull, tickling his brain in the best way possible.
Reaching for your kuru with your free hand, you bring it up and over your shoulder. You lean into Ralak, your lips only inches away from his. You pull away your fingers to grip and pull his queue forth. The loss of contact has him sitting up straight, opening his eyes to look at you.
“I will not let you suffer alone.” You whisper, lessening the distance between the two of you, tilting your head to the side ever so slightly. He stills himself, even limiting his own breath so as not to make any sudden moves. “Okay?”
You wait for just a moment. For him to say something. To move away. But he remains stock-still, waiting for you to initiate this. You smile, your top teeth briefly rubbing against this lower lip, and lock your lips with his. He exhales through his nose, coming to life from your kiss and returning it full force. You take this as a good sign. A sign that you’ve broken through that wall once again, and bring your kurus together — making tsaheylu [the bond].
Both your eyes fly open, blown pupils staring into one another as your spirits unify. You both pull back, shoulders and chests heaving from your quick, unsteady breaths. You feel all that he feels – the frustration, the panic, the tension. It’s all fading, now finally nearing the end. He feels your subsiding heat, your soreness, your overpowering urge to care for him.
Before another second could pass, your lips crash into each other again—tongues intertwining as they explore one another’s mouth. Using his hand to support your upper back, he slowly lowers you onto the woven floor, parting your legs with his free hand. He situates himself between them, pressing his crotch firmly against yours. He’s warm, just like the toasty fire pit next to you.
I will try to be gentle. Ralak thinks to you, just like he’s been promising to be night after night.
I know you will. You smile, moving your kisses down his jawline as he slides his hands between your sticky pelvises.
——
It hasn’t even been two full weeks since the synchronous heat that had you and your mate locked away in your marui pod for a little over two days. Your back and thighs–and honestly everywhere else– still ache but outside of that, you feel like a brand new person. You weren’t able to confidently say that Ralak feels the same way, however.
Of course, he was adamant on limiting intimacy until you were ‘healed and recovered’. But, he had a bounce in his step. As if he were physically lighter. As if the weight of six years of pent up sexual frustration and self neglect melted off his back when you satiated the ‘insatiable’.
The constant aftercare was almost sickening. Even after most of your marks had faded he remained adamant on treating them with your own omaticayan herbs from back home. He praised them at every use, thanking your people for making such exceptional ’umtsa [medicine].
But as you entered the second week, after tons of reassurance, things dissipated and went back to normal. Ralak went back to his usual routine—fishing, hunting, responding to a few calls to Tonowari and your father. Ralak, without a doubt, made a vow to you and himself not to initiate anything until you were more than healed. But nonetheless clung to you in the nights.
He even, in fact, added a new step into your usual nighttime regimen. As usual, it began with the snuggles and tucking you under his arm just right, providing you with enough warmth to endure the cool night air. Then, he would release the perfect amount of pheromones to get you drowsy enough for bed.
But recently, he’s spent the past seven nights delaying the nightly routine until he’s had his fill of your scent. He’d lay himself down on your chest, nuzzling his face into your bosom and just breathe. You allowed it, thinking it was his own newfound way to wind down for bed.
Yet, the real reason was much different.
——
Right on the two week mark, Tsireya had roped you in with helping her with some of her Tsakrem duties. You were always happy to help her though, as it meant getting away from the marui pod for a little even if it meant being poked and prodded at.
And it certainly didn’t take long for that to happen.
Tsireya lets out a frustrated sigh and plops the medicinal pouch she’s weaving in her lap. “I can no longer ignore it, y/n. You smell different.”
You lift your head, tearing your focus from your task of weaving and look at her with a puzzled expression on your face. You bring the end of your tail to your nose and sniff, but smell… nothing. “Like what?” Her brows lower and her eyes glisten with concern. She purses her lips and unsheathes the lengthy pin from its casing and grabs your hand. “Here we go.” You mutter to yourself, squeezing your eyes shut as you anticipate the sting.
Prick.
“Sss—ah! You need to be careful with how deep you go with that, you know. You could really—” The tsahik in training puts the wooden stick to her tongue and stares at you wide eyed, mouth agape. It’s as if she wants to speak but the words are lodged in her throat. “What? What is it?”
“You—perhaps I am wrong.” She stutters, quickly sheathing the tool back into its casing. “You should see my mother, y/n.”
“What? Why? Just tell me.” The words come out in a haste, and your voice is laced with panic. Do you have some sort of disease of the sea? Is there a cure?
“You — you are with child.” Her lips tremble as she says the words in an uncertain tone of voice.
“What?” You stare at her dumbfounded, a little caught off guard by her choice of words.
“Pregnant. You’re pregnant. But I am likely mistaken. I am only in training. Which is why I said you should see my moth—”
“Oh. No. You’re… you’re probably right, Tsireya.” You swallow the spit pooling in your cheeks, avoiding eye contact.
“H-How? I mean. I know how. But how? Surely Ralak knows not to do such a thing during your heat. He can control himself. R-Right?”
“Right. If I were the only one… in heat.” You say the last few words under your breath, fixing your shawl before picking back up your task.
“What do you mean?” Tsireya leans in with a tilted head, looking a little closer at your covered shoulder. “Did you help him with his rut?” Tsireya asks bluntly. “He’s been unmated for six years, y/n. Did you reall—”
“I am his mate. Of course I did.” You nearly snap, baffled by the tone she’s having with you.
“H-How did that even work?” Tsireya shakes her head, slowly raising her hand towards you.
“What is that supposed to mean?” You finally lift your head to shoot her a puzzled, yet offended stare. “It worked like it would for any other Na’vi.”
“Y/n…” Tsireya quickly grabs your shawl, pulling it off your shoulder to reveal a large, deep and scabbed up bite mark. It looks almost infected because of the strange omaticayan herbal concoction smeared over it. “You should have just let him ease you into it. Look at you, you’re all bruised and—”
“Tsireya.” You interject, “thank you for the concern, but—” you aggressively pull up your shawl, “I feel just fine. Besides, being in heat was the best way to ‘ease me into it’…He was as gentle as he could be.” You mutter, twiddling with the twine as you think back to the way he tried to handle you with care.
“By the looks of it, he was anything but gentle with you.” Tsireya seethes, angry that the man she grew up looking at like a brother would do something like this to you.
You wince at her words. They’re like a knife to the heart.
A long, awkward silence fills the space between you and Tsireya. She reflects on everything she’s said, realising that perhaps she was a little more harsh than needed. She softens her gaze, “I’m sorry. I should not have said that. I just hate seeing you hurt.”
“I get it. I know you’re just looking out for me. It’s alright, ‘reya.”
You exchange lighthearted smiles.
“You are definitely pregnant then. After six years, he must have really filled you—”
“Tsireya!” You laugh, giving her shoulder a light shove.
Tsireya’s grin morphs into a more serious expression. “See mother to make sure. Okay?”
Your smile also fades into something softer as you nod your head in agreement. “Okay.”
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Ralak te Sepwan ieyk’itan: Chapter Two
An Illustrated Collaboration with @zestys-stuff
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 creator @zestys-stuff.
Characters: Metkayina!Ralak (24) x Sully!Omaticaya!Reader (19)
Warnings: nsfw, smut, fluff, angst, profanity, age gap, a lot of sexual tension, size difference/kink, praise kink, heat cycle, scenting, fingering, thigh grinding, cumshot, blood/wounds, recollection of non-con trauma (not heavily described - purely for the plot), let me know if i forgot anything?
Word Count: 8k
Requested: Yes || No
Author’s Note: Satisfaction - Benny Benassi fully took me through this fic. This one's long. It's got fluff, angst, and smut in it. So buckle up. I hope you guys enjoy 🤍
Synopsis: Your family seeks uturu with the Metkayina in the village of Awa’atlu. You have a difficult time adjusting, and are assigned your own special teacher, Ralak.
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Lessons were productive and frequent. You saw him almost daily, except on the days that Tonowari recruited him for his duties as warrior and hunter. Those were the days you dreaded most. The days when he’d traipse in exhausted and banged up. The days that made you start carrying your medicine pouch on your hip like it was a part of your body.
Days like today.
Ralak walks in moments before the eclipse, jaw clenched with a stagger in his step. You can sense the fracture in his spirit, another unpleasant hunting trip further inland. The gash in his shoulder is evidence of it. You rush over to him, hand firmly gripping your medicine pouch.
“Ra-lak!” your words come out broken, voice bouncing with each thud of your feet.
“It is fine.” he begins, head dropping to hide his grimace.
“It is not. Tonowari asks too much of you.” you huff, running over to him so fast you nearly bump into him. “Oh, Eywa. Look at you.” you tippy toe, eyes franticly scanning his bruised torso, hands doing their mighty best to move his body to have a better look.
“I said, it is –”
“Oh, Ralak.” you cut him off, grazing a finger over the inflamed skin, making his teeth grind even harder.
“I’m fine. It is just a –”
“Just. Shh. Let me look... let me help you.” you shush him, your other hand brushing over the deep scrapes on his chest.
It’s laughable that he has to hunch his back just for you to have a proper ‘look’. But you didn’t find it funny. Your brows gather tightly at the sight, bottom lip quivering from the mix of emotions surging through you – anger, sadness, concern. Your innocent touches makes blood rush to his face, staining his cheeks a light tinge of pink. His heartbeat quickens - breath deepening.
His eyes remain locked onto you, quietly admiring your beauty. The way your nose scrunches, the little canines chewing on your bottom lip – the heave of your chest. He didn’t mean to let his eyes wander so low, but now that they were there, he couldn’t resist the urge to stare a little longer. To count the beads on your top.
To count the droplets of water trickling between your breasts.
You scoop up a glob of yalnabark, an omaticayan herb you saved for special times like this, and smear it on his chest. The sudden sting brings him back, snapping his gaze up to your screwed face of concern. It warms his heart, just like it did every time he’d come back from a hunting trip a little too banged up. He loved the way you took care of him. The way your small, gentle hands caressed his battered body with whatever smelly concoction you had stowed away in your pouch.
It's all he’s ever craved. Someone to take care of him. To cherish him. To love him. A simple life, in his marui pod he built with his two hands. Big enough for him and his mate, in front of the ocean so that he could fish in the mornings and then bond with his mate in the evenings. Where he could provide for his mate. For his family. To protect.
A mundane life to many, but a perfect life to him.
But rather, he has been recruited by the olo’eyktan himself, to be his right-hand man, to help lead and teach the upcoming hunters and warriors. He yearns for his old life as a fisherman. Simple. Humble. But shortly after a run in with another clan, Tonowari made the order, and Ralak obeyed. It was at that point in his life that he relinquished his dream of a mundane life.
There’s a part of him, a part that he’s denied attention since he came to adulthood, that yearns for someone like you. Yearns for the possibility that you can provide this simple life for him. A mate. A home. Children. His heart gallops in his chest, slamming against his ribs, but you wouldn’t even know. Not by the way he’s looking at you. But there was one thing he knew for sure, and that was –
His feelings for you are indubitable.
“It is just a scratch.” he says softly, finally finishing his sentence. His hand instinctively rests on your hip as yours search his body for more wounds to smear the herbal concoction on.
“A scratch?” you huff a sigh, beady eyes boring into his before landing on the open gash in his shoulder. Blood trickles down his arm, staining the dark ink pricked under his skin. “You are bleeding. A lot.” you pout, glossy, amber saucers for eyes staring up at him, “…that must really hurt, karyu.”
He crumbles under your touch, gaze softening and body relaxing into you even more. “Do what you need, paysyul [water lily].”
That’s a new one. You smile to yourself and begin cleaning the open wound.
----
Funnily, the only thing you had left to master before your iknimaya was the sign language of the sea people. The ‘finger talk’. Perhaps it was because you had an extra finger, but you found it difficult to create and string together all the signs. Ralak determined that you would need an entire week to learn it, which you couldn’t help but scoff at.
But, he just didn’t want to let go of you so soon.
It was the only thing you practiced outside of the water. It was a refreshing change, to feel the fine, pillowy sand between your toes. To not be wet all the time with hair clung onto your skin. Undoubtedly, it was also easier to focus when this man didn’t have his loincloth stuck to himself, thick bulge on full display.
Most of the days began with you prancing on over, and him guiding you to the pit of sand right outside his marui. Bringing you to your knees with a slight tug of your arms, then kneeling with you. And soon you would be facing one another, in comfortable silence, staring into each other’s eyes. It seemed to be his favourite part of the day. To watch you be brought to your knees in front him, even if its only for a split second before he joined you.
He took each day slowly, starting with the most basic signs. Going over them twice. Thrice. Just to ‘make sure’ you knew them. By the middle of the week, he established his first rule. No talking. From the hellos to the goodbyes, everything must be signed. And if you spoke in casual conversation, he would not answer. This made it even more difficult to poke your figurative finger at him. To find out more about this man before you had to part ways. You did your best to abide by this rule, until you couldn’t ignore the itch anymore.
So, you scratched it.
--
Ralak balls his fist in the middle of his chest, extending it outwards as he opens it and wiggles his fingers.
“Thank you!” you blurt out, straightening your spine and smiling wide.
Ralak gives you a firm nod, quick to move to the next sign. He sweeps his hands away from his forehead, extending them towards you.
“I see you” your voice fades, almost as if you were saying it seriously. Sensually.
He smiles a little, giving you another nod. A moment of silence fills the space between you two. A moment where he just stares, allowing his eyes to trail your body. The way your knees sink into the sand. Your small hands resting on your thighs. The flap of your loincloth draping between your legs. He wants to sign it back. So badly. But you were still his student. His numeyu [student].
He knew he could do it – maintain his composure, that is. Just until after your iknimaya at least. And then he would ask Jake and Tonowari for your hand. He’s patient. Confident in himself that he could do this. Which is why he had to get you out of the water for a while. To stop your breasts from bouncing with the tide, and your nipples from peeking through your beaded top.
“C’mon, give me something harder. I know those.” you break the silence, repositioning yourself in the dip of your feet.
Ralak blinks a few times, reentering his train of thought. He nods with a slight smile and raises both his arms, hands at ear level with his pointer fingers straightened in the air. He quickly brings them together, allowing for a little space between his fists. He cocks his brow, waiting for your answer.
“Siv-ako?” the word is broken, full of uncertainty.
“Ah. That’s a good girl.” he speaks for the first time, voice extra husky and gruff. He couldn’t fight it – the urge to praise you. Honestly, he’s having a hard time fighting a lot of his ‘urges’ today. He takes a deep breath, hoping to recenter himself, but it only seems makes things worse – making him light in the head.
Oh? Good girl?
The words echo in your skull, heart beating a thump too quick. You can’t stop rub of your thighs; they’re doing it all on their own. You hide your flushed face, looking down at how your lap squirms about, only making your cheeks hotter. Your body seems to be extra sensitive today, skin prickling at the slightest touch – the mere sound of his voice.
“Ralak.” you practically pant, raising your head to look at him. ‘What is the sign for m-a-t-e?’ you sign, fingerspelling the last word.
The glow in your cheeks is catching, heat spreading to the tips of his ears. He swallows thickly, taking quick, shallow breaths to prevent himself from becoming anymore light-headed. He signs a similar sign as ‘friends’, but instead of all four fingers, he uses only two [I made this shit up].
Your lips pucker in understanding as you nod slowly, holding your hands in the air, carefully creating the motions with your fingers. The figurative - or not so figurative anymore - finger comes out to play.
‘Do you have a mate?’ you sign.
He cocks a brow, ‘No’.
‘Why? Not hiding one in your marui?’ you sign back.
His brows gather, yet a smile creeps on his face. He’s impressed with you, signing so well for him. He entertains the conversation – your snarky comments – curious to see where you’re going with this. ‘No.’ he scoffs a little, shaking his head.
You stare at him in silence, waiting for the reason why.
He tilts his head, half lidded eyes turning beady. ‘My trust was broken.’
Your brows lower in inquisitiveness, or perhaps confusion. Maybe you misread what he signed. ‘Broken? Who?’ you sign, stressing on the ‘who’.
His eyelids flutter a little, chewing on the inside of his cheek as he huffs out a sigh. His way of expressing hesitation – uncertainty if he should open-up. To let you in. To tell you. You try reassuring him with your eyes, letting him know it’s alright to tell you. He briefly looks out to the horizon before looking back at you. His hands raise once more.
‘A woman who used me.’
You shake your head, unable to fully understand what he means. You understand the signs, but a woman using him? In what way? To carry her belongings? ‘Use you how?’
Now his true expression of hesitation comes forth. Flattened ears, slumped shoulders and brows so tightly pinched they may unify. If he told you, what would happen? Would you look at him the same? Would you accept his offer after your iknimaya? The event replays so vividly he feels like he’s back in the moment.
The moment where an older woman he trusted manipulated him into touching her, to fondle her, when he didn’t want to. When she made him feel like he had no other choice, like he couldn’t say no, or walk away. Young, naïve Ralak. At the merciless hands of her...
‘Heat’.
And just like that, his expert façade of indifference washes over his face. You can literally see him retreat, the crack in his spirit splitting further apart. Like recalling the memory put him back into the moment to feel the hurt of what he just signed.
Meanwhile, your gears were grinding twice as hard to figure out his single sign. You mirror the motion, fingers bending and overlapping slowly to figure it out. You couldn’t even guess. It looked nothing like any other sign you had seen before. Defeated, you shake your head and shrug your shoulders.
“I-I don’t understand, karyu.”
Eyelids fluttering momentarily, a blank stare bores into your eyes. “Heat.” he says the word whilst gesturing the sign. “She used me for her heat. Many years ago. I was... young.” he begins explaining, trying to maintain eye contact with you as it drifts down to your lap. 'Naïve' he signs the last word.
You hear the words he’s saying. ‘Used’, ‘Young’, ‘Naïve”.
Yet all you could feel was the fire in your own heart. A blaze so big, so menacing it spills over into your chest. Making it cave in on itself. Like hairline fractures are running through each rib, making the foundation of your chest crumble. Jagged edges impaling your heart, the fire spread throughout your entire being.
Why did it hurt so much to hear that this grown man had sexual experience? Why did your heart ache at the thought of him with someone else? Was he always this way? A man willing to calm any na’vi he encounters in heat?
It just slips out.
“So what? Any na’vi woman in heat that you come across gets your help?” you snap, eyes burning from the tears that threaten to fill them.
Eywa, that stung.
It stung this gentle giant so bad that he grimaces. Like really grimaces. His top lip twitches, seemingly from anger. Anger at himself for telling you. He grinds his teeth so hard he may chip one. His head drops, eyes slamming shut to focus on calming that budding tightness in his own chest.
“Y/n” he growls, one of the few times he’s called you by your name.
You’ve come to learn that it usually means he’s frustrated with you. How could he be frustrated with you? He had no right. You can’t hold back the scoff bubbling up your throat, the shake of your head and the roll of your eyes.
“I guess that means you’ll help me when I’m in heat then, won’t you?”
He chuckles under his breath, shaking his head as he finally shuffles to his feet. He towers over your kneeling frame now, exuding the same level of intimidation when you first met. He’s trying his hardest to hold his tongue, but the words slip off it so effortlessly.
“Have you even gotten your heat yet?” he asks patronizingly.
There the tears go, rolling down the swell of your cheeks. Of course, you hadn’t. You were a late bloomer in all aspects of life, even this one.
But why were you feeling so sensitive about all of this? So moody and vulnerable? To the point of tears and condescending comments. It’s silly, really. Prying your nose into this grown man’s life only to get upset with him when he lets you in. Like you were anything special to him for you to be feeling this way.
He had never seen you cry before. Not like this. It melts his hardened heart, softening his exterior with it. You’re still young, still learning. He had let his feelings get the best of him, allowing his composure to break down for a split second. It doesn’t help that he was quite literally looking down at you, towering over your tiny stature.
‘I’m sorry’, he signs. “I should not have said that.”
“Don’t be. You’re r-right. I haven’t.” you sputter, breath hitching from your crying. “Almost twenty with no heat. Just a big fuck up.” you stand on your feet, turning your heel to leave.
“You should not be walking by yourself right now –” he begins, walking towards you, but you only walk away faster. “Tanhì!” he calls, voice cracking.
You stop dead in your tracks and turn back to look at him, tears streaming down your face. “Don’t call me that, Ralak.”
Dark grey clouds crowd the sky, darkening the ambiance. He opens his mouth to speak when a clap of thunder pierces the air. The sound of distant rain grows louder. With his attention averted to the sky, you take your chance and run. All the way back to your family marui as fast as your two left feet can go.
Downpour.
So hard and heavy you can barely see where you’re going. It’s so foggy and hazy that you cross your fingers and hope the marui pod you’re walking into is your own. Yanking back the flap, you duck under the doorframe, dripping wet. Jake and Neteyam stop their dinner preparations and look at you. They see the tears streaming down your face.
“Babygirl?” Jake rushes to his feet, voice frantic.
“Is it Ralak?” Neteyam snarls.
“Just, leave me alone.” you spit, hiding away into your little corner, pulling back your privacy curtain. You slump into your bed, burying your face into the pillow you made from feathers, and cried your eyes out, listening to the pitter patter of the rain on the taut material of your marui.
How fucking embarrassing. You always fuck up, y/n.
How could you be so stupid? To think that there was meaning behind the nicknames, the hugs... the moments. He’s just a teacher trying to tutor his pupil. His pupil that could never get shit right. That’s why he was so patient. So sweet. It was all just an order given by the chief. Not only that, but you were wrong. Totally in the wrong to even ask him such a personal question. But to throw it in his face after he opened-up about it?
Eywa, y/n. You stupid girl.
You feel terrible. Guilt filling your stomach to the brim that you feel queasy. It’s an uncomfortable feeling. So uneasy that you feel like you may throw up. You curl into a ball, clutching your knees as you bring them to your chest to cry.
And cry. And cry. And cry.
Until your eyes are so puffy, so raw that you can barely see. Until there’s two of everything. Your head begins to pound. Thump. Thump. Thump. Your eyes and teeth pulse with it. Yet all that’s running through your mind is Ralak. Ralak. Ralak.
How you feel so bad about what you said, about what happened to him. Not giving him the chance to speak before jumping down his throat. After he’s been nothing but patient with you. Handling you with care and gentle hands. Encouraging you with his words, albeit few. Letting you in when he had built such a tall, thick wall.
Letting you touch him – touch his most intimate tattoo.
The way his core flexed to jerk his hips away from you. The sound of his grunts when he’s a little frustrated. Flustered. Especially when you tend to his wounds. When you run your fingers along his body, searching for more scrapes and ‘scratches’. The way he looks at you when he’s counting your freckles.
When he calls you tanhì.
Whenever the word slipped off his tongue, it always made your face hot. Just like now. Blushing at the mere thought. Cheeks heating up to a critical degree. Body heating up with it. It feels like you’re on fire – a scorching heat radiating from your core to your extremities. It feels like a fever dream.
Or perhaps it’s just a fever. Sick from the rain, as they would say. Making you shiver and shake, yet also kick off the sheet that’s covering your body. Maybe it was the swoosh of the heavy rain, but you couldn’t hear your own thoughts. All you wanted to do was to make things right. To apologize for your shitty behaviour.
You had to do it. Now.
A surge of good ol’ determination rushes through you, bringing you to your feet. You wipe the snot off your face and rush out the tent, Jake and Neteyam calling after you. Saying something about the eclipse beginning. A storm forming. You can’t really hear them. It’s all an echo, reverberating in your skull. You wave them off and make quick strides towards his marui.
You feel dizzy. Like the world is spinning around you but it didn’t matter. You’re too focused on making things right. Getting rid of this queasiness. Fixing the one good thing you had for yourself in this wetland. Sand spills between your toes, you can feel it. You’re here.
“Ralak!” you try to shout, only for it to come out as a hoarse cry. “Ralak!”
You look around through blurred vision, the ocean is empty. Of course, it is. The ripple of raindrops piercing the water, the furious push and pull of the tide, the waves that crash violently into the shore – it’s storming. Head snapping to the right, you find that his marui is dark, seemingly with nobody home.
Where is he?
Eyes falling on your own feet, you catch sight of deep footprints in the wet sand, leading inland under the tall mangroves. Tracking the impressions, you find yourself standing at the opening of a cave, tucked away deep into the webs of mangrove roots. A hidden spot, with a lake, lit up by the bioluminescent fauna stuck to the stalagmites hanging from the ceiling. When you see him, it’s like your vision clears. Crystal clear. He’s –
Bathing.
Standing thigh deep in the water, wet hair stuck to his chest. His bioluminescent freckles twinkle brightly, reflecting against the water’s surface. His ears are tucked in, relaxing against his skull, eyes lidded and heavy. Tattoos bold and prominent, they accentuate his muscular physique. Gravity of pandora in full motion, water droplets dribble down his body. Down his jaw. His chest. His stomach. His –
Oh, fuck.
You tell your eyes to move. To look away. Close. Anything. But they don’t. They stare. Taking in every detail of his thick, half-hard cock, partially submerged in the water. You come to the realization of how he never actually showed you his full tattoo, as the ends of it encircled the base of his length. Eywa, he’s huge. You swallow thickly at the sight, cheeks growing even hotter.
“Ralak.” a whisper parts your lips, eyelids fluttering wildly before you can pull your eyes away. “Sorry. I-I didn’t mean to interrupt.”
“No need.” he mutters, continuing his bath.
He knew you were standing there all this time. He could sense you. Smell you. And Eywa, it took every bone and fiber in his body to maintain the sliver of composure he has left. He isn’t shy about his body and honestly, didn’t mind if you saw.
He turns to you, flicking his gaze up to meet yours, pupils blown. “You should go home, y/n.” he says as calmly as he can.
“Ralak. I’m sorry for what I said to you. I had no right.” you say, turning your head to look away from his body. It only made things worse for you, making the wooziness unbearable. Making you struggle with your words. “I-I don’t know why I got so upset. I’m not sure –”
“You are sensitive right now. I am not... upset.” he states, accent thick as tree sap.
“What?” you blurt out, looking back at him as you walk into the cave.
Sensitive? What does he mean?
“Y/n. You should go home.”
Hearing your name makes your heart sink. You wish you never told him to stop calling you tanhì. “What do you mean?”
“Look. I am sorry about what I said to you, y/n. But you need to go home.” he says through gritted teeth, as if he were having a hard time withholding his 'anger'.
“No. No. Ralak. I-I’m sorry, too. I just – I want to make this right. I-I feel like I can’t even think clearly right now. But I know that I made a mistake. I’m sorry.” you blubber out, entering the water to walk closer to him.
“Y/n” he growls, stepping back a little. “Please. You said it yourself. You cannot think clearly.”
“Ralak.” you croak, tears welling up in your eyes once more.
Blown pupils peer down at you, eyelids so heavy they look like they may close. “Go.”
Your bottom lip trembles, heart aching from him shooing you away. It feels like your throat is closing, vision blurring so badly that you could barely see him. You try to say the words, only for them to catch in your throat.
‘I was jealous.’ you sign, tears flowing down your cheeks. ‘I was wrong. I am no one to you to be upset with you for being with another.’ you string the words together to the best of your abilities, unsure if they even make sense.
“Oh, y/n. It is not as you think. I have not... given myself to anyone.” he struggles to explain, the heat of your body transferring to his. “Please, do not cry.” his voice falters, brows lowering, blown pupils flickering as they search your puffy face.
Relief. Radiating through your body. Your body yearned for him now, more than ever. For him to be your first. For you to be his first. To mate.
“Then w-what?” the words dislodge from your throat.
“She took advantage of me. Coerced me. But never farther than this” he raises his hand, moving his fingers.
“Karyu. I’m so sorry. I-I would never –” you cry, gripping two of his fingers.
“Shh. It is alright. I’m sorry, too” he hushes you, bringing your hand to his chest.
“I feel so... so overwhelmed right now. I don’t u-understand it.” your teeth begin to chatter as you finally close the gap between your bodies, slumping into him for one of his hugs. “I think have feelings for my karyu.”
He embraces you, holding you close to his body. “And I have fallen for my numeyu” he chokes out, having a hard time catching his own breath.
Your head snaps up, glossy, panicked eyes glaring up into his. You have a hard time processing what he’s saying, all you can see is the strain on his face as he tries his hardest to remain calm.
“Mawey. Mawey [calm]. Everything is heightened for you now. You’re alright.” he hums shakily, rubbing your back.
“I feel... s-so weird, so hot.” you hiccup, taking those deep breaths that you normally take when you hug him, overfilling your lungs with his scent.
It smells so good today. So good you wish you could bathe in it. Coat your body in his scent. You rub your face into his chest, trying to smear it on your skin. It calms you down, steadying your galloping heart and slowing your shaky breaths.
“Tanhì.” he heaves a strained sigh, heavy lidded eyes squeezing tightly.
“Lak.” you breathe, body pressing into his.
“Do you want me to?” he whispers, arm snaking around your waist to bring you closer.
“Hm?” you purr into his chest, rubbing your thighs together.
“Do you want me to help you when you get your heat?” he gruffly pants the words.
This morning replays in your head. All the hurtful words you said to him and the question that came shortly after.
‘I guess that means if I’m in heat then you’ll ‘help’ me then, won’t you?’
“Yes, please.” you exhale, head nodding in his chest.
With that, he holds your trembling body closer, allowing himself to take a full breath, filling his lungs with your scent. Your pheromones. This is the first time he’s letting himself savour them. He’s been picking up your scent all day, trying his hardest not to give into his primal urges to scent you himself – to mark you as his. Eywa, it’s divine. It’s so sweet, and fruity. Nothing like the fruits of the sea.
His scent grows stronger, his body simply responding to yours. His pheromones make you feel feverish, skin prickling from the fingertips that graze your waist. Your heart thumps wildly between your ribs just as your double vision sets in. A sharp heat shoots down your spine, and pools in your core. Soon you’re panting and sweating in his arms, shaking uncontrollably as you squeeze your trembling legs tighter.
It frightens you.
“Ralak. I-I don’t know w-what’s – happening to me. What’s – what’s happening to me?” you blubber, voice full of panic.
“It is your heat, tanhì.”
“My h-heat?” you squirm in his chest, rubbing your body all over his – unknowingly scenting him.
“Mm-mhm.” he hums, fingers working at the knot of your loincloth. “Is this okay?”
“Yes. Yes.” you moan softly, legs parting to help him take the soddened cloth off you.
Once the knot comes undone, the cloth floats freely in the water, drifting away from you. In one swift movement, he lifts you up and wraps your legs around his waist. Another breathy moan parts your lips, your clit finally getting the attention it’s been swelling for. You instinctively cling on to him, snaking your arms around his neck.
He supports your body with one hand under your upper thigh, whilst his free hand cups the back of your head, fingers interlacing with your hair. For a moment, you both indulge yourselves in each other’s scent, rubbing your noses into one another’s neck. It’s almost suffocating. So suffocating that you both pull up simultaneously to gasp for air. Pupils completely blown, you stare into each other’s eyes, panting shakily – lips inching closer and closer together.
He lingers there, flushed lips parted, waiting patiently for your move. For your touch. For your command. You couldn’t take it anymore. The tension is strung too tight that you can feel it in your core, about to snap. Your foreheads touch, noses rubbing together, lips brushing against one another.
“Kiss me.” you mewl needily.
Before you know it, his lips crash into yours roughly, almost bruising them. He’s so hungry for you. For your touch. He’s wanted this for so, so long. Peak of your heat quickly approaching, he wills himself to regain his control. To take it easy with you on your first time.
“My paysyul.” he pants into your mouth, tongue swiping against your bottom lip before sucking it into his mouth.
You hum with fervour, allowing your tongue to explore his mouth – to intertwine with his. His fingers untangle from your hair, and cup your cheek, pulling you in closer to deepen the kiss. Soon you’re sharing the same breath, making everything even more hazy.
A large hand slides down your neck and grips it gently, earning him a sudden, breathy moan. Legs tightening around his waist, your hips stutter on their own, desperately trying to find something hump against.
Reading your needy body language, his hand quickly moves down your chest, pulling up one side of your beaded top to reveal your round breast and peaked nipple. He rolls it between his fingers as gently as possible, sending little shocks throughout your breast. The sensation sends your hips into a frenzy, gliding your clit back and forth over each ab muscle.
“Ugh – oh!” you cry out, jaw locking as your mouth hangs agape. Your wetness is overflowing, coating his stomach in a thick layer of slick. The jerk of your hips becomes easier, gliding up and down his stomach even faster. Your teeth click together, eyes watering as you desperately chase the budding feeling in your core.
The little, filthy sounds coming from your mouth only rile him up more, ebbing away more of his restraint. His cock springs up, swollen head smacking against your thigh, quick movements providing just enough friction on his tip, making his hips stammer too. Soon your bodies fall under the trance of your heat, desperately grinding into one another.
The urge to touch, no – to be inside you is overwhelming. He wants to know how your gummy walls feel around his cock. But he knows that your too small to take him, that he would have to stretch you out first. Prepare your little body so it wouldn’t hurt.
His hand works its way from your breast, down to your stomach where he lingers for some time. His fingers play in the dip of your navel as they slide between your sticky pelvis and his stomach, parting your folds carefully. Hips snapping back, you open yourself up to his touches, resting your chin in the dip of his collarbone.
“This okay?” he asks quickly, fingertips finding the bundle of nerves at the peak of your slit.
“Mm-mhm! Please -” you whine lengthily, frustration so pent up it leaves you breathless.
“Breathe, tanhì.” he hums, fingers rubbing tight circles into your clit.
You gasp for air, a cool sensation filling your lungs. It feels so good – so much better than the way you do it before you go to sleep. You try hard to focus on the budding feeling in your core, to chase it so you can finally know what an orgasm feels like. But this was just another thing that you struggled with.
“Used fingers before?” he huffs in your ear, sliding two fingers down to your entrance.
“T-tried it... once.” you admit timidly.
“How many?” he rasps, pulling a finger back into his palm, leaving only one to prod at your slit.
His strong scent disorients you, leaving you in such a befuddled state that you ignore his question and snuggle into the crook of his neck.
“Tell me, tanhì. Quickly.” he pants.
“One.” you mumble, grazing your canines on his pulsing throat as you suckle on his skin, leaving behind a bruise-like mark. Surely one of his is equivalent to almost two of yours. He knew that this was going to hurt if he didn’t take his time with you and let you fully adjust to something inside you.
“Tell me if you feel pain.” he grunts, sliding his finger inside you to the first knuckle. You let out a little whimper, walls clamping tightly around his finger. “Feel okay?”
You nod franticly, burying your grimaced face into his chest. “Mhmm.” You wiggle your hips, desperately trying to take more of him inside you. He follows your movements, ensuring not to slide it in any further just yet. “M-more please”
“Patience, tanhì”
You’ll admit, it burned a little. It was the biggest stretch you’ve had so far, but the slickness of your heat made it so that his finger slid in easily. “Please. It. It feels... feels weird, Ralak.”
“I know, I know.” he coos, feeling your walls relax around his knuckle. “I'm going to make it go away, take a breath for me.”
You inhale deeply, just as you would before a breathing lesson, holding it deep in your stomach rather than your chest. He slides his finger inside you to his second knuckle, keeping it there while you adjust some more. Your grip around his neck tightens, fingernails digging into his turquoise skin just as you release your breath - blowing hot air onto his chest. The way his finger stretches you out brings tears to your eyes. Tears of ecstasy - of satiation. Satiating an itch that you weren’t even aware of.
“More!” Desperation plagues your trembling voice.
He knows better than to listen to the words that come out your mouth and listen to what your body is saying to him instead. It’s not his first time dealing with a na’vi in heat, albeit by force. It feels so similar, the influence your heat has on him. But yours is so much more intense. Feelings of uncertainty creep in, muddling with all the other emotions he’s trying to deal with. He didn’t want to be used again.
She’s not her. He reminds himself, persevering through the hesitancy. “Ready?”
“Yes. Yes Ralak.” You hold on to him tighter - closer.
Your pheromones already had him in a trance, gritting his teeth just so he could maintain his composure. He’d never been influenced by pheromones like this - so strong and potent. Perhaps it’s because it’s your first heat, or maybe it’s because you’re the na’vi he has the urge to protect most – to mate with.
He finds himself taking deep, long breaths. The kind he takes before going spear fishing in the depths of the ocean. Your scent fills his head, making him woozy. Blood rushes to his face, turning it hot and flushed – stained with a tinge of pink. Oh, to make a gentle giant like Ralak blush.
He exhales as he gently slides the rest of his digit inside of your slippery pussy. You both groan in unison, just as your tightness clamps down around his finger - your nails scraping down his back. You’re so, so wet that your glossy, slick coats his knuckles, dribbling down his hand to his wrist.
“Shit.” he lets out a curse, something he rarely does. “How are you this wet?”
He really shouldn’t compare, but he’s never seen a na’vi in heat so soaked. You couldn’t help it really, your feelings for him are so strong that they feel overwhelming at times. Times like right now, where your feelings overflow and have nowhere else to go but between your legs, making a mess all over your thighs. “S-sorry” you pant, your soft, petite body shuddering in his grasp.
“Never apologize for that.”
The first curl of his finger earns a loud, sudden moan from your throat, just as his grip on the fleshiness of your thigh tightens. His cock is so painfully hard, turning veiny and almost blue. All he wants to do is replace his finger with his cock but, he can’t. Not when you’re this tight. The way your gummy walls grip so tightly around his finger makes it hard to even move it.
“Ra-lak” the word momentarily catches in your throat just as he curls his finger once more.
“Mm?” He hums, eyes squeezed shut, brows gathering.
“Ngh – feels... s-so good. Please.” you beg quietly, squeezing his waist with your legs as your body tries to shove his finger deeper inside you.
“There it is.” he grunts, listening to your body’s commands.
He roughly furls and unfurls his finger inside you, rubbing the pad of his fingertip against the warm, spongey part of your cunt. Each hook of his finger works out a squelching noise, and a breathy mewl from your mouth. Soon you’re panting into his chest, trying to keep your soft moans to a minimum as he picks up the pace.
There was really no point, as the more he fucks you out with a single finger, the more your moans lose their softness. His ears perk up higher and higher as the volume of your sweet, filthy moans grow louder and louder, making his rock-hard cock twitch against your thigh.
Your sweet spot swells with pleasure, moans becoming deeper and strained. He knows you’re close. So close that you were going to cum on his finger any minute, just by the way your pussy walls clench tightly around his finger. He feels the tension in your body, the way it seizes up, trying to fight the unbearable heat pooling in your pelvis. His dazed eyes open, scent of your pheromones wafting up his nose as he lowers his head, mouth next to the shell of your ear.
“Don’t fight it.” he whispers.
Your moans quiet down into low, laboured pants as you try to relax your tensed muscles. You’re having a hard time, and he can sense it.
“Let it happen, my paysyul. I'm right here.” he hums, using his thumb to rub loose, slow circles into your puffy clit.
“Mmmn! I-I can’t. Ra – ah haah, ngh! ‘ts t-too much – too much!” your shaky breaths hiccup as you shake your head side to side in his chest.
“Cum for your karyu.” he encourages you, tightening the circles and picking up the speed of his thumb.
Of course, your karyu would be the one to teach you how to cum.
The sound of his husky voice in your ear sends you over the edge – heated coil unravelling, stomach muscles relaxing. It’s as if your body were responding to his command all on its own. This foreign feeling was just too good – too euphoric. You pull up suddenly from his chest, gasping for air as your entire body convulses in his grip.
“Oh, f-fuck!” you shout, tears streaming down your face.
“There you go. Good girl.” he grunts low in his chest.
He relishes in the quick flutter of your pussy walls around his finger. The way your cum dribbles down his arm. The way you’re staring into his eyes with your mouth open, releasing silent screams into the air. He can feel the beads of precum oozing from his tip, dripping down his pulsing length and onto his swollen balls.
He keeps his finger buried deep inside you, waiting patiently for you to come down from your high. Your sputtering broken words into his ear, body going limp in his grip. He could tell it was time to get you comfortable for the long night ahead. Ralak moves quickly through the storm, bringing you up to his marui.
A whine splits your lips when he tenderly pulls his finger out of you, laying you down on his bed. It’s so warm and cozy, soft sheeting fluffed up around your shivering body. You give in to the pull of your eyelids, resting them for a couple seconds. Ralak settles himself behind you, pressing his body against yours and wrapping his arms around your waist.
It feels so good, so right. The way his body completely envelopes yours, acting as your own personal shield. You back yourself up onto him, rubbing the swell of your ass on his cock – glossy from his precum. Your body moves on its own, a hand sliding down his crotch to wrap your fingers around his girth.
Fingertips barely touching one another, you stroke half the length of his cock, feeling it warm up in your hand. His breath is heavy and hot, right in the shell of your ear. He nuzzles his face into your neck, peppering wet kisses down to your shoulder. Eywa, how you wanted him to be inside you, filling you up and making you feel full.
There’s a dull ache, deep in your womb. So deep that only something this big could make it go away. Every bone and fiber in your body is screaming for you to shove his cock inside. It’s so loud you can’t ignore them anymore, the need to be fucked.
“Lak.” you mumble, half awake.
“Mm?” he hums with fervour, cock finally getting the attention it’s been begging for.
“Want you inside.” you breathe, positioning his swollen tip to your entrance.
His hips snap back, pulling himself away from you. “Not today.”
“Please.” you whine, backing up on him once more. “My body n-needs you.”
“It will hurt, tanhì.” he mumbles between kisses, holding your hips to push them away. “Another day.”
You didn’t want to take no for an answer. Your body pined for him to stretch you out and fill you up. Your back arches as you slump your head back into his shoulder, opening your neck to his kisses. “Please, please.” you beg,
“Not when you are in heat. Not when we are not mated.” he groans, reluctantly pulling his aching cock away from your soft pussy lips.
“F-fuck. I can’t take this. I can’t. It’s – it’s too much. Please, Ralak.” you whine, squirming around from the sensation in your womb, lying on your back.
“Mawey. We will get through this.” he coos, sliding his hand down your stomach to your cunt.
Instinctively, your legs spread, welcoming the fingers that slide up and down between your folds. He slides a finger in easily, hooking it right into the gummy part of your heat, slowly massaging circles into it. He grinds his cock into your thigh, coating it with his own slick as he works yet another orgasm out of you.
“Just like last time” he coaches you through it, your breathy moans increasing in volume. “Relax, and let it happen” his words bounce with the thrust of his hips, chasing his own climax against your slickened thigh. Your walls contract, just as they did when you were about to cum. And then you lose it, walls suddenly relaxing around his digit.
“Again. Listen to your body.” he grunts, planting an encouraging kiss behind your ear.
Focusing on the budding feeling, your hands grip his veiny forearm, using it as leverage to hump his hand. You let go, allowing your body to take over. Head sinking back into the softness of the bed, you grind erratically into his hand.
“I’m close – s-so close!” you cry out, eyes popping open as your body tenses.
“Good girl, ride it out.” his voice is thick with desire, shaky from the buck of his hips. He’s on the edge, forcing himself to wait for you to cum before he does. Your hips lift in the air, his hand following with them. “Go on, let go.”
“Ra – lak! Cumming! Cumming!” you release a sudden, strained whine.
Just as your pussy walls flutter around his finger, he quickly slides a second one in, masking the pain of the stretch with the pleasure of your orgasm. With two fingers deep inside your cunt, your body convulses from satiation and pleasure, feeling stuffed to the brim.
“That’s it.” He growls low in his chest, eyes squeezing shut as he gives your thigh a few hard thrusts. Guttural noises picking up in volume and bass, he listens to his own body, spurting his warm, thick cum all over your thigh and stomach. He opens his eyes, to see a jaded look on your face as you calm down from your heat.
“I love you, my tanhì” he mumbles in your ear, fingers still inside you.
“I love you, my karyu.” you barely get out, eyelids falling shut.
He leans over you, using his free hand to grab the cloth next to his bed to clean you up with. He knew better than to take his fingers out of you, and to think that this was all over. It was only the beginning of a long night ahead.
And oh Eywa, it was.
Every few hours, you’d wake up sweating and squirming from your heat, backing yourself up onto Ralak’s warm body, begging for his touches. He’d be quick to oblige, curling the fingers that remain inside you for the entire night, making you cum as many times as you wanted. The only thing he wouldn’t give into were your pleas to be fucked. That was one thing he maintained his composure about.
----
“Y/n. For the love of Christ, you better tell me that the storm held ya up last night.” Jakes voice rings in your ear, waking you up.
Oh shit.
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Ralak te Sepwan ieyk’itan: Chapter Four
An Illustrated Collaboration with @zestys-stuff
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 creator @zestys-stuff.
Characters: Metkayina!Ralak (24) x Sully!Omaticaya!Reader (19)
Warnings: nsfw, smut, fluff, angst, profanity, age gap, sexual tension, size difference/kink, praise kink, fingering, alcohol consumption/drunk character, mating, oral sex (both receiving), p in v, virginity loss, blood, marking/biting, let me know if i forgot anything?
Word Count: 15k (i think, i dont even know at this point)
Requested: Yes || No
Author’s Note: Guys, I'm so sorry this one took so long. I hope it's worth the wait. I tried to proofread this but the app keeps crashing and I lost my progress thrice. So forgive me for any typos and errors. I'll probably go through it with fresh eyes tomorrow and fix them. Enjoy 🤍🤍
Synopsis: Your family seeks uturu with the Metkayina in the village of Awa’atlu. You have a difficult time adjusting, and are assigned your own special teacher, Ralak.
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“Not today, tahni. I must get you back, now.”
----
You protest, not wanting to go back to the prison with your less-than-understanding father and his two soldiers keeping an eye on your every move. You try to convince Ralak to have a conversation with your father, but he insists that won’t do anything. Jake is a man of action, and he would need to prove himself to Toruk Makto – prove that he is worthy of mating with his daughter.
To do things ‘the right way’.
All it took for you to behave was him grabbing your hand, pressing it against his warm, half-hard cock while he looks you dead in the eye.
“Tame Tsurak. And this is yours to do whatever you please with.”
“Oh?” Your lips pucker as you husk the word, brow raising in astonishment.
Of course, Ralak would turn this into a lesson of some sort, saying something along the lines of you being a fast learner and would only need a day to learn. It was laughable really – him saying that you need a week to learn the sign language of his people but less than a day to tame a skimwing.
He clicks for his swimwing, watching as it glides quickly through the water towards him. He takes a few steps back, making space for the large creature to come to a standstill. Ralak approaches it cautiously and respectfully, hand reaching behind him to grip and stroke the length of his kuru.
You’re only now just getting a good look at his kuru, it’s much longer than yours given the stature of this man. His tendrils are a deep pink, very composed and calm, much like Ralak himself. They dance slowly, sporadic movements gaining direction once they sense the kuru of the Tsurak in proximity.
“Bond carefully. Tsurak are not like ilu.” Ralak says, pupils constricting momentarily as the tendrils slowly entwine with one another, making tsaheylu with the scaley, large beast. It shivers vigorously as their breaths synchronize, two beasts becoming one. Ralak takes a sharp breath before swinging his leg over the creature, settling himself graciously on its back. “They deem if the rider is worthy.”
“Oh. I see...” You nod slowly, nerves fraying from the thought of not being worthy enough to tame one.
Ralak motions you to mount the Tsruak, patting it’s back behind him. “Come.” He holds your hand, helping you on before wrapping your arms around his waist. “Hold tight.”
With that, you’re off. The beast glides easily, and slowly through the water, never going underneath. Ralak spends the ride teaching you about the techniques to apply when bonding, mounting, and riding a skimwing. Even how to hold the harness properly, so you’re not pulled off by a water drag.
“Most important. When you dive back in, maintain a good position.” He rambles, demonstrating the diving movement with his hand, fingers pointing downwards.
You listen, but you’re focus is primarily on the way his waist feels in your arms. You savour the sensation, feelings of self-doubt making you think that this may be the last time you’ll touch Ralak in this way. You rest your face into the dip of his back, ear pressed into his skin as you listen to the thump of his heart.
The words echo in your head. “...to do whatever you please with.”
You could do this. You can do this. You’ll do it for him. For your mate.
Ralak slows to a halt a far distance away from your family marui pod, exchanging glares with your two older brothers. Though they were younger than Ralak, he still treats them as equals, respectfully signing ‘I see you’ to them both. Reluctantly, they return the gesture, maintaining their downward glare to the giant. Neteyam stands tall, chest puffed out to appear bigger, whilst Lo’ak’s arms are crossed over his chest, shifting his bodyweight from one leg to the other.
You scoff. Two idiots doing their idiot thing.
“We will meet again, my love.” You whisper, planting a kiss on his back before dismounting the creature to swim around to the mangrove roots.
“My tanhi.” He hums lowly, watching you swim away and climb up the root to the backside of the marui pod. He turns around, diving under the water to leave before your father’s arrival. Your brothers help you up, pushing you inside the pod by a hand on your back.
“You smell even worse.” Neteyam makes the snarky remark whilst grimacing, turning his head away from you.
“Yeah. He’s not joking, sis.” Lo’ak adds with a chuckle, leaning in to get a better whiff. He pulls back dramatically, letting out a loud ‘whoof’ as he turns his head away too.
“Ha-Ha.” You say, imitating the sound of a laugh. “Thanks guys.” You mutter sarcastically, although you really did owe them.
The sound of your father flipping back the flap of the marui averts your attention to the door. All three of you stand in formation, acknowledging the former marine’s presence. He walks past you, lips pursing into a thin line once your scent wafts past him.
“Jeez, y/n. Ya need to take a bath or something. Preferably before tomorrow ‘cause that’s when training with Tsireya starts.” He shifts his glare to his sons, patting them both on the back as he praises them for doing a good job watching you. Another scoff bubbles up your throat, prompting you to roll your eyes and find refuge behind your privacy curtain.
----
Swish. The sound of your privacy curtain being yanked aside, allowing slivers of the first rays of sunlight to shine against your cheek.
“Get up, kid. Time for your lesson with Tsireya.” Jake’s voice beats against your eardrums.
Are you fucking kidding me?
Never have you had a lesson this early. Nor have you had someone wake you up for one. And how many times did you have to speak to your father about privacy? That’s why you sat down for a week straight making these curtains. And by the way everyone keeps yanking and tugging at it, you’ll have to make another sooner than planned. You lift your head groggily, rubbing your right eye with the ball of your palm. Groans of irritation rumble up your throat as you roll over onto your side to ignore your father.
“Hey. Don’t make me come over there.” He jesters, hoping to lighten the mood.
It only makes things worse. How could he joke after locking you away and having his two watchdogs guard over you? He’s taking away the one good thing for you in this wet-land and thinks a joke will make things better?
“Leave. I’ll come out soon.” You mumble into your pillow.
Jakes brows lower in defiance for a moment, and relax when he realises that you’re just hurting. Regardless, this is what he thinks is best for you. You were still his ‘babygirl’. He takes a few steps back before turning around to walk out of the marui. Once you hear his footsteps die out, you rise from your cot and get ready for the day.
----
“Wow, y/n. You have improved so much since I last taught you!” Tsireya exclaims, surprised by your skilful movements.
“Yeah. Ralak was a good teacher.” You smile, tugging the fishnet towards you. Your lips flatten into a line when you realise how that sounds. “Not saying that you weren’t or anything.” You add quickly, staring wide eyed at Tsireya.
“It is okay.” She giggles, two dainty fingers covering her lips.
“Yeah. There’s just something about him. He’s… different.” You smile once more, slowly wrapping the fishnet around on itself, “A good different!”
“I know Ralak, y/n. He is... like a brother to me. Although we don’t talk very much...” Tsireya says, swimming towards the spears on the shore. “I am surprised you two got along for this long.”
Your brows twitch. Brother? What did she mean by that? What does she think even happened?
“I’m going to mate with him.” You blurt out, earning an astonished expression from Tsireya. “When I pass my iknimaya, of course.” You say, knowing that’s not what she’s concerned about.
“You two got along that well?” She questions, reaching for the spears.
“You could say that we confessed to each other in the heat of the moment” You mumble as you work your way to sit on the shore.
“So, why am I teaching you?” Her movements come to halt, inquisitive gaze flicking down at you.
“Dad found out. He is forbidding me from seeing him because I haven’t passed my iknimaya yet.” You twirl a strand of wet loose hair around your pointer finger, “He didn’t even care to ask about the situation. Or if I even need lessons anymore.” You shake your head, watching the hair unravel from your finger.
“I see. I think you two would be good for each other.” She shrugs, staring at the spears for a moment before throwing them back into the sand. She looks at you and smiles, “Has he taught you about our dances?”
Gaze snapping up to hers, a smile stretches your lips as your brows raise in fascination. “Dances?”
Tsireya offers her hand, and you take it, letting her help you up. “Mhm. Our way of dancing. It is very... sensual. It is said that eywa speaks through the soundwaves of the music.” She walks you over to a clearing near the shore.
Apparently, the musical instruments are sacred, some parts of it harvested from the spirit tree. And when they are played, the way of Eywa can be felt by those that listen, expressed in bodily movement – dancing. It’s movements manifest erotically, acting as a mating ritual.
It draws in the fated or desired mates of those that partake in the ritual, driving them to find one another and dance together.
“Teach me.”
----
The days go by slowly as Tsireya shows you the sinuous movements of the Metkayina. She explains that it is much like the way of water, gliding and flowing freely with the music. One must allow the music to flow through the body in waves, to slip into a trance like state for your body to sway with the rhythm.
It takes you about a week to learn all the movements. It posed to be an even more difficult task without the music, and just Tsireya’s humming. Of course, this music is only only played on the night of an iknimaya celebration.
Tomorrow is your iknimaya, and Tsireya decides it’s best to run through a few pointers on taming a tsurak. Taming one is not something you practice doing, not like an ilu. You attempt it, and if denied, it is because you have much more to learn. You may try again after further training.
“Your grip is the most important thing. Once it loosens, it is ove –”
“Girls.” The olo’eyktan’s voice booms above you, averting your attention to the three casted shadows on the shore. Your eyes trail up the silhouettes to see Tonowari, your father, and... Ralak. Your heartbeat quickens, body heating up from sensing its desired mate in proximity. You try to play it off, looking down at your knees buried in the sand.
“Father.” Tsireya shuffles to her feet, signing ‘I see you’ to the three men, acknowledging their presence.
You follow slowly after her, eyes now locked onto your feet. “I see you.” You gesture, finally lifting your gaze up to the three men.
Ralak’s brows twitch as his cold eyes trail up your body, doing their best mask his excitement from seeing you. You look beautiful – dressed in clothing native to his people, pearls embellishing your top and a string of shells sewn to the band of your tewng [loincloth]. Braided hair with bright red flowers twisted into it, his chest tightens from seeing you like this.
This is the first time you’ve seen him in a week. He looks... dishevelled. Nothing like he usually looks. Hollow eyes, body enveloped with bruises and scabbed over wounds, you can sense the fracture in his spirit. He looks so, so worn. A heated wrath simmers your blood, making you red in the face.
What have they done to you, my love? You ask him through concerned eyes, breaking your stare to seethe at Tonowari.
Jake could see the upset on your face, lips pursing into a thin line as he squints his eyes, telling you to drop the attitude. But you were vexed with him too. Did he really think you’d be an obedient little soldier? You scoff at the thought, rolling your eyes to land them back onto Ralak, who is also giving you a look.
Now that’s different.
All it takes is a quick raise of his brows and a slight shake of his head to quell your attitude. You huff a small sigh of defeat and drop your irate stare to your feet once more, holding your tongue. You wanted nothing more than to lash out at Tonowari, despite him being the olo’eytan. But you understand that this would only make matters worse.
Jake witnesses this, feeling a little embarrassed about your blatant disregard for his order and not Ralak’s. But he can’t ignore the smidge of respect he’s feeling towards him right now. To be able to handle your rebellious attitude with a simple shake of his head is impressive.
“Iknimaya is tomorrow.” Tonowari speaks, eyes drifting towards the discarded spears.
He’s clearly speaking to you, but you’re too caught up in your own head to even hear him.
“Yes, father. I am confident that she is ready.” Tsireya answers quickly, using her tail to nudge the back of your leg.
“Yes – yes sir. Your daughter taught me well.” You say a little too composed, avoiding eye contact all together.
“Good. We will be on our way then.” Tonowari nods, turning his heel to leave.
Jake follows behind him, throwing one last glare in your direction, whilst Ralak lingers for a second or two. He does one last scan of your body, before locking eyes with you. A soft smile pulls at his lips as he slowly retreats.
It’s like all the negativity bubbling in your being washes away in an instant, leaving you standing there with a dumb smile on your face. He spins around, walking nonchalantly behind the two olo’eyktans, arms tucked behind his back.
“Did he just – smile?” Tsireya asks, a little dumbfounded.
“Mhm.” You hum, smile only growing wider.
----
That night you walked home beaming, smile plastered on your face with your ears flickering wildly. It had been so long since you’d last seen him that it was so uplifting to see that sweet, sweet smile again. You haven’t felt this happy since Jake separated you two, and honestly you couldn’t bring yourself to go home and see him.
Despite your strict curfew, you find yourself alone sitting in the wet sand, watching the sun set, bright hues of red and orange lighting up the sky. You bring your knees to your chest and rest your cheek between them, thinking about tomorrow.
What if I can’t do it? You sigh, feelings of self-doubt crashing in like the waves at your feet.
“Y/n.” Jake’s voice booms behind you.
Of-fucking-course you’re going to come find me.
“What?” You mumble into your knees.
Jake’s purses his lips before letting out a small sigh, shoulders relaxing as he seats himself beside you. “Feelin’ ready for tomorrow? Not nervous, are ya?”
“Ha. Yeah. I had the best teacher in Awa’atlu.”
“Babygirl.” His voice softens as he tries to look you directly in the face. The fact that it’s been over a week, and you’re still upset tells him that he’s really hurt you.
“Not your baby anymore.” You mutter under your breath, turning your head to look the other way.
“Yes, you are... ‘nd you always will be. Even when you have your own.” He speaks gently, resting his hand on your upper back.
You shrug him off, causing his hand to retreat entirely. He reflects for a moment, on how his actions have made you feel. Has he been too harsh on you? Was the ‘tough love’ act too much? The rift that’s he’s driven between the two of you is just too thick and he must remedy it.
“Look. I’m – I’m just tryna look out for you.”
“Excuse me?” You lift your head up and look at him with an expression of disbelief. "Look out for me? Or coddle me? Cut the shit, dad. I know you’re trying to keep me from him.”
"Language!" Jake hisses, “And I am looking out for you, whether you wanna believe it or not.”
“So what? How far are you gonna go to keep me from him? Gonna make us move again? Fresh start, somewhere else?”
Jakes voice is low now, a dangerous growl as he grows frustrated with your venomous words. “Everything I do is to protect you kids. Your safety is everything to me, y/n. I just want what’s best for you.”
"Ralak is what is best for me. He's good to me. Patient with me." You croak, lump forming in your throat. "And - I love him, dad."
Jake quickly stands, letting out a scoff. "No. You don't. You barely know the guy!”
"I do. I know him more than anybody. He's a gentleman–”
“Y/n” He starts, “We’ve only been here for a few months. He’s your teacher. There’s plenty of fish in the sea. Why are you settling for the first one you meet?”
“Dad, just – stop! He’s a good person. And when I tame tsurak tomorrow... I will choose him.” Your voice fades away as you utter the last four words, heated tears rolling down your cheeks.
“Yeah. If you tame it. I didn’t even tame it myself the first try. You really think you can?�� Jake spits, growing frustrated with your defiant attitude.
Ouch. You didn’t even have the words to respond to that. Your own father taking a jab at your competency, knowing it’s one of your biggest insecurities. And to instil is own personal doubt into you is on another level of petty.
And just like that, the rift grows wider.
Your bottom lip quivers, revealing the small dimples in your chin. You stare up at him glossy eyed, tears welling up so much you could almost see the way it makes your eyes glisten. His gaze softens, as if he were just hit square in the jaw with words he just uttered to you.
“Y/n, I’m s –”
You shake your head in disbelief, brows gathering so tightly it hurt. You walk past him, shoving him with your shoulder as you make your way towards your marui. You can hear him calling after you, hollering whatever things first popped up in his head that could possibly make it right.
“Babygirl, please! You know I didn’t mean it like that. Just try to see where I’m coming from!”
But you ignore him and keep it going. Slumping into your bed, you lay your head on your pillow and close your swollen, wet eyes in hopes to get some rest for your big day tomorrow. The day that would change it all.
The day of your iknimaya.
----
It wasn’t only your iknimaya today.
Much like when you tamed your ikran, you stand in a line of other younger na’vi, who have been waiting patiently for their chance to prove themselves. Eager and excited to earn their place in the clan and mate with another.
They all speak amongst themselves, whispering harshly and huddling together to hear one another. They’re discussing pointers, reviewing techniques, and sharing tips they’ve learned from the more experienced warriors. It’s a bit annoying, in all honestly. They all seemed to have a completely different motive from you. An intrinsic one.
Whereas your motivation is standing in waist deep in the water, effortlessly holding the thrashing, winged beast in place. His hands grip the harness tightly, whilst Tonowari and another warrior secures the mid and hind section of the skimwing.
You watch as the other young na’vi attempt to tame the tsurak before you. Some pass, some fail, tsurak swimming with such force that it leaves the rider disoriented. Some even begged for another chance, while others accepted their defeat with a tail between their legs.
It makes you nervous. And the more you stand and stare at the thick skinned creature, the more is registers how big it actually is. It’s enormous – the length of six na’vi. Yet Ralak holds it down firmly, arms growing veiny from the sheer grip he has on it. It writhes beneath him, prompting him to restrain the beast even further.
You’d never seen Ralak ‘in action’ before. To you, he’s this big, soft giant, patiently tolerating your less than composed attitude. A man with simple goals, and simple desires. Not this strong, war machine he has been turned into. But you can’t ignore how seeing him like this makes you feel.
A strong and competent man.
But the more the creature thrashes around in his grip, the more your shot nerves fray. Just as you feel the nerves creep their way up into your chest, tightening it with no mercy, Ralak locks eyes with you. A stoic expression, with eyes that said so much. Ocean blue eyes, telling you ‘I’m right here. You can do it. Do it for me. For my big coc-’.
“You got this, kid. I mean – y/n.” Jake’s sudden voice interrupts your... train of thought.
If you hadn’t just been eye-fucking the man he’s keeping you away from you would’ve probably warmed up to his... attempt to make things right.
You let out a loud scoff and roll your eyes before diving into the water. Your fingers pierce the surface of the water, slender body moving through the water quickly and making the lap in one breath.
Turning your head, you quickly realise why they had you so far up in the mangroves. It was a test. A breath test. But what confirmed your suspicion is the look at your fathers’ face. An expression of surprise – shocked to see you even swim much less hold your breath for the entire lap.
Did he really have that little faith in you? You shake your head in disbelief, landing your stare on the spectators – the olo’eyktans’ family and other superior hunters and warriors. All of which stood high up in the mangroves, observing your every move.
How intimidating.
You exhale slowly, hoping to steady your galloping heart, but your efforts are to no avail. It feels as if its leaping from your chest the more you near the writhing, restless beast. And the closer you get, the louder its low, deep rumbling grows.
You’re about chest-deep in the water now, bouncing on the tips of toes as you inch closer and get a better look. You scan its entire body, starting at the white caudal fin, up to its furled wings and long snout – which houses at least a hundred jutting-out, needlelike teeth. Overall, its menacing demeanour makes your stomach sink.
Shit. Can I really do this? You think, shaky hand reaching behind you for your kuru as you continue to study the beast’s tough exterior.
“Y/n.” Tonowari saying your name snaps your eyes up to him smiling down at you. “Make the bond.” He gestures over to Ralak, who’s holding tsurak’s kuru in one hand, and the harness in the other.
He can tell from your body language and the glint in your eye that you’re nervous and having doubts. It’s the way you gnaw at your bottom lip, just like you did whenever you were getting frustrated during your lessons.
You settle yourself beside him, feeling his warmth radiate off his body onto yours. It’s been so long since you’ve been this close to each other. You’re not even touching, yet it feels so good. So right. You allow yourself to sway with the current of the water so that your shoulder brushes against his arm, sending your freckles flickering in broad daylight.
His chin remains tucked into his chest, arm extended towards you with the beasts’ kuru in hand. “Remember what I said.” He mutters under his breath, low enough for only you to hear.
You glance up at him briefly, trying your best to recall what he’s said to you about tsuraks. Your brows pinch in ponder as your pink tendrils dance wildly when they near the creature’s kuru. Was it something about the bond? Or was it how to grip the harness?
Ralak leans in, pretending to bring the kuru closer to your short stature. “yours to do whatever you please with.”
Oh. That.
You recall when he pressed your hand against his half-hard cock and told you it was all yours if you tamed tsurak. Just thinking about how warm it felt in your hand ebbs away the fear you’ve harboured in your chest, replacing it with a new feeling of determination.
Trying to withhold the smile creeping up on your face, you watch as your tendrils intertwine with the tsuraks’, kurus bonding together with a quick pull. A shiver runs through the creature as it snarls and growls, and your pupils dilate and constrict, breath hiccupping as you sync together.
You can feel it’s strength – it’s prowess. The way it breathes under and out of water. The way its left wing is injured from the na’vi that kicked it when tumbling off. The frustration brewing in its stomach. The exhaustion he’s feeling.
Instinctually, your hand caresses the length of his slippery snout, razor sharp teeth grazing your darker blue skin. “tam tam, tam tam [calm; there there]” You coo quietly, sliding your hand up his snout to grip the harness tightly. To your surprise, he settles immediately, sensing your empathy towards his state.
A sense of mutual respect.
Taking this as your signal to mount him, you hoist yourself up onto his back, being extra careful not to touch his wing. You find yourself struggling, being so far out at this height was only another obstacle in your way. Without warning the tsurak sinks into the water, lowering itself for you to haul your leg over its back.
“Irayo [thank you].” You whisper through a smile, settling yourself comfortably on the woven saddle.
Finally lifting your head up, you’re met with the stare of two surprised men, and one proud man. Ralak has this smug look on his face, like he knew all along that you would be able to make the bond in this way. And that – that’s just what you needed.
The three men let go of the beast, backing away with their hands in the air, allowing you space to ride. You tighten your grip one last time – something you recall being the most important thing, and think, go.
The tsurak takes off at full speed, caudal fin swishing from side to side, providing thrust to propel you forward. The sheer force of his jerky movements has your grip loosening already, audible swoosh of his tail growing louder the more wobble side to side.
Easy. Easy.
He steadies instantly, providing you with enough time to tighten your grip and position yourself properly on his back. You’re mindful of his injured wing, grounding the heel of your non-dominant foot beside his good wing. With your other leg, you settle your knee into his back, finding balance in your own body.
The shimmying comes to a halt, leaving you gliding effortlessly through the water, swoosh of his tail steady and low. You pull up, prompting his wings to splay out, revealing their vibrant red and orange colours. Soon the whoosh of his flapping wings drowns out the noise of his caudal fin propelling you upwards and out the water.
“There you go.” You think out loud, steadying yourself mid-air.
It’s an exhilarating feeling. The cool wind in your face and the way the sun rays heat up your skin. It almost feels like your ikran. A big smile spreads across your lips as you give his gill a gentle, reassuring tap. That’s when you feel the dull ache in your left shoulder worsen.
“Tam, tam. [there, there]” You repeat, recognizing his pain. That’s your cue to prepare yourself for the hardest part – the dive. This is the part which typically ends with the force of such a plunge knocking the na’vi off it’s back. The true test.
With a quick, deep breath, you tighten your grip around the harness one last time and dive onto your stomach, hugging his lower back with your knees. You tuck your chin to your chest and brace yourself for impact. The tsurak tucks his wings flush to his sides and plunges in, long snout piercing the water’s surface with ease.
The force of the plunge is indescribable. It’s almost like the feeling you get when you plummet down the hallelujah mountains on your ikran. But more intense. The water adds extra resistance, knocking you back to the point of your knuckles almost dislocating.
Despite that, your grip remains strong as you hurtle through the water, tilting to the side to avoid the reef. The slight sting of your lungs act as your cue to make a sharp turn and head back. You ascend slowly as you dart through the water, resurfacing completely before the three men.
You let out the breath you’ve been holding with an audible haa as you bring the beast to a halt. You wipe the water from your face and try to catch your breath, looking up to see Ralak with one of the biggest smiles on his face – the first of its kind. And you couldn’t quite tell if the shock plastered on the other mens’ faces are for you or for him.
You return the smile as you gently pull away your kuru from the tsuraks’ and dismount him. “He is weary. And injured. Left wing.” You pant, meeting eyes with the giant beaming with pride. “Let him rest, Lak.”
“Ah.” He chuckles breathily, using his tail to caress the back of your leg. “I will be sure to do that, my Tsurak Makto.”
Cheeks heating up to a dangerous degree, you avert your gaze elsewhere, only for it to land on the Olo’eyktan himself. He, too, is smiling wide, moving towards you with an extended arm. You link arms, slender fingers wrapping around his strake.
“You are Metkayina now, y/n. Soleia [congrats; you did it]” Tonowari declares.
“Thank you, sir. And your daughter –”
“While I am sure she has taught you well, Ralak is the one to thank here.” He rests a firm hand on Ralak’s shoulder.
You look over into the mangroves and see your father with his arms crossed over his chest, nodding and smiling. He’s impressed, to say the least. But not only with you and the way you absolutely mastered the taming of the skimwing, but also with Ralak – who is clearly to thank for that.
----
With night being only a blink away, things move quickly. Na’vi men and women rush to begin the preparations for the iknimaya celebration on the open, sandy area on the beach. They haul in large, tightly strung instruments, scrupulously carved flutes, drums made from animal skin, and horns made from bone, setting them up on the large, flattened rocks.
The clans’ best singers apply various colours of tsamopin [warpaint] to their skin, accentuating their features, while the elder, wiser na’vi prepare the native dishes for the feast. Fruits, vegetables, grains, and meat are cooked to perfection and spread carefully for everyone to have a taste. Bottles of fermented fruit garnish the spread. Others hurry to ornament the space with harvested bioluminescent flora from inland, and light the bon fire.
Tsireya approaches you with a full, large basket tucked on her hip. She smiles as she places her free hand on your back, guiding you and the small group of four other na’vi who passed their iknimaya to a secluded marui. Propping the basket between two jutting mangrove roots, she retrieves a handful of different coloured beads and shells.
As tsakarem [Tsahik in training], it is Tsireya’s duty to seal the iknimaya by rewarding those who passed with a few artefacts to signify their adulthood. “For your songchord.” She speaks, distributing the beads among the five of you before fetching the special pieces of clothing.
“You have all passed your iknimaya.” She speaks softly, distributing the clothing to the others. “Soleia! [congrats; you met the challenge] You may all receive your inking at the ftxozä [celebration]”
She comes to you last, carefully handing you a woven palm leaf. “I am proud of you, y/n.” She whispers, watching as you quickly open the woven packet, revealing your first Metkayinan article of clothing. Your eyes widen as you hold it in front of them.
Seven warbonnet fern leaves stained in crimson coloured ink, strung tightly together with fishing line. It’s beautiful. The leaves are long and pointed, meticulously placed to provide enough coverage for your chest. You rest it against your chest, raising your brows at Tsireya for her opinion.
She clicks her tongue, hand flying to grip her chin as she ‘thinks’. “Hm... He’s definitely going to rip that off of you.” She teases, fingers covering her mouth to hide her giggle. You laugh, probably a little too loudly given the four pairs of eyes staring at you both.
“The sun is setting, everyone! Get ready, wear your pen [clothing] with pride, look your best, and most of all, have fun!” Tsireya shouts happily, gesturing with her hand for them to hurry.
Everyone rushes to get ready, slipping in their pen and putting on their best face. You observe their hasty, excited movements, when the last rays of sunlight avert your stare to the horizon. You catch sight of the sunset, something you rarely got to see back home. The big, blood orange orb sinks beneath the horizon, turning the water a hue of orange.
Your gaze follows the ginger ripples of the water up to the beach, where you’re met with the sight of a blazing bonfire, flames growing as tall as some palm trees. A breath-taking sight. The skilled pamtseotu [musicians] work at their instruments, nimble fingers plucking the taut strings, and the wax coated bones beating away at the drums.
You admire the glow of the people as they enjoy themselves. Two elderly women trying to hear each other over the loud da-dum of the drums. A few young adults having their first sips of pxir [beer; liquor]. Parents with their sleeping babies strapped to their backs sharing a dance under the moonlight. Ao’nung and Rotxo eating as much as their cheeks can hold. Ralak – oh.
Ralak talking to your father.
----
Ralak’s POV (starting from iknimaya)
“While I am sure she has taught you well, Ralak is the one to thank here.” He rests a firm hand on Ralak’s shoulder.
Ralak remains silent, yet his mind is loud. He has so much to do – so much on his plate. But all he can think about is you. How you bring light to his small, dim world. How your presence alone uplifts the weight on his shoulders. And oh, how the past few weeks have been tortuous for him.
Tonowari, the man that took him in after the passing of his parents, had him hard at work since you weren’t allowed to see him anymore. Tonowari isn’t oblivious to what’s going on. He can tell the situation for what it is, but out of respect for Jake he made the arrangements for Tsireya to teach you instead.
Ralak has been waiting for the right time to speak with Tonowari about the matter. The matter of asking for your hand. Although he wasn’t necessarily asking Tonowari for permission for your hand, but more so permission for himself. Permission to dedicate his time to his mate, his family – to his dream, mundane life.
He watches you swim back to the mangroves, and with an injured tsurak there’s a bit of time between you and the next contender. Tonowari instructs for the other warrior to tend to the tsurak, and for a moment, it’s just Tonowari and Ralak.
The two giants exchange glances, standing in silence as one waits for the other to speak. Ralak knows it’s the perfect time to do it. You’ve just passed your iknimaya and they’re alone and far from any company.
“Sir.” Tonowari turns to face Ralak, knowing what’s coming next. Ralak slowly raises his head, tilting it to return the gaze. “I want to mate with her.” He speaks assertively, showing his seriousness through a stern gaze.
Tonowari nods a few times, breaking eye contact as he momentarily drops his head. He knows what this means – what he’s truly asking for. Freedom. Less duties. More time put into building the family he’s always wanted. To rediscover his days as a fisherman. To live his simple life.
Tonowari looks at Ralak, hand swiftly moving to firmly grip his shoulder and give it a squeeze. “You have my blessing, son.” Ralak smiles, using his free hand to clasp Tonowari’s. “But you must speak with Toruk Makto first.” Tonowari booms with laughter, pulling his hand off Ralak’s shoulder.
Although Ralak is almost as much as a giant as his mentor, he found Jake to be intimidating. He has extreme respect for Jake, admiring how family oriented he is. Which is why he wants to do it right. “I will. Tonight.”
--
Ralak hauls in a lengthy, wooden table, plopping it down in the open, sandy area. An elderly woman approaches him, thanking him with a gentle hand to his back and a gummy smile. Her free hand holds a bowl containing a mixture of diced fruits. He quickly takes it from her, placing it carefully in the centre of the table.
“Allow me. You rest.” He says with a thick accent, linking arms with her to walk her back over to the seating area.
“Tak. Always such a kind boy.” She whispers softly, patting his hand before letting go and taking a seat.
Jake and Neytiri are assisting with the seating area, rearranging the order of things. Ralak gestures a respectful greeting to them both, bowing his head before the former Olo’eyktan. Neytiri gives him a warm smile, acknowledging his kind gesture towards the elder.
She has always disagreed with Jakes decision to separate you two, insisting that he is too harsh on you and that you have already passed your iknimaya back home. She had taken a liking to Ralak since the day you rode an ilu after only a week of lessons.
“Sir. May I speak with you?” Ralak asks politely.
Jake lets out a hesitant sigh, looking at his mate who’s shooting him a deathly glare. He purses his lips into a thin line and gives Ralak a firm nod, gesturing with his hand that they go somewhere more private to talk. He follows Jake willingly, walking with him to the shoreline.
They stand in silence for a moment, much like he did with Tonowari earlier. Ralak takes a deep breath, preparing himself for the worst. He turns to look Toruk Makto dead in the eye, mask of indifference fixed tightly to his face.
“I would like to apologize for the way things turned out. It was never my intention.” Ralak speaks, holding eye contact with the great warrior – who is visibly biting his tongue for the sake of not being strangled by his own wife. “Your daughter. She is truly the best thing that has happened to me. Kind. Caring. Understanding. Yes, she has her moments.” Ralak widens his eyes, quirking his brows before smirking a little. “But I love those too.”
“Uh-huh.” Jake gives him a small nod, doing a ‘come on’ motion with his hand, implying he should get to the point.
A little intimidated, Ralak averts his gaze to his feet and speaks quickly and confidently. “I want to provide for her. Protect her. With my life. I will give her anything she desires. Everything she needs. I will give her a good life.” Ralak’s eyes snap up to meet Jake’s. “But only with your permission, sir.”
“You gonna look me in the eye this time and make that promise?” Jake raises his brows, wrinkling his forehead.
Ralak clears his throat, straightening his shoulders to stand at full height, towering over Jake. “I love her. I will take care of her. Give her everything. If you’ll allow it.”
There’s a moment of silence – other than the increasingly loud thump of the drums – where Jake and Ralak stand face to face. Jake process all what Ralak has said. He’s never heard so many words fall from this man’s mouth before. Jake’s shoulders drop as he heaves a sigh, perked ears now relaxing against his skull. Hands flying to his hips, he looks away briefly before looking back at Ralak.
“She’s my babygirl. You know that, right?” Jake growls through gritted teeth.
“Yes, sir.” Ralak is quick to answer.
“I swear, if you let anything – and I mean anything happen to my babygirl...” Jake’s voice his dark and gruff, laced with uncertainty.
“Understood. And, agreed. If anything happens to her, you have every right.” Ralak assures the former Olo’eyktan, grimacing at the mere thought.
“Right. Then you have my permission, Ralak.” Jake nods, extending his arm to the taller na’vi. Ralaks ears bolt upright, overjoyed to hear the words. They join arms with an audible smack, sealing the deal with a firm shake. “Go on. Go find her.” Jake nudges over to the mangroves with his chin, “Before I change my mind.” Ralak bows his head slightly and parts ways to look for you.
---- End of Ralak’s POV
Shit, I should go. You think, turning on your heels to go find Ralak. By the time you’ve turned around, everyone is gone except for Tsireya.
“Come, let’s get you ready.” Tsireya grins wide, slowly creeping towards you with her handmade palette of colours.
You pull your head back, a downturned smile spreading across your face. “Where are you putting that? What is that?”
“Just a little something for your cheeks, come on.” She smiles even wider, dipping her finger into the creamy concoction.
“Eh. Not my thing.” You pull your head back even more.
“Ralak will like it.” She sings, wiggling her pink stained finger in the air.
You let out a small sigh of defeat and lean forward. “Fine. Only a little, okay?”
“Mhm!” Tsireya squeals, beaming with delight as he smears the creamy mixture on the apples of your cheeks. “There. And a little for your lips, too.” She says, quickly swiping it on your lips before you can refuse.
You grunt in response, popping your lips to distribute it evenly. “Well. How do I look?”
“Sevin [pretty], and you’ll look even better when you put that on.” She stares at the crimson strained top in your hands.
You slip into your top, fixing the leaves into position to cover your nipples, and do a twirl for the chief’s daughter. “Well?” You ask with open hands.
You didn’t think that cheeky grin could grow much wider, but it does. A grin so wide that it’s ear to ear.“Fyole [perfect]. Now let’s go get your mate.”
Maybe her giddiness is just catching, but hearing one of the most beautiful girls in the village call you fyole makes you grin too. She tugs at your arm, urging you to follow her down the webbed pathway towards the sandy area.
As you both make your way down to the beach, the faint whoof of the drums deepen in bass, and the plunk of the stringed instruments grows higher. And soon you can make out the song that’s playing. It’s the same song that Tsireya has been trying to hum to you for the past week. You keep your chin tucked to your chest, gaze locked to your feet as you follow behind Tsireya.
Once you see the silky sand spill through the cracks of your toes, you look up to see that you’re both standing at the edge of the crowd. People are packed tightly together, sweaty bodies pressed firmly against each other as they move to the beat.
The ambiance is electric, you can practically see it jolt through the crowd. Different colours glow around the moving bodies, it reminds you of your dream hunt.
Tsireya grabs a hold of your hand, squeezing it tightly to bring you out of your deep thought. “Remember what I taught you, yes?” You stare at her wide-eyed, knowing what she’s going to tell you next. “Dance with me, vultsyìp [stick].” She sings the last word teasingly, tugging you into the crowd behind her.
As much as you loved the music, you’re focused on Ralak. You want to find him, be with him. You look around as you both weave through the crowd, bumping into people having a good time, drinking, and dancing. You swear you see a few people laying in the sand on top of one another, bent into positions you’ve never seen before.
Tsireya can sense that you’re a little anxious. Perhaps you feel out of place, or maybe you’re just a little stunned by the way of her – your people dance. She looks back on you and gives you a reassuring smile, squeezing your hand tighter as she burrows you both through the dancing crowd.
Finally coming to a more spacious area, she wraps her arms around your waist and pulls you in close. You slump into her, chin resting on her shoulder. Her lips brush against the shell of your ear. “Let him come to you.”
You pull back, looking around to see if he’s anywhere nearby before leaning back in to speak into her ear. “How will he know where to find me?”
Tsireya laughs, lifting a hand from your waist to tap her flat nose a few times, signing ‘smell’.
You nod slowly, trusting her word, despite you being in a large crowd that reeks of pxir[liquor], and – sex. You take a deep breath, smelling an array of scents all mixed, and overlapping one another. It’s almost overwhelming, leaving you feeling all hazy and dazed.
“Now dance with me!” She shouts over the boom of the music, sliding her hands down your waist to grip your hips. A giggle bubbles up your throat, the aphrodisiac properties of the music now taking affect. It sets a fire in your body, heating you up from the inside out and making your hips move in her grip.
It’s a little frightening, feeling your body move on its own, much like it did during your first heat. You try to fight it a little, feeling a little timid from how the music is affecting you in this way. But you recall Tsireya explaining to you that it’s something to do with ‘the way of Eywa permeating through the music’ – or something.
Tsireya realizes that your movements are bit rigid and broken, plagued with uncertainty. “Let go. Feel the music.” She urges you, guiding your hips in the direction of her motions. You allow yourself to let go, closing your eyes to immerse yourself in the trance of the music, moving freely to the rhythm.
With each beat of the drum comes a quick roll of your waist. And soon you’re dancing on her, vibrations of the instruments rippling through you. It comes naturally, body moving in a sinuous manner against hers. At the same time, it’s such a foreign feeling, as if your pores are dilating and releasing your essence into the air.
Meanwhile, Ralak is searching for you at the edge of the crowd, peeking over the sea of people. His eyes quickly scan the waves of dancing na’vi, looking for his tahni. His deep blue tahni. He had no interest in going into the crowd, much less surrender himself to the hypnotic ways of the music.
But he has no other choice.
He nosedives into the crowd, working his way between people as they increasingly get more and more suggestive with their bodies. One cannot simply walk through this without being affected to some degree – the pink tinge of his cheeks is evidence of it.
A hand instinctively flies to his nose to block out the mixture of scents bombarding him. Pxir. Sex. Desperation. Its almost contagious. Only making him want to be with you even more. Nearly to the point of desperation. He needs you. To be around you. To touch you. To be inside you.
Until it just becomes too much. Too much that a simple hand overing his burning nostrils won’t suffice. He drops his hand in defeat, allowing the mesmeric fumes to engulf him. It’s nauseating, yet his want for you grows stronger, to the point where he could swear to Eywa herself that the scent is slowly morphing into yours.
And yours only.
Ralak closes his eyes, inhaling so deeply that his chest tightens – all so he can savour your sweet, sweet aroma. He succumbs to it, nose following the scent to the source like an ilu being lured with a piece of fish. When he opens his eyes, he sees you. Clear as day.
There’s an aura around you, glowing so bright it’s almost blinding. It’s like the light in the darkness – all over again. Just like the first day he met you. The day you brought meaning to his life after losing so much.
Right there.
In awe, he watches your little body move effortlessly to the rhythm, slender tail swishing excitedly behind you. It’s the way you look – all flushed and flustered, dressed in the clothes of the Metkayina. He swallows thickly at the sight, influence of your pheromones making it that much harder – literally. He’s so hard it hurts, balls tightening and pulling so close to him that he shifts his weight to the next foot.
Yet his eyes dare not move. They bore into you so deep that even you can sense his stare. Your body knows he’s close, speeding up with your lewd movements, luring him in even more. And it works. He can’t help but move a little closer. Just to get a better look at you. At how you’ve learned the dance of his people, moving just like one of them with no difficulty.
And then you feel him.
Pressing against your body from behind, his warmth only heating you up more. You can smell him – no need to turn around to check who it is. You lean back into him, back of your head slumping into his chest. Everything’s so hot – so heavy. He leans down, pressing his soft, warm lips against your throat, using his tongue to taste the sheen on your skin.
You exhale an audible haah, chest heaving harshly as your nipples harden into peaks underneath your new garments. Tsireya lets you go, retreating into the crowd to leave you both alone. His hands quickly replace hers, wrapping tightly around your waist, pulling you in closer to his hot body.
That’s when you feel it, hard and firm, pressing into your lower back. Then your breaths turn raggedy, becoming louder. You can’t help but grind into it, feeling him bend his knees, body receptive to your movements. And soon he’s grinding into you too, bodies falling into synchrony.
“So this is what you have been learning. Hm?” He whispers gruffly into the shell of your ear, following your every move as you lower yourself even more.
“May-be” The word comes out broken from the pace your body is setting for him to keep up with.
“All for me?” He chuckles, greedy hands lowering to your thighs, fingers smoothing over your clammy skin.
“Mmn – mhm.” You purr, thighs squeezing together as you shimmy your hips into him, providing your throbbing clit with a little friction.
His hands swipe underneath your loincloth as they glide back up to your hips, his lips pressing into your neck once more. He peppers hot, wet kisses down to the tips of your shoulders and up to the back of your neck. It sends your freckles flickering under the moonlight, surely gaining more eyes on the two of you.
But neither of you cared. Not in this moment.
“Feel me.” He growls, sinking his fingers into your hips to shove you into his pelvis. “Feel what you do to me.”
You can hear the frustration in his voice, he’s so wound up that you can just tell from the way he’s manhandling your hips. “Oh, fuck.” You gasp, rubbing yourself against his hardened bulge, tail wrapping around his thin waist.
Calloused hands work their way up your stomach, fingers grazing over the dip of your navel before finding purchase under the strings of your top. He hooks his thumbs under the twine, running them along its length. You bow your back against him, pushing back into his crotch.
“My beautiful tahni.” He groans shakily, resisting the urge to pin you down and take what’s his, right here, right now. “I have missed you.”
“Ma’ Lak.” You moan softly, feeling so out of it – so hazy and light-headed.
“Do me the honour of being my mate.” He tries to speak politely, keeping his voice steady and calm, rough grinding smoothing into gentle swaying.
“Say that again for me.” You pant through a smile, dipping your head forward to give him better access to your neck.
A low growl rumbles in his chest as pointed canines graze over the nape of your neck, eager to sink into your supple skin. You spin around, drawing a little blood when they scrape against your skin. He shoves a knee between your legs, spreading them apart to press his pelvis firmly into yours. “Mate with me, woman.”
“Oh, yeah? Right here?” You tease, tugging at his queue to bring it over his shoulder.
“You’re trouble. You know that?” He chuckles breathily, leaning down to nuzzle into your neck, breathing in your hypnotic scent.
“I’ve been told.” You let out a soft giggle, twirling the end of his kuru around your finger.
Eywa, did that feel good.
“Come.” He says quickly - impatiently, hoisting you up onto him, wrapping your legs around his waist. He stumbles over to the shore, still feeling the effects of the melodic music coursing in his bloodstream. Quickly calling for his tsurak with a tik-tak, he watches as the large beast glides through the water towards him.
In an instant, Ralak bonds and mounts the beast with you stuck to him, holding you close with one hand and gripping the harness tightly with the other. You bury your face into his chest, basking in his natural scent as you try to calm down. But you’re so on edge and need some sort of release soon.
“Need y-you. S-so bad.” You moan needily, breath hitching as you grind the soft flesh between your legs against the tautness of his tewng [loincloth].
Ralak’s brows pinch tightly together, huffing a breath of hot air through his nostrils. His restraint is dwindling by the millisecond. He needs you. Craves you. Hungers for you. And he can no longer withhold himself, not when you’re still grinding into him, even though the music has faded out.
“I know. Almost there. A little longer.” He hums breathlessly, beads of sweat rolling down his temples.
Ralak’s so flustered and hot that he can barely maintain control over his winged beast, making the ride to the cove of ancestors rough and bumpy. The burning need to possess you – dominate you – only grows stronger with each huff of hot air you breathe onto his bare chest.
He wants so badly to just drill himself inside you, right on the back of this tsurak. Leaving his cock buried deep in your tight, wet heat for the remainder of the ride. So that when you do arrive, he can lay you down on the nearest rock and have his way with you.
But he won’t. Not for your first time. Not before you mate.
Your breath rasps in your throat, nimble fingers working away at the knot above his tail. It’s as if you could hear his thoughts already, telling you to take him right here, right now. Or perhaps it’s the way his painfully hard cock almost bores through the thin cloth, right into your sopping cunt as his hips buck into you. Both of you reek with desperation, a scent so pungent any passer-by would gag. Yet he still finds the self-control to reach behind him to rest a gentle hand on your wriggling fingers.
“Wait.” A single word parts his flushed lips, gruff and strained. It’s all he can get out in his state of mind. He wants nothing more than to just do this the right way. The way he’s been planning for years on end. You whine a little when he pulls your hand away, plunking it back onto your slippery thigh.
“Please.” You mewl, fingers now burrowing between your pelvises to slip under the band of his loincloth, pulling it down just enough to unsheathe his thick cock. It’s slaps against his flexed abdomen, tip of his glossy, reddened head poking right below his crossed ribs. It’s all swollen and throbbing, sticky from how much precum he’s leaking all over himself.
Denying him the chance to refuse, you shove your clothed cunt against his slickened length, humping into him with ease. He tries to bite back a sudden groan, tightening his jaw so much he may fracture it. His breaths turn raggedy as he rests his chin on the crown of your head.
Eyes becoming so lidded, he doesn’t even realise that you’re finally here. The cove of the ancestors. The most sacred places in the village of Awa’atlu, where na’vi go to mate. You’re blissfully unaware of your surroundings, trying to stick your hand in your crotch to shift your loincloth to the side.
“I said. Wait.” A gruff, stern voice sends a shiver down your spine.
And fuck – it only makes you hornier, sending your hips in a thrusting frenzy, doing their best to line his cockhead up with your dripping entrance. You can’t quite catch it as it keeps bucking and slipping over your puffy clit. You grunt a frustrated ‘mmph’, irritated that he isn’t sliding in like you thought.
Ralak is struggling to maintain his composure. Half of him wants to chuckle at your futile attempts to fuck him, and the other half wanting to just ram his cock inside you for being so stubborn. He takes a deep breath in, holding it to reground himself. He exhales a sigh of relief once he bumps into the rocky cove of his people’s most sacred place.
“Eywa – tahni.” A tortured groan evades his lips when he forces himself to shift his pelvis away from you as you persist with your efforts to hurt yourself. He inhales deeply, slowing his galloping heart. “Be a good girl for me, hm? We are here now.” He croons at you, wrapping your hands around his neck and supporting your back as he dismounts his tsurak.
The bioluminescence of the water glows behind you as Ralak walks you both towards a nearby sea cave. Directly below you is the spirit tree – its fronds and filters luminating the area radiantly. You try to squirm out his grip, feet dangling above the cave floor from the way he refuses to let you go.
“Not here. Too rough.” He grunts as he hoists you back up and walks further into the large, open sea cave. Its floor is completely flat, with all sorts of flora growing between the cracks of the rock. The deeper you venture in, the greener it becomes. Until eventually, all that covers the floor is a thick bed of green, silky moss.
Little creatures buzz around, luminating the darkness of the cave, exposing the markings on the wall from previous mating sessions. Etched swirls, zigzags, and other patterns to signify a new union. There’s no doubt that this little ‘hidden’ spot is a popular place for na’vi to mate before Eywa.
You calm down a bit, influence of the music wearing off now that you’re both so far away from the celebration. At this point you just feel a bit buzzed, melting into Ralak’s grasp as your tense muscles relax. But your droopy eyes snap open when you feel him unwrapping your legs from his waist.
“Here.” Ralak husks, voice deep and thick with arousal.
He lets you down gently, snaking his arms around your waist to pull you in for a kiss. His lips crash into yours, so heated and frantic that there’ll for sure be bruises there tomorrow. His eager hands explore your body, releasing all the pent-up feelings he’s been holding back for the past few months.
Hearts thumping wildly in your chests, you pull away and share the same breath, panting open mouthed before your lips meet again. His hands find themselves cupped around your reddened cheeks, impatiently pulling you in closer until your bodies are flush against one another.
Webbed hands work their way down the column of your throat, calloused thumbs gently pressing into your windpipe. You let out a choked gasp, mouth hanging open as his hands continue their way down to your chest, fingers parting the blood-red leaves to expose your stiffened nipples.
Rolling the tiny, sensitive peaks between his thumb and index fingers, he quickly moves his kisses down your jaw and up to the lobe of your ear, biting it as gently as he can. You stand there open-mouthed, breath catching in your throat momentarily.
You exhale as you rub your thighs together, smearing your sticky arousal all over them. It spreads your scent into the air, causing Ralak to pull away from your ear and takes a deep breath in. He releases it with a lengthy ‘ahh’, face growing hot from the way you smell. You can see him clench and unclench his jaw as the lump in his throat moves from how hard he’s swallowing.
Cerulean eyes pierce into yours, a moment of stillness passes by where his face morphs into the same face he makes when he’s trying not to succumb to that animalistic urge to ravish you on the spot. But it’s been too long. No amount of clenching and gritting could help him.
Not tonight.
He grabs you by the jaw, pulling you up on the tips of your toes to kiss you – hard. His lips crush yours frenetically, letting go all his worries and apprehensions. Truly indulging himself in the moment. In you. He fills his lungs with your arousal – your aphrodisiac. Getting high on you and allowing his body to speak for him.
Slipping his tongue into your mouth, he backs you up against the wall, hand flying to the back of your head to cushion the impact. Your tongues roll over each other, taking in the feeling of every tastebud. Both his hands slip down to yours, lengthy fingers enfolding your wrists as he brings them above your head, pinning them to the wall.
He quickly binds your wrists together, securing them tightly with one hand whilst he shoves his free hand between your slickened thighs. A small, shaky gasp breaks the kiss, thick fingers tugging down your soddened garments. You help him by shimmying your hips, allowing the flimsy material to drop to your ankles.
Now you’re just irresistible.
His fingers graze past your plump, smooth folds, before finding their way in between them. “Ralak.” His name slips out, all breathy and small. You say it so nicely, so sweet and innocent, and his ears can’t help but flicker at the double syllabled word. Eywa, he loves it so much that he makes it his mission to have you scream it by the end of the night.
But not yet.
He brings his digits to his nose, inhaling as deep as his lungs can go, closing his eyes to relish in the sweet, sweet scent of your arousal. And when his eyes open, you swear you see them shift in colour, darkening to a cerulean blue. There filled with greed, gazing longingly at you as if you were something to devour.
And that’s when he takes his fingers into his mouth, having his taste of you. Tongue weaving through the cracks of his digits, he licks them clean, using his thumb to wipe the corners of his mouth before popping that in too. There was something about the way he did that, sucking on his fingers as if you were the best thing, he’s ever tasted in his twenty-four years of living.
It makes you want to taste him too. Back bowing against the jagged wall, you try to wriggle free from his grasp, prompting him to loosen his fingers. In an instant you sink to your knees, staticky hands latching onto his thighs as you press your face against his half-covered bulge. His hand flattens against the wall, supporting his weight as he peers down at you wide-eyed.
You walk your fingers up his thighs, tucking them under the band of this loincloth to yank it down. Out springs his twitching cock, rock hard and throbbing from how swollen he’s gotten from sharing a few kisses. Your eyes cross as you look at it for the first time up close.
It’s... thick. So thick you can’t close your hand around it, leaving a spacious gap between your fingers and thumb. It only gets fatter towards the middle, then tapers off into his mushroomy head, curved and ribbed. His ridges are pointed, yet soft, spanning around and down the underside of his cockhead.
It curves upward, jumping to the rate of his heartbeat. A single bead of precum oozes from his slit, dripping off his cockhead in a thin string. Your tongue darts out, flattened with the tip of it touching your chin, eyes locked on his as you wait patiently for your fill. And when it finally drops onto your tongue, your tastebuds dance from the slightly sweet taste.
His brows jump at the sight, eyelids fluttering a little too quickly to be considered calm and collected. You can’t fight the smug look creeping on your face when you lock your jaw and swallow it with glee. Oh, to make a big, grown man like him crumble.
Naturally, you want to see how far you can push him. You wrap your dainty fingers around his cock, hold it taut to expose his throbbing head. Unsure of what you’re doing, you give him little kitten licks, playing with the little ridges underneath the tip of his cock.
His head slumps forward, thick strands of loose hair swaying side to side as his core flexes and unflexes. He’s biting his bottom lip, struggling to hold back that low grumble deep in his chest, hand balling into a fist against the wall.
And when you finally take him into your mouth, engulfing him in wet heat, his hips thrust. Hard. He didn’t mean for it, you just feel so fucking good around his cock, swollen lips stretching to their limit just for him to fit. Your eyes water, tip of his cock prodding into the back of your throat, corners of your mouth burning from the sheer size of him.
The way you’re looking up at him all glossy eyed and innocent, trying to absolute hardest not to gag on not even half of his cock sends him over the edge. He tightens his fist, knuckles scraping against the rocky wall, surely becoming bloody as he fights the urge to thrust into you one more time.
That’s when you hear the rumble in his chest, the steady, low growl traveling up his throat. Perhaps it was meant to scare you, or maybe it’s the face he’s making – narrowed, beady eyes and thinly pursed lips. Make you sit in the dip of your feet and be the good girl he wants you to be. But it only makes you wetter, thick strings of your own slick oozing onto the mossy floor.
You take him deeper into your mouth, mushroomy tip making its way down the tightness of your throat. The hot tears stream down your cheeks, washing away the rouge to reveal an even pinker tinge of your skin. The saliva pooling in your cheeks spills out the corners of your mouth, dribbling down your chin with nowhere to go.
Instinctively, you swallow.
An innocent reflex, as innocent as the glazed eyes that peer up at him. He lets out a sudden, sonorous groan, brows pinching so tightly together it creases his forehead. It’s so sensitive, so tender, that his hips snap back, cock pulling out your mouth with a loud pop. His bloodied hand flies down to your pinch your chin, pushing you away from him all together.
“’m sorry.” You apologize through a hoarse voice, thinking you’ve hurt him.
He shakes his head, thumb swiping the drool on your swollen bottom lip. “Don’t.” He exhales, chest rising and falling from how hard he’s breathing. You watch this gentle giant crumble to his knees before you, chin tucked to his chest to hide his face. He swallows harshly, clearing his throat as he slowly raises his head and looks up at you through hooded eyes.
“Tsaheylu.” He says breathlessly, heated ears laying flat against his head. He catches his breath as he shuffles closer to you, hand reaching for his kuru. All that’s running through his mind is that he must do this right. And with whatever remaining restraint ebbing away, he must do it now. “Tsaheylu, tahni.” He repeats quickly.
Ralak holds his kuru upwards, exposing his pink tendrils as they dance wildly before your eyes. There’s a moment of silence, where you both take in the lilac hue of his kuru. You nod franticly as a hasty hand reaches behind you, quickly tugging your queue in front of you. You hold yours next to his, revealing your wiggling tendrils.
Your eyes widen when you realize that they sense one another – an invisible force pulling them together. You glance up at him, wondering if he’s feeling the tug too. He’s watching intently, ears twitching and eyes tinted purple from the hues of your kurus coming closer together all on their own.
Looking back down, you witness your tendrils excitedly intertwine with one another, kurus meeting with a quick, harsh tug. His eyes slam shut, ears practically disappearing as they embrace the curve of his skull. He exhales loudly, head dipping forward as his brows gather tightly.
Your breath catches in your throat, body waiting for him to take a breath. When he finally does, you gasp for air, filling your lungs in synchrony with him. His eyes pop open, pupils so blown that only a thin ring of blue remains. Your tail swishes wildly behind you before curling around your waist to tickle his thigh.
A faint ring buzzes in your ears, fading out into a vague, echo of his voice. You can hear his thoughts, feel the way your tail brushes against his skin makes him hot and bothered. You can feel his tightened chest, thick with emotion and overwhelm. And if you close your eyes and focus enough, you can feel his deep-rooted trauma – his past.
But you can also feel his present. His future. The way he desires you to be the one to bear his children. To make his marui into a home. His immense adoration for you and only you. and the more you tune into your mate, the more you feel his immense restraint and composure, the way he’s forcing himself to be gentle.
It’s all too much at once, yet not enough all together.
“I love you.” You blurt out in unison, urge so strong it’s exigent.
The tightness in your chest grows ten-fold, spreading to your core. Eager hands caress one another’s cheeks, pulling each other in for another heavy session of kissing. You break the kiss with a shove to his chest – your futile attempt to push him onto his back. He’s unbudging, strong and solid, even in such a carnal state.
“Lie down, Lak.” You pant, still out of breath from such an intimate experience.
Ralak nods, slowly leaning back to prop himself up on his elbows. Loose, curly strands of hair sticks to his temples, inebriated gaze boring into yours. You climb between his legs, settling yourself comfortably in the dips of your feet.
His neglected cock twitches madly, pre-cum practically flowing down his length and onto his swollen, firm balls. You swallow thickly at such an enticing sight. You want to taste him. To return the pleasure he’s always ensuring for you. Now that you’re here, between this gentle giant’s legs, you realise that you’ve never even stroked him before.
Shaky, inexperienced hands wrap around his girth, experimentally gliding up and down its length a few times. You can feel every vein, every ridge pressing into the palm of your hands. He’s so rock hard that it looks painful. You can tell in the way he grimaces, peering down at you as you pump him without rhythm.
Holding his cock out the way, you lean in do something you’ve been thinking about since the day of your first lesson. Lick his tattoo. It’s raised and warm, even a little veiny too. You trace each stripe with the tip of your tongue, trailing it down to the base of his cock. Nuzzling your face into the space between his thigh and balls, you fill your lungs with his musky aphrodisiac.
“Eywa. You smell... so fucking good.” You exhale, licking his cock from base to tip. He shudders before you, lying down flat on his back and covering his face with his hands. You can tell you’re doing a good job, the little groans evading his mouth confirming that for you.
Taking him into your mouth, you suck on his mushroomy head, swallowing all the slick that pools in your cheeks. Its mostly sweet, with a little bit of a salty aftertaste. You mindlessly play with the ridges under his tip, liking the way they feel against your tastebuds. He seems to like it too, hips jolting forward with each swipe of your tongue.
“Muntxate [wife]” He growls the word, hand flying from his face to grab a fist full of your hair.
Yes, my love? You think, knowing he’s hearing your every thought and feeling your every emotion.
“Keep doing that and I’ll cum.” He warns you, tone of voice gruff and serious.
Good. Cum for me.
“Ssst–ah.” He lets out a shaky breath, hand beginning to pull your head off him. You quickly clutch his wrist, picking up the speed of your tongue whilst bobbing your head on his cock. “Tahni. Tahni. Tahni.” He groans, each word becoming more and more guttural as they slip off his tongue.
Let me taste you, Muntxatan [husband].
“Shit.” He whispers, caving in on himself as his other hand flies to your head, stopping you from bobbing your head all together. With a quick, single swipe of your tongue, his head pulsates feverishly, spurting ropes of warm, thick cum in your mouth. It pools in your cheeks, stuffing them until they burn from how full they are.
You swear you can hear the da-thump of his throbbing cock, balls pulling closely to his core. You hum triumphantly, proud of yourself for making him cum. You pull off with a subtle pop and a loud gulp, swallowing his huge load with greed. Wide eyes stare down at you, processing what you just did.
Seconds of silence fill the air, two freshly mated na’vi staring into each other’s eyes.
Within seconds he’s pinning you down on your back, assaulting your throat with rough kisses. His core ruts against yours, sweaty, inexperienced bodies bumping into each other. Everything moves so quickly that you can barely process how he’s got you pinned down on your back underneath him, trailing wet, feverish kisses down your chest. You go to slip out of your top, only for a large hand to stop you.
“Keep it on.” He grunts into your skin, tip of his tongue leaving a trail of saliva down the centre of your stomach. Eyes flicking up to yours, his predatory, lustful gaze bores into you, soft lips pressing into your abdomen. They flicker from side to side as they admire your luminous beauty, flushed lips sucking bruised-like marks into your dark skin.
Little broken mewls part your lips, hips lifting slightly as he peppers gentle kisses below your navel. He maintains eye contact with you as he works his way down to your hipbones, leaving open-mouthed kisses against your hips, he works his way down to your soft thighs, tip of his tongue swiping against your skin – salty from the sea. He lingers there for a while, breathing deeply to savour the sweet scent of your heat that’s so, so close to him.
He lingers there, waiting patiently.
Waiting for your permission as he begs you with his eyes to let him have a proper taste of you. To have his turn. One side of your mouth pulling coy smirk, you weave your fingers through his hair to push his nose between your folds. He wrenches your thighs open, pinning your legs to the mossy ground as he begins to devour you.
Tongue parting your pussy lips, he greedily laps up the sweet nectar dripping from your slit. He grunts into your cunt, sucking on your clit, all swollen and puffy from being so neglected. His hips buck into the mossy bedding beneath him, chasing the feeling that’s transferring to him through the bond.
You yelp out when you feel his finger stretch you out, sinking inside you at a torturously slow pace. He doesn’t want to be too rough with you as it’s been a while since he’s touched you in this way. But you reassure him with a tug at his wrist, shoving his finger knuckle deep inside you.
But it’s just not enough.
“M-more, Ralak. Please!” You cry out, extreme pressure in your chest coming to a head.
Feeling the taut tension, Ralak quickly obliges, sinking another digit inside of you as he assaults the little bud of nerves with the flat of his tongue. Your toes curl at the same time he curls his fingers inside you, prodding them deep into that gummy part of your heat. The pressure feels like electricity, surging through your core and to the tips of your extremities.
He loves how you’re squirming around, hips sputtering to chase your orgasm all on your own. He’s so proud of you, working for your own release like the good girl you are. Praising you with a quick pat on your thigh, he quickens the pace of his fingers, working out a squelch with each thrust.
You begin chanting his name over and over, voice waning with each syllable, until its nothing a tiny, pathetic whimper. Your head spins and your heart skips as you clench tightly around his digits. Your legs tremble, working their way towards one another to close around his face.
“Gonna – oh f-fuck.” You let loose a sudden whine, shoving him into your pussy when you feel the final shockwave ripple through your being, leaving you a shaking mess at the mercy of his two fingers and tongue. Following your every jolt, he hums a victorious groan from the feeling of your pussy walls fluttering helplessly around his fingers. He pulls away with a ‘pwah’, using this opportunity of pure, unadulterated pleasure to stretch you out even more.
“Good girl. And breathe for me.” Ralak coos, sliding his third and final finger inside you. The stretch stings, causing you to wince for just a moment. He quickly curls his fingers, causing another wave of white-hot pleasure to ripple through you, masking that string just right.
Ralak gently moves his fingers inside you, just enough to get you used to the such a big stretch. The sharp sting fades away, leaving nothing but small shocks of electricity surging through your swollen pussy. Slumping your head back into the pillowy moss, you focus on steadying your breathing. Your vision is blurry, and things are becoming hazy, but you don’t want this moment to end.
“Lak... Want more. Please.” You moan weakly, eyes crossing before they roll to the back of your head. You’re already all fucked out from his fingers alone yet you’re begging him for more. And he can see it, too. The way you’re just so spent, body trembling beneath him as he continues to stimulate your rubbed out sweet spot.
“I am not like you, tahni. I only have three.” He chuckles softly, curling them inside you as a reminder.
“Ngh! Y-you know what I mean. I want you...” Your voice falters, hand reaching down to grab his erection, a little surprised that he’s still this hard. “I want this. Please.”
His features soften, apprehension filling his lower stomach just from the jaded look you’re throwing his way. “Are you sure? We can do it another time.” He insists, feeling how tight you still are, despite taking three of his fingers.
“No, please no.” You pant as you shake your head lethargically, shimmying your hips closer to his. “Need-you-to-fuck-me!” You cry out, stringing the desperate words together so quickly it almost sounds like one.
“Tahni.” He utters just over a whisper, staring down at you with eyes of concern. Not only can he see the exhaustion on your face, but he can feel it too. It travels in waves through the bond, right into him. And after such a long day, iknimaya and all, it’s expected. “It will be too much for you right now.”
“You said, ‘anything I please with’. Right?” A tremulous, soft voice reminds him of his deal, knowing he’s a man of his word, albeit few. He chews on his bottom lip, a little impressed with you. He heaves a heavy sigh of defeat, positioning himself between your clammy thighs as he hoists your legs over his.
“Tell me if it hurts. Okay?” He leans over you, using a thumb at the base of his cock to line it up with your entrance.
You nod lazily before tucking your chin to your chest to witness you become one. The crown of his cock prods at your tight opening, looking massive in comparison. For a second you even question yourself how that will fit inside you. It’s way bigger than his three fingers combined, not to mention, much, much lengthier.
It bucks against your innocence, slipping and gliding over your sticky clit. You both grunt in unison, tension snapping just to rebuild all over again. His hips snap back, all four fingers now gripping the base of his cock.
An unexpected wave of anxiety crashes through you, making you cling onto your mate. You bury your hot face into his shoulder, completely abandoning the plan to witness it strip you of your innocence. He can feel your hesitation through the bond, holding his position in case you change your mind.
“Do it, ma’ lak. Put it inside me.” You mumble quietly into the dip of his collarbone, inching your hips closer to his.
He pushes into you slowly, breaking past the resistance of your tightness, mushroomy tip liding in with an audible pop. You bite down onto his shoulder, hard enough to sink the full length of your canines into his cyan coloured skin, staining it red with his blood. It muffles your pained, little cry, tear drops crashing onto the swell of your cheeks.
Fuck, it hurts.
It hurts so much that it makes your body shake and shiver underneath him as it tries so desperately to adjust to his size. It burns and stings and oh – it’s just too much. It feels as if something were lodged between your joints, snapping you open with such force.
His movement comes to a standstill, as if he were frozen in time. He grimaces, unsure if its from the way you’re pinching him or if its from how deep your little canines are sunk into him. Or maybe it’s your pain transferring to him, but he feels it too.
“You okay? Feeling pain?” Ralak’s voice is tender, a gentle hand moving to release your bite.
You unlatch from his shoulder, leaving open puncture wounds for blood to trickle down his chest. The pain fades at a torturously slow rate, but any little movement causes a new wave of fire to shoot down your legs. Surely, just like with his fingers, if you stay here for a bit, it’ll fade completely.
“No. Haah. Just give a m-minute.” You pant out a lie, breath hitching at the last word.
“Y/n. I can feel your pain.” He utters breathily, pulling out as gently as he can.
“Don’t. Please, I want this.” Your voice is breathy, yet strained, legs quickly locking around his hips to push him in a little deeper. You let out a sudden, high-pitched whimper, burning sensation worsening. Your legs begin to shake uncontrollably around him, sending little vibrations up his spine.
“You’re shaking. Another time.” Ralak says sternly, unhooking your legs from around his hips.
“No, please.” A pathetic little plea falls from your lips.
He shakes his head, grinding his teeth together to deal with the guild bubbling in his chest. “Your body isn’t ready.” He mutters, pulling out tenderly. The more he moves, the more the scent of blood fills the air. He can feel it trickling down his back, but it’s the least of his concerns right now.
“I-I am ready. Please Lak, just give me a moment to –”
Ralak looks down as he pulls out, head snapping back up to reveal the panic etched into his features. “You – oh Eywa. You are bleeding, tahni.”
“It’s okay. I’m okay.” You coo with quivering lungs, cupping his cheek to make him look in your eyes. “Really. Look at me, Ralak.” You give him a wobbly smile, only for him to pull away from your grip.
“I am hurting you. Look.” Two fingers pinch your chin, pulling it down to avert your gaze. A thin layer of blood coats your inner thighs, some smearing on his too. Your eyes snap back up to his, which are glazed over with panic and guilt. He pulls out of you fully, sitting in the dip of his feet to have a proper look between your legs. “I am so sorry tahni... I-I thought I stretched you enough.”
“Lak...” You whisper shyly, trembling legs slowly closing to hide yourself from his eyes.
“We must go.” He declares, carefully scooping you up into his arms, holding you close to his chest as he makes his way out of the cave. Calling for his tsurak, he glances down at your face to see it screwed with discomfort. The guilt weighs heavy in his heart, driving him to act quickly.
So quickly that you don’t even realise that you’re already on the back of his tsurak, soaring at full speed through the water. You were truly fine, just a little sore and uncomfortable, but certainly nothing that required this level of speed. The ride back is uncomfortably quiet, Ralak trying his hardest to regulate his emotions. You can see the restrained look on his face, tightened brows, and thin lips.
“I’m alright, my love. You don’t have to go so quickly.” You try to reassure him with a small voice. He huffs a sigh in response, clenching and unclenching his jaw, biting back his feelings to focus on remedying the situation. “’ts not your fault.”
Eyes slamming shut, he shakes his head slightly, as if he were saying you were wrong. He holds you closer, opening his eyes to glance down at your blood-stained thighs. Eyelids fluttering, he looks back out into the distance, watching his marui pod appear larger and larger as he approaches it.
Within seconds he’s dismounted his skimwing, and takes large, quick strides to the cave. Your legs dangle over his forearm, other arm supporting your back as he carries you bridal style into the water. A shaky hand reaches for his kuru, holding it in the air to expose his pink, tendrils.
“Tsaheylu, Lak.” You groan needily, wrapping your tail around his thigh.
“Soon, tahni. Let me clean you first.” He hums tenderly, glancing down at your body one last time before slowly submerging you in the water.
The lake is always warmer in the nights, glowing around you from its bioluminescent properties. Supporting your back with one hand, he carefully parts your legs and cleans you gently. Your eyes remain locked onto his face, his clenching jaw, his flattened ears – the way the column of his throat protrudes when he swallows.
The guilt is evident on his face, and it worsens the more he looks at what he’s done to you. And when he moves down to the flesh between your legs, you can’t help but jolt, legs closing around his hands as you wince a little. His head whips towards you, worried eyes boring into yours. You give him a quick smile, nodding that he can continue.
Hand parting your legs once more, he ensures to be extra gentle and tender, even leaning in to see if he’s doing it right. After he’s finished, he bathes the rest of your body, rinsing the sweat and grime out of your hair after such a long night.
“Thank you. You didn’t have to –” You mutter, trying to stand so you can have your turn at bathing him.
“No need.” He says quickly, scooping you back into his arms with ease, making his way up to his marui. “How are you feeling?”
“I feel fine, Lak. Honestly. You could’ve kept going, I just needed a moment.” You blubber out, trying to wriggle from his clutch.
He scoffs, shaking his head as he ducks under the flap to his marui. “You are like a baby.” He walks over to his bed and lays you down carefully, treating you as if you were really wounded. The leaves of your top stick to your breasts, wet and saturated from such a long bath.
“And you were about to fuck –” You mutter under your breath, to be cut off by Ralak’s glare. You let out a small sigh, a little frustrated from how the night played out. He walks towards a shelf on the opposite side of his marui, giving you the opportunity to sit up, and scoot over to the edge of the cot to get up.
His ears perk up from the shuffling sounds, but his back remains turned to you as he mutters the word. “Sit.”
Defeated, you plop back down onto the soft bedding, thumbs twiddling with one another as you wait for him to come back. Meanwhile he extends his arm to the top shelf, back muscles flexing as he retrieves two wooden drinking bowls and a bottle of liquid.
It’s mauve, and iridescent, swirling around as it sloshes from side to side. He pops it open with his back teeth, spitting the cork into a woven basket on the floor. He plans to cut it into two later, saving a piece each for your songchords.
Sitting next to you on the end of his cot, he hands you the wooden cup, nudging it closer to you with raised brows for you to take it from him. Reluctantly, you take it, a little confused as to what he’s giving you to drink. He pours the thick liquid into the cup, stopping after a few glugs. Then he pours himself one, too, waiting until the liquid touches the lip of his cup.
“Drink.” He orders, bringing his cup to his mouth as he waits for you to do the same.
Bringing it to your lips, your face screws with disgust, head turning away to get the smell out your face. You lower the cup into your lap, looking at him with an expression of perplexment.
How could he drink such a foul-smelling thing?
“Erm, no thanks... I’ll pass.” You barely get out, afraid to take a breath in.
His ears flatten in frustration, lip twitching ever so slightly. He knows this will help with the pain, so why are you being so stubborn? He doesn’t utter a single word, beady eyes piercing into yours.
“Okay. Okay. I’ll drink it... Eywa.” You say the great mother’s name like a curse, bringing the cup to your lip.
You take a sip, face contorts with revulsion, eyes watering as the liquid burns on the way down your throat. Your tongue darts out in repulsion as your eyes flicker up to him, brows raising inquisitively to ask if you drank enough.
His lips purse, and he shakes his head slightly. “All.”
You heave a sigh, rolling your eyes a little before bringing the cup back up to your lips once more. You feel a single finger rest under your hand, nudging it upwards to tilt the cup all the way back, encouraging you to take a swig. You knock it back, gulping down the viscous liquid and stick your tongue out for proof.
He nods in approval, slight smirk curling the side of his lips. He knocks his back in one go, letting out ‘ahh’ after the liquid travels down his throat. Not even a wince. He seems to enjoy the burn.
For you, the after taste is even worse, making your nose scrunch and the tears overflow from your eyes. He’s quick to wipe them away with his thumb, tucking a strand of loose hair behind your ear before retracting his hand entirely.
“What did I just drink?” You croak, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand.
“Fermented fruit. Pxir...” He looks at you, “Liquor.” Ralak takes the cup from you and refills it, as well as his.
Plunking it back into your hand, you look at him through pinched brows. “What does it do?”
He brings his to his wet lips, exhaling a sigh of guilt. “Pain. It will help with the pain.” He sighs, throwing his head back and swallowing the pxir in one, loud gulp.
Your features soften when you realize how he knows such a thing. “Is this what you had when you did your own tattoo?”
“Yes. Not the same. But the same effect.” He chuckles a little, impressed by your ability to put things together so quickly.
“Ah. I see.” You say, looking at the liquid as it swirls around in your cup. “So if I drink enough of this, you’d do my tattoo for me?”
“Sure.” He utters, fighting the little smile creeping on his face as he watches you chug the pxir. “But tomorrow. I have already caused you a great deal of pain today.”
Another sigh makes its way out your nose. You give up entirely, handing him the empty cup and laying down in the bed. Your bed. In your marui pod. Wondering, heavy eyes begin exploring the pod all on their own. It feels like the stilts holding the roof up are spinning, making you feel a bit woozy.
“Ralak. I feel weird.” You hiccup, heavy lidded eyes threatening to close for good. “All... bubbly.”
“Ah. My tahni.” He hums softly, sliding into bed next to you. “It will do that to you. Get some rest, okay?” He rakes his fingers through your hair, using his fingertips to massage your scalp.
“Lak. I want – I want to try again, doesn’t hurt anymore.” You blabber incoherently, trying to open your legs for him. Reminded of the pain that he brought you, Ralak shakes his head, closing your legs gently and covering you with the sheet. Snuggling into his warm chest, your eyes fall shut for the night.
“Another day.” Ralak whispers, planting a soft kiss on your forehead.
Unable to sleep, he spends the rest of the night swigging straight from the bottle, bathing, and checking up on you. You’d wake every so often to him parting your legs, checking to see if you were alright.
He thought nothing of it, just one of his duties as your mate to care for you. But you’d be quick to shove away his hand, mumbling to him not to look despite the coy smile on your face, all from knowing he cares that much.
When he finished the bottle, he was woozy enough to crawl back into bed with you and snuggle behind you. His eyes finally closing when the first rays of sunshine beam through the marui pod, the same rays that wake you up.
--
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Ralak te Sepwan ieyk’itan: Special Episode II
Concurrent Tides
An Illustrated Collaboration with @zestys-stuff
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 creator @zestys-stuff. Most illustrations are now on her patreon.
Characters: Metkayina!Ralak (24) x Sully!Omaticaya!Reader (19)
Warnings: nsfw, smut, fluff, profanity, age gap, aggressive rut cycle, heat cycle, dom/sub dynamics, jealousy/posessiveness, knotting, marking, scenting, praise kink, breeding kink, size difference, p in v, mating/bonding, multiple climaxes, creampie, ralak is a bit of a meanie in this, let me know if I forgot anything?
Word Count: 10k
Requested: Yes || No
Author’s Note: the second special episode is finally here. sorry it took forever to get it out, but better late than never :') i hope you guys enjoy <3 theres another part to come after this one! 🤍
Synopsis: what happens if you and your new mates cycles sync?
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——
“Only I knot you.”
That was the first time you’d ever seen Ralaks eyes shift in colour. That same night right after he pulled you out of his memory of his first rut. A beautiful, deep blue, glistening before your honey glazed orbs. It’s barely been a week since that night, yet it replays over and over. Day and night. How he looked at you with nothing but unadulterated greed, hardly catching his breath as he tried to steady his galloping heart. It was something deep-rooted and primal.
Something animalistic.
Since, you’ve longed to see him fully immersed in such a state. A state where self control and sexual desire no longer coexist. He’s always too concerned with you and what he thinks you can and cannot manage that he never allows himself to do what he truly wants. The level of restraint you feel through the bond is indescribable. A level you nor any other na’vi could conceivably attain. Regardless, most nights you find yourself fantasizing about this ‘lack of control’ right before bed.
Nights like tonight.
Where the stars shimmer so brightly that you need to draw the curtains, and the air is exceptionally cold and crisp that you need to huddle closely together for warmth. When your nose is buried so deep into his chest that there's no other choice for his scent to fill your lungs. And tonight he smells extraordinarily good. The salt of the sea mixed with leather hide. And oddly enough, he smells like… home. The forest and its greenery. It’s quite ironic but perhaps it’s Eywa’s way of saying that this man is truly yours. It's so comforting and right. Like a cup of hot tea on a stormy night, never failing to put you to sleep. A remedy that works in seconds — but not tonight.
Tonight you’re restless and he can sense it.
“What is it?” Ralak husks, shifting his position to hold you a little closer. “Cold?”
Truthfully, you’ve been feeling a little off. Your body has been restless and haunted. As if it could sense some sort of change of shift in the atmosphere. Or perhaps it was between the two of you. “No.” You mumble, lifting your head to look up at him. “Just can’t sleep.”
Ralaks ears twitch, a little surprised his typical soothing techniques aren’t working. He sits up quite quickly, bringing you up with him as he scoots back into frame of his bed. His brows lower when he ponders about what could be keeping you so on edge. He takes note of your flushed appearance and the minute changes in your eyes, they’re glowing a little brighter recently.
His brows jump when the realisation dawns on him.
Could it be? He knows it’s close but is it really already affecting you? How is that possible? And does that mean it will be even more severe this time around?
He had every intention to stay but perhaps it’ll be more difficult than he expected. He should really tell you, but he knows exactly how that would play out. You would get your way as per usual, it was hard for him to deny you of anything you wanted. A quick swish of your tail and it was yours. Ralak took pride in caring and providing for you. But not for this. This was just plain dangerous. And therefore he couldn’t allow you to figure it out. It’s ultimately safer that he keeps it to himself, at least until you’ve adjusted to him a little more. Your intimate moments together are very few in number after all.
“Why is that, tanhì?” He asks in a low, steady tone, fixing his mask of indifference tightly to his face.
You may be a slow learner, but you weren’t slow. You could sense that he wasn’t being all that transparent with you.
“I don’t know. Something feels off about you.” You say in an almost accusatory tone, finally sitting up to look him in the eye. He’s pale in the face and his breath becomes raggedy. “Tell me, Ralak.”
You watch as his pupils constrict, leaving nothing but a black dot in an open sea of blue. Within a matter of seconds, they deepen in colour and his eyelids flutter shut. He clears his throat, and waits a few seconds to open his eyes. They’re back to normal but you could’ve sworn they looked different. Just like they did a few nights ago.
“What just happened to your—” Your heart begins to race as you utter the words, only to be cut off by Ralaks hasty voice.
“Inland. Tomorrow morning. Overnight hunting trip.” He grinds them out as if it physically hurts to say the words. Anything to keep you from figuring it out.
What? Is he — lying to you?
This isn’t like him. He avoided trips inland at all costs. Anything to stay with his tanhí. He’d even go as far as faking an illness, despite rarely getting ill, to get out of accompanying Tonowari. Especially for overnight trips.
“And why did you not tell me earlier?” You manage to squeak out a closing throat, backing away to create a little distance.
He shakes his head as he blinks rapidly, staying put to allow as much space as you need. “I was hoping I did not need to go.” He utters, dropping his head to lock his gaze on your twiddling thumbs. His eyes trail up your dark blue frame, taking note of how your body is already almost trembling —already responding to him— all out of your control. He bows his head, hiding his face. “But it seems that I cannot get out of this one. I am sorry, my paysyul.”
For a fleeting moment, you really thought this was the beginning of something bad. Something deceitful. But, his words instantly bring you comfort, slowing your leaping heart and putting your mind at ease.
But the funny thing is that there was no lie.
There was really an overnight trip inland with Tonowari. One that Ralak arranged himself. Tonowari was especially taken aback by Ralaks suggestion of a hunting trip and immediately queried if he was alright, putting a firm hand on his forehead to determine if he had some sort of fever. But once Ralak explained himself, Tonowari was smiling and laughing, smacking a few blows on his back as a form of approval, teasing him yet again about ‘the love story between an Akula and an ilu’.
Your sigh brings Ralak out of his deep thought, chin leaving his chest to witness you sliding back into bed, turning on your side and backing up onto him. A smirk pulls at the his lips as he joins you, enveloping you in his warmth once more. A wave of relief washes over him as he rests his chin on the crown of your head. He’s thankful that you didn’t press any further. Otherwise, he would’ve had to reveal his best kept secret.
His upcoming rut.
——
The harsh thump of Ralaks heart rouses him to the sight of his mate clung to his chest. He admires your beauty, allowing his eyes to fall on your chest, watching closely as you breathe slowly. He gently pulls back the thin sheeting covering your body, exposing your puffy nipples to the cool morning air. When they stiffen into peaks, saliva pools in his mouth. At this point he would have looked away because of basic na’vi decency, but this morning is different.
He allows himself to stare. To take in every detail on your chest. To sear it into his memory so he can visualise you just like this as he relieves himself. Exposed before his eyes, supple skin glistening as the rays of sunlight reflect against your freckles, exposed, stiffened nipples, that act as the perfect bait to lure in a hungry predator.
Predator.
That’s what he’ll be in a matter of minutes. Nothing but a slave to his own urges and instincts. Ravenous. Insatiable. Voracious. With not even a sliver of self composure left to hold onto an ounce of rationality. He can already feel it creeping up on him, the hunger deep in his core turning him into the beast that he appears to be on the outside. It’s always been like this. A little too much. Too overwhelming.
Too aggressive.
And as the years passed it only worsened. Six unmated years. With no one but himself to make it through the tortuous few days. He just knows that he would be too rough with you. It’s his biggest fear, after all. To have no self control. To hurt the one thing he loves more than Eywa’s gift of life itself. He would sacrifice his own (life) if it meant to save yours.
He was hoping to endure it. Bite his tongue through it and be by your side. Perhaps take a long bath in the lake and crawl into bed after you’ve gone to sleep and relieve himself as quietly as he can. But now that it’s here in full bloom, he’s already having a hard time containing his urge to spread your legs and use you as his own personal fucktoy.
But you’re more than that to him.
And this is why he’s choosing to leave before you wake. Before he can no longer contain himself to just staring at your bare chest. Before he pulls the sheet down even further and parts your legs—already trembling from his leaking pheromones—and has a taste of his sweet, sweet tanhí. Rather, he uses his last shred of self composure to plant a firm kiss on your forehead before quickly gathering his gear and heading out the door.
Unbeknownst to him, you were awake the entire time.
You could feel his eyes bore into your tiny frame as the crisp morning air grazed past your nipples, just like you could feel the roughness of his kiss right above your brow. You wanted to open your eyes but the way his pheromones waft up your nose had you in a foggy trance. Your eyes burned under your eyelids and your body felt so heavy and hot.
You couldn’t help but think, is this his rut?
To be influenced by his cycle? You had felt it before. His first rut in the flashback, but it was nothing like this. Sure, it had you shivering and a little on edge but this was to another level. You could barely open your eyes, much less get out of bed. This entire time your body has been sending warning signals that its mate was peaking in his cycle — restlessness, clinginess, the nesting. You had unknowingly gathered enough fruits and grains to last you a few days. Even in this murky state of mind you finally manage to link the pieces of the puzzle together.
Listening to his footsteps as he walks out the marui, you muster up as much strength as you can to open your eyes. It’s blurry and honestly all just one blob. You could only make out a few colours trailing behind this gentle giant—green, blue and orange. All of which mix together and move like the aurora in the night sky. If one could see what a pheromone looks like, this would be it. When you finally get enough strength to part your chapped lips to mutter his name, the colours disappear as the marui flap closes behind him.
You really thought that once he left and the room aired out, that the influence of his pheromones on your body would lift as well. But you were wrong. Instead, the heaviness of your body grew tenfold, making it hard to breathe. It’s as if your lungs were filled to the brim with cold water, yet they burned as you squirmed around to fill them with air. The fire in your lungs quickly spread to your extremities, leaving your entire being in a sweltering inferno.
This feeling is familiar, yet foreign all at once. A desire so extreme it burns from within. The desire to be connected with your mate on all levels known to the na’vi. To satiate the itch of your empty, fertile womb by filling it with his seed.
Why did you have to get your heat now?
You call for Ralak a few times in your dazed state, only for you to be reminded by nothing but the crash of the waves that he’s gone. Soon the heavy rumble of the waves is drowned out by your whimpers and whines as you call for your mate to no avail. All you can manage to do in your feverish haze is kick off whatever cloth is stuck to your body, curl into a ball and rock to ease the unbearable sensation between your legs.
All until you hear a familiar, husky voice.
“I was doing some sessions with Ronal and—”
“R-Ralak?” You call out in relief, hoping your prayers have finally been answered. You roll onto your side and squint at the figure in the door frame.
“Uh. Not quite.” He quickly mutters under his breath, moving his forearm to shield his nose from your strong pheromones wafting his way. “Eywa—” He mumbles the great mothers name like a curse as he looks around the marui for your mate. “Where is Tak?”
Tak?
The more you squint your eyes, the more you’re able to make out who this figure standing in your doorway is. Your blurred vision clears just enough to reveal the unforgettable, brawny features of no other than Ka’ani.
“Ka’ani?” You say the name slowly, unsure if you should believe your eyes.
“Hah. What do you know…” Ka’ani scoffs, moving his arm from his face to lean in to get a better look at your condition. You’re panting yet shivering, glazed in your own sweat and slick. He smirks a little as he pulls back, spitting out the words, “…bitch in heat.”
“What are you... d-doing here? You should leave!” You try to shout, although it comes out more as a hoarse cry.
“Why should I? It looks like you need a hand.” Ka’ani jesters, physically extending his hand towards you as he wiggles his thickset fingers.
“Haa. I really don’t.” You pant, hugging your knees to your chest even tighter.
“You’re sitting in a puddle of your own sweat.” Ka’ani’s voice is harsh, yet laced with concern. “And whatever else is coming out of you.” His jaw clenches and unclenches as he looks away from you, seemingly out of — respect? He catches sight of the full bucket of fresh water at your bedside, along with empty drinking bowls.
Has she not been tended to all day? Not a sip to drink? Ka’ani thinks to himself, concerned as to why Tak’s mate would be alone, uncared for and in heat of all things.
You finally muster up the energy to tug the sodden sheet over your naked body and scoot back further to the frame of the bed. “Ralak said he will be back soon. You should leave if y-you want to live.” You lie, feeling a little threatened that a male na’vi has barged into your marui while you’re in heat.
“Yeah, I don’t believe that for a second, y/n. None of this makes sense.” Ka’ani speaks, taking a few steps towards you.
You shuffle even further back only for your back to make contact with the bed frame. A rush of fear surges through you. The type of fear that has your heart twisting behind your ribs. You cross your legs over one another, bunching up the sheet between them and beg with trembling lungs, “P-Please, Ka’ani. Don’t.”
Ka’ani stops dead in his tracks, seemingly offended by your assumption that he’d be approaching you to do something that the great mother herself would look down upon. Sure, he tracked your scent last time, but he was here atone exactly for that.
“Syor [relax]. I would never do such a thing.” He says through gritted teeth, storming towards the bedside and quickly pouring you a drink. “No matter how strong your scent is. Although, you don’t smell all that great now that you’re mated.” He chuckles lightly as he hands you the drink. Your eyes jump between him and the cup in his hand before you struggle to sit up. His hand instinctively reaches out to assist you, but you bat it away and continue to pull yourself up.
“Just — let me help you.” He snaps, supporting your back when you finally give in. “Drink.” He commands, plunking the cup in your hand, taking a step back and crossing his arms.
You gulp down the water greedily, finally quenching your thirst and hoping it will provide some level of relief to your febrile condition. You hum to yourself as the water makes its way down your throat, but groan when you feel no better. Meanwhile, Ka’ani takes in your state, feeling a twinge in his heart for you when he sees how you’ve been suffering. You look more than uncomfortable. You look like you’re in pain.
“You’ll be alright, y/n. Just tell me where he went and I’ll go fetch him.” He speaks in a more gentle tone, taking the empty cup from your hand.
“I-I don’t — haah. He said he went… He went inland to hunt.” You blubber out, feeling your body heat to a dangerous degree. It has you shaking as you ease yourself back into a more comfortable position.
Ka’ani shakes his head a bit, “Inland to hunt? Really? When his mate is in heat? Tak would never. The only time he’d ever do that is if he is also… in rut.” Ka’ani stalls on the last few words that slip off his tongue, tasting them in his mouth as the realization sets in. Ka’ani quickly fills the cup, sets it next to you and bolts to the door. Before he ducks under the flap of your Marui, he looks over his shoulder and reassures you.
“Sit tight, forest girl. I know exactly where he is.”
— —
It’s been a few hours since coming to his usual spot — the waterfall with the coldest water known to the reef people. It is Ralaks most private and intimate place aside from his humble abode. A place where only a select few people know about. He’s most drawn to the low temperature of the water, making it a perfect environment to endure the heat of his rut in.
Despite doing this for the past few years, each cycle gets a little more intense. And this one is certainly no exception.
Ralak sits underneath the overhang, right in the dip of the plunge pool, and allows the water to beat on his back. He’s maintained this position for the past few hours, only releasing himself when the pressure in his core grows too much. A pressure so immense it would have his body acting on its own accord — a wandering hand finding its way to his swollen cock.
Truth be told, he hated the feeling.
He hated feeling so out of control. To be nothing but a slave to his own primal impulses. He’d fight it as much as he could, just like he is now, until the sensation is just too intense to ignore. Until he’s grunting and squirming with a body so heated it has him grinding his teeth.
He quickly stands up, tilting his head back and covering his face from the stream of the water with his hands. At this point his cock is so swollen that it’s outright painful, throbbing and pulsing from the lack of attention. He thinks of you — your thin tail and tiny stature. The way you lay in bed this morning before he left. Naked and exposed before his eyes. Eywa, how he wishes you were here. How he could finally spend his rut with his mate, but he just knows it would be too much for you to handle.
The thoughts of you make this no easier, sending his hips thrusting into the air — the running water stimulating his thudding cockhead. He groans from the immense pleasure a little water brings him. He’s neglected himself so badly to the point that he feels like this could really make him cum. But how many times has he cum by now?
Once? Twice? Thrice?
He lost count after the fifth time, not that he was keeping track anyways. If anything he was downright denying himself the pleasure, and convincing himself that he remained in control. But fuck, the image of your delicate body —the possibility that he could break you if he weren’t careful— pushes him over the edge. Before he can stop himself, his hot cum is spilling from his slit all over the length of his cock and he’s unable to keep his noises at a minimum.
“Mmmph.” His deep growl rumbles, a hand grabbing a firm hold of his jumping cock.
He squeezes what’s left out of his slit, finally looking down to see the state of himself. It’s red and raw — spikes fully erect and balls drawn so close to his body they’re practically hiding behind his thick knot. He lets out a loud sigh.
Relief.
Finally, he leans back against the rocky wall and slides down into the plunge pool, immersing himself chest deep into the water. He lightly treads back to the bank and makes himself comfortable — allowing his head to rest and body to relax. He takes a few deep breaths and tunes into the burble of the waterfall.
All until he hears the click of a —
Ka’ani?
“Tik-Tak.” Ka’ani clicks melodically, cautiously approaching the giant submerged in the waterfall. Ralak doesn’t budge. He remains fixed in position, eyes shut, head and elbows resting on the edge of the river. His chest heaves harshly as he attempts to remain in this less than tranquil state. “Never thought I’d see the day Ralak leaves his mate in heat. To be soaking in a waterfall of all things.”
Perhaps Ralak heard wrong. Leaving his mate in heat? Ralak would know if his mate were in heat. He would sense it. Whatever rubbish he’s spewing out, Ralak doesn’t have the time, nor patience, for it.
“Skxawng, what are you on about? Leave me be.” Ralak huffs, wiping the sweat from his face with a quick hand movement.
“Just as I thought. You’re all hot and bothered too, aren’t you?” Ka’ani chuckles.
“Leave.” Ralak says angrily, his purplish-blue eyes finally snapping up to meet Ka’ani’s. “I have just calmed.”
Ka’ani’s brows knit together, offended and a little confused with himself for being upset from the way Ralak is shooing him away.
“Oh c’mon brother. All I’ve been told today is to leave!” Ka’ani’s hands fly up as he takes a step forward. “First your mate, and now you. Am I really that unwanted?”
Now he’s got Ralaks attention.
Ralak gets a whiff of your sweet, sweet pheromones on him. As if he’s been around his tanhì. Scenting his tanhì. Touching his tanhì. His primal urges devour him once more, eating away at him until nothing but a possessive beast remains. One of pure territorial instinct.
“What did you do?” Ralak growls through a clenched jaw as he jumps out the water and approaches Ka’ani. “Scenting my mate again?” His voice booms as it increases in volume, yet lowers in depth. “Answer me. Did you touch her?!”
“No!” Ka’ani blurts out, now taking a few steps back with his hands splayed out in front of him. “Is that what you both really think of me? This is the last I ever do some—”
Ralak remains silent, taking quick, calculated strides directly towards Ka’ani, who is now backing up into a tree. Once his back hits the scaly bark, Ralaks' balled fist slams into the trunk, barely an inch away from Ka’ani’s skull.
“Alright! Alright. I know what I did before. I-I’m sorry. I came looking for you to apologise for that but I found her in heat. Okay? I came here as soon as I realized.”
Unsure of whether or not to believe a word coming from this skxawng’s mouth, Ralak steps away from his prey, bloody knuckled and full of uncertainty. But the one thing he is certain about is the fact that he wants no other na’vi to find you if you really are in heat. With a huff of defeat, he pushes past Ka’ani and bolts for the shore.
——
The trek back to the marui is twice as quick. Your pheromones are thick and potent, affecting him even a few feet away from the marui door. And when he steps through the marui door, he’s completely inundated with the thick fog of your pheromones. He feels lost in himself, struggling not to succumb to his instincts. Struggling to regain control.
“Ma’ L-Lak?” You mewl shakily.
You can smell him, just like he can smell you. It only drives you further into your heat, your trembling body now shaking a little more. Sensing that your mate is in close proximity, your scent glands release more of your aphrodisiac to lure him in. In turn, this has its effects on your body — sending you into a submissive state where you feel too heavy to even lift a finger. You lay there, legs splayed out and glossy fingered.
You watch through blurred vision as the tall and thick silhouette quickly makes its way towards you. Ralak grabs and firmly holds your legs back as he leans in close, making the confirmation that his mate is indeed in heat. He lingers a little longer than he can control, taking everything in him to pull away and calm down — panting and out of breath.
“It is true.” He huffs, towering over your tiny, shivering frame. “In heat.” The two words drip off his tongue, much like the thick nectar dripping from your slit.
“Lak. Oh — lak. ’ts you.” You cry out in relief, clawing at his thigh to bring him back to you, “‘m so happy it’s you ‘nd not someone else.” His teeth grit as your hand grazes his thigh, but he remains fixed in place, unsure of his ability to keep his composure if he allows himself to give in to your touches.
What is he supposed to do now?
He didn’t think this far into his plan… for once in his life. Typically he’s quite calculated and certain of his next move but now — now he’s not sure how he’s going to deal with this. He just knew that he couldn’t leave you alone. Not for another man to find and claim you in the way that only he should. But he has to remain himself. For you. He swallows down his uncertainty before speaking.
“I should have stayed.” He looks down at the flushed, puffy flesh between your legs with a rapacious glint in his eye. “I am sorry.”
“Don’t be. Just p-please. It’s to-o much. T-Too hot. It aches, karyu.” Ralak winces when you groan the last few words, it’s almost painful to resist you at this point. You go to claw at this thigh once more, only for him to shift away. “No, don’t do that. Not right now. N-Need you so ba—”
“My rut came. This morning.” He’s quick to cut you off with a strained, yet monotonous voice, unable to peel his eyes away from your swollen cunt.
“I-I know.” You pant, earning a twitch of Ralaks brows. “‘nd t-that’s good. Ngh—that’s really good, I-I can help you too.” You mumble, sticking your hand between your legs to fondle with yourself. With the way he grimaces one side of his face, it seems as if he wants to look away, but can’t.
“No, tanhì. We spoke of this.” His accent is thick as he struggles to string the words together, “No control. Trying hard…” he inhales quickly, eyes plastered to the sight in front of him, “…not to lose it.”
At this point the haze of your heat has you lethargically shaking your head from side to side, mumbling whatever frustrated-fueled words that first come to you “…haven’t cum yet…”, you squirm around to find a position that allows your wandering fingers better access to your hole, “…need to cum.” You slur the words as you barely slip two fingers inside you and you quietly sob when they provide very little release.
“Ralak!” You cry loudly enough to at last lure his gaze up to yours, the night sea finally meeting the roaring flame. Your voice quiets down into a soft whimper, “Please. Just t-try. Please.”
A moment of silence passes where you and Ralak stare at one another, hearts pounding and chests heaving, understanding exactly how the other feels. The burning desire to come together. The resistance, yet the lack of control. The eternal flame within. The heat.
Ralak breaks eye contact to glance at your slender fingers working as hard as they can. He breathes a heavy sigh, feeling a pang of guilt for leaving you when he sees just how raw you are from being in heat all alone. He’s responsible for you even being in this bad of a state, isn’t he? Leaving you before sunrise with nothing but a kiss on the head. If anything that only made it more intense for you. He wants to — no, needs to care for you. It’s what every part of himself is urging him to do.
“The thought of another finding you… like this.” Ralak rasps as he closes in on you, “so vulnerable… it makes me — haah.” He cuts himself off with a shaky sigh and a clench to his jaw. Beads of sweat ball on his temples, slowly rolling down his angular jaw to eventually meet and drip from his chin onto your stomach. He looms over you, his hair flowing forward when he suddenly grabs and tugs at your wrist in one swift move, yanking your fingers out of you.
“Ss-ah!” You hiss with a wince, heart skipping a beat when you realise that he’s barely there anymore. “I-It makes you, what?” You ask quietly — nervously, even.
A bestial growl begins to rumble in his chest, causing a shiver to ripple through you—hardening your nipples into peaks within seconds. Jawbone fluttering from his reluctance to answer, he harshly cups your pussy with his hand, causing you to gasp. His sharp, intimidating stare locks with yours, brows tensing as he allows two, thickset fingers to slip down to your slickened opening. His growl fades into a single, drawn out word.
“Nìfmokx. [jealous]”
His admission slips past his lips just as his fingers sink into your aching core, leaving your mouth agape and hot tears spilling over your cheeks. Jealousy isn’t an emotion Ralak is used to feeling. Much less something he would subject you to experience with him. But you could see the raw emotion in his eyes, as they flicker from a dark blue to something even deeper. It’s the way his stare bores into your innermost being as he fills you up with his digits alone, telling you that you were his, and his only.
He hooks his fingers right into your gummy walls, holding his position as he moves his hand in an up and down motion at full tilt. The tips of his fingers repeatedly slam into your swelling sweet spot, coaxing out broken, filthy noises from your throat. He hums with pride, yet his face remains stone cold, minus the occasional twitch of his jawbone. He’s trying so hard to keep at a steady pace, and not to be too rough with your fragility.
“Oh f-fuck.” You curse under your breath, both hands grabbing a firm hold of his forearm. You’ve been unintentionally edging yourself all day that you’re already almost there. And no matter how hard you squeeze and claw at his now-veiny arm, he remains unmoving.
“Go on, then.” He huffs impatiently as he looks down at you, feeling your walls clamp down on his fingers. Your heels sink into the bed when you push your hips into the air, fingernails digging into his skin as you near your first release. You begin to whimper, bucking your hips to chase the feeling of relief. It’s right there. It’s so close; and you just need to allow it to wash through you. You tense up so badly your whole body shakes, sending your teeth chattering and your bottom lip quivering. You swear you can see the stars from the night sky litter your vision and feel your heavy lids flutter shut.
“Look at me.” Ralak demands in a sharp, gruff tone. Your glossy eyes shoot back up to his, and you start to sputter out whatever gibberish comes from your mouth — a few curses mixed with his name and your fathers’ mother-tongue. He continues to glare down at you with a rigid face, tensing his jaw as he wills himself to be gentle and patient with you. “Good. Now cum, little one.”
Your pathetic noises suddenly fade into a sweet, little cry. A cry of relief when your frustration washes away as you finally come undone on his fingers. The alleviation is so intense that it’s almost consuming; “T-Thank—” you collapse back down onto the bed, “—you. Thank you—haah, thank you karyu.” You pant repeatedly, his forearm ripping from your grip when he unexpectedly wrenches his fingers out of you. You squirm from the sudden emptiness, “Wait—”
“Do not thank.” He spits the accented words as he stumbles back to create some distance between the two of you. He pants as he attempts to recollect himself, his face of stone finally screwing into something of a grimace. “So…if another na’vi found you, would you thank him too? Hm?”
“Lak. I… N-No.” You stutter, unsure of what to even say.
“You are mine. My mate…” he growls through thinned lips, “My duty. Understand?”
“Yes.” You nod quickly, feeling your cheeks heat up. It arouses you to see him so jealous. So possessive. So assertive.
Ralak slams his eyes shut and gulps so hard it’s audible —visible even. You could see the bump in the column of his throat quickly undulate, his chest heaving harshly and his shoulders dramatically rising and falling with each breath he struggles to take. And for a while, there’s nothing but silence and his heavy breathing that you feel the overwhelming need to break it.
“Ralak.”
Your trembling, tiny voice snapping his head back up to you, once tightly closed eyes now flying open to reveal the most beautiful shade of mauve. They pierce into you like a spear through an unsuspecting prey, full of nothing but pure, unadulterated greed.
You never thought you’d see them again except in that vision. You get lost in them for a little, studying how the gold ring around his blown pupils still remains even in a sea of indigo.
You sense that he’s in the thick of his rut now and you need to relieve him soon, like he did for you. Or only Eywa knows what will happen. You allow yourself to finally take in the man before you in full, eyes trailing down his sweaty, muscular physique — perfectly carved v-lines and six fingered tattoo — until they land on his aching cock.
Oh, fuck. Is he bigger? You think, admiring his mushroomy head and erect spikes. It’s oozing and dripping, unable to keep still from how hard it’s pulsing. It’s at least an inch bigger than usual.
You look away to study his facial expression and by the way he’s looking at you, you can tell he’s waiting for your command, trying his hardest to prevent himself from pouncing on you and fucking you senseless right here and now. You’ve never seen him this way before. Straining so hard to keep himself in one position and struggling to keep his hands to himself.
“Ralak… More.” You spread your legs as wide as they can go, holding them apart by the bend of your knees, exposing yourself completely. His heavy lidded eyes widen almost as much as your legs, pointed ears flicking upwards in excitement when he sees you assume such a vulnerable and submissive position.
“Y/n.” He groans, voice thick with arousal and want and maybe a little desperation as he takes in the sweet sight of your still-pulsing and swollen clit poking out between your folds. “I am… losing control.”
Hearing your name fall from his lips in this way — this tone, instantaneously reignites the flame in your core. In seconds your slit is practically dripping, forming a pool of your slick underneath you. “Good.” You pant as you stare up into his slit-like pupils. You swallow quickly before mustering up the courage to invite the beast in. “Now…remind me who I belong to.”
How could he resist now?
With the way you’re talking and your pheromones so pungent that they fill his lungs to the brim with no space for any other option but to fall into the thick of his rut. Before you can formulate another thought in your foggy state, Ralak has your legs pinned back and is diving nose first into your cunt.
He wastes no time to have his fill of you, lapping up your juices so desperately your body moves from the force of his licks. He has been wanting to taste you ever since you made a mess on his fingers, fuck — ever since he got a whiff of your scent from outside his marui door, but denied himself the pleasure in the case he couldn’t stop himself from going any further. But now, all restraint and denial is now left out at that very door.
The flat of his tongue trails up your inner thigh and then back to your folds, tasting a mixture of the sweetness of your slick and the saltiness of your sweat. He groans when his tongue finally grazes past your clit, feeling it throb against his taste buds. He lingers there for a while, swirling and sucking on you until he unlatches to come up for a quick breath of air.
“Fucking ftxìlor [delicious].” He gasps out a curse, shoving your legs even further back to have seconds of his meal.
It becomes evident that he’s doing this for himself. Because if he were doing this solely for you, he would have made you cum by now. He’s eating you out as if he’s been starved for weeks, sucking and popping off your clit just to lap up the sweet, sticky nectar seeping from your hole just to coat his tongue.
He’s nowhere near as quiet as he usually is, grunting and groaning as he swallows your juices. His fingernails dig into your thighs as he tries to keep himself from being too rough with your tiny, dainty body. But, his attempts prove to be futile once you feel your hips lift off the ground from his grip tightening around your thighs. You stare at the sight of your mate between your legs, crinkling his forehead and squeezing his eyes shut as he can’t stop himself from indulging in his urges.
“Fuck me!” You let out a frustrated moan, your heat having you so on edge you need to cum again.
His eyes fly open, and within moments he’s tucked under your hips, pelvises flush together as he rests his throbbing, neglected cock between your folds. His tip touches your belly button with ease, beads of precum oozing out of his slit one after the next.
“This is what you want, yes?” He bucks his hips into you, the tip of his cock smearing his slick all over your deep blue skin.
“Fuck, yes.” You whisper shakily, chin meeting your chest to look at the masterpiece he’s painting on you. “I want my mates cock.”
He only responds with a rough growl, flipping you over and pushing you onto your stomach.
“Oh shit.” You mutter under your breath, a little afraid of what you’ve gotten yourself into. But you trust Ralak.
You know that even in rut he would never hurt you. Not intentionally, at least. Of course this is not to say that he would be gentle —you expect that anything but.
With a firm hand to your upper back, his body is pressed against yours and his face nuzzled into the crook of your neck. He breathes in deeply through his nose, holding it in his lungs, and then letting out a hot, shaky breath against your skin, finally allowing himself to really take in your scent.
He almost becomes drunk off it— at least it feels that way for him. Your scent has him feeling like he’s downed two full bottles of fermented fruit with no chasers in between and he simply can’t get enough of it.
Hand moving swiftly from your back to your head, he pins your face to the bed as he trails his tongue along your jawbone to the nape of your neck. He lingers a little longer than he can help, suckling on and grazing his pointed canines against the skin. It sends shivers down your spine until your tail curls into the air and back arches in complete submission. You push back into him, feeling his hardened length pressed between the swell of your ass and base of your tail.
Fuck, you just want it inside you already.
“Lifting your tail for me, hm?” He huffs, puckering his lips against your skin and suckling tenderly. You can feel the emptiness creep back in, and that maddening itch deep in your womb. You moan softly, like a low hum under your breath, which only riles him up more. He feels like he wants to make you his all over again.
To mate with you.
To mark you as his in every way so that no other man would even dare look your way. Without warning, Ralak pushes up off you, his sinewy arms caging you in with one hand binding your wrists and the other keeping your head pinned to the bed. His legs hold yours down, his knees locking your ankles in place.
“You belong to me.” He growls next to your ear, his hand abruptly leaving your head to reach for the base of his skull for his kuru. With a quick tug, he brings it over his shoulder and pops it into his mouth to hold with his teeth. He reaches for your kuru that lies innocently in the dip of your back, and brings it towards his mouth.
A wave of anxiety washes over you when the image of Ka’ani finding you earlier in your own mess flashes before you. You can’t help but wonder if he would see that if he made tsaheylu right now. Imagine how he’d react when he realizes Ka’ani saw you naked and covered in slick? Your body squirmed at the mere thought, only making Ralak tighten his grip on you.
“Wait!” Is all you could blubber out before you feel the connection —the bond. Your eyes bulge when you feel him surge through you, two minds becoming one. It takes you by surprise, he’s never one to hastily or unexpectedly make tsaheylu with you. But tonight he makes the bond as if you were a tsurak to be tamed.
What he sees next drives him further into his territorial urges — your interaction with Ka’ani. The way Ka’ani barged into his home. How he saw your naked, vulnerable body. The fear that you felt when another man invaded your space. When he helped you. Innocently touched you.
“He touched you.” He says between pants, a mixture of emotions washing over him all at once. But the sharp pang of your heat transferring through tsaheylu has him entirely succumbing to his own urges and carnal instincts.
He’s simply not there.
His hips start bucking uncontrollably and his cock is poking and prodding at your puffy folds. The crown of his cock jabs at your clit a few times before finally parting your folds and with a quick snap of his hips he’s probing your entrance.
It stings when his swollen cockhead breaks past the resistance of your tightness, and he can’t help but lay hold of your hip and hiss from how tiny you feel. This is the first he’s ever had his cock stuffed inside a pussy during his rut. The feeling is all-consuming and he unapologetically yearns for more.
Hips snapping back, he pops his cockhead out of you only to shove it back in again. And again. And again until he’s repeatedly using your tight, little hole as nothing more than a fucktoy for his own self pleasure.
He leans back to take in the hazy sight, admiring the way your hole stretches perfectly to accommodate the sheer thickness of his cock. And when he sees the mushroomy part of his head slowly emerge he can’t help the way his hips stutter just to sink it back inside you.
It’s torturous, not having all of him inside you when that’s what your body is pining for most. He’s so much bigger than normal and you know that this is an itch that only he can scratch. “God—” You whine the foreign word, “—just fuck me already!”
“Agh. Quiet.” He lets out an irritated grunt, both hands flying to your hips to shove you down onto his cock — a loud, audible smack permeating the air when your sticky pelvises collide.
It almost overpowers the hoarse yet piercing cry that escapes your quivering lips. You’re so tender that the sudden stretch is too intense and with no time to adjust to his size you find yourself shuddering like you did after he took your innocence —your virginity.
His head dips back in ecstasy just when his tip kisses your cervix, his eyes screwed shut as he tries not to spray his seed inside your womb right now. His fingers sink into your skin, surely leaving bruises behind that will last for weeks.
“Hngh — woman.” He groans longingly, dropping his head forward and opening his ineberated eyes to witness how your cunt is sucking in every single inch of his cock with glee.
He grinds himself inside you, tugging at your hips and pushing against the resistance as if he were trying to stuff more of his cock inside you. Your high-pitched shrill fades out into a pathetic little whimper, your wobbly elbows and knees struggling to keep you up.
It’s all too much and your fucked out mind goes blank. You can’t even process how your body is submitting to its owner and his rough touches, opening itself up to be bred already. You sense what’s coming next. Your back bows, elbows and knees burying into the softness of the bed as you try to ground yourself for Ralak to use you for his own relief.
He does exactly that— hunching over you and shuffling his knees closer so he can gain more leverage to fuck into your slippery cunt. He puts all his weight on you, his fingernails almost piercing your skin when he begins rutting into you like his life depends on it.
He sets a merciless pace right off the bat, pounding into you as if he were angry with you. He huffs and puffs from trying to catch his breath but fails because he can’t stop himself from humping at you. His body won’t let him, not until he’s ensured you're full with his seed and will bear his child.
Hands quickly leaving your hips, he grabs your wrists, binding them together once more and the other grips your kuru and yanks it back. Your neck is exposed and your mouth hangs agape as you’re given no other choice but to take the jackhammering of your life. He’s never fucked you so hard or fast and perhaps it’s the haze of your heat but you just want more of him.
“F-Fuck. FuckFuckFuckmeFuckme— yes!” You beg deliriously, pushing yourself back onto him. You can feel the way his cock is bulging from your lower stomach, but you couldn’t care less because you just want it even deeper inside you. Fuck, it hurts even but it feels so good that you can’t stop begging for more. “Deeper — oh, yesyesyes!”
Ralaks groans become drawn out and he’s burying his hot face into the crook of your neck as his pulsing tip bullies its way past your cervix. It’s like white hot pleasure surging through your entire being and it has you so lightheaded you may actually pass out before he’s finished with you.
His cock heats up inside your cunt, becoming so veiny you could practically feel each vein press against your gummy, slimy walls. He’s now panting open mouthed against your throat, his tongue darting out to lick your skin. He shoves your head down so he can access the back of your neck—a hot spot for your pheromones— and grazes his canines against you. Every fiber of his being is urging him to sink them into your skin and see if you taste as good as you smell. His fangs throb in his mouth at the mere thought, his hot saliva dripping off their length and down your neck.
You’re so overwhelmed and overstimulated that you can’t form a coherent thought much less process the fact that you’re quickly nearing your climax. It’s as if you’ve surrendered all control over your body to him and he’s dictating what happens next. Your pussy walls tighten around him so much it aches and he outright whimpers.
“Sst-ah.” He pulls away from your neck and slams his eyes shut, grimacing from the way your cunt is gripping his cock. At this point you’re so on edge that you’re just pinching him, locking him inside you and almost cutting off his blood supply. It’s more than painful for him, and he becomes peeved that you won’t ease up.
Irritated, he aggressively slams himself into you so that you stop with your pathetic little pinching, but all that does is tip you over the edge. Next thing you know your cunt is helplessly fluttering around his cock and your pussy juices are trickling down your thighs.
“Mmm-fuck I’m cumming!” You moan the words so quickly they jumble together, “Cu-cumming! Cumming!”
You throbbing around him has his eyes rolling into the back of his head but the more your body convulses underneath him the more he grows frustrated with you. How could such a little thing put on such a big performance? Why won’t you just stay still?
So he thrusts. And thrusts. And thrusts.
Taming you in the only way his body knows how. Fucking into you without mercy or sympathy. He lets out a hiss, the first he’s ever directed your way, and tightens his grip. “Keep…” He pulls out of you until only the tip is left inside, “...still.” Ralak’s deep voice rumbles next to your ear as he slams every inch cock into your cunt, the mere force of his thrust almost knocking you onto your stomach. You let out a broken whimper, coming down from your high and already feeling the coil in your stomach wind and heat up again.
“Haa—‘nna…make you swell.” He groans the fragmented sentence like a dying man, grinding so deeply inside you that his swollen balls rub against your puffed up clit. Your bruised cervix feels so good against his cock as he uses it to massage the most sensitive part of his tip.
Experiencing nothing but absolute rapture, Ralaks head slumps into the crook of your neck, where he’s flooded by your scent. He only grinds harder. And harder, until he’s panting like a viperwolf against your skin.
“Fuck — please…” You beg through a shaky whisper, trying to free your hands from his undying grip, “I j-ust c-came.”
He’s just so fucking big and deep that he’s touching parts of you that have never touched before, and he’s only getting more aggressive the more you push away his advances. Right now, you’re just a squirming, noisy bitch in heat that needs to be put in her place. To surrender and submit. And the pheromones wafting up his nostrils only drive him further into his bestial urges to claim you as his.
His teeth and gums throb in his mouth once more when the urge to mark you as his becomes indubitable. Much like the urge to keep you still enough to make you into a vessel for his seed. He indulges himself, yanking your head back to expose the bend of your shoulder. He hovers open mouthed over your flawless skin and gives you a kitten lick before ruthlessly marking you.
Your eyes bulge and pupils constrict into nothing but dots when you feel his lengthy fangs plunge into your flesh. The wail evading your throat is deafening and only gets higher when you feel your shoulder set ablaze. His jaw locks into place and he holds you still as he incessantly claims you as his in more ways than just marking. Your eyes start to water and your body stiffens when you feel it.
He’s bulging inside you.
Stretching you out until your shoulder isn’t the only part of you on fire. You lash around, clawing at whatever’s in your way until your nails are dull but the more you move the more it burns. “Y-You’re getting bigger inside me!” You release a high pitched squeal, your elbows and knees finally collapsing under you. Now all his weight is on top of you, pinning you flat to the bed with nowhere for you to go. He begins groaning low and deep, drawing it out until it turns into a depraved growl. It feels as if he’s swelling inside you, as if he were doubling in size. As if he were — oh fuck.
“You’re — you’re knotting me, lak!” You yell when you come to the realisation. It feels like there’s two of him inside you, stretching you to unfathomable lengths. Despite your continuous attempts to get him to let up, he continues to bulge inside you. “You’re knotting me.” You repeat the words in a weakened, croaky voice of defeat, finally giving in and accepting your fate.
Riding out his high, his hips stutter out of his control — a familiar sensation now flooding your core. A rush of warmth inside you. It’s his hot seed pumping inside you, his cock thumping with each spurt. He groans and moans until you’re so overloaded with his cum it begins to drip down your thighs and mix with yours.
He unlatches from your shoulder, lapping at the wound to prevent it from bleeding too badly. He plants a few rough kisses on the double crescent shaped mark and works them up to the lobe of your ear. He’s panting and sweating and he can feel the fog lifting now that he’s had his release. “‘m sorry.” He mumbles between wet kisses, now trailing them back down to the fresh wound to lap at it some more. “‘m sorry.”
“Ralak, I-I” You stutter, overloaded with all these new sensations. It’s burning worse than a hellfire wasp sting but at the same time it’s everything your body hungers for. “Haah.. it-it hurts” You whimper quietly, looking behind you to see the most inebriated eyes you’ve ever seen on this man’s face stare back at you. He releases his pheromones to help your body calm down and feel less pain, ultimately scenting you all together.
“Mawey.” Ralak huffs, trying his hardest to stay still now that he’s quickly coming to the realisation that he’s knotted and marked you in one go. “Doing… so well, tahnì.” He tries to praise you but truthfully he’s still in and out of it, dazing off when he feels the occasional throb of your walls.
“Am I? Am I helping you too, lak?” You ask in a surprisingly optimistic tone, proud that you were able to do what you were told was unmanageable. He musters out a nod, grunting as he finishes emptying himself in your womb.
Feeling some level of sense and rationality, you ask him a question that’s been on your mind. “I’m going to get pregnant, aren’t I?”
“Mm.” He hums, nodding his head as he nuzzles himself into the dip of your shoulder, inhaling your seeping scent.
“Is that what you w-want?” Your breath hitches as you flinch from his cheek resting on your shoulder.
“Mm.” Another grunt, followed by an unexpected, fervid thrust — his body answering your question on his behalf by ensuring every last drop of his essence is inside your fertile womb.
You focus on steadying your breathing now that you’ve gotten your answer.
“Irayo, muntxate [thank you, wife].” He says weakly, finally rolling you both onto your sides for some much needed rest. You chuckle. A weak one, but a chuckle nonetheless, and repeat his own words back to him.
“Do not thank.” You say with a smile, getting yourself as comfortable as you can for the long night ahead.
——
#ralak#ralak smut#avatar smut#awow smut#metkayina#metkayina smut#metkayina oc#oc smut#avatar oc smut#awow oc smut#sully reader#sully reader x oc#oc x sully reader#oc x sully reader smut#na'vi smut#na'vi x reader#na'vi x sully reader#na'vi avatar#smut#metkayina x omaticaya#metkayina x omaticaya smut#metkayina x fem reader#ralak x y/n#ralak x reader#ralak x you#heat cycles#heat cycle#rut cycle#rut cycles
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Ralak te Sepwan ieyk’itan: Chapter Three
An Illustrated Collaboration with @zestys-stuff
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 creator @zestys-stuff.
Characters: Metkayina!Ralak (24) x Sully!Omaticaya!Reader (19)
Warnings: nsfw, smut, fluff, angst, ptsd/ flashbacks, profanity, age gap, sexual tension, size difference/kink, praise kink, jealousy, scenting, fingering, recollection of non-con trauma (for the plot), alcohol consumption/drunk character, let me know if i forgot anything?
Word Count: 6.3k
Requested: Yes || No
Author’s Note: Sorry this one took a while, been a hell of a week. It's got a lot of angst, so prep yourselves guysss. Ends with smut, ofc. I hope you guys enjoy 🤍
Synopsis: Your family seeks uturu with the Metkayina in the village of Awa’atlu. You have a difficult time adjusting, and are assigned your own special teacher, Ralak.
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“Y/n. For the love of Christ, you better tell me that the storm held ya up last night.” Jakes voice rings in your ear, waking you up.
Oh shit.
You look to your left to see the first rays of sunlight shining on Ralak’s sleeping, naked body, chest heaving slowly from his unfaltering breaths. Perched on his side, his face sits in his palm, as if he’s fallen asleep partially sitting up. Two fingers still nestled inside you, his facial muscles are slightly tensed, like he’s ready wake up any minute and tend to your every need, just like he’s been doing all night long.
“Get your ass home. Now.” Jakes irate voice brings you back to reality.
Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit.
What were you going to tell Jake? That the storm did keep you up? He’d never believe that. Not for a second. Either way, if you didn’t go now, this man would skin the love of your life. Unmated, in his bed, all before your second iknimaya? He’d try, at least.
“Sst-ah.” you let out a shaky breath, grimacing as you pull his fingers out of you. They’re covered in your cum, so much so that a thick string of slick connects you to his fingers when you pull your pelvis away. You scramble to your feet, wiping yourself up with the already damp cloth next to his bed.
I’ll be back, my love. You think, looking over at him one last time before rushing out of his marui.
On your way to the cave, you try to assess your state. It’s hard to tell, given the fact that your heart is pounding at a speed only an ikran could attain. Anxiety streams through your veins, but otherwise, you feel fairly normal. Maybe a little bit like you did after your first iknimaya, when you passed your dream hunt and had one too many glow worms. But nothing unmanageable.
Guess it’s over.
Finally arriving at the cave, frantic eyes search the body of water for your loincloth. It’s floating at the far end of the lake, so you dive in. As you’re swimming, you catch a whiff of your own scent, mixed with Ralak’s. You bring your arm to your nose and take a deep breath. “Fuck.” you curse under your breath, submerging your entire body in the water, trying to bathe his scent off you.
You knew you scented each other, but you didn’t know that it would linger this long. You scrub your body, paying extra attention to your chest and neck. Time is going faster than you can move. But it’s like the more you scrub, the more you rub it into your skin – into your essence.
“Forget this.” you huff, grabbing your loincloth and swimming back to sand. You wring it out, slip inside and tie the knot hastily. One last look back on his marui pod, and you’re gone like the wind – quick and silent.
The trek back home is nerve-wracking, you feel so uneasy that you could feel something in your throat. A lump. You swallow repeatedly, trying to get rid of it, but it grows a little bigger for every step you take. By the time you’re at your marui door, you feel like you can’t breathe.
Neteyam smells you first, wreaking of a male na’vi, nose scrunching at the odour. He huffs a harsh breath through his nostrils, attempting to rid the lingering scent from of his lungs. He examines your condition – clammy skin with little colour left in it. Eyes trailing up to your face, he could see the fear written all over it, along with something else. Something like –
“Jesus, what the hell were you thinking?!” Jake hisses through clenched teeth.
“D-dad. I-I can explain.” you stutter, throat so tight you can barely speak.
Jake pulls his head back, eyelids blinking furiously. It’s as if the scent quite literally hit him, square in the jaw. With his suspicions confirmed, his lips stretch into a thin line, his go to expression of disapproval. The type that makes your ears lay flat against your skull, and bottom lip jut out.
“I can smell him on you.” Jake brushes past you. “Stay with your brother.”
“Dad, please.” your voice is strained, fighting against the lump in your throat. “Where are you going?”
He stops dead in his tracks, back still turned to you, a hand flying up to his face to pinch the bridge of his nose. “To Tonowari, kid. Tsireya will teach you from now on.” He heaves a heavy sigh and walks away.
The anxiety quickly morphs into anger, bubbling in your veins and sizzling your skin. Your short fuse blows. How could he take this away from you? You weren’t a ‘kid’ anymore. You had passed your iknimaya back home, and you’re on the brink of passing it here, too. Despite that, he always treats you like this, like the late bloomer you are. He didn’t even care to know what really happened.
“Not a fucking kid!” you shout after him, only for him to shake his head and continue walking.
“Sis.” Neteyam mutters, gently guiding you into the marui pod by your arm.
You shrug him off, storming past him to dive into your bed, burying your face into your pillow – damp from last night’s tears. It only becomes wetter as your fresh tears stream down your face. You couldn’t help it, you cried whenever you felt overwhelmed with anything. Sadness. Happiness. Anger. Frustration.
The sound of your privacy curtain being drawn back snaps your head up from your pillow. It’s Neteyam, standing over you with a face of concern, a bowl of steamed fish in one hand and a cup of water in the other. He sighs quietly, crouching down to come eye to eye with you. “You were in heat, weren’t you?” He states, already knowing the answer. “You should eat and drink something.” He places the bowl and cup on the floor next to you.
You sit up, supporting your torso with your arms behind your back. Neteyam. The older, caring bother, always looking out for everyone but himself. Of course, he would be the one to care enough to find out what you’ve been through the past day. “Yup. Late bloomer finally got her heat.” you speak of yourself harshly, taking the cup of water and chugging it.
“You smell gross.” he chuckles breathily, nudging the bowl of fish closer to you.
“Thanks, big brother. Appreciate it.” you giggle between cries, nudging it back to him. “Not hungry.”
His arms rest on his knees, braids swaying in his face as he looks behind him before dropping his head. “Agh.” he lifts his head, staring at you for a few seconds, as if he were contemplating something. “You should not have done that. Not before your iknimaya.”
“I didn’t! Nothing... like that happened, Tey. Ralak isn’t like that.” your head hangs low as you utter the words. “He’s... a gentle giant.”
Neteyam scoffs, straightening his spine. “Gentle giant? He looks like he eats na’vi for breakfast.”
“Hey –” you sniffle, glaring up at him, “I like him, Tey. A lot. He’s good for me.”
Neteyam’s features soften. As if hearing your words plucked a string of sympathy in his heart. As much as he wants to help you, he can’t. Not with a direct order from his father. He shakes his head, eyes closed, and brows furrowed.
That’s his way of saying, ‘Sorry. Can’t’.
You sigh, bringing your knees to your chest to hide your face. You can smell Ralak’s scent now that your nose is near your thighs. It fills your lungs with every breath you take. His pheromones. His aphrodisiac. His arousal. He left it all on you, rubbed into your skin so deep it seems to have altered your own scent.
Is this what scenting does?
Soon you’re breathing heavily, trying to savour what left you have of him – of last night. It makes you heavy in the head, like all the strength has left your body. You feel your face warm up, the heat spreading to the tips of your ears. You’re tired. Defeated.
“Neteyam! Neteyam!” Lo’ak’s faint voice sounds frantic.
You hear Neteyam shuffling to his feet to go and check what his brother is on about. “Stay here, got it?”
“Mhm.” you hum, too tired to even lift your head.
The sound of Lo’ak yanking back your privacy curtain makes you jump out of your skin, nearly knocking over the bowl of steamed fish. You stare up at him wide eyed, to see him motioning over to the door of your marui. Your brows kiss in confusion, unsure of what’s going on.
“Heard you were in... hea-a situation. Just gonna borrow big bro for a second, cool?” he raises his brows, nudging his head towards the door in an emphasized manner.
A smile pulls at your lips once you realize what he’s doing for you. You wipe your puffy eyes with the back of your hand and shuffle to your feet. “I owe you, Lo’.”
Ralak’s POV
Ralak rouses to an empty bed. He sits up quickly, scanning his marui for any sign of you. Nothing. The only thing that remains is your potent scent flooding the room. The only proof that you were ever here. “Oh, y/n.” he groans, head slumping into his hands.
You were gone. Gone like you were never here to begin with. Taking a moment to gather his thoughts, he tried not to assume the worst. But what if – what if it was the worst? To be used and discarded like an object. All over again. Surely, there’s no way that you would do this to him, not after opening-up to you like that. Not after last night. Not after the words you uttered to one another before going to sleep –
‘I love you’.
But why does it feel the same? The same as that day. The day he was in a marui pod like this one, young, bare skinned and short haired, kneeling before his own karyu. His chest tightens, the walls of his throat closing in on one another. He can feel it creeping up his spine. The flashbacks. The tremors. The nausea. Rushing to his feet, he makes his way over to the shelf well-stocked with bottles of ‘fermented fruit’ – pxir [beer; alcohol].
A poison to many, but an antidote to him.
Dust had settled on the bottles since the last day he reached for them. The day you became his tanhì. That’s why he had never brought you up here, he never wanted you to see the truth. The way he copes with his emotions – bottling them up and then chugging it down when they became just too much.
The bottle opens with a pop, strong, bitter scent wafting up his nose, replacing the scent of you in his lungs. He takes a quick swig, baring his teeth from the sting of it trickling down his throat. “Ahh.” He sighs a breath of relief, feeling the alcohol already taking effect, loosening his chest, and clearing his throat.
Yet he can still feel the shiver of his spine, and the churn of his stomach.
“Shit.” he curses, taking another swig. Cursing himself for trusting another after he made the vow to never trust again. Another swig. For facing the part of him that he’s denied since he came into adulthood. Another swig. For letting someone in. Another swig. For allowing himself to love you.
Alas, a clear mind and body – rid of the memories of his past.
He readies himself for his bath, something he often did to relax. Just like he did last time you left him.
----
Time is of the essence. With no idea of when Jake will be back, you move quickly. You weave through the webbing of the mangrove roots, ducking and dodging those that jut out. You take a short cut, bouncing over the netting of a cluster of marui pods on the way to Ralak’s.
Eyes guardedly stuck to your feet, you bump into Ka’ani, the man who replaced Ralak’s role as fisherman – faceplanting into his bare chest. Arms instinctively wrapping around you, he holds you close until you regain your balance. Admittedly, he’s a little too close for comfort, his face nestled in the crown of your head. You hear quick, nasally breaths, muffled by your hair.
Is he... sniffing me right now?
You shove him off you, probably a little too rough to be considered friendly, and take a few steps back. “Sorry, Ka’ani.” you mutter, gingerly walking around him.
“No problem, at all.” he smirks, raising his hands and making space for you to leave.
With a quick shake of your head, you continue making your way to Ralak. The closer you get, the more a giddy smile spreads across your face. Though you were the bearer of bad news, you can’t ignore the flutters in your stomach. The same flutters you had when you first laid eyes on him – the day Eywa herself told you he’s the one.
Your mate.
Your legs move faster, as fast as they can go, until the sand slackens your steps. Silky, fine sand – always the first thing to let you know that you’ve arrived. You can’t help the excitement bubbling from your tummy and up your throat. “Ralak!” you blurt out, eager to find your love.
A tall figure in the distance catches your eye, it looks as if he were going into the cave. You wave your hands above your head, shouting his name as you lope towards him. “Ralak!”
The figure stops, turning around to acknowledge your calls. He stands still for a minute, before walking towards you with a stagger in his step. Tail perking up instantaneously, your hand flies to your bare hip, searching for your medicine pouch. You’re running on the tips of your toes again, concern and worry replacing the flutters low in your belly.
“Wha-t is it?” you shout, voice wavering as you close the distance between your bodies.
You crash into him with a smack, making the typically sturdy giant wobble. Now your ears art alert, perturbed by his odd behaviour. Gently pushing you away, his large hands grip your upper arms, fingertips touching once another. Blue, hazed orbs peer down at you, extra glossy and lidded.
“Are you sick? Wounded?” you question, resisting his gentle pushes to search his body.
Nostrils flickering above his pursed lips, he leans into your neck. He pulls back with a huff, blowing hot air through his nose, onto your face. Your eyelashes flutter, face of concern quickly morphing into one of confusion.
Everyone is sniffing me today.
Head snapping to the left, his eyes search the webs of the mangrove roots off in the distance. A guttural growl rumbles deep in Ralak’s chest, thinned lips curling over his canines, flashing them before your eyes. You watch in awe as his brows lower, knotting together to turn his eyes beady. Ears flat against his skull, the scent of another na’vi scrunches his nose.
That’s a new look.
“Ralak.” your voice is breathy and small – laced with fright.
His growl grows louder, coming from the pit of his stomach, deep and powerful. Lengthy fingers tightening around your arms, he spins you around and tucks you behind him in one swift move. His name slips off your tongue once more, quick, and unsure. He has one hand perched on the dip of your waist, holding you close behind this towering frame.
“Come out.” he growls gruffly, straightening his spine to present at his full height.
The two words double-knot your stomach, sending you wiggling into the sink of his back, face peeking through the crack of his arm and side. Your eyes flicker from side to side, looking for whatever – whoever he’s talking to. Meanwhile, your fingers grip the band on his loincloth, the only thing available on his body to hold.
Silence.
“Or I make you.” He rasps the warning through his four, pointed fangs.
Perhaps if Ralak wasn’t here the knots in your belly would have tightened by now, to the point where you would feel queasy. But the hiss fizzling from the back of his throat puts your nerves at ease – your body sensing its safety in his presence.
Out comes a brawny, wide na’vi, from behind the large, thick roots of the mangroves. His hands are splayed out, representing something of caution. No – surrender. He approaches Ralak slowly. Warily.
“Sorry, brother. I did not know she was yours.” Ka’ani says impishly.
Jaw snapping open, his hiss comes out full force. It’s loud and thick, almost grating. Much like a roar. Though you knew it wasn’t for you, it shook you up, tugging at the string in your grip as your body jolts forward into his.
“She belongs to no one.” His top lip twitches as he spits the vile words, stinging your heart in the process. Am I not his? What about last night? You think, tightening your grip on the band of his loincloth.
“It looks as if she belongs to you, Tak.” Ka’ani leans to the left, chin jutting out as he tries to catch a glimpse of you. “Look at her, holding on to your –”
“Lewng! [shame]. Tracking her scent.” Ralak hisses, turning his body to hide you from his predatory eyes. “Leave.”
“Ah. Come on now, brot-” He spreads his arms wide, walking around Ralak towards you.
Ralak takes a step forward on his last word, nearly coming chest to chest with the shorter na’vi. A moment of silence passes between the two, as Ralak stares him down with vengeance in his eyes. A hand flies up to his hip, gripping the knife sheathed in its casing. “Now.”
Ka’ani straightens his back, eyes flickering between Ralak and yours that peek from behind him. His hands retract, hovering either side of his head as he retreats. Ralak maintains his position, with a hand keeping you tucked away whilst the other rests on his hip. Once Ka’ani’s figure is no longer visible, Ralak sighs, and turns his heel to make his way back to his much-needed bath.
“Thanks...” you huff, walking close behind him.
“You women and your heats.” he mutters as he walks faster, ripping his loincloth out of your grip.
“Ex-cuse me?” your words bounce as you try to keep up with him. “You have no –”
“Do you understand what would have happened had I not been here? Do not be so reckless.” He tsks, as his feet come to a halt, balling his hands into fists.
“Reckless? All I did was walk here!” you shout, almost bumping into him again.
“Because you left to begin with.” he whispers through clenched teeth.
“What?” the question is breathy, hands perching on your knees to rest.
He turns around quickly, prompting you to stand at full height. Breathing heavily, he presses his warm body against yours, chin tucked into his chest to peer down at you. Instinctively, you perch on the tips of your toes, eyes lidded in anticipation of a kiss. Instead, he brings your wrists up to his nose, heated lips pressing against your supple skin.
“He scented you.” he mumbles quickly, lips pulling into a thin line before letting go and backing away.
“Why? How? I only bumped into him.” you walk towards him, watching him turn his heel again. “Hey –” you reach out for his arm to pull him back around.
First you leave him this morning, then come back scented by another na’vi. He shrugs you off, hands now fiddling with the knot above the base of his tail as he nears the entrance of the cave. The knot of his loincloth comes undone, heavy, sheathed hunting knife silently making impact with the sand.
“Because he wants everything that’s mine.”
So, I am his. You think, one corner of your mouth curling upwards into a smirk.
“Oh, Ralak.” You stand at the cave’s opening, waiting in silence for a response.
He continues to keep his back turned to you, dips of his clenched glutes on full display. Despite last night, seeing him naked still makes you shy, cheeks turning red and hot from the blood that rushes to them. You watch him hastily put his hair in a sloppy bun as he submerges himself in the water.
“I need to speak with you about this morning” you mumble, eyes locked onto the ripple of his back muscles.
“No need. I understand.” he answers lowly, shimmying over to the bottle of fermented fruit propped on a rock in the cave.
“Understand what? It’s about –”
“You made a mistake. It was your heat. It is fine.” he mutters quickly, taking a swig at the last word.
A mistake? My heat?
The realization hits you, hard. You’d been so out of it, so delirious from your heat you hadn’t given a second thought about his confession. His trauma that he confided in you, in this very cave. It’s like stones in your heart – no, boulders. Weighing it down so heavily that it feels like there’s a pulse in your stomach.
How could you be so cruel? So thoughtless? So insensitive? To not even wake him and utter the words to his face. To allow him to wake up to an empty bed after letting down his walls and being so vulnerable to you. To be so caught up in your own head you couldn’t even bat an eye at the man who helped you through your first heat.
“Oh. Oh, Lak. No. No, it’s nothing like that.” you sputter out a trembling voice, sliding into the water to rush over to him. You rest your hand on his upper back, taking in the warmth of his skin. He feels feverish – hot to the touch.
What is he drinking?
You rub his back gently, bioluminescent freckles dancing from your caresses. Yet, he’s rigid. Cold. Distant. He’s not the Ralak you know, swaying side to side as he brings the lip of the bottle to his mouth.
“Stop, my love.” you coo, sliding your hand up his raised arm as you walk around him. Pulling the bottle away from his lips, you cautiously place the pxir on a nearby ledge. “Ralak.” you whisper, staring up at him with worried eyes.
The sound of his name falling from your lips tilts his head back ever so slightly, like it pained him to even look at you. Curly, loose stands of hair frame his face, accentuating his angular features. He attempts to fix his mask of indifference to his face, but you can see through it. You see the anguish glossed over his lidded, inebriated eyes.
Ocean blue eyes.
tw: flashback
His mind is elsewhere, dissociating back to the day of the incident. The night of his iknimaya celebration, where his own karyu cornered him in his family marui, engulfing him with her pheromones. Manipulating him with her heat to take care of her. To touch her.
He can hear the waves crashing into the shore, the pitter-patter of the rain on the roof of the marui, the roll of the thunder – her whispers in his ear, ‘I’ve been waiting too long for this. You are officially a man now. Make your karyu feel better, right here...’.
The smell of her pheromones is suffocating, more potent than any fermented fruit he’s ever had. It frightened him, feeling like he had no self-control. No way to stop his movements, no matter how much he screamed at his body to move, run – anything.
It is what made him vow to never lose control of himself. His composure.
He can feel the heaviness of his body. The lethargy. The way his lungs refused to fill, no matter how hard he tried to breathe. When he woke, he was alone, sitting in the corner in a pool of his own sweat, curled in on himself. His karyu left, to never return. Leaving nothing but the lingering smell of her heated scent behind.
tw: end of flashback
“My karyu” you hum softly, placing his hand on your chest.
When you first called him that, he almost grimaced. But as time passed, you made the word bearable. You gave it a new meaning, a new feeling. Eventually filling him with eagerness to hear it fall from your flushed lips. In tones of excitement, frustration... pleasure.
You hold his thumb, and give it a squeeze, trying to bring him back from wherever he is. Your heart weighed even heavier, seeing him drift away and detach when he’s right in front of you. “I’m not going anywhere. I’m right here. Feel me. Feel my heartbeat. Focus on it and come back to me.”
The words echo in his skull, reverberating between the thick bone. He can hear you, feel you. With each thump of your heart, the heaviness of his body lifts, the scent of her fades, the pitter-patter of the storm subdues until nothing, but that thump can be heard. His eyes finally flicker down to yours, ears and brows twitching at the pulse of your heart.
Only a bottle could do that for him. Bring him back. Yet, you did it with the mere sound of your heart.
“I’m sorry, Lak. I’m so sorry. I’m sorry I was so thoughtless. I’m sorry... that happened to you.” the words are shaky, flowing over your quivering bottom lip. “I would never. Ever. Ever. Ever –” you blubber, shaking your head, “Ever, do that to you. I-I had to leave because of my father. He’s punishing me. Forbidding me from seeing you. Having Tsireya teach me instead. I should have woken you.”
Another arm snakes around his waist, bringing him in closer to you. You slump your head into his chest, letting the tears flow and stain his skin. “I don’t regret a thing. I meant everything I said. I-I see you, Ralak” you sputter, breath hitching from the crying.
“Tanhì” he croaks, kissing the crown of your head as he wraps his arms around you to hold you closer.
“I love you” The three words are said in unison as you cling onto one another.
Alcohol still coursing through his veins, Ralak’s heavy body slumps into you, slowly shifting you both against the cave wall. He presses your back against the rocky surface, unwrapping his arms from your waist to support his body weight with a hand on the wall. He leans in, brushing his cheek against yours.
“I will miss you.” he whispers huskily next to the shell of your ear.
“I’ll miss you, too.” you whisper back, head pulling back to meet his gaze.
Your eyes lock for a moment, an undeniable tension now budding in the air and making your breaths quicken. He inches even closer, lips brushing against yours as you exchange the same hot breath until you’re light in the head.
He kisses you roughly – sloppily.
Tongue slipping into your mouth, you get a taste of what he’s been drinking all day. It’s a little sweet, with undertones of various fruits native to the reef people. But once the sweetness wears off, the bitter aftertaste makes your brows gather. He pulls away, revealing heavy-lidded eyes with thin blue rings for irises, flickering side to side as they stare into yours.
Chests heaving in synchrony, you both struggle to catch your breath. Hands cupping each other’s face, your lips crash into one another again, body language hungry and desperate for each other’s touch. Ralak shoves his knee between your legs, providing you with the friction your body has been begging for. Your body moves on its own, humping at his thigh as best you can in the water.
“I-I want... you.” The desperate words part your bruised, flushed lips, hand sliding up his back to caress his kuru [queue].
He shakes his head, brows gathering tightly. “Not now. Not here. We do it the right way.”
“Then...” you pant, voice laced with desperation as your hands make their way to his hips, dainty fingers wrapping around his hardened girth, “...give me something else.”
Breath turning raggedy, he struggles to maintain his composure. The influence of the alcohol surging through his body proves it to be an even more difficult task. He takes a deep breath, withdrawing his knee from your legs to spin you around in one quick motion. Ralak tries his best to be gentle with you, shoving you into the wall to press his aching cock against you.
A soft moan parts your lips; thin, fuzzy tail wrapping around his thigh in attempts to bring you closer. Eywa, did that push him closer to the edge. Your tail had been one of his favourite things about you from the day you first locked eyes, so slender and delicate. Nothing like his. It not only fascinated him. It aroused him.
It makes him push into you even harder, tip of his cock throbbing against your lower back. He craves to be even closer to you – to be inside you. To rut into you until your voice becomes so hoarse from screaming his name. Over and over. Again, and again. Fingers hurriedly fiddling with the knot of your loincloth, he pants a few greedy, rough kisses along your upper back.
“Oh! Ralak, I-I think –” you moan lowly, his touches throwing you into a daze.
“What?” he huffs, fingers coming to a halt in fear that he’s being too rough with you.
“I think I’m still in heat.” you lie, or maybe it wasn’t a lie. You feel so woozy in the head that you’re not even sure what’s going on anymore. All that sits at the forefront of your mind is him claiming you as his.
“Is that so?” he lets out a breath of relief, a chuckle if you will.
“Yes. Can you help me?” you pant, trembling voice feigned with innocence.
“Ah. Let me check, little one.” He buries his face into the nape of your neck, pulling back with a loud sigh through his nose. A growl rumbles in his chest and up his throat. “I can still smell him.” The scent of another so deep into your skin makes him want to mark you. To sink his lengthy canines into your neck for the smell to seep out, only to be replaced by his.
“Then fix it.” you breathe, head dipping forward to open yourself up to him.
“Oh?” he smiles open mouthed, brushing his pointed fangs against your silken skin, making your back arch on instinct. Submitting to him and his touch. Open mouth lingering over your neck, his jaw closes to graze his teeth against you. He sucks lightly on your skin, puckered lips pulling off with a pop.
Of course, he’d make you wait for that too. He was only ‘helping’ you, right now.
He kicks your feet apart, spreading your legs for him to settle in closer behind you. A string of your slick connects your thighs together, breaking apart when he rubs his cock against your bare cunt. He begins rubbing his face into the back of your neck, scenting you as his.
“Mine. Yes?” he growls, thrusting himself against your slippery slit.
“Yes.” You spread your legs further apart, standing on the tips of your toes to provide him with better access. “Please.” You let out a pathetic mewl.
He grunts in frustration. He wants nothing more than to thrust himself inside you, stretching your pussy out with his huge cock. And with those little, sweet pleas, it’s almost too hard to resist. But he does. He pulls away, gaze snapping down to the rope of wetness connecting your most intimate parts together.
Cocking a brow, his hand comes between your sticky pelvises, fingers coiling around the string of slick before they glide over your pussy and spread your folds. Your wetness drips down his digits, pooling in the palm of his hand. “So wet. Maybe you are in heat.” he mumbles, pressing his lips against your back, peppering kisses down the curve of your shoulder.
Ralak fondles with your puffy clit, rubbing tight circles into it with his slickened fingertips. Your hips squirm around from the white-hot pleasure tightening your core. It’s just not enough. Perhaps it’s just residual heat, but you feel so, so empty. A yearning deep in your womb, to be filled and stretched. Your hips buck forward, slipping his fingertips to prod at your entrance, before pushing back on him to try and sink them inside you.
Needy body language riling up the giant behind you, his harsh kisses move their way up to your ear. “Say it, tanhì.” he groans lowly, positioning his finger at your tight hole.
“I n-need you inside of me!” you cry desperately, shoving yourself back into him.
“You listen so well, paysyul.” he exhales a hot breath into the shell of your ear, sinking his thick finger inside you, twisting his wrist so that he can curl it right into your sweet spot.
“Oh, shit.” you moan breathily, cheek pressed firmly against the rocky wall.
“That is why you learn so quickly.” He fingers you roughly, expertly working out a squelch with each curl of his digit.
The feeling is like heat, shooting down your spine and pooling in your pelvis. It makes your hips spasm, chasing the fiery sensation in hopes to put it out. His finger brings relieve, satiating the itch as your sweet spot swells from pure bliss. He knows exactly where to touch, and how to touch.
Yet, it still isn’t enough.
“More! ‘ts not enough!” you cry, writhing underneath him.
He finds your little cries amusing, letting a chuckle evade his lips. How could something so small act so mighty? He slides another digit in, feeling your tight pussy walls stretch to accommodate him. He hears the little whimper bubbling up your throat, letting him know you need a moment to adjust.
“Taking my fingers so well, hm?” he praises you with a shaky voice, planting a gentle kiss behind your ear.
“Mmmn! Please!” Another plea falls from your lips, a plea for him to move – to make you cum. He sets a relentless pace, stimulating the sensitive spot in your gummy, hot walls, working lengthy moans and mewls from you.
With the way he’s fingerfucking you, it feels as if your nerves are on fire. The coil tightly wound in your core ready to snap any second now. Your brows pinch together in fervour, mouth falling open to allow heavy, hot breaths to escape.
“Close! So close! Gonna! Gonna –” Your words catch in your throat, leaving you breathless and tense around his fingers.
“Make yourself cum.” he orders gruffly, stopping all movement once he feels you tighten around his digits.
You gasp, hips moving on their own to chase the orgasm he just took away from you. “No, no. You know I can’t. Please.” you sputter, pushing against the wall to ride his fingers.
“You can. And you will.” he growls, bending his fingers as encouragement.
You quickly accept your fate, holding on tightly to whatever pleasurable feeling remains and running with it. You push back on him, squirming around as you try to make yourself cum. Closing your eyes, you tune into your body, feeling what feels good and where. But the position that you’re in makes it even harder to do it yourself.
“Just fuck me!” you cry desperately, frustration so pent up you couldn’t help the outburst.
“Language.” he hisses, shoving his fingers so deep inside you that your slick coats his knuckles.
“Fuck! Please.” you beg, reaching behind you to grab his wrist.
“No.” he smirks, looking down at how your cunt sucks in his digits, listening to your pleading and begging.
He just wants to hear a little more. To hear how badly you want him. He loves the way you squirm around, sputtering nonsense from being so fucked out by just his fingers. He loves the little noises your pussy makes for him and can’t wait to hear how they’ll sound once his cock is stuffed inside you.
“Ralak. Please. Please make me cum!” you cry, using his wrist as leverage to fuck back into him.
He slides his hand down your stomach, fingers playing with your swollen, neglected clit. He’s pumping his digits in and out of your dripping cunt, feeling your slick dribble down his hand. It doesn’t take long for you to near your climax, pussy walls clamping down around his fingers.
“Let go. Cum for me.” he groans, swollen tip of his cock oozing beads of precum onto your lower back.
“Oh, fuckfuckfuck!” you let out a hoarse cry, entire body shuddering underneath him “Cumming! Cumming!”
“That’s my girl.” he hums proudly, scissoring his fingers open to stretch you out.
You let out a high-pitched whimper, hint of pain making your eyes water. Then a wave of ecstasy ripples through you, leaving your legs trembling beneath you. He snakes his arm around your waist, holding you up while you ride out of your high, sprinkling your shoulder with kisses.
Once you come down from your high, you lean back into him, resting your head against his chest. Huffing and puffing, you try to catch your breath as you turn around to cup his swollen balls. “My turn to make you feel good.”
To your surprise, he rests a hand on your arm, pulling it away from him. He looks down at you through blown pupils, arousal plastered all over his face. Beads of sweat trickle down his temples, wet strands of curled hair stuck to his cheeks, he sighs the words. “Not today, tanhi. I must get you back, now.”
#ralak#ralak smut#avatar smut#awow smut#metkayina#metkayina smut#metkayina oc#oc smut#avatar oc smut#awow oc smut#sully reader#sully reader x oc#oc x sully reader#oc x sully reader smut#na'vi smut#na'vi x reader#na'vi x sully reader#na'vi avatar#Ralak te Sepawn ieyk’itan#smut#metkayina x omaticaya#metkayina x omaticaya smut#metkayina x fem reader
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Ralak te Sepwan ieyk’itan: Chapter One
An Illustrated Collaboration with @zestys-stuff
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 creator @zestys-stuff. I love her and all her art so much that when I saw Ralak I was so compelled to write a fic for him. I hope you guys enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it. Teytey, you knocked it out the park with this one (as you always do, my love).
Characters: Metkayina!Ralak (24) x Sully!Omaticaya!Reader (19)
Warnings: shit ton of fluff, profanity, age gap, a lot of sexual tension, size difference, let me know if i forgot anything?
Word Count: 4.4k
Requested: Yes || No
Author’s Note: I hope I did this gorgeous man justice and wrote his character well. It was an interesting challenge to introduce his character and build a plot with it. Chapter two and three will be out shortly! I’m beyond overjoyed that you guys are excited for this 😊 I hope I don’t disappoint lool
Synopsis: Your family seeks uturu with the Metkayina in the village of Awa’atlu. You have a difficult time adjusting, and are assigned your own special teacher, Ralak.
Next ->
The Sully family adopted you from birth, taking you in as their own. They were more than patient with your delayed milestones, moving at the slow pace you set since childhood. You completed your iknimaya a cycle later than your siblings, despite your eagerness to prove your self-worth as one of the Sully’s. Being a late bloomer and smaller than the average na’vi never put a damper on your optimistic attitude, though. It only added fuel to the fire.
The news to seek uturu with the Metkayina came as a shock not only to you but the rest of your siblings, and soon became the leading topic of discussions at family dinner. Jake explained that this is what was necessary, and that you would need to ‘pull your weight’ and ‘make a real effort’. You knew he didn’t mean it as harsh as it sounded, but the words stung nonetheless, plucking out a couple heart strings when they pierced through your chest.
You’ll never forget the day of your arrival here.
War horns blew loudly, signalling your arrival to the village of Awa’atlu. All the members of the clan swarmed the shore to see what the fuss was all about. Even the little ones that could only toddle wriggled their way out of their parents’ arms to get a glimpse. It was overwhelming – to say the least – to have all these eyes on you, scanning every foreign feature of your body, walking around you to inspect you further. You’d never felt more objectified in your life.
When Tonowari and Ronal made their grand entrance on their skimwings, your heart thud furiously in your chest. Sure, the large, winged fish took you by surprise, but the man to Tonowari’s right shook you to your core. His head tilted in wariness, hunting knife secured cautiously in his right hand and the leather wrapped reign gripped tightly in his left.
Wet, long hair plastered to his chest; he eyed you down momentarily before averting his gaze to the rest of your family that calmed their ikrans. His eyes widened ever so slightly at the winged creatures, large with armoured skin, much like the beast he’s bonded with.
You couldn’t help but stare aghast at his sinewy, chiselled features – sculpted by Eywa herself. It didn’t take long for you to understand why he was Tonowari’s right-hand man. His expression of indifference remained fixed on his face. Embodying that of an akula, his presence brought an intimidation like no other.
But what you couldn’t understand were the butterflies that plagued your stomach.
Your gaze lingered for a moment too long, the akula himself now returning the leer. It sent shivers down your spine, turning your butterflies into knots. You looked away, gaze falling onto your toes that burrowed their way into the sand. You felt his eyes bore into you, taking in each dark blue stripe on your tiny body, your slender extremities and thin tail.
You peeked at him through the corner of your eye, to see his gaze locked on your tail as it swished side to side. You saw his ears perk up, and the minor curl of his lips, a sight only a person staring as intently as you would see. You watched as his expression morphed into one of confusion, just before he dropped his head all together.
You would later come to find out that he couldn’t quite understand his own butterflies in his stomach.
The giant stayed seated on his winged beast, as Tonowari and Ronal dismounted theirs and crossed the shore in only a few strides. Initially, they were wary of your arrival, thinking your family would bring war to their village. After your father reassured them, they were gracious enough to grant uturu for your family, and even dispatched their own children to teach you the ways of the people.
Naturally, you had a hard time adjusting to the new biome, water was never really your thing to begin with. You were slow in the water, slender body only holding you back more. The olo’eyktan’s son, Ao’nung, quickly grew agitated with you, handing you off to his sister, Tsireya, who was already overwhelmed with teaching your siblings. You felt like a burden, holding everyone back during lessons. There was absolutely nothing that you were getting the hang of, not even the ‘finger talk’ as you brother calls it.
For the first in your life, you felt completely defeated.
The sweet, determined girl disappeared, leaving nothing but her shell behind. You started missing lessons, making up reasons to stay back in your family marui pod. You often found yourself alone sitting on the shore in the height of the eclipse, dipping your feet into the warm water. Jake would always find his babygirl, demanding to know what was wrong. But you could never reveal the truth, not after what he said to you before your departure. Especially not now, not after failing so terribly for two entire months.
At this point, your siblings had passed their iknimaya, and you were the only one left.
----
Tsireya presses two fingertips right above your navel, resting her other hand on your chest, fixing your posture. “Breathe from down here. You must slow down your heartbeat, y/n.”
You’ve heard this a million times by now. You know this, but it didn’t matter. No matter how hard you tried, you just couldn’t get it. Frustrated, you exhale harshly, gritting your teeth so you won’t speak the words flooding your mind.
“Look. I know you’re frustrated, but you are getting so much better. If we just keep –”
“No! I’m fucking tired of this. I’ll never get it. Alright?!” you shout, shuffling to your feet to.
You scan the circle of surprised na’vi, all of which are staring up at you in disbelief. You could see Tsireya’s face screw with hurt, which only makes your heart ache more. An apology brews in your chest, when all five pairs of eyes flicker to something behind you. Turning on your heels, you see what everyone is looking at.
Jake, Tonowari, and his right-hand man all standing in front of you, presumably listening to your every word. You stand there for a bit, eyes bouncing between Tonowari and Jake before landing on the giant. He stands tall, staring off into the distance with that same deadpan look on his face. His hair is tucked behind his ears, revealing the stud in his lobe, the freckles on his jaw – the deeper blue markings on his neck.
This is the first time you’re getting a good look at him, seeing the first time you two met things were... eventful.
His freckles are conspicuous, even in broad daylight, beautifully patterned and abundant throughout his body. Perhaps it’s his lighter-cyan coloured skin and swirls for stripes, but his freckles twinkled just right from the reflection of the water. They even seemed to trace his stripe pattern on his forehead and brow bones. A single tahni under each eye... his ocean, impassive eyes.
A sleeve of tattoos covers his right arm, a sleeve on his right knee to his ankle, and a tattoo of stripes below his navel that went underneath his – oh. Your brows lift slightly, tensed facial muscles relaxing.
That’s an interesting place for a tattoo.
This tattoo continued between his prominent v-lines, under the band of his loincloth. You begin counting the stripes.
One, two, three, four, five... six.
It takes the sound of Jake clearing his throat for you to reluctantly peel your eyes away from this poor man’s crotch.
“Right, babygirl. Ralak here is going to be your teacher from now on.” Jake motions his hand over to the Metkayina, who’s now visibly, and unsuccessfully, trying to appear friendlier.
You couldn’t help but scoff, frustration now bubbling over in your chest once more. “So what? I’m so shit at this that I need a ‘special’ teacher?” you glance over at Ralak and roll your eyes.
“Language!” Jake whispers harshly, giving you that look. The look he gives you when you’re embarrassing him.
“No. I’m tired of this. I want to go home.” you shrug, storming past him just for him to wrap his hand around your upper arm and drag you back.
“That’s enough.” Jake growls, bending over to meet you at eye level. “Tonowari has been kind enough to arrange for Ralak to help you. He was once a fisherman.”
“The best. At about your age.” Tonowari stands proudly as he utters the words, “And now he’s one of the best warriors. I hand selected him myself.”
Your eyes flicker over to Ralak, whose ears lay flat against his skull, brows slightly pinched, jaw clenched. It’s hard to tell what he was feeling, his mask of indifference fixed tightly on his face. Was he grimacing? Or maybe he was trying not to.
Regardless, it looked as if the words upset him. Maybe there was something more beneath this cold exterior. Something that maybe you can pry out of him. Something that intrigued you. The corners of your lips curl upwards, an expression that any outsider would perceive as happiness, but Jake knew you had something else in mind.
Something more mischievous.
“I apologize, sir. I am... just frustrated.” your eyes shift from one giant to the next as you bow before the olo’eyktan. “It would be an honour to have Ralak be my...” you glance over at him, “...karyu [teacher].”
Jake remains silent, pursing his lips as he watches the scene unfold.
“Ah. I understand.” Tonowari smirks, shrugging his shoulder. “It is decided, Ralak will teach you.” he looks at Ralak, giving the order, “Today.”
Jake raises his brows at you, as if he were telling you to behave and not cause any trouble. You tilt your head and subtly stick out just the tip of your tongue. Tonowari walks away, a large hand brushing against Jake’s back to signal him to follow. Jake turns around and joins the larger na’vi, two olo’eyktans now making their way back to the tall mangroves.
“Hey, karyu.” you sing, eyes fluttering as you stare up at the towering man.
He looks down at you for a moment, eyes flickering between your eyes and lips. His ears twitch as he swiftly turns around, walking away from you. “Come.”
So that’s what his voice sounds like.
It’s gruff, yet smoky. Deep and husky, thick with... nothing but his Metkayina accent. It was flat and monotone, revealing nothing of his true character. You follow closely behind him, already excited about how you plan to get him to reveal more about himself. He seems to be a man of few words, reserved and... composed. You couldn’t deny that there is a part of you that wants to poke at him, to see how far you can take things with him.
Before you know it, you’re standing in a secluded clearing on the shore, nestled far away where the fishermen tend to hunt. You look around, scanning your surroundings with curious eyes. You see a secluded marui pod, seemingly larger than all the others you’ve seen thus far. It's tightly woven with orange and red sturdy material, secured tightly to the thick mangrove roots around it.
“That yours?” you stick him with your first poke of the day, eager eyes trying to look inside the marui.
His gaze remains fixed on the fishnet that he’s gathering in his hands. “Yes.”
“Pretty big for...” you mumble, shifting your gaze towards him to be met with the sight of him unbuckling his cumberbund. “...just one person.” your voice dwindles in volume, fading out into a breathy whisper.
If your eyes could protrude from your head anymore, they would. You always had a hard time masking how you feel as your facial expressions were quick to give it away. His cumberbund falls into the wet sand, embellished razor sharp akula teeth piercing its surface. Your eyes trail up his body, settling on his bare chest.
“Today, fishing net. Tomorrow, ilu.” he mutters, putting his hair into a loose bun as he ventures further into the water.
“O-kay.” the word comes out broken and awkward.
Venturing out into the water, he settles in the spot he used to go frequently as a fisherman. Waist deep into the water, he looks behind him, chin meeting his chest to land his gaze on you, chest-deep in the water. He realizes that he's gone too far out for you, and walks towards you.
Your beaded top plasters to your chest, revealing your peaked nipples as your breasts bounce with the tide. His eyes quickly avert to the shore, eyelids fluttering a little faster than they should.
“Come.” he walks past you, prompting you to follow him once more. You bounce your way back to the shore until the water is crashing into your stomach. “Watch.” he says, fixing his stance to show you a demonstration.
You watch intently, focus being on the wrong thing, honestly. Your eyes had a hard time looking away from his chiselled body – from each dip and ridge of his muscles on full display. How could you focus? Especially now that he’s barely thigh deep into the water, loincloth clung to his bulge. You swallowed thickly at the sight, was that huge thing really his –
“Erm. Got it?” the sound of him clearing his throat snaps you out of your deep thought.
“Mhm!” you nod quickly, doe eyed and genial smiled.
He nods once, handing you the netting. You take it slowly, buying yourself sometime to figure out how to throw this thing. Standing with your left foot in front of your right, you bend your elbows out, holding the yoke of the net close to your chest.
He grunts in disapproval, settling behind you to fix your stance. He gently kicks your feet apart, putting your dominant foot in front. Large hands grip your tiny waist, shifting your stance slightly to the left. They slip up your sides, and run along the length of your upper arms, stopping at your elbows to tuck them in. He’s so focused on correcting your poor posture that he doesn’t even realize how he’s pressing himself against you.
“Like this.” he huffs, hand enveloping yours to shift it further from the yoke of the cast net. “Hold here.” his other hand grabs the lead line and plunks it into yours.
Heart pounding at a dangerous speed, you take a few deep breaths. Perhaps it was the nerves of casting your first net, or maybe it was just how this gentle giant is pressed against you. Either way, you can’t ignore the butterflies that flutter in your stomach again.
“Now throw.” he says barely over a whisper, backing away from you.
You twist your upper body, core tensing when you throw the net as hard as you can, only for it to clump together rather than spread out. Your shoulders drop and lips press tight, a wave of disappointment washing over you.
“Again.” he orders, pulling the net towards him.
--
Ralak had you throw the net half a dozen more times before giving you your first break. You prodded and poked at him, trying your best pry personal information out of him – to no avail. He remained unaffected by your persistent jabs, revealing nothing other than how he pined for the days of being a fisherman.
“Karyu. I-I’ll never get it.” you huff in frustration, gathering the fishnet from the surface of the water for a tenth time.
“Again.” he says patiently, unbothered by your frustration.
“Karyu. Please. It is not working. Can’t we try something else?” you beg, arms and back sore from throwing the fishnet so many times.
He looks at you for a moment, taking in the slouch of your back – the strain on your face. He felt bad for you, but he could also see that you were so close to learning the skill.
“No. Again.” he orders monotonously, taking note of your gaze drifting off to the mangroves nearby. “Focus. Eyes on me.”
“How am I supposed to focus when you look so, so –” you cut yourself short with a sigh.
“So, what?” he tilts his head and raises a brow.
You shake your head and roll your eyes, landing them right on that damn tattoo again.
Why was it so low? Didn’t that hurt? Why there of all places?
“Look. I see you –”
The words make your eyes snap up to his, heart thumping wildly in your chest.
“...staring.”
You didn’t realise you were lingering until he pointed it out. How could you not? Surely, he chose that spot for a reason. Perhaps his mate wanted it there, so she could trace the lines with her tongue, all the way down to his –
Am I... jealous right now? I don’t even know this man.
“Who did that tattoo?” you question harshly, green flame of envy igniting in your chest.
“This one?” he chuckles softly, tugging at the hem of his loincloth.
You drop your head, gaze locked on your hands fiddling with the net, hoping to hide the blood that’s rushing to your cheeks. “Yeah. That one.”
“Again. And I tell you.” he pulls the hem back up before crossing his arms over his chest.
Your gaze snaps back up to him, eyes wide with excitement. This is the first time he’d be revealing anything personal about himself. A smile splits your lips as you fix the net in your hands once more, burrowing your feet into the sand. Your eyes narrow on the target – a school of fish off in the near distance.
Twisting your torso, you cast the fishnet, watching it splay out perfectly and trap majority of the fish. You stare in awe, surprised that it even splayed out much less caught some fish. Once it registers, you jump up in glee, quickly turning to your teacher to see his pleased expression and slight nod.
“I did.” he utters, a smirk barely pulling at his lips.
Adrenaline still coursing through your veins, you’re perplexed by his two words. “Huh?” you huff, brows pinching together in confusion.
“I did the tattoo.” he says, holding eye contact with you.
“Oh.” your lips pucker at the words, furrowed brows now raising in understanding. Being so surprised by yourself – finally getting something right – you forgot about your little deal.
He breaks eye contact to look over at your perfectly casted fishnet. “If you ride an ilu, maybe I show you the rest of it.” he says through his thick accent, making his way towards the fishnet. “Since you are so... interested.”
“I-I’m not – it, it is just in a – an interesting spot.” you stutter, eyes locked onto your twiddling thumbs.
“Ah.” he gathers the fishnet in his large hands, bundling it together to call it a day. “If you say so... vultsyìp [stick; tree branch]”
“What did you just call me?” your leer snaps up, eyelids squinting at his tensed back muscles that flex and relax as he gathers the net.
A smile pulls at his lips, although you can barely see it from the angle in which he’s facing. It’s contagious, causing your own lips to curl, and soon enough you’re giggling into your hand.
----
Ralak became the light in the darkness, pulling you out of your shell and filling you with the purpose that you once lost. Things came quick to you, thanks to him. He was a great teacher, always patient with you, never showing his agitation – or any other emotion for that matter.
You learned how to hold your breath properly in only a week, due to his persistence and confidence in you. He’d always be quick to praise you after you accomplished something, whether that be with a quick clap, a gentle tap on the back, or – in bigger accomplishments – a hug.
The bond between the two of you strengthened. Overnight. You put a crack in his walls, and bits of his true self began to shine through them. And that was your biggest accomplishment yet. To see a person with the strength of five men turn into a little water puppy in front of you, and you only.
There would be moments where his façade of indifference would drop completely. The moments where he would chuckle a little too loudly, a little too long. Where that shy smile grew wide enough to flash his lengthy canines, and a primal part of you that you tried to supress, desired to know what they felt like sunk into your neck. Clamping down on you while you writhe underneath him, being tamed by his touch.
The moments where you’d tease one another about your differences. His stature in comparison to yours. Pressing your hands together, only for yours to be lost in his palm. And when you pulled away, your fingers intertwined ever so slightly, prickling the skin all over your body. He loved to tease you. Honestly a little too much, poking at your chest with a figurative finger about how you favoured that of a vultsyìp. It’s what got you riled up the most and soon it became your nickname.
Until the day you successfully rode your first ilu.
It was an exhilarating experience, nothing like what you had experienced prior. You glided through the water effortlessly, flowing with the movements of the blubbery creature. When you broke the waters’ surface, Ralak stood proudly in the shallow end, arms crossed over his chest with a smile on his face. It was a rare occurrence – that smile.
And when you laid your eyes on such a sight, the butterflies flew back into your stomach, fluttering and flapping harder than they ever have. They soon became plenty in number, filling your stomach to the brim until you can no longer suppress the way you feel. The flutter in your stomach radiated throughout your body, sending your legs fluttering too. You swam quickly to him, surprising yourself with your speed.
--
“You did it. Like I said.” he smiles smugly.
“Hope you didn’t forget about our deal.” you grin, wringing out the water from your hair.
“You would not let me.” he scoffs, shaking his head as he uncrosses his arms. “Ready?” he asks, cocking a brow while his fingers glide down his stomach, finding purchase under the under the band of his loincloth.
“From the moment I saw it, karyu.” you say, voice feigned with confidence.
He could see through your disguise, though. It only makes him chuckle, to see such a little thing act so big – so dauntless. He tugs his loincloth down, taut strings now sinking into his upper thighs, revealing not only the entirety of his tattoo but also the base of his length.
“H-how did you manage to do that all on your own? Didn’t it hurt?” you ask sheepishly, voice laced with concern.
“Bottle of fermented fruit and a rag to bite. No pain.” he answers, Metkayina accent thick.
You examine it a little closer, leaning in to have a better look. It’s raised, very slightly – invisible to anyone not staring as intently as you are. Most definitely because it’s hand poked, by himself of all people. An innocent thought floods your mind, so loud that you couldn’t stop the movement of your own hand.
How does it feel?
“Can I –” you glance up at him briefly, hand hovering over the tattoo, “Can I touch it?”
His brows and ears shudder for just a few seconds. He quickly regains his composure, swallowing silently before giving you a single nod. Fingertips experimentally graze over the tattoo, taking in its bumpy texture. Your digits trace each line of his tattoo, down to his pelvis. A sudden jerk of his hips causes you to yank your hand back.
“S-sorry, Ralak.” you mumble, feeling a little ashamed that you may have made him uncomfortable.
But in all honesty, your innocent, little touches were arousing him and he didn’t want you to know.
“Nothing to be sorry about.” he states, fixing his loincloth.
You straighten your spine, a foot stepping back to create space that you think he wants, only for him to pull you in for a hug.
“You did well today, vultsyìp.” he mumbles, hands resting on your head and back. “Tsurak [skimwing] next and you will be Metkayina.”
“Hmm. I’ll think about it.” you giggle, warm embrace and snarky commentary ebbing away whatever feelings of doubt tensing your chest.
It’s the way his huge arms engulf you that make you feel so protected and accepted. It’s something you always looked forward to after a big achievement. You lean into him, laying your head on his chest. The smell of sea salt mixed with leather hide wafts up your nose. You take a deep breath, holding it in your lungs until you feel light in the head. Releasing your breath with a loud huff, you smile widely.
It’s so enticing, so addictive.
“You always do that.” he chuckles breathily, swiping back a few strands of hair stuck to your temple.
“’ts not my fault you sea people smell so good.” you mumble into his chest, taking in another deep breath.
“Ah.” he exhales, hand cupping the back of your head. “My hì’i vultsyìp [little stick]” he almost grimaces at his words, it just wasn’t fitting anymore. Not for situations like these. Not when his chest feels so tight.
You lift your head and stare up at him with eyes of innocence. He looks down at you, ocean blue eyes searching yours. You’d never even noticed the little yellow ring around his pupils until now, how they shimmer when the light catches them just right. There’s an unspoken tension, thick in the air – so thick it makes you swallow the spit pooling in your cheeks. Your smile fades, lips parting as your breaths turn hot.
Eyes growing heavy, they almost close in anticipation that he might – just might – kiss you.
“Tanhì.” he mutters, eyes minutely shifting between each freckle on your forehead. He’s counts them, admiring how they embellish your supple, dark blue skin.
Your smile returns like it never left, except it’s wider – brighter. The last ray of sun shines through the sliver of a gap between your silhouettes, averting your attention to the oncoming eclipse.
“Thank you, karyu.” you whisper, reluctantly pulling away from his arms to make the trek back home.
“Tomorrow...” he watches your small figure shrink as you walk away. “...my tanhì.”
--
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Ralak te Sepwan ieyk’itan: Special Episode I
Ralak’s First Rut
An Illustrated Collaboration with @zestys-stuff
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 creator @zestys-stuff.
Characters: Metkayina!Ralak (24)/(18) x Sully!Omaticaya!Reader (19)
Warnings: nsfw, smut, fluff, profanity, age gap, rut cycle, knot play, praise kink, breeding kink, p in v, mating/bonding, knotting, multiple cumshots, creampie, let me know if I forgot anything?
Word Count: ??
Requested: Yes || No
Author’s Note: Cheers to the first special episode :) This is literally a mindfuck so bare with me! 🤍🤍
Synopsis: after mating with ralak, you settle into your new home. During some quality time together, you pop a rather… interesting question.
<;- Previous
Next ->
It’s barely been a week since you’ve properly moved into Ralak’s marui pod. It’s big and spacious, perfect for two – or more – na’vi. Comfortable and cosy, built by your mate’s two hands, with his future mate and family in mind. It’s beautiful, truly. But it needed a bit more... love. Something Ralak likes to say that you would provide with ease.
Taught from a young age, a man must provide and protect his mate and their family. Wise elders engrained the truth within his being since it came into consciousness – the truth that a woman wields the power of creation. The ability to create something out of nothing and make anything tenfold better.
A house into a home. Fresh game into dinner. Seed into life.
It’s from this point of his life, that he craved a mate to provide for, to create the dreamlife he yearned to live. To give everything he had to that na’vi and watch it flourish.
And he’s finally found you.
—
Five nimble fingers work away at the woven trinkets you plan to garnish the bent wooden frame of your marui with. Slender digits quicken as they tuck the coruscant shells into the twine, pulling it taut as you double knot it. It’s the one thing you taught him, the Omaticaya are known for their skilled weaving and sewing techniques - passed down by the ancestors themselves.
He watches intently, brows twitching as he tries to follow your movements with his own thickset fingers. He’s always had a hard time with this sort of task, often resorting to the lengthy wooden needle and thinly twisted twine to fasten whatever you needed him to. He heaves a heavy sigh, letting his frustration get the best of him as he grabs the wooden needle.
Breaking his façade of indifference.
It’s silly really. You’re mated before Eywa herself, sitting together as you weave and see in your shared marui, and yet he still feels the need to express as little emotion as na’vi-ly possible. You look up to see his nose scrunch and lips pull together, the same face he made when you fell off your ilu for the tenth time. The memory has you giggling before you become aware of the sounds coming from your mouth.
It earns you a pair of beady eyes, drilling into your innermost being. It’s good to know that the teasing hasn’t stopped, even after marriage. Your giggle increases in bass, quickly turning into a chuckle. It’s infectious, spreading to his own lips to make them curl in the slightest way possible, just enough to make him look down at the way his fingers fiddle to thread the eye of the needle.
Blood rushes to his face, staining it a tinge of pink. His flushed cheeks and flustered appearance have the gears in your head grinding twice as hard, fabricating images of what he’d look like in his most primal state. All hot and heavy, chest heaving harshly from how hard he’s breathing. Is it this? Is this what he looks like when he’s in –
“Ma’ Lak.” The words slide off your tongue like nectar, sweet and thick with arousal. It urges him to look away from his task, gaze slowly trailing up your petite, dark blue body.
“…What was your first rut like?” You ask innocently.
Ralak cocks a brow, quickly dropping his head once more to hide his growing smirk. He happily puts down the needle, unfazed by your out-the-blue question and shuffles to his feet whilst offering his hand. Dainty fingers wrap around his wrist, holding on tightly as he pulls you to your feet and walks you over to the bed. He reaches behind him, gripping the base of his kuru to stroke its length and bring it over his shoulder.
“Why don’t I show you?” Ralak asks, exposing his dancing tendrils before your eyes.
Of course, the man of few words would prefer to show you rather than tell you. Not that you were complaining or anything. He’s choosing to let you in, to show you one of the most intimate moments of his life. A moment where he was most vulnerable.
You nod, quickly pulling your queue forth, revealing your dancing tendrils too. Hues of glowing lilac illuminate the space between you. Amber and azure orbs twinkle as they watch the tendrils find one another, intertwining as they come together with a quick tug. Your head flies back, pupils blowing until nothing but thin amber rings remain, breath hitching whilst your bodies synchronize entirely.
Your vision blurs until all you can see is white, and the high-pitched ringing noise in your ears drowns out the sounds of the waves crashing into the shore. Soon, you’re no longer in your marui, as the white fades out into various shades of grey. The ringing dissipates into a low, husky voice, reverberating in the background.
My tanhì. Are you there?
You can see beige and grey blobs, splitting into two and drifting apart. You can hear faint indistinguishable echoes, something like a cry, or a whine. Cool water splashes at your feet, making you rub your eyes to unblur your vision. You open your eyes, witnessing the blobs merge together and unblur into large-rocks, and pointed stalagmites.
Our cave?
You hear the faint, breathy chuckle of your mate. Yes. Our cave. I was... frightened. Came here to cool down with a bath. See?
An invisible hand gently tugs at your chin, pulling your head to the left. You see young Ralak, short haired and bare skinned, leaning against the cave wall. His ears are tucked back, lying flat against his skull as a few strands of hair dangle in front of his face, beet-red with beads of sweat dripping down his temples. The droplets crash onto his bare chest which is heaving wildly from his laboured breathing.
His less sinewy body shudders, face contorting from pain and discomfort as his shaky hands glide down his stomach to find purchase on the band of his loincloth. Hooking his thumbs underneath the twine, he shimmies it down his thighs, revealing his naked pelvis. It’s strange seeing his unscarred, uncalloused skin, bare without charcoal inking.
Huffing and puffing, he stomps his feet to unplaster the sopping cloth stuck to his thighs. A gruff grunt of frustration vibrates in his throat, hands flying to the base of his tail to extricate himself from the constraints of his taut tewng [loincloth]. He’s struggling. Floundering around as if he wanted to step out his own skin.
Your heart sinks at the sight. You want to help him. Make the pain go away. You know it all too well. To feel out of control and confused, dazed, and flustered from the actual heat brewing in your core. But all you can do is watch him from a far as he squirms against the cave wall, panic-stricken eyes growing lidded and heavy.
I had a hard time understanding what was happening. Much like you.
Young Ralak finally unfetters the knot, loincloth unpeeling from his clammy skin. He sighs a breath of relief. Finally free from his restraints, his painfully hard cock springs up, veiny and throbbing from his intense arousal. It’s almost red, mushroomy tip bulging and swollen with a thick, lengthy string of glossy precum leaking from his slit. It hangs freely in the air, swinging side to side as his cock jumps to the pulse of his heart. The swaying rope of slick finally catches along his length and begins to drip down to his – oh?
Is that your –
My knot. I was surprised to see it, too.
It’s huge. This is the first time that you’re seeing it up front. Sure, you’ve felt it before. Fuck, you even wanted to take it during your real first time – but you’ve never seen it like this.
“Tewti [whoa; wow].” Young Ralak mumbles, lidded eyes widening once they land on the sight of his knot emerging for the first time. It’s bulbous and veiny, pulsing madly as it continues to swell. A breathy moan parts his lips as a curious hand reaches for it, eager to find out how it feels. Slickened from his precum, his fingers glide over it easily, feeling the bump of each vein. His hips buck from his own touch, cock thrusting into nothingness.
Your thighs rub together at the sight. You’d never seen him this turned on before. Not even on the night of your iknimaya. And honestly, neither has he. He’s shocked to see himself so red and swollen, throbbing from how painfully hard he is. He stares at himself in awe, watching his hips stutter and squirming by themselves.
He’d never been inclined to touch himself in this way, not even in the early mornings when he was at his biggest. He would just wait for it to go down and if it was ever too overwhelming, he would come here for a quick bath. But the bath isn’t working today. It’s just too humid and hot for only water to cool down with.
Flustered, he gives into his impulses.
Webbed hand gripping his knot, he strokes upwards, cupping his pulsing tip as it oozes slick over the back of his hand. His head dips back, jaw clenched tightly as his hips stutter, palm of his hand now rubbing on the most tender part of his cockhead. He’s so sensitive – so innocent – like a single thrust of his hips would make his inflamed tip... erupt.
Oh, fuck. You shift your weight from one foot to the other - anything for a little friction.
His cock throbs madly, thick strings of his sticky seed spurting out his slit, an orgasm so powerful he can’t bite back the lengthy, pained whimper coming from his mouth. He looks down, feeling something warm on his stomach. Surprised, he let’s go of himself, staring at the thick bead of white liquid rolling between his abs.
“Oh – Oh Eywa.” He exhales wobbly, trembling hand hovering over his tender and raw cock. He’s so afraid to touch it again. But he wants to. He needs to. He just can’t help himself. All he wants to do is hump away at something – anything.
Anything to get rid of this feeling. The feeling of pure, unrefined frustration, engrained deep in his most inner being. As more time passes, he succumbs to his most primitive self, plunging under the thick, hazy trance of his rut. He grabs a hold of his aching cock, stroking it at the pace his stammering hips set for him. His head slumps back into the wall, chin pointing towards the cave’s roof as he lets loose needy, broken whines into the air.
His eyes squeeze shut, brows knotting together to focus on that gnawing feeling deep in his core. In a split second his whimpers morph into deep, guttural groans, white milky essence spilling from his tip, over his hand and onto his tensed stomach. His eyes pop open, mouth hanging agape as he sucks in a quick, shaky breath of air.
Tears well in his eyes, glossing them over with want and desperation. The blush on his cheeks spreads over the bridge of his nose, breath so hot you could practically see it. He pulls away his hand, exposing his cock, thumping madly as beads of cum roll down his shaft. It’s even harder now, so fucking hard that it strains, pulling his skin so taut that its outright painful.
He fully slumps back against the wall, snapping his hips back to get rid of the intense stretching feeling. He almost caves in on himself, desperate for release. For relief. He begins panting – heavily. Trembling lungs making it hard to catch a full breath, he feels his head spin. Finally, the tears roll down his cheeks. Tears of torment.
The first tears you’ve ever seen fall from his face.
This is what you’ve been going through? All alone? For six years?
Yes. Ralak didn’t seem to be embarrassed by you seeing this at all. In fact, it feels as if he’s... enjoying it. Not necessarily enjoying watching himself suffer, but watching you squirm around trying to deny your own arousal.
Young Ralak slides down the rough wall, finding support on a small ledge near the bank of the lake. He swallows the saliva pooling in his cheeks, trembling hand slowly making its way back down to his aching cock all on its own. He grits his teeth as the pads of his fingers graze his chafed skin. He’s so rubbed out and raw that he whines at the sensation.
It’s like stones in your heart, clunking around as your breath quickens. You feel so helpless, so frustrated, unable to do anything to relieve your mate’s pain, albeit a memory. “Ralak.” You blurt out, surprised to hear your own voice in this hazy reverie.
What shocks you more is when he snaps his head towards you, acknowledging your presence with his delirious, inebriated eyes. You never even knew something like this was possible. You knew you could visit memories, just like you would when plugging in to the spirit tree. But to be involved and interact with them is hard to wrap your head around.
You test the waters a little more, and approach him cautiously, hands splayed out in front of you to show that you have no ill intentions. He watches you move towards him, irises flickering between his usual azure blue to a shade of mauve. You can tell he’s uncertain, just by the way he tries to retreat further into the wall with hand practically plastered to his cock.
“W-Who are y-you?” His voice is wobbly and hoarse.
Tanhì. You ignore Ralak’s warning echoing in your mind and continue moving toward his younger self.
“I am... your mate.” You say in a calming voice.
“M-mate?” He can barely get the word out when a wave of heat ripples through him, making his face red and screw with discomfort. “What’s – ngh, w-what’s happening to m-me?” He panics, bottom lip quivering.
“You’re in rut.” You say quietly, hand extending experimentally, your fingertips brush against his clammy thigh.
I can feel you, Ralak. So maybe I can help you.
His freckles blink from your touch, ears hugging his skull as closely as they can. You can hear the faint chitter of his teeth, jaw clenching and unclenching as he tries to put a stop to it. He’s panting so heavily – so quickly that soon he’s hyperventilating, about to lose it.
“Hey. Hey. Breathe. It’s alright. You’re okay.” You try to reassure him in a soothing voice, resting your hand gently on his thigh. “I – I can help you... if you want me to… I know how you’re feeling.”
Tahni. Ralaks stern voice booms in your head, but you continue to ignore him. You couldn’t take it anymore – watching him suffer in this way, even if it’s just a memory. The thought of him going through this alone for six years of his life makes your heart turn in on itself. Besides, you know that he can always pull you out of this daydream with a simple tug at your kurus.
“It hurts... ssst – why does it, w-why?” He mewls breathily, hand reflexively stroking his length, knot to tip.
Your hand slides up his thigh and over his hand, stopping his eager movements. “I have something better. Something that will get rid of the pain.” You say breathily, nodding your head a bit. “B-But only if you want it.”
Young Ralak nods frantically, allowing you to guide his hands to your waist. His innocent, frightened eyes snap up to yours, making their final flicker to a beautiful mauve as they silently beg for reassurance.
“Don’t be scared. I’m right here. You’re going to be alright.” You croon at him, making your way between his legs as you untie the knot of your soddened loincloth.
You’re going to hurt yourself, y/n. Another warning.
Always so worried about me, and never yourself.
Once your loincloth drops to your knees the scent of your arousal fills the air, driving young Ralak into the thick of his rut. His pupils thin to slits and his fingertips sink into your waist, pulling you into him. Your hands slump into his chest, before sliding up to wrap around his neck for support as you mount your younger mate.
You’re squatting over him, knees pressing against either side of your breasts as you position his cock between your slickened folds. Greedy hands explore your body, gliding up and down your back before gripping your hips to move them up and down his length. He groans, closing his eyes to savour the feeling of something so soft and wet rubbing against him.
Putting pressure on your heels, you slide your slit up to his tip, shifting your hips downwards to position him at your entrance. His cock, desperate to sink itself into anything, goes into a thrusting frenzy once it feels your soft opening. He digs his nails into your skin as he forces you down onto him in one hard thrust. You hide your face in the crook of his neck in hopes to muffle the loud, pained groan falling from your lips.
You can feel every inch of him, just as you would if this were all real. Every vein. Every bump. Every throb. Once you look back at him, you’re met with frightened, innocent eyes, worried that he just hurt you. You smile wobbly, moving your hands to cup his jawbone. “I’m okay. Shh – it’s okay.”
“’m sorry.” He huffs, furrowed brows pinching even tighter as he thrusts into you, jamming his swollen cockhead into your cervix repeatedly. “s-so sorry.”
You rest your forehead against his, looking each other deep in the eyes as he ruts into you like an animal. His thrusts have no rhythm, hips stuttering at an unpredictable, broken pace. His noises are bestial and primal, whimpering and whining as he struggles to move properly.
“Oh, ma ‘Lak. Don’t b-be. jus’ want y-you to feel be-better.” Your voice bounces, hand reaching behind you to press down on his thigh to stop his movements all together. His hips come to a halt, with the occasional unintentional buck, hand caressing his thigh for a bit until he calms down fully.
“Easy, take it easy. Like this” Your hand slides up his thigh, slender fingers gripping the side of his hip to slowly pull him forward. His hips jerk forward on impulse, ramming his head back into your sore cervix. “Agh! A little – a little more gently.” You let out a sweet little cry, pushing his hips away from you.
His breath deepens so much that you can hear it – chest heaving so harshly his shoulders are visibly rising and falling. “S-sorry. Sorry.” He buries his hot face into your chest as he apologizes continually, trying to control the jerk of his hips. His arms wrap tightly around your waist to pull you in for a closer embrace.
Finally, he sinks into you slowly, completely bottoming out in your cunt until his knot kisses the softness of your slit. It’s so sensitive and neglected that he grimaces into your soft breasts, pulling away as he sucks in a quick breath of air with a ‘sss’. You look down to see his brows pinched, lips slightly parted and eyes screwed tightly shut.
He’s having such a hard time – struggling to breathe, struggling to control himself, struggling to be gentle. You can see the glister of the tears seeping from the corners of his eyes and oh – how that makes your heart throb. “Good boy. Doing such a good job, you know that?” You coo with trembling lungs, pulling his head back into you, resting his chin on your shoulder.
You hold him close, cradling him like a baby, cooing in his ear about how well he’s doing. “It’s okay. You’re okay. Just listen to your body.” Your voice quavers as you repeat his own signature words back to him. “Do what you need. Okay?”
He lets out a weak grunt, tightening his hold around you while he snaps his hips back. You can feel every vein and ridge against your gummy walls as he pulls out, and when he sinks himself back in you swear you can feel his swollen knot poking at your entrance. Again. And again. And again. And soon he quickens his broken pace, pounding into you so hard it feels like it may pop in at any second.
Heart slamming violently between your ribs, you tighten your grip around him as you prepare to be knotted for the first time. His lewd noises increase in volume and bass and soon he’s groaning gutturally as his frenzied thrusts become short and deep. So fucking deep that you can’t help but let out a pathetic little whimper when he pushes past the resistance in attempts to shove his fat knot inside you.
And that’s when you feel it.
“It’s happening. Haa – ah! Ha-ppening.” He groans suddenly, grinding even harder into you.
“Let it - haah- happen. Go on, there you go.” You pant, feeling his thick cock pulsate inside you, spurting ropes of his hot, sticky cum in your womb, filling you up until you feel heavy and oh-so-fucking full. It’s so much, it’s overflowing, excess seeping out to dribble down his knot. He’s allows a soft ‘ngh’ to fall from his lips with every pulse of his cock.
He continues to roll his hips into you, a little scared by his body’s impulsive, greedy movements. But he can’t help it, the way his body is screaming to shove this growing bulge inside your tight, little hole. He’s whimpering, at war with himself as he tries his best not to knot you.
Tanhì!
“Don’t fight it. Do it!” You cry out a high-pitched moan, grinding into immense pressure between your legs. You can feel it work its way inside you, stretching you out so much that it burns. But you know this will make him feel better – make the pain go away. “Harder. Push h-harder.” You quiet down to an encouraging, shaky whisper. He’s pushing up into you and shoving you down by your hips at the same time, clenching his jaw from the way you’re pinching him.
Pop.
“Ngh!” It slips in with an audible squelch, burning sensation between your legs growing even hotter. And hotter. And hotter. And oh – fuck. It’s so hot it feels like a ring of fire surrounding his pulsating knot. It hurts – but it hurts so good. So good that your pussy walls flutter around him uncontrollably. “F-fuck!” You cry out, quickly coming to the realization that you’re cumming from the way his knot is burying itself inside you.
He holds onto you tightly as he continues to move inside you, tugging at you as you try to come down from your unexpected high. “W-wait – Ralak!” You whimper loudly, trying to follow his erratic movements. He’s whining from the overstimulation and the way you’re pinching around him; eyes flying wide open to reveal pure panic and guilt when he quickly understands that he’s hurting you.
Suddenly, your vision goes white as the ear-splitting ring pierces your eardrums and in a matter of seconds, you’re back in your shared marui. You open your eyes with an audible gasp to see Ralak peering up at you through furrowed brows. His gaze is almost predatory – piercing, and unflinching. His slumped shoulders rise and fall from how heavily he’s breathing, darkened, almost purple-y mauve irises flicking down to his taut loincloth – soaked with his thick cum.
“Oh, shit.” You breathe, unaware that he was feeling everything, too.
“Only I knot you.” Ralak growls.
A giggle bubbles up your throat, “Really Lak?Jealous? Of yourself?”
He grunts, displeased with your behaviour. “Do not taunt me, Tanhì.”
——
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