Content(s): Na'vi/Sarentu Reader. Doesn't take place in the fire and ash DLC (because I don't own it yet 💔), mentions of wounds, blood, fighting and destruction. Angst with comfort, arguing.
[A/n] I have a very unhealthy attachment to this man, I love him so much.
Ever since you were freed from your cryo pod, you've been working overtime around Pandora. You were finally free to see the world you were robbed off, finally able to breathe the air your lungs ached for. It was beautiful, more than beautiful. It was as if a part of you was finally coming back into place, filling the gap that had been like a bleeding wound for years. You have Alma and So'lek to thank for this freedom. While Alma is currently treading on thin ice with you and your fellow Sarentu friends, you can't deny that she saved your lives, and so did So'lek.
So'lek was the first Na'vi outside of your tight circle that you've ever met. He knew about Pandora, he lived around it, was part of his own clan, he had the knowledge you yearned for, and the experience. You admired him, even if he always insisted that you shouldn't. One of your fondest memories with him is when he gave you your first songcord, of course you used to have your mother's, before Mercer took that last bit of identity you had, but to have your own? Specifically made by So'lek? It made you feel warm and fuzzy for weeks.
You wore the songcord with pride, each new addition to it making you feel more in tune with your heritage. You didn't know it then, but So'lek was pleased to see you so happy, he wanted to help you feel as if you belonged, because you do. Pandora is your home, and he wanted to make sure you remembered that, even when Mercer's words would tear you up inside. He could understand loss, being the only survivor of his clan is a heavy burden he'll always carry, but he had something you didn't, memories. He could tell stories of his people, he could sing their songs and carry on their memories, but you? You were stripped of that right.
You didn't get to make memories, or hear the stories from your people, all you have is the stories from other clans. You never got to witness what it meant to be Sarentu, instead having to be put out on your own feet, trying to figure it out for yourself. So'lek already held hatred for the sky people, but knowing what you and your friends went through under the sky peoples control only fueled the fire within him.
So'lek admired your tenacity, but unlike him, you weren't fueled with revenge or hatred. You were angry, yes, but you never let that anger control you. You were always so emotionally intelligent, something So'lek envied about you. If anyone had the right to revenge, it would be you too, wouldn't it? The sky people killed your entire clan, stealing you and your friends away as children, they even killed your sister right in front of you. It perplexed him, to say the least. His entire clan was wiped out, leaving him as the sole survivor and all he had was his anger, his hatred, but you prevailed. He had asked you one day after an RDA raid, and your words would forever stick with him.
“I am angry, and I do hate” You had said, your songcord held gently between your hands, “But I cannot change the past. So I accept it, I accept the pain, the anger, and the hurt, and because of this— I will move forward, for a better Pandora.”
You had sounded so wise that day, wiser than him, and your words resonated with something deep in his heart. So'lek didn't want to live in the past, he didn't want to drown in his hatred, so he remembered you and your words any time he slipped, anytime he felt that anger burn in his veins. He remembered your smile, he remembered the way your tail had curled, brushing against his own in the subtle comfort of two people who both lost everything. You were his guiding star, whether you knew it or not. There was something about you that So'lek couldn't handle, however, and that was your recklessness.
You have taken down dozens of RDA drill sites alone, you and your ikran weaving through the air, narrowly avoiding the blasts from the anti-air turrets. Your bow drawn, arrows flying and hitting the hearts of machines and humans alike. You are strong, you're powerful and oh so skilled, So'lek knew this. He knew that you're capable, knew that you're able to handle yourself in a fight, but he worried, he prayed to Eywa more times than he'll ever admit for your safety. Today was no different when it came to that, he stared at the pollution scale at headquarters, watching the numbers slowly tick up one by one.
You were at the upper plains just a few days ago, finally heading back to headquarters. You had taken down another one of the RDA drill sites, it was successful, you had said so, you radioed in and said it yourself just three days ago, so where were you?
You should've been back by morning, it was late evening now. So'lek's tail flicked anxiously behind him, shoulders tense and body coiled like a spring ready to snap at any given second. Where were you? Was the only question on his mind, he couldn't think of anything else, not when you were always so punctual. “So'lek!” Priya came rushing through headquarters with Ri’nela behind her, the pair looking distraught, “What happened—?” He asked, tail curling and thoughts spiraling. Priya and Ri'nela shared a look, both uneasy, “[Y/n] went down near the crimson forest” Priya said, her voice strained with fear, fingers trembling.
That's all So'lek needed to hear, quickly grabbing his bow and securing it over his shoulder, not waiting to hear another word as he rushed through headquarters. He called for his Ikran, ìleys wings beating as he landed, he jumped onto his back, connecting his kuru and rushing off into the sky. His heart was pounding in his ears with the wind, he knew he should've went with you, knew he shouldn't have let you go alone. Ìley could feel the So'leks distress, the poor ikran beating its wings faster in its own worry.
<-->
With the speed So'lek was racing at, it took no time at all to reach the crimson forest. Noticing the way a few branches were broken in the trees, he guided ìley to land. His heart pounded in his ears, carefully tracking the broken branches and wrecked foliage until he finally heard the familiar chirp of your ikran. “Sarentu!” So'lek shouted without thinking, quickly pushing through the thick fauna until he saw you. Your ikran had you protectively wrapped up in its wings, fangs barring the moment it heard So'lek approach. “Easy—” So'lek lifted his hands, bow holstered, your ikran hesitated, but it knew So'lek, knew he was trustworthy. So it slowly lifted its wing, revealing your unconscious form. So'lek could've sworn his heart dropped at the sight of you.
Your head was bleeding, likely from the fall, but the bullet wounds in your shoulder and side were what got his undivided attention. His gaze lifted for only a second, quickly taking in the surroundings, one of the RDA helicopters crashed a few yards away, likely due to your intervention, and what got you in this predicament in the first place. “Skxawng” He cursed under his breath, carefully lifting you into his arms. He climbed onto ìley, securing you against his chest before flying off, your ikran following close behind. Racing against time was the hardest part, also having to stay low and out of sight of RDA planes, but he managed, his grip on you never wavering.
When he finally reached base he rushed you to the medical corner, Anufi was there already, having stopped by after you helped her clan band together again. “Help them!” So'leks voice was a deep growl, commanding instead of asking, not that he had too. His heart was pounding, your blood still staining his blue skin and his clothes. Poor Priya was practically speaking at five miles a minute, her worry for you evident, along with Ri'nela who sat off to the side, hands clasped together in a prayer for Eywa. All the adrenaline that had pushed him here was finally fading, his shoulders sagging as exhaustion weighed heavily upon them. He took a step back, then two, until the back of his calves hit one of the medical beds, falling down onto it.
He hated feeling this way, hated feeling this fragile, this vulnerable, but with your life on the line, all he could feel was that bone chilling fear. You did this all the time, way too often— you'd take down RDA facilities alone, sneaking in and sabotaging them from inside. You're good at it, that wasn't up for debate, but more than once Priya has told you not to go alone, more than once Ri'nela has lectured you on safety. So'lek himself never said much besides a passing “Stay out of sight” or a “Don't get caught off guard”. Maybe he should've said more, maybe he should've lectured you too, told you to let him accompany you— or at least take someone else with you.
Should have—
What if—
Those thoughts raged through his mind for hours as Anufi dug the bullets out of you, as she stitched you up and applied medical herbs. Hours of this mental torture. No one could get him to move, So'lek stayed in the bed beside yours, he refused to leave it, needing to physically see that you're still alive, still breathing. It was absolutely agonizing how the minutes dragged on, feeling like an eternity.
He stared down at your bandaged head, his fingers carefully pushing back the strands of your hair, lightly tracing over the bandages. His heart ached at the sight, he wanted to look away, to pull himself together and finally walk off— but he couldn't. His heart wouldn't let him, and neither would his feet, even when Ri'nela brought him food he still didn't look up from you. Perhaps it was obvious to everyone but him, but Ri'nela understood his concerns, his needs. She loved you like a sibling, having lost and endured many of the same trials, but she knew So'leks care for you ran much deeper than that, no matter how hard he'd try to deny it.
“Didn't think I'd ever see you at my bedside” Your voice made his head snap up, yellow eyes widening as he met your gaze. His heart stuttered, breath caught in his throat, he doesn't know how long it's been since he saw those beautiful eyes, since he heard your voice that often soothed his sorrows. “Sarentu—” He breathed out, quickly standing from the hospital bed and to your bedside, his hand taking yours as the other smoothed out your hair. “I hate when you call me that” Your smile was like a soothing balm on his soul, all that pain and sorrow dulling under your watchful gaze. However, that peace he felt was short lived— frustration quickly mingling with his fear and worry, “Skxawng” He hissed, ears pointing back, “What were you thinking? Going in alone again.”
Your own ears pointed back, smile strained as you looked up at him, “I didn't intend too—”
“Intention means nothing—! How many times do we have to tell you to be careful?” He snapped back, cutting you off as his tail lashed out behind him, “You can't take everything alone” His voice came out quieter this time, the twitch in his lips showing his worry. For a moment, silence settled between you, his hand now gently cupping your cheek, thumb lightly brushing over the Sarentu mark on your cheek. “I'm sorry” You whispered softly, head gently leaning into his touch, eyes fluttering shut. “I'm sorry for making you worry” Your words helped his frustrations melt away, still feeling them deep in his bones— but right now, all that mattered was you. You were here, alive, and that's more than he could ever ask for.
“You are too important for me to lose” So'leks voice came out in a quiet whisper, carefully kneeling to press his forehead to the top of your head. The position wasn't comfortable, the hospital beds were made for humans instead of Na'vi, so much shorter in height, but he didn't care. He needed this, much like you did. Needed to feel you against him, needed to feel the best of your heart and the rise of your chest. “I'll be more careful, for you” You said softly, your arm carefully wrapping around his neck, keeping him close to you as your heads nuzzled together, “I know— I'm sorry” You said softly, noses gently brushing against one another's cheeks.
He had never been this affectionate, it was so out of character— but you didn't stop him, you couldn't, not when he held you as if you were going to suddenly disappear. His hand lowered to your waist, brushing against the bandaging there with a heavy sigh, “I can't lose anyone else” So'lek whispered quietly, your ears barely picking up on it, “Especially not you”. Your chest warmed, feeling it creep up your neck, as you held him closer. So'lek, the ever stoic man was here holding onto you as if his life depended on it. He raised his head, lips brushing against your hairline in a soft kiss that had your heart soaring. “I promise I will live long enough to worry you for the rest of our lives” You said, your voice tilting on teasing as you smiled softly. So'lek let out an exasperated laugh, deep and gruff that scratched your ears just right, “Perfect.”
Toxic Lip Gallagher being your baby daddy that gets on your nerves, but he's the best lay you've ever had, and you can't resist letting him have his way with you whenever he visits.
he may have been a shitty boyfriend but he was an exceptionally good dad, especially to your kid, lip had gotten you knocked up in the early years and you both broke up after looks of shit went down
"hey buddy how was school today, got any good grade"
"it was good I got a 100 on my math test"
"that's amazing how 'bout you go wait in the car while I talk to dad"
you were happy he was taking care of his kid instead of abandoning so you had to give him props where props were due but still every time you did see him you usually ended up annoyed as fuck at his shenanigans
"you said you'd be here four hours ago"
"something came up"
"was that something at the alibi"
while he tried to be a good dad and not as shitty as frank was he still fell short in some places such as his drinking problem but he started getting it under control more and more
"tell you what how about i drop him off with Ian and mickey and I can come back and we can talk about this"
you knew the only talking that was gonna happen once he got back were going to be the sounds of your moans and please for him to fuck you harder and just as you thought that's what happened
lip having you bent over the couch slamming into your hole roughly, making you moan out like a porn star and he loved watching how he could still turn you into the fucking slut you used to be
"c'mon you see how the kid wants us to get back together, what's the worst that could happen"
"you getting me pregnant again"
"well he has been saying he wants a baby brother so we could try"
he always shot his idea of getting back together and having another kid with you, by now you were starting to think he really just wanted to see you waddling around with a belly full of his growing cum again
Lip visits the Jackson household once again. After knocking on the door, he hears a voice allowing him to come in. As he enters the house, he sees Sheila in the kitchen, baking a cake.
“Hey, Lip. Karen is still out, but you can wait,” Sheila says kindly. “I made some cookies.”
“No, thanks.” Lip glances toward the stairs and around the living room. “How about Y/N?”
“Upstairs.”
“Thanks.” Lip takes the stairs to the next floor.
He peeks into Y/N’s room, only to find it empty. That’s when the blonde continues looking around the floor. He hears the sound of the shower behind the bathroom door. After a few seconds, Lip opens the door, noticing the shower curtain is drawn. Looking intrigued, he walks over to the shower and pulls the curtain open, revealing Karen’s younger brother showering.
Y/N turns around, spotting the fully dressed man. “Want to join?”
“Do you even need to ask?” Lip replies, beginning to take off his clothes.
-
Lip and Y/N are sitting downstairs, watching TV while enjoying some drinks. From the kitchen, Sheila frequently glances toward them, finding it wholesome that they enjoy each other’s company. The Jackson family has had quite a bit of drama over the last year, with the death of the father, Sheila’s struggle with her fear of the outside world, Karen’s cheating, and her pregnancy. Sheila is glad her youngest child is staying out of the drama and hopes it stays that way. As she continues baking her cake, the home phone rings. Y/N stands up to answer it.
“Y/N Jackson.”
“Hey, I’ll be staying at Mark’s house tonight,” Karen says over the phone.
Y/N looks at his sister’s boyfriend. “What about Lip?”
“Just say I’m busy. Later.”
Y/N frowns as he realizes Karen has already hung up. He turns back to Sheila. “Karen is staying with one of her friends again.”
“Okay. That’s one less person for dinner.” she mutters to herself.
“How about take-out, Mom?” Y/N suggests. “We should save your cooking skills for when we’re all here.”
“Good idea!” Sheila smiles widely. “Let’s get something from McDonald’s. Lip, do you want to stay for dinner?”
Lip looks at both of them, but his focus is only on Y/N’s eyes. With a smirk on his face, Lip knows this is going to be a fun night if he stays. “I’ll stay.”
“Great. I’ll get some fries and burgers.” Sheila walks over to the table to grab her keys. Then, she heads to the coat rack for her coat. “Make sure the cake doesn’t burn, sweetie.”
“Will do, Mom.”
With a look of glee on her face, Sheila leaves the house, leaving the two boys alone. Y/N takes a moment to watch her leave through the window. Once she’s gone, Y/N returns to the couch, where Lip is clearly anticipating something.
“You want to fuck again?”
“Nah.” Y/N sits down next to him, putting his arm around him. “Can we just snuggle?”
“I didn’t know we were getting to that.” Lip can feel Y/N’s head resting on his left shoulder.
“So fucking is fine, but snuggling is too much?”
“I never said that.” With a smirk, Lip puts his arm around Y/N.
A comfortable silence settles between them as they continue watching TV. They can feel each other’s warmth. It’s rare for them to be together without sex, something Y/N wants more of.
“Karen is with Mark again.” Lip stays quiet as he takes a sip from his drink. “Does it upset you that she keeps cheating on you?”
“No.” Y/N isn’t sure whether Lip is being truthful or not. “It’s not like I’m any better.”
“At least you don’t intend to sell an unborn child,” Y/N points out. Lip stays quiet, still watching the TV. “I know you want to keep it.”
“How would you know?” Lip asks, turning his face to look at the man leaning against him.
“I can read it on your face,” Y/N answers. “Even if it’s not your child, there’s something in you that wants to take care of someone.” Lip remains quiet, looking back at the TV. “You deserve better than her.”
“And you’re saying that because you want the best for me, or because you want to be more than just fuck buddies?”
“Both.”
Lip turns back to face him, unsure of how to respond. While the thought of being with Y/N often lingers in his mind, something is holding him back. Maybe it’s Karen and their child. Maybe it’s the fact that he’s getting involved with the brother of the girl he’s spent so much time with. Maybe it’s because it’s with another man. He’s not sure.
Y/N can tell Lip is deep in thought. “...I didn’t upset you, did I?”
“Hm?” Lip snaps back to reality. “Uh—no. Just thinking. ...It’s not that I don’t want to be with you. It’s just...” He lets out a sigh. “I can’t really explain it.”
Y/N hums in understanding. He scoots a bit closer and holds Lip tighter. “How about we just enjoy things as they are? You don’t have to worry about labels or anything. Just... enjoy what we’ve got.”
Lip rests his head against Y/N’s. Even though he doesn’t know what to make of his situation with Y/N, he knows he enjoys his time with him.
-
After dinner and a few hours later, everyone heads to bed. Y/N offers Lip to stay the night, which he accepts. Lip initially says he’ll use Karen’s room, but he ends up sharing a bed with Y/N. As the night goes on, both guys enjoy each other’s company.
They’re shirtless, lying on the bed as they recover after their fun time. Y/N looks over at Lip, who’s once again deep in thought. The blonde looks a bit startled when he’s embraced by his partner.
“You’re still thinking about us?”
“Just life in general.” Lip admits. “College, Karen, the future...” He quickly searches for his cigarettes. When he finds them, he puts one in his mouth and lights it up. “God, I sound so depressed...”
“Are you?”
“Fuck no.” Lip takes a deep drag from the cigarette and exhales some smoke.
Y/N chuckles. “Well, if you want to talk, I’m all ears.”
Lip knows that. He continues to smoke in Y/N’s arms, thinking about the offer. He’s not really one to talk about his feelings, but he feels safe with Y/N.
“I just feel stressed out. It’s like everything is happening all at once. And the worst part is, I feel like I’m the last one to choose what’s going to happen. Fiona keeps egging me on about college. Karen keeps complaining about baby money. Frank is being Frank. And then there’s you...” He looks back at Y/N. “And I don’t know how to handle it.”
Y/N hums. “Makes you want to run away, huh?”
“It sure does.” Lip agrees. He takes another deep drag. “And the funny thing is, you and me... we’re the least of my problems. That’s probably why we hang out so much.”
Lip feels a peck on his cheek. “Well, whenever you feel stressed, you can come to me. We can talk, hang out... or...” Lip clenches his fists as he suddenly feels Y/N’s hand move down. “Just some simple stress relief.”
“I’m always open for stress relief.” Lip says between breaths as he puts out his cigarette on Y/N’s nightstand. With that gone, he’s ready for another round of fun.
-
Months have passed, and things haven’t gotten better. Karen is hellbent on selling her son, leaving Lip with little choice but to go along with it. In the background, his secret affair with Y/N continues to thrive.
One day, it’s time for the baby to arrive. The Jacksons and Gallaghers all go to the hospital to witness the birth of Karen and Lip’s child. But they soon discover that the baby isn’t Lip’s. To make matters worse, the child is born with Down syndrome, meaning adoption is no longer an option. Lip is quick to leave the hospital after the revelation. Some of the others try to go after him, but they fail.
There’s only one person who manages to find him. Out of nowhere, Y/N finds Lip sitting on the hood of a car, smoking heavily. Along with the cigarette, he’s drinking beer straight from the bottle. His face is wet and red, though the tears are still falling. When Y/N approaches him, Lip notices but says nothing, his expression lost and defeated.
Y/N moves closer and wraps his arms around Lip. Lip buries his head in the other man’s chest and starts crying again, desperately clutching him. Seconds turn into minutes as Y/N continues to hold and console him. He isn’t sure how long it takes for Lip to quiet down, but when he looks down, he sees Lip looking up at him. Gently, Y/N sits beside him, putting an arm around the man he loves.
“I’m sorry, Lip...” Lip moves closer, resting his head on Y/N’s shoulder. Y/N notices he’s still not saying anything. “Do you want to get a motel room or something?” He can’t imagine Lip going back home after everything that’s happened. The only response he gets is a simple nod.
-
Lip spent the last couple of days with Y/N, processing everything that had happened. They stayed in a motel, where Y/N made sure to comfort Lip whenever he felt down.
A week passed, and Y/N decided it might be time for them to head back. On a sunny day, the couple sat on a bench in the park. That’s when Y/N decided to share some news.
“Karen left…” Y/N began, with Lip merely listening. “Mom wants to take care of the baby, but Karen doesn’t. She threatened to leave if Mom didn’t disown the baby... and then she left.” Y/N looked back at the park, enjoying the calm atmosphere, the sound of birds chirping, and the sight of leaves swaying in the gentle breeze. “Mom wanted to know what I was going to do. I told her I’m nothing like my sister, and that I’ll help where I can.”
Lip remained quiet.
“I told Fiona you needed time to think. She was cool with that. A week has passed, and I’m wondering if you’re ready to go back. If you’re not, that’s fine.”
“I’ll go back.” Lip answered. “I’ve moped around enough.”
“You sure?”
“Yes.” Lip said calmly. “I want to go back.”
Y/N hummed. “Let’s head back to pack.”
“Wait.” Lip spoke up, causing Y/N to look back at him. “There’s something I need to say.” The taller man could tell Lip was looking a bit nervous. “Thank you for staying with me. It feels like, when everything is going wrong, you’re the only one who stands by my side.”
“Of course. I won’t abandon you. I’ll stay by your side.”
Lip couldn’t help but smile. “You’re so kind to me, even though I’ve been an asshole to you.” He took a deep breath. “I wish I could’ve told you sooner, but... I love you.”
Y/N looked surprised but soon smiled. “I love you too.”
Lip smiled even wider. “At least with you, I don’t have to worry about you getting pregnant.”
Y/N laughed. “Even if I could, I sure wouldn’t cheat on you.”
Hearing that reassurance, Lip felt safer than he ever had before. “Can we stay here just a little while longer?” He grabbed Y/N’s hand, causing his new boyfriend to smile even more.
Ever since your two adorable catboys have started to regularly play mate, you keep a closer eye on them. Like every good owner you have them on contraceptives, so you won’t end up with the task of rehoming an entire litter any time soon, but a little voice inside your head tells you to keep a firm watch.
You soon come to realize why. Your tabby catboy has always been a bit bigger and stronger than your little calico, so really you shouldn’t be surprised when you notice a pattern in their play mating that has him coming out as the sole winner. It irks you. A couple of denied or even ruined orgasms are fun and all, but the way they play isn’t really fair to little Calico. It usually starts out as normal kitten’s play; your two catboys will paw and swat at each other which then turns into a wild chase through the house and ends up with them roughhousing on the floor. This is the point where Tabby almost always gains the upper hand. He will wrestle Calico into submission until he’s towering over the smaller cat and then rut against him until he finds release, which has always come easier to him than it did for Calico.
You can’t be mad about it either, not when you’ve never taught Tabby better, but their play mating has only started recently and you’re a very busy person so there simply hasn’t been the right time to train him just yet. Still, it isn’t very fair to Calico, so the next time you see it happening you intervene.
It happens like it always does and ends with Tabby rutting against Calico's ass until he cums and his little catboy cock sprays milky white cum all over Calico's panties. He stops moving not long after, his body heavy amd motionless on top of Calico's, the bulk of his weight leaving your smaller boy unable to move. This time, though, when Calico's big eyes find your own and he let's out a whiny mew, asking for you, you move into action. Lifting a confused and slightly grumpy Tabby up and to the side, you free your calico catboy and pull him up into your lap. With his back pressed against your chest and his legs spread apart wide, his pretty cunt is perfectly exposed to the room. Shying away, Calico squirms and winds in your lap, but as soon as your fingers find his clit he realizes that you are helping him and practically arches into your touch. Gathering up the slick that's running down Calico's quivering thighs, you don't hesitate to pick up the pace.
Tabby watches wide-eyed and open-mouthed as you fingers quickly work over Calico's clit with enough enthusiasm that it has your catboy mewling and panting in your lap as his hips studder and twitch uncontrollably. "Oh, you poor little kitten," you coo at him, "has Tabby not played nice with you? Do you need my help to cum, little thing?"
"Ye- Yes, please. Please- Please!"
You smile and tighten your grip around Calico's middle, pressing him harder against your own body, knowing that the close contact is crucial for a catboy. "Don't worry sweetheart, I know what a good boy you've been. I won't keep you waiting," you promise and double your efforts. With how pent up your poor kitty has been, it doesn't take long for him fall apart underneath you. Calico cums with a loud howl and your name on his lips. His small body twitches and trembles from the aftershocks of his orgasm and you proudly praise him for being such a good boy. You give him a moment to breathe, idly petting his sides, before one of your fingers dips into his entrance. Oversensitive and confused, Calico let's out a helpless little "Huh?" and you grin at him.
"You came so prettily for me, sweetheart, I think you deserve a little treat."
Nobody cares but I'm headcanoning that Astarion loves when his partner talks to him during sex.
And not just the normal amount either.
To have their voice as a reliable, steady anchor, effortlessly keeping him focused, keeping him safe. Never just endless, mindless prattle, but light bantering, full on tangents onto other subjects, accidentally pulling each other out of the mood with an unrelated remark before slipping back into it, checking if something feels good, lame sex jokes that they probably wouldn't get away with normally, but that Astarion doesn't mind as much in the moment because maybe it is a little funny; and sleeping together stops being this attempt at a perfect performance, but an unburdened exchange, real, unpracticed, just another layer of conversation, so radically separated in nature and intent from the traumatic encounters of his past.
Keeps him grounded in the present, doesn't matter if it's sloppy directions to coordinate limbs while trying a new position, erupting in laughter when dramatically messing things up, or some dumb comment about the fact that his fingers are too cold; it all somehow feels so much more intimate than the lewdest of dirty talk.
It's a small thing but it helps take pressure away, turns intimacy into something familiar, fun, uncomplicated, that he has control over, that allows him to feel himself and be himself completely.
Summary: You've been in love with the chief's daughter since you were young children but things take a strange turn when your chief forms an alliance with the Sully's by arranging a marriage between his eldest daughter and their eldest son,Neteyam,making him your sworn enemy.
Trigger warning!: mentions of arranged marriage without consent,hunting and death of animals,Neteyam is aged up to 20 (not proofread)
A/N: I haven't read the comics about the Tipani clan,this is all based off of fandom pages I've read so some things might not be completely accurate to the Tipani clan
You let go and approached the Meer Deer with quick steps that developed into a light jog.
It writhed on the ground to which you kneeled,gentle hands caressing it's head. "Shh I know, I'm sorry" Taking out your blade you ended the creatures life shortly to end it's suffering. Your forehead pressed against it's own as you muttered a small prayer to eywa to bless this animals soul in the afterlife. "Thank you for your sacrifice friend"
Neteyam had watched from the sidelines with gentle eyes and admiration. He had respect for your compassion yet fierce bravery.
With a grunt you lifted the body but it was larger than you expected. The man was quick to jump in and assist. "Allow me"
You clicked your tongue at his polite nature but accepted it nonetheless. You weren't stupid you knew there was no way you could carry the Meer Deer on your own.
~*~*~*~*~*~*
You were working on making new arrows for the clan,using the twine to carefully secure the blade to the feathered stick.
"Impressive" The voice had unfortunately started to become familiar to you.
"What do you want?" He had your sweet Uturu eating out of his hand along with every other girl in your clan yet he chose to spend time with a lowly hunter like you. It confused you. Was he just hovering near your presence to mock you? He was a constant reminder of everything you wish you could be.
"Nothing"
Your eyes narrowed,causing Neteyam's lips to quirk up. "Don't believe me?"
"Yes" you grumbled,averting your gaze. Your hands trembled and you let out an audible grunt as the twine became undone again. What was wrong with you? Usually this was an easy task for you. You blamed the laughter of your rival that was rather distracting.
Neteyam took a seat next to you by the firepit. He lifted his hands and they hoovered over your own but never too close to make contact. That just made it feel so much worse. You felt as though you were being disarmed with the most gentle hands. "May I?"
You told yourself you'd punch him,teach him a lesson about bothering you and stealing the love of your life but instead you say still and reluctantly nodded. You didn't understand why.
Hands rested on your own making you flinch at the first moment of contact. You felt as if you'd been struck by lightning,the wave of electricity travelling through your entire body from your worn fingertips till your toes.
You watched as your hands were patiently guided by the man. He was just as silent as you for a moment. "See? Isn't it easier that way?" He showed you how his people tied the knots for preparing their arrows and to your annoyance it was much easier to use this method when it came to making more ammo for your quiver.
"No. It's not" You pulled away from his hands, putting an appropriate distance between you two.
Despite your denial it didn't stop the smug smile on the man's face. He remained seated but didn't attempt to move closer again,allowing you to decide how far you two were seated from one another.
~*~*~*~*~*
"You rely too much on your defense. You must attack as well" you instructed as you departed with the young man. The chief has instructed you as a young successful warrior to reach him how your clan faught.
You were so focused on your little speech that you hadn't kept much of an eye on Neteyam's movements. He swept for your legs and you felt the breath being knocked out of you as you hit the ground.
"And you rely too much on your armour to defend you" he grinned crouching down to your form that lay in the damp soil.
With a scoff you grabbed him,using your body's momentum to pin him down in the dirt. "that's what it's for. It provided protection"
You frowned. There was an expression painted on Neteyam's face that you couldn't quite make out. It reminded you of how your baby brother looked at sweets before dinner. A yearning that was held back with restraint.
You cursed your wandering eyes,settling in the omitikaya's lips. They look so soft. You couldn't help but wonder how it felt like to kiss him.
In another beat you finally got up and put some distance between yourselves. You wished to understand the intense feelings that grew in the pit of your stomach
~*~*~"~*~*~*~*~*
The art of dance was a very romantic and important part of your clan's culture. The respected musicians strung their instruments and their voices created beautiful melodies as crowds of blue bodies danced with one another.
You saw the Jake Sully dance lovingly with his wife. It would be an endearing sight if you weren't all alone. The one girl you wanted to dance with was engaged to someone else so instead you opted to sulk and hand out wooden bowls of refreshing spring water mixed with fresh berries that made for a sweet drink.
An outstretched hand made it's way to your line of vision. You grumbled at the sight of Neteyam. "Came to gloat?"
Your question elicited an amused huff from him. "Actually I was going to ask you to dance"
You were frozen in stone. It was as if your head was underwater. You hadn't registered the the thud of the bowl to the ground as your grip went limp.
You came back to your senses when gentle hands took yours into their own. "Are you alright?"
Everyone stared. Dancing was a very romantic gesture. It didn't just mean I see you it meant I want you in the most natural way possible. It was improper for a bonded Na'vi to dance with someone that was not their mate. Neteyam might not be bonded to Uturu yet but their engagement made it pretty clear of what the future held.
You pulled away from his grip. "Show some respect" you glanced in Uturu's direction before storming off to the comfort of the forest,ignoring the man when he called out your name.
"I'm sorry" A heaving Neteyam showed himself eventually,tired from running after you. "It was not my intention to show you or your people any disrespect"
You raised an eyebrow at his response. He sounded so sincere and there was a sudden desperation in his eyes but you couldn't quite fathom why. "I don't need an apology. You should be apologising to your mate" you spoke more calmly this time but the venom on your voice remains.
He sighed and took a step forward, careful not to crowd you. "Uturu is not my mate and she will never be. We both agreed to tell our parents that we'd turn down the offer. She is not interested in me and neither am I to her" You'd think he was lying but how could you when his voice had such raw emotion.
"Oh. I see."
Another step closer. You felt overwhelmed by his presence so close to you but you made no means to step away. "Are you sure your parents will allow you to choose your own mate?"
His loving expression morphed into a more bittersweet one. "My mother married for love. I can only hope that she can convince my father to want the same for me"
You listened intently, subconsciously counting the bioluminescent markings on his face. They looked like stars. It's not something unfamiliar to you yet you thought that they looked so pretty on Neteyam. Maybe that's why you didn't move when he reached out his hand,letting it hover near your cheek. It was a request that he was urgently waiting for you to accept. You placed a hesitant hand on his cheek,your thumb caressing the markings on his face,allowing him to do the same.
"Is that what you want? To marry for love?" You asked,your gaze fixed on his lips which didn't go unnoticed by the taller man.
A small smile formed on his lips. "What I want is you"
The direct response caught you off guard and your gentle caresses came to a halt. It was at this moment that you had not been watching a close eye on Neteyam out of hatred but something completely and entirely different.
He leaned in his lips so close to yours but not touching. His hand moved down to your shoulder and you felt his grip tighten as if he was willing every ounce of restraint in his body to hold back,allowing you to take the lead. Unlike him you wasted no time your lips making contact with his.
The stars shone brighter than the sun itself and for once you didn't feel truly seen.
Hey I loooove your smutty tlw Drabbles. Would you ever write a smutty one shot with collie Parker and f!reader! ❤️
would i do a collie parker oneshot are you KIDDING ME?!
back seat loving. → collie parker x f!reader.
⤷ summ. it’s hard to get a place that’s truly all to yourself. if that place has to be a car, so be it.
⤷ tags. car sex, semi-public sex, protected sex (collie is a smart man), oral sex (m. receiving), fingering (f. receiving), p in v, no beta we die like men
⤷ w/c. 2.1k
⤷ a/n. thank u anon for ur request. we love collie parker in this family. I’m still working out collie’s personality for stuff like this, since all i have to go off of is the movie and (very little) of the book. obv his scenes don’t lend themselves much to sexuality, except the fact that joshua odjick is finer than a mf. (also i haven’t written smut in od long, so…bear w me yall ㅠwㅠ )
This beat up, shitty truck smells like him. Sure, it smells like cracked leather and sheet metal and his father’s cig habit. But it smells like him, too. Maybe it’s just the fact that you’re sitting in his lap, lips on his and hands in his hair, but that soft, masculine smell seems to permeate every inch of the cab.
Collie opens his legs a bit wider, letting you reposition yourself on his lap. You can feel him through his jeans, hard against the inside of your thigh. He seems to be in no rush to relieve any of the pressure.
You break the kiss for a second, catching your breath and tucking his flyaways behind his ear. He grins at you and you falter a bit. That stupid grin. It doesn’t matter how hot and intimidating Collie is, that stupid grin is so disarming.
“What?” He whispers, his large hand gently squeezing your thigh. “I do something?”
You shake your head.
“Didn’t think so. C’mere,” he pops his hips up, knocking you into him.
This kiss is hungrier than the last, his hands roaming all over your back and thighs. The feeling of your soft body through your clothes is driving him crazy.
His tongue invades your mouth and you sigh, letting the kiss deepen even further. His hand is up inside your shirt, thumb brushing over your nipple. He gropes your tit, sighing happily into the kiss. Both hands inside your shirt, running over your chest and back.
Your kisses travel away from his mouth. When your lips meet his neck he sighs, tilting up against the window to give you better access. Hickeys blossom across his tanned skin, sun-kissed red falling down his collar like watercolor.
He loses his tank and a fresh wave of lust washes over you. Hard, un-cut muscle littered with leftover summer freckles. He’s so beautiful. Every time he strips it’s like seeing him for the first time.
Each kiss, each bite, each hickey fills your head with him. With his scent, with the sound of his sighing, with everything. He’s overwhelming and you haven’t even got him out of his jeans yet.
The kisses trail down to the hair on his stomach, down to the waistband of his jeans. He unbuckles his belt for you, taking a moment to run his hand over the top of your head. You look up at him and there’s this faraway look in his eyes. He’s looking at you, yes, but his mind isn’t in this car. Isn’t in Sioux Falls, isn’t in South Dakota, isn’t in the country. Maybe not even on Earth anymore. You’ve become something else entirely.
It makes you nervous. He juggles tenderness and raw sex appeal in such an infuriating way. Maybe one day you’ll learn to handle it. Not today, though. Today it’s driving you insane.
You get his pants and boxers off, his hard cock standing in front of your face.
“You just gonna look at it?” He chuckles. He grabs you by your hair and pushes your head down towards it. “C’mon, baby, I know you know what to do. Don’t get all stupid on me now,”
“Don’t piss me off,” you smile.
You take him into your mouth and sighs deeply, hand still resting on your head. Something tense in his back loosens as he focuses on the feeling of your mouth around him. Your lips, your tongue, your throat. You’re not the only one getting drunk on pleasure here .
“There you go… you’re so good for me,” he sighs.
Your body buzzes with heat as you bob your head over and over again. Spit drips past your lips and on to your fingers, the salty taste of precum permeating your mouth. It’s not the most comfortable thing in the world, sucking him off in the back seat of a car. But the sighs rolling past his lips, his cock twitching in your mouth, his big hand on your head, it’s all worth it. You can feel dampness pooling in your panties, the dull throbbing of your cunt an ever-present reminder of just how desperate for him you are.
You zone out on it, sucking and licking him as he pops his hips up into your throat. The gagging, the hypersalivation, the tears pricking the corners of your eyes. None of it bothers you. Quite the opposite. Your panties are starting to get uncomfortable from the stickiness. After a particularly bad gag, though, Collie decides to pull out of your throat. He doesn’t wanna hurt you too bad.
He stares at you for a moment. It’s a pretty picture.
His cock is aching, fully erect and throbbing. Slick with spit, the head flushed a deep red. It’s coated in precum and spit, the pearly strings connected to your swollen lips. Fuck, that look on your face… cheekbones streaked with tears, cheeks flushed, eyes all hazy and fucked out. He hasn’t even touched you yet and you already look like this because of him. For him. His dick twitches.
God, if he looks at you too long he might just cum right here.
He needs to be inside you. Right fucking now.
“Come up here, baby, c’mere,” he says a little breathlessly. You climb back into his lap and he kisses you, pushing your jeans down your legs as he does. You kick them off and his hands have already gotten inside your underwear. You sigh into the kiss as his feather-light touches skirt around your clit and entrance, taking his time before doing anything.
“This wet from sucking me off?” He teases, pulling back from the kiss. “You’re fucking obsessed with me,”
“You’re so annoying–” you whine as one of his fingers pushes into you. You arch your body a bit, trying to give him a better angle. He grins that stupid grin again.
“Yeah?” He muses. “Am I, now?”
“Mhm,” you nod as firmly as possible. It’s no use, though. Collie’s always been good with his hands.
You put your head on his shoulder, almost hiding in his hair. It smells like conditioner and him. It’s good.
“Gotta get this ready for me, yeah?” He murmurs, the lewd sounds of your pussy filling the car. “Can’t have my baby getting hurt,”
He adds another finger and you keen, burrowing further into his neck.
“Mmmm, Collie…”
“What?” He whispers. You just whine back. He chuckles.
“Mm, I see,” he nods. “Thanks for telling me,”
His fingers reach deeper, curling deliciously around those spots inside you that make your body go limp. His thumb finds your clit as he fingers you, the dual pleasure forcing your mind blank way too fast.
“Feels…”
“Feels what, baby?”
“Good… feels s’good…”
He just kisses your shoulder. He nips at it slightly, giggling at the way you shiver.
“Want you to put it in…” you murmur.
“Yeah? How bad?”
You pout. You hate begging. It’s embarrassing.
“I asked: how bad?” He emphasizes.
“I jus’-- just put it in, please. I want it so bad I want you to fuck me so bad please. I’m not good at begging, Collie, you know that. Be nice to me… I jus’ wan’ you to put it in please just fuck me…”
As you beg, Collie’s busy rummaging through a bag in the back seat. Collie Parker is a lot of things, and “stupid” is not one of them. The pathetic words spilling past your lips make his dick twitch.
“Say something!” You almost sob. You’ve lost his fingers now, so you’re just begging for cock and painfully empty. It sucks. “Collie please,”
“Okay okay I hear you. You don’t gotta beg no more,” he says, tearing the condom open. “Just lemme put this shit on, okay?”
You whine impatiently.
“I could just put it in raw-”
“No!” You whine. “No no no don’t,”
“Then wait a second for me, yeah?” He pats the back of your head, planting a kiss on your neck before turning his attention back to his cock.
The couple seconds it takes to put the condom on feels like a century.
He runs the head of his cock through your folds, gathering the slick wetness that’s gathered and stroking it over his length. He doesn’t need to announce anything, he just positions his cock at your entrance before pushing inside of you.
The moan that spills past your lips is borderline pornographic. He’s not exactly quiet himself. He tries to be, but as he starts moving inside of you, breathy moans and sighs roll past his lips like water.
His dick is big. It makes sense– he’s a big guy. And it’s addictive. The stretch you feel every time he puts it in, the way the curve strokes past your sweet spot effortlessly. It’s magical. He bounces you up and down on his lap, moaning softly as his skin slaps against yours.
“You’re so good… taking me so good like this. That feel good, baby? You feel good?” He asks. You murmur something that sounds like yes. “Yeah I bet,”
His cock bullies against your g-spot as you ride him, heartbeats of pleasure bursting through your body. His fingers finger your clit again and something in my find breaks. A small sound, similar to a sob, bubbles past your lips as your head starts floating up, up and away.
Collie grins.
“You’re so fucking pretty…” And you are. If it was a miracle he didn’t cum during the blowjob, it’s diving intervention now. You look like a painting, like music come to life, like a walking fantasy. You tank staps falling down your shoulders, the extra volume in your hair, the part of your pouty lips as you pant and whine. The shudder of your body, the faint hickeys he left on your neck earlier in the day. Every sound he fucks out of you, every moment you swallow your spit back down, every time you have to take a “break” and go back to hiding in his hair. Everything is perfect. You’re perfect. You two together are perfect. He wouldn’t trade this moment for the world.
He’s pulled out of his thoughts by a sharp shoot of pleasure through his balls and shaft. Fuck he’s getting close.
He doesn’t normally cum this fast, but there must be something about today. Shit… He shakes his head, trying to push the thought aside.
“You okay?” You slur. The shake had brushed past your head.
“Yeah…” he pants. “Fuck– I’m more than okay, baby. I’m so fucking good… shit…” He kisses your neck. “Don’t worry about nothin’, yeah? Just be good f’me ‘n take it,”
“Yessir…” you slur. He has the audacity to laugh.
“You’re a fucking gem, yknow that?”
But another clench of pleasure shoots through him and the bravado’s gone.
You’re so out of it you don’t realize how close you are to cumming until you’re almost there. His fingers go back to teasing your clit and you make that little sobbing noise again, whining and whimpering as he thrusts up into you harder and harder.
“Collie ‘m g’na cum…” you murmur.
“You’re gonna cum?”
You nod.
“You can cum, baby, it’s okay,”
A couple seconds later your climax overtakes you, the hot and heavy rush filling your body in under a second. Fuck it’s so good. It’s too good. Tears well up in your eyes and the pleasure wracks over you in waves, hitting you over and over again. He fucks you through your orgasm, biting the inside of his cheek as your arousal floods past his cock, hot and slick.
“Fuck I’m gonna cum… you gonna be good f’me ‘n make me cum, too?”
“Mhm, mhm,” you nod frantically.
“Good girl– fucking Christ…”
It takes another two minutes for him to finally finish. When he does he slams his hips up into yours, holding your tight like he’s trying to pump you full of him. You both know he can’t, but it won’t stop him from trying. His nose is in your shoulder, open mouth pressing lazy kisses to your collarbone once again.
He holds you like that, trying to massage away the shaking in your legs. He pulls out as he feels himself starting to go soft, but he makes no effort to actually move.
“You feelin’ okay,” he asks, voice vibrating through your skin.
“Yeah…” you pant. “I’m okay…”
“Mmm,”
You sit up slowly and he smiles, pressing a kiss to your forehead.
☆ ★ ☆
It doesn’t smell like him outside the truck, but at least it doesn’t smell like sex. He looks good, shirtless in the orange light.
Clothes back on, you join him in the bed of his truck. He puts an arm around you instinctively, pulling you in to kiss the top of your head.
“Want me to take you home?”
“In a minute,” you say, patting his thigh.
Your eyes stay trained on Sioux Falls. It’s pretty at sunset.
❝ Every moment, my heart says to me, you are its only desire. ❞
So'lek te Elusa Kiro'itan x Sarentu!ftm!reader | p*rn with some plot, NSFW, a sprinkle of angst | reader has not had top surgery but significant bottom growth | sub. bttm. reader | wc: 4.4k
warnings: death of an animal, light mention of gore/violence, hunting, being stalked (playfully), mentions of genocide & murder, family planning/discussions of pregnancy (MPREG/T-MPREG), fingering, unprotected sex, alien biology, AFAB terminology (clit referred to as cock/dick/member. terms like cunt are used)
authors note: Every time this man speaks to me in the game, I twirl my hair in my fingers and sigh dreamily.
Listening to ▸Maula Mere Maula by Roop Kumar Rathod
*YN’s backstory is taken from the Avatar: Frontiers of Pandora game.
This was posted earlier on my Patreon, we had an alien week of sorts! If you wanna be able to vote for the next theme of the week and get early access to the fics, consider joining!
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Its antennas twitched as its head was pointed towards the grass. The stream of water constantly caused the creature to lift her head, those lithe legs going taut, prepared to weave and jump away from predators. Further away, were younger yerik’s in the river, eager as their blunt teeth scraped lightly against the wet rocks near the banks for the softer moss.
This one was mature. She knew the dangers of being too out in the open, so she stuck closer to the foliage, even if there was no soft moss to keep her company. She kept watch, just like the others at the outer edge of the small herd.
The easier targets were obvious. They’d run senselessly, tripping over their graceful legs in panic and most likely rush deeper into the river at the first sign of danger. But their meat wouldn’t be as bountiful, and their teeth couldn’t be used in crafting.
You lifted your chest off the tree branch, curling your toes as you posed into a crouch and silently dropped onto the soft dirt. You freeze just as your prey does. Her ears go forward, flicking back and forth as her lips twitch. You wait for her to lower her head again before you stalk towards the herd. You exhale through your mouth, reaching backwards for your bow and nocking your arrow. You inhale sharply through your nose, your stomach sucked in from tension, and every muscle taut as you level the arrow her way.
Her herd flees as she shrieks. The youngsters followed the panicked calls of their elders, rushing away into the forests, and you exhale again. Slinging your bow across your chest, you rush to her side. She was beautiful, her skin tough, and her patterns striking. She stared up at you, groaning weakly as she tried to breathe, chest heaving. You place your hands over her operculum, feeling her life ebbing away. You unsheathe your dagger, kneeling over her as you give her a painless mercy.
“Oel ngati kameie, ma tsmukÚ, ulte ngaru seiyi irayo. Ngari hu Eywa salew tirea, tokx 'ì'awn slu Na'viyä hapxì.”
His voice floods through you. That warm baritone, his firm chest brushing against your shoulder blade as he tells you what those words — this prayer — meant. You whisper it to her, and she sighs just as her body goes limp. The forest does not go silent at this; the river continues to bubble over the rocks, and the insects flutter their wings into the air just as the plants creak and sway in the wind.
You hear a sound. Not a creak, or a flutter of wings. You lift your head, ears twitching as your eyes scan the horizon. The easier target was beneath you, having taken her last breath mere seconds ago. You’d be harder to kill, but not impossible. You narrow your eyes into the treelines, colours fading slightly as your nose tries to pick up on any distinct smells. Maybe the desperate lone nantang had stumbled in at the right time, or perhaps a pack of Tslikxyu tsawlak?
You hear the rough pads of skin over bark, and you lift your head, twirling your blade over your knuckles as your tail sways unsurely behind you.
A palulukan?
Your pupils shrink as you attempt to sift your hunter through the branches. You hastily sheath your dagger, reaching for your bow again when silence befalls your twitching ears. That is, until you hear those familiar footfalls. Instantly, your figure relaxes. You don’t drop your bow, but you lower it as you try to stifle a grin.
What was that one saying humans used? Speak of the Devil, and he will appear?
So’lek wasn’t a devil, not to those he deemed as comrades and friends, but he was surely as sneaky as one.
You cautiously kneel again, pretending to be on alert as you deftly take what you need from your downed prey. Her fatty meat, her exquisite teeth, her patterned skin. It takes some time, but you know your way around these woods. You had made sure no RDA facilities around here were still functioning, your arrow spearing through their puny bodies as you destroyed their oil pumping machines that polluted the area. The reason this herd of yerik’s had been grazing here again was because the rivers were no longer poisoned, and their food was no longer spoiled.
You wouldn’t need to worry about the carnivorous creatures here either. You wouldn’t be hunted when he was keeping watch over you.
You gather what you can from your kill. Her fatty meat was stored in the woven basket. You wiped your sweat off your brow while you worked on removing the parts you needed, focusing on her teeth and hooves, hoping to ask some favours from the nearby clans on new pieces you needed. You heard the forest creatures move around you, but they didn’t draw closer. Time ticks on, so you make haste. You didn’t want to hug around fresh meat through the forest after the eclipse — you’d be in too much trouble.
You finished with a grunt, rolling your shoulders as you looked over your work. There’d be enough scraps for any desperate predators to fill up on if they needed. You washed your hands off at the river, ear flicking back as the wind carried an approving hum from the trees. You grinned at the rippling reflection of yourself, shaking your head slightly at his cheekiness.
Resistance Headquarters was upstream, sitting comfortably hidden by the tall trees and between two waterfalls. An easier way to get there would be a quick call to your ikran, but there’d be no fun in that. You glance over your shoulder, lashes brushing over your cheeks as you contemplate your next move.
So’lek stands as you do. From his perch, he can make an easy guess about where you intend to move next. One graceful leg stepping and the next following, the water still clinging to your arms trailing down the toned shape, your kuru braid hypnotizingly swaying with every movement. You look at him – well, not really, though nearly. He doesn’t freeze even when your gaze scans through the dense branches of the tree where he was hiding, tail gently swishing around in adoration as he takes in your focused expression.
Can you see him? Do you notice his yellow eyes peeking through the shades, or do you pass it off as sunlight making patterns on the great barks?
So’lek’s ear flicks when you blink slowly. Eyelids barely closing with the corners of your lips curling up, your fangs poking through, gently poking your lower lip.
When you move, he follows. A trusty shadow, moving through the trees with ease. His years of being a nomad, training from various clans as he moved through the grief of his clan’s demise, and working through his plans of vengeance, though painful, taught him many lessons. So’lek flattens his palms onto the edge of a branch, balancing himself as he elegantly avoids the nests of yoten eggs.
He drops down, barely making a sound as he follows the sight of you through the slits of the trees. The stripes on you were remarkable, the braid pattern you had your hair in, the craftsmanship of your outfit pieces, and So’lek’s heart squeezed as he caught sight of your bow. He’d made that for you, painstakingly looking for materials as he prepared to ask for your time for a hunt in his head. A date, as the Sky People had told him, a courting tradition they did, something he hoped you’d be more familiar with.
He knew you still used it, but the sight of it on you still made warmth flood through his entire body.
There’s a clearing a few steps ahead. It dips down, creating a short fall that provides cover if you ever find yourself in a firefight. You slip down, turning around and walking backwards. Further and further into the clearing, your vision bounces from one side to the other as you pluck your bow from your person and crouch to place it down along with your basket.
You hold your breath as you hear the leaves rustling, trying to differentiate all the sounds the forest makes. It should be easy for you, but So’lek had been the one to teach you how to hunt. He’s had a teeny bit more experience, something talent can’t quite replace, but that wasn’t to say that you were an inadequate student.
Perhaps a bit distracted, So’lek thought as he crept up behind you. His hand grabs at the base of your tail, and you yelp as you jump into the air. You bend your knees, teeth baring themselves in a laugh as your ears flatten against your head. So’lek chuffs in amusement, the pose was almost familiar to him. It was more human-like, but he couldn’t blame you for that. He instead crouches and hisses at you, his tail flicking in the air.
It’s a marvel to you every time he displays the softer sides of himself to you. So’lek wasn’t someone who people would describe as easy-going. He wasn’t intense, not outwardly, but you could tell he was someone who’d been through a lot. To see him like this, playful and open, made you beam.
“You let your guard down, ma yawnetu,” So’lek straightens up after a bit. His cheeks still lifted in a grin. “With us being so close to headquarters, that’s a bit careless,” he continues.
“Oh, I let my guard down?” Your tone makes So’lek raise a brow. The expression wiped off his face when you lunged for his middle. He tries to dig in his heels, but it still kicks you off balance. So’lek wraps his arms around you as you both fall. You roll onto the grass, tumbling around like little kids as you try to use the momentum to get on top of him. He is not that easy to pin down, something he makes abundantly clear as he wrestles you to the ground. You squeal, bursting into laughter as he traces your sides with a cocky grin. You squirm around, locking your legs behind him as you twist again.
You rush ahead of him, and So’lek rolls onto his stomach and sprints after you.
It feels so light in these moments. Even with your heart pounding against your ribcage and your feet crashing onto the ground, you felt so free as you chased each other. So’lek is quick on his feet, nearly gathering you into his arms a couple of times. But you were used to rushing through the clearings, zig-zagging and evading his attempts.
So’lek was reminded of a simpler time, back before the Sky People had come down from the stars, back when his mother would still scold him for returning home with scrapes on him from play fighting too much. You try to sink into the memory of a game of tag. It was different from his own; there was no mighty or infinite room to run in, but there was your sister and what was left of your clan members in a grey room with Alma watching over as she explained Earth games to all of you. In a way, this game of tag, now with two overgrown adults, should look silly, but it was healing for both of you.
So’lek finally wraps his arms around you, lifting you into the air as you are pinned to his chest. He presses his face to your nape, and you feel his rapid breathing against your skin. His palm presses flat against your chest, and he counts every beat of your heart. Syncing them together as he gives you a gentle squeeze, your back slotting against his chest like a missing puzzle piece. You toss your head back, peeking up at him with your cheeks warm. He had a few pieces of grass stuck in his hair, all thanks to you, and you chuckled at him.
“You are trouble,” he grunts out.
“Does that mean you don’t enjoy my presence?”
At once, he frowns. You squeeze your eyes shut in delight, and he hisses softly at you. It was a chiding noise, something usually accompanied by various degrees of intensity. So’lek was warm with his; his lips barely curled as he gave you a final squeeze before untethering you from him.
“You put words into my mouth,” So’lek brushes a hand over your head, plucking glades of grass from your hair. You lean forward, catching him off guard until your nose brushes over his own. You press your foreheads together, breathing him in as the tip of your nose brushes over his cheek. His tail curls in delight. So’lek presses against you, his eagerness simmering to the top as he cups your warm face in his hands. The callouses on his palm create the softest noise against your skin.
“Forgive me, ma So’lek,” You preen out. He rumbles his approval, scenting you as he brushes his nose against your cheeks, chin bumping against yours, and finally landing his lips over yours. You reciprocate, pouting your lips and wrapping your arms around his neck. His thumb brushes against the Sarentu mark on your cheek, and So’lek pulls away just enough so he can gaze down at you.
“What pains you?” You cup a hand over his, pinching your brows as he sighs. He shakes his head, prompting you to speak again, but he speaks first. “What always pains me.”
You knew what he meant. The loss of his clan, of your clan, and whatever else the RDA had ripped from countless others. You think of your mother and sister, of the life you could have had if you weren’t taken from your clan. So’lek wished that things had been different; he always did if he lay awake at night and his thoughts got too loud in the silence. Lately, he thinks of the grief you went through. It was odd carrying another person’s pain, especially someone he cared so deeply for.
“If you linger on that thought for too long, you’ll get wrinkles.” Your voice brings him back to the present. Your lips are pursed as your thumbs brush over his cheeks, lightly pulling at his lips as your tail curls towards his own.
“It’s difficult not to. It frightens me — it frightens me to think about our future. I have so much to protect, and if one day,” He glances down at your exposed stomach and slides his hands down your sides, tenderly brushing his hand over it. Your brows raise in shock.
“You want children?”
So’lek’s ears flatten, his gaze kept downward as his tail curls in a flustered manner.
“You hadn’t mentioned this before.” You pinch his chin between your thumb to level your gaze. “I…I never thought I would want them. With all this war, and the Sky People’s return. I was so fueled with the shadows of my vengeance before this, before you.”
“I’m sorry, we never had this discussion before,” So’lek shakes his head, and you blink rapidly as he withdraws his hands from you.
“I can’t comfort you, So’lek.” You said, keeping your tone soft as you catch the way the fading sunlight against his skin, making his yellow glow brighter than any star or flower you’d ever seen. When the light hits them, it’s like it catches it, turning it into pools of pure gold. “We both know how chaotic life can get, I mean, out of everyone else.”
It elicits a dry laugh from So’lek. You step away from him, your touch lingering over his heart as you gesture to your basket and bow, walking towards it while he follows.
“But we’ve made it this far. I’ve seen so much pain, so much hatred. But, you’ve also shown me what it feels like to hunt, to provide, to craft, to heal, to love. You made me fall in love with Pandora, you didn’t make me feel like I’m castaway from Eywa. Without you, So’lek, I…”
You grip onto the bow, feeling over the ridges and carvings he’d put into it. It wasn’t anything overly flashy; it was just like him. Practical, deadly, and it feels like home in your hands. You turn to him, and for a second, he has to remind himself to take a breath.
“You made me realise that I’m more than what the RDA had told me I am. If it weren’t for your teachings, for your guidance, I would be lost.”
“You would not,” he cut in firmly. Sweeping his hand in front of him, as though cutting through air while his brows furrowed, “Eywa would have shown you who you are. With or without me.”
“Then I’m glad that it was with you. Even through war, even through pain, it’s you that my heart desires. I See you, So’lek.” His eyes widen at your confession. He says your name like a prayer, wanting and adoring.
“Having a family with you would be a great joy.” You place a hand over your stomach, and So’lek reaches forward, his thumb rubbing over your knuckles.
There were a few spots of privacy the forest provided if one knew their way around. Somewhere to keep away from watchful eyes, or an unsuspecting resistance member trying to take flora samples. So’lek and you ducked into the opening of a hidden cave, fingers threaded together as you both exchanged bashful grins at each other over his shoulder.
The plants within the cave glowed in hues of greens and purples, almost as though greeting both of you. Solek’s bioluminescent dots greeted them in return, as did yours. It went deep, having a body of water underneath a particularly vein-covered ledge, with an opening at the top that trickled down rainwater from the tips of stalactites. You drop your basket near the chillier corners, knowing it will keep the food fresh enough. If not, you could make a fire in here and roast the meat.
It wasn’t as though this was the first time that this had happened.
Could either of you be blamed? It was tough to be alone at headquarters, and when you weren’t there, it would most likely be because you’d been pulled to do missions or help nearby clans.
“It will rain soon,” he squints up at the skylight, shuddering slightly as a chill goes through him. You nod, placing your brow in the same corner. “I’ll make a fire then.”
“Let me,” he motions for you to stay put on the woven carpet.
The fire sparks just as the heavy clouds release the rain. You lean forward, elbows perched onto your knees, and watch as the heavy raindrops splatter on the ground. You feel the warmth of the fire, the crackling of the wood, and finally So’lek’s finger brushing over the curve of your ear.
He kisses over the mark of the Sarentu on your cheek, his eyes half-lidded as he brushes his thumb over your jaw. You turn to him, your hand dropping down as he locks lips with you. So’lek is careful, moving his lips in tandem with yours in a passionate dance. You gasp softly as he nibbles on your lower lip, but don’t stop him.
His hand brushes past your nape, and you shudder as he briefly nudges at your kuru. So’lek does not apologise for this; he keeps his grip on you and guides you until you’re laid on your back. The dog tags of the RDA soldiers he’d killed clinked together above you.
“I’m beginning to think you’re a sore loser,” You murmur. He kisses your chin, then your neck, and he’s careful as he slips his hands up your top. The bullet grazes, the shrapnel pieces, the scars you’d gotten from fighting — he strokes over them like they were precious, like he was thankful that despite everything, you came back with only scars. What was important was that you came back.
“Why is that?” You widen your legs, and he settles between them as he continues to worship your body. You suck in a breath as he brushes over your chest, but eventually relax under his touch.
“You so desperately wish to pin me down. Even after we finished playing tag.” So’lek laughs at this, his face instantly lighting up at his toothy grin. He looked so much younger in these moments, so free. The shadows cast on the cave walls sharpen and soften the edges of So’lek’s face, and when he leans down, it causes that phenomenon again. The sun in his eyes, flames burning brightly in that gaze.
So’lek scents you earnestly. You slip your eyes closed, letting him do as he pleases. It was an intimate act that mates often did in private, nosing affectionately over one’s cheek or brushing your chin over your head. The humans of the resistance likened it to their Earth cats, something that made So’lek scrunch his nose at. But you could see the resemblance at times, especially after seeing a video of those cat creatures.
“Ma yawnetu,” his voice drips with need.
“Ma So’lek,” you reply with the same reverence.
“May I?” His fingers danced on the outer edge of your thighs. You nod up at him, watching him watching you as he teased at the slit of your private parts. You inhaled sharply, feeling his fingers teasing your entrance, coaxing your body to reveal itself. The Na’Vi had evolved to protect itself from certain dangers, admittedly, that meant your privates couldn’t be exposed.
The Na’Vi had sheaths. A slit between the legs that, once stimulated enough, reveals itself. So’lek says your name, groaning softly as he feels your cunt’s wetness. You gasp as he brushes against your swollen dick, his thumb moving in circles and speeding up the process to make you bloom for him.
“So’lek,” you whimper. The tip of your tail swishes around as you feel him, then slips a finger inside of you. The thunder rumbles ahead, life moving all around you, and yet all So’lek can focus on is you.
He licks the sweat away from your neck, once again taking the opportunity to press your foreheads together. He pushes his finger further in, and your back arches. You reach to grip his bicep, mewling as he begins to thrust in and out.
“Does that feel good, muntxatan?” That deep baritone, you shuddered underneath him. So’lek smiles in that cocky way that makes your stomach flutter. You huff, trying to respond to him, but the second your mouth opens, he slips another finger inside. Your mouth hangs open, a choked-out gasp barely escaping you.
“Don’t tease,” You bite out. His eyes soften, and his apology is in the form of a deep kiss.
You peek between his legs and curl your leg. Your knee bumps into his crotch, and So’lek groans. His cockhead had peeked through his slit, leaking and warm as you pressed your knee further.
“Stop that,” he bites out, though no real venom is laced within his tone.
You move to sit, and he follows your lead. His fingers slipping out of you. He kneels in front of you, watching you watching him as you undo his waist cloth. You cup his dick, thumbing at his head. He squeezes his eyes shut, more and more of his shaft revealing itself. You continue to coax it out, pressing kisses to his face as you whisper praises to him.
It fills out your palm, twitching needily as he pants. It’s thick, speckled in little glowing dots. You straddle So’lek, so he holds your waist. You line yourself up and lower yourself onto him. Both of you moan, tails curling and ears flattening as you sink further down. He steadies you when you hiss, telling you to be patient as he strokes over your hips.
“Take your time, ma yawntu,” he grunts out.
You try to listen to him, but with the pleasure coursing through you, it proves to be a difficult task. You move your hips, whimpering, and his cock fills more of you. It was like you were meant to take him, of that you were sure.
The rain sheltered the noises you made from prying ears. The cave sang with you, your moans echoing through as So’lek eventually thrusted up into you. Your skin glowed with sweat, both from the fire and the extraneous activity you were doing. You held onto his shoulders, working your thighs out as you bounced on his cock. So’lek hisses through his teeth, eyes going heavy with pleasure.
He put you on your hands and knees, kissing up your spine as he teased the base of your tail. It whipped around, smacking him on his face. So’lek chuckles, watching as you melt onto your elbows, presenting your eager cunt to him.
“You should know better than to tempt me,” So’lek warns. You simply curl your tail under his chin.
So’lek pushes into you. His hips were strong and unrelenting as he pounded into you. His cock spearing you open, again and again, as he knocked the air out of you. Despite this, he maintains his gentle nature in the form of his fingers threading through yours. The way he kisses your neck, praising your handsomeness, your strength for taking him so well.
Sweetly calling out for you, gasping as though begging mercy from you when you clench down onto him. You warn him as your climax draws close, and So’lek holds you close. He slams his face to the junction of your neck and shoulder, the sound of skin smacking skin reverberating through until he gives one last thrust.
You groan as you cum around his dick, mewling when his cum fills your insides. You feel your thighs twitching, threatening to crumble into a pile on the carpet. So’lek breathes against you, rubbing patterns onto your hips as he tries to collect himself.
You make a noise of confusion as he grinds in again.
“May I…may we, continue?” he asks, bashful but wanting.
The fire had nothing but embers the next morning. Crackling faintly as the wood falls into itself. So’lek paid it no mind as he gazed down at you. It’d done its job at keeping you warm, and right before the sun rose, it cooked through the meat perfectly. So’lek glanced up at the skylight, making note of the perfect weather today would bring after a night of heavy rain.
You stirred beside him, and he carefully brushed a few locks of hair away from your face. When your eyes flutter open, So’lek could not contain himself. He presses another kiss to your face, as though last night were not enough.
“Kaltxi, ma yawntu.”
“Kaltxi, ma So’lek.”
Glossary
Yerik = hexapede, a land herbivore that resides in various biomes of Pandora.
“Oel ngati kameie, ma tsmukÚ, ulte ngaru seiyi irayo. Ngari hu Eywa salew tirea, tokx 'ì'awn slu Na'viyä hapxì.” =” I see you, sister, and thank you. May Eywa be with you, I return your spirit”
Nantang = viperwolf, is a hyena/wolf-like carnivore.
Tslikxyu tsawlak = scarab crawler, a small but stocky creature, its body is protected by a thick, reptilian skin, and a prominent shell. Large, but lightweight, this sturdy shell covers most of the body.
Palulukan = thanator, is a carnivorous hexapedal animal native to the forests of Pandora.
Ikran = banshee, are large dragon-like aerial predators that are native to Pandora. They can be found roosting on the various cliff sides of the Hallelujah Mountains.
Kuru = queue, is an appendage that is part of many species' anatomy on Pandora, including the Na'vi. Most Pandoran life forms possess one or two queues. When a creature connects these tendrils with those of another being, it enables mental communication between the two entities and the sharing of information, including memories, emotions, and sensory input.
Yoten eggs = The yoten is a colourful reptilian creature that lives in the Kinglor Forest. Able to climb trees much like a chameleon, it curls up into a ball when threatened and rolls rapidly away using its closely arranged back scales for friction.
ma yawnetu/ma yawntu = my love
ma (name) = my (name) (example: ma so’lek = my so’lek)
Sarentu = The Sarentu clan were a nomadic clan of Na'vi. A highly respected clan, famous for its outstanding storytellers, singers and stories. They were known for being diplomats who could resolve conflicts and bring peace, both within and between clans.
Muntxatan = male spouse/husband.
Kaltxi = a greeting, it can be used as good morning.
ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ɴᴇᴛᴇʏᴀᴍ ᴛᴇ ꜱᴜʟɪ ᴛꜱʏᴇʏᴋ'ɪᴛᴀɴ x ꜰᴇᴍ! ᴀʏ'ᴀᴍʜᴜʟ! ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ
Tw: !!MOVIE SPOILERS!! Death, murder, angst, blood, mourning, reader becomes leader at the young age.
A/N: First look to my new series based on the new movie. I know it's short but I hope you like it.
Masterlist
You were still young when you met Varang. You were 10 and she was 15. She had lost most of her clan, including her parents. Your parents, the Olo'eyktan and the Tsahìk of the Ay'Amhul clan. The people who lived in the island of the volcanos and fire. Your parents had taken Varang and her people into the clan. To help them heal. It was hard, seeing their pain. You could feel their suffering. You all grieved with them, it was hard losing your parents, most of your people, your home. Your mother and father made sure that from that day forward, Varang and her people would be like your brothers and sisters.
As time went on, during the past year, they quickly adapted into your people's ways. Despite being the same, you were very different. But that didn't stop them for adapting. You dressed like you, danced like you, sang like you, ate the same food as you and even spoke the same secret language as you. They were your equals and they must be treated a such. After all. You were all children of Eywa.
But you began to notice things, how Varang lived with such hatred. You understood that she lost her home and people, but you noticed very concerning patterns. How she'd burn herself in the fire, almost as if she was trying to feel something. Or when it came to the sacrifice rituals you did for a good harvest how she watched with such awe that it scared you watching her smile watching how a sacrifice was made. It concerned you deeply.
You'd bring this up with to your mother, but she'd argue that Varang was broken and needed time to heal. Everyone grieves in different ways. She'd say. As much as you wanted to believe your mother, you couldn't just let that slide. Varang was very concerning. They'd be times she'd scare you with her smile and eyes. And you knew that she knew that you were growing scared. Perhaps that's what she wanted. For others to fear her like you were beginning to fear her.
Varang began to miss the rituals, her and the people of her clan. They began to miss the rituals and began to reject Eywa. You kept bringing this up with your parents, that Varang and her people's behavior was concerning and they had to do something or at least talk to her. But again, they continued to try and understand Varang, as well as her people. They were still grieving the loss of their home, it was more than obvious to question their faith. It was part of the mourning period. You didn't understand, why couldn't they just listen to your warnings.
Everything changed one day. Early in the morning, when you woke up, you knew something was wrong. You felt a goosebump go up your spine. Your feeling was conformed when you heard screaming from outside of your temple. Without a second thought, you ran outside, going down the stairs of the huge pyramid.
As you ran down the long flight of stairs. You saw a crowd forming at the bottom of them. You also saw Varang, covered in blood. All over her chest and stomach, making your blood run cold. When you finally reached the bottom, you saw others crying, looking away and mothers covering the eyes of her children. You pushed your way through, despite being told not to look, you wanted to see what happened. That was when time stopped for you. Your parents, both dead. With their throats slit open, but also their kurus cut off.
You walked over, falling to your knees as blood got onto your pale skin. You let out a shriek of pain. Covering your mouth as tears already began to form in your eyes. You couldn't believe it, you just couldn't believe it. Who'd do such a thing to your parents. You touched your mother's face, trying to see if she'd react. She didn't, she was still warm but no heart beat. Turning to your father, you did the same. He too was still warm and no pulse. You finally let out a scream of pain, seeing that your parents are dead. Murdered.
"Do not cry, Y/n." You heard Varang say, making you finally look at her. Covered in blood, your parents blood. Also holding their kurus, as if they were trophies. " You. You did this?" You finally asked, while still on your knees. "They needed to see that Eywa isn't here." Varang said, making the crowd of people gasp and hiss in horror by her claims. "You dare speak such, filth." You hissed at her, now in anger. "I speak the truth, Eywa is no more. She turned her back on me, on my people." Varang said, justifying her actions. "My people starved, cried for help. And where was she? Nowhere. She left us. Turned her back on us. Taking my people and home." She hissed.
"No, you weren't left alone. Eywa brought you to us. My mother and father took you in. They helped you and your people, and you procced to bite the hand that fed you!" You screamed. As your anger builds up. "I had to show them, Eywa is not here. If she were here. They'd still be alive and breathing. I was only showing them the truth. The truth they refuse to see." She argued. You wanted to grab her, scalp her and kill her like she did your parents. But you didn't.
Carefully, you got up, walking over to her. Everyone watched in silence, witnessing and wondering what you'll do next. Varang simply looked down at you. Almost hoping you'd understand her vision. Hoping you'd agree with her and understand her. You took a deep breath, smelling the blood that coated her skin. Your parents blood, it almost made you sick, but you stood your ground.
"From this day forward." You said, that made Varang smirk, believing she won. "The Mangkwan Clan is exiled from the Ay'Amhul Clan." You added, making Varang's smirk fall. "Take your people with you. Leave and never return, if you ever dare to return, you and your people be sacrificed to the All Mother Eywa." You finished, loud enough for everyone to hear. Varang stared at you for a moment, baring her eyes into yours. She could see the fire in you. She gave you a small grin. "This won't be the last time we meet. Tsahik" She claimed, almost sounding like an insult, making you snarl at her in anger. Making her laugh, along with her. Also making her people laugh with her.
She began to leave, taking her people with her. You instructed your soldiers to make sure they all left and to stay put just in case. You knew deep down she was right, you'll see her again for sure.
During the cremation ceremony. You kept it together, you had to keep it together. Others had offered to do the burning for you, but you refused. You had to do it yourself. You were the new Olo’eykte and Tsahìk now. It was your job to perform the ceremony, even if it killed you.
You were left to grieve as much as you needed, the elders were the ones to keep everything under control while you took your time. They'd be times were you just vanished from the village and stayed in the woods. As if, you were trying to find answers on why Varang would do such thing to the people who helped her. But you found no answers. Until you finally went to the spirit tree to talk to your parents to try and get answers from them.
When you connected your kuru to the bright vines of the tree, you entered. You saw your parents, talking amongst one another, almost as if nothing happened. It broke your heart, but you kept it together. "Mother, Father." You said, calling out to them. They turned to look at you, they smiled and got up from their spots, going over and hugging you. That was what did it, you started crying once you felt their warmth and tight embrace. "It's okay my child." Your mother said, trying to comfort you. "Crying helps you heal the soul." Your father added. After what felt like a while, you pulled away and face them.
"What Varang did, was wrong." You said. "We know my child." Your mother said, sadly. "We apologize for not listening to you. You were right, it was us who were wrong" Your mother said. "We only wanted to help them." Your father added. "I understand, but what can I do. I am know Tsahik and Olo’eykte. I don't know what to do." You said, almost scared. "I know my child." Your mother said, soothing you. "I wish you can continue be a child, but now, your people need you. You will know how to lead them." You mother explained. "Listen to me my child. What Varang said is not true. Eywa will provide, she has a path for everyone. That includes you." She added. "But Varang, she said she'd be back. That we'll meet again, what shall I do?" You asked, worried about Varang's last words to you.
They both gave you a sad look, they also knew that Varang was right. She will comeback. "With time, you will know what to do. You are strong. Remember to never fear. Eywa will provide the power that you need. You'll see the sign and that is when you'll know." You mother said with comfort. "My child, we may not be with you physically, but we will always be here for you. And the people." Your father added, also trying to sooth you from your worries. "There is still time." They both added at the end. You finally detached your kuru off the vine. You got the answer that you needed.
That same night, you were crowned both Tsahik and Olo’eykte. Despite only being 11 years old. You knew that it was your time to be the leader of the your people. They needed you and you needed them. You had more than enough time to figure out what you will do when Varang and her clan returned. No matter how much hate you had, you weren't going to let that hate rule your life and judgement. You weren't going to become like Varang, you wish to see yourself dead, than end up rotten like her.
The forest still hums. The sky still glows. Love still feels unbreakable.
You remember laughter beneath the trees, hands linked midair, promises whispered like they could never be broken. In a world that looks whole from the outside, you cling to moments that feel untouched by time.
Warnings: Fluff, ANGST, emotional hurt/comfort, grief, mourning, major character death, (let me know if I forgot anything).
Word Count: 2.1k
Masterlist
The forest hums around you, alive, breathing, watching.
Sunlight filters through the canopy in soft ribbons of gold, catching on the curve of Neteyam’s smile as he reaches for your hand. His fingers are warm, familiar, fitting into yours like they were shaped for this alone. The touch settles something deep in your chest, a quiet certainty that this, him, you, the forest, is exactly how the world is meant to be.
“Come on,” he says, laughter threading through his voice. “You’re slower today.”
“I am not,” you protest, even as your steps stumble over roots and fallen leaves. He laughs again, softer this time, glancing over his shoulder with that infuriatingly fond look he always gives you, like he knows you’ll follow no matter how far he runs.
Then he’s gone, bounding ahead with easy grace, blue skin flashing between the trees.
“Neteyam!” you call, laughing as you chase him. “That’s not fair!”
You hear his laugh echo back to you, warm and teasing. “Then catch me!”
You run until your lungs burn and your legs ache, until the forest opens up and you nearly collide with him as he stops short. He turns just in time to catch you, hands gripping your arms to steady you as you laugh breathlessly against his chest.
“There,” he says, smug. “You caught me.”
“Only because you wanted me to,” you reply, eyes bright.
He doesn’t deny it.
Later, you’re high above the forest on your ikran, the wind roaring past your ears as the world stretches endlessly below you, green upon green, rivers like silver threads woven through the land. Neteyam flies beside you, close enough that you can hear him whoop with joy, his laughter ripped free by the sky itself.
Your ikran banks toward his, wings nearly brushing. The closeness makes your stomach flutter, and Neteyam grins, eyes crinkling as he reaches out without hesitation, linking his hand with yours midair.
The gesture is reckless. Intimate. Perfect.
“For Eywa,” he says softly, reverently, as if the sky itself is listening.
“For Eywa,” you echo, heart so full it almost hurts.
There is no war here.
No fear.
No future to dread.
Only him.
You land near the river at dusk, the sky bleeding into shades of violet and burning gold. The air is cool, the water humming quietly as if whispering secrets to the stones. Neteyam dismounts first, turning to help you down, his hands lingering at your waist longer than necessary.
You pretend not to notice. He pretends not to notice that you notice.
He pulls you down into the soft moss near the riverbank, laughter dissolving into something slower, heavier. The world feels hushed here, like even the forest knows to give you space. Fireflies drift lazily around you, their glow reflecting in his eyes.
Neteyam brushes a loose braid from your face, his thumb warm against your cheek. His gaze softens, voice dropping low.
“You’re beautiful,” he says, like it’s a fact as natural as breathing.
You laugh quietly, shaking your head. “You say that like I don’t already know you’re biased.”
“Mm,” he hums, leaning closer. “I say it because it’s true.”
His forehead presses to yours, noses brushing, breath mingling. The closeness makes your chest tighten with affection so fierce it feels overwhelming. He hesitates, just for a heartbeat, then closes the distance.
The kiss is slow. Tender. His lips are warm and familiar, moving against yours with an ease born of countless shared moments. One of his hands slides into your hair, thumb brushing soothing circles at your temple, like he’s grounding you right here with him.
You kiss him back without thinking, without doubt, without fear of what tomorrow might bring.
When you finally pull apart, he rests his forehead against yours again, eyes closed, breathing steady.
“You’ll stay,” he murmurs.
Not a question. Never a question.
“Always,” you whisper.
The word feels unbreakable.
Neteyam smiles, slow, fond, unguarded. The kind of smile that lives in your chest long after you stop seeing it. He opens his eyes… and then the smile falters.
Not fear.
Not pain.
Confusion.
His brows knit together slightly, like he’s trying to remember something that won’t come. His hand tightens in your hair, not urgently, just… uncertain.
“Hey,” you say softly. “What’s wrong?”
He blinks. Once. Twice.
The forest around you feels too still.
“…How did I die?” he asks.
The words land wrong, heavy, misplaced, impossible.
You laugh weakly, searching his face. “What?”
Neteyam’s gaze drifts past you, unfocused now, like he’s looking at something you can’t see. His fingers slip from your hair, falling limply to his side.
“I remember you,” he says slowly. “I remember this. But I don’t remember how it ended.”
Your chest tightens.
The fireflies flicker, and then vanish.
The river goes silent.
The warmth of his body fades beneath your hands.
Neteyam looks back at you, eyes suddenly far too knowing, far too sad.
“I think…” His voice cracks. “I think I didn’t come back.”
The world fractures.
---------------
You wake up gasping.
The breath tears from your lungs like you’ve been pulled from deep water, chest heaving as your hands fly out blindly, searching, reaching, for warmth that isn’t there. Your fingers curl around empty air, grasping at nothing but the cold stillness of morning.
The sounds of the forest rush back in all at once. Too loud. Too sharp. Too real. Birds call. Leaves shift. Life continues as if it hasn’t learned how to be gentle with you.
Your chest aches like something has been ripped out and left bleeding, a hollow, echoing pain that makes it hard to breathe.
You know where you are before you open your eyes.
You always do.
Slowly, reluctantly, you force them open.
Neteyam is not beside you.
The space where he should be feels wrong, too wide, too empty. Your marui lies folded neatly at the foot of the sleeping place, untouched, as if it’s waiting for a body that will never return to it. His side is still there, preserved, like the clan is afraid to disturb the ghost of him, like moving it might finally make his absence real.
Your fingers tremble as you sit up, head spinning, vision blurring until the world swims. Your breath comes shallow and uneven, each inhale stuttering like your body hasn’t learned yet that it has to keep going without him.
It was only a dream.
You tell yourself that every morning.
But the ache in your chest tells you it was more than that. It lingers too deeply, too sharply, as if your heart remembers his touch even when your hands do not.
Outside, you hear voices, Lo’ak laughing, someone calling his name. The sound slices through you, sudden and cruel. Life moves forward with relentless indifference, the world spinning on as if nothing sacred was lost, as if Eywa did not take something irreplaceable from you.
Your throat tightens.
You press your palm to your mouth, swallowing the sob that claws its way up, refusing to let it escape. Crying feels pointless now, like shouting into a void that will never answer back.
Mate.
The word still echoes inside you like a wound that never closes.
Neteyam was your mate. Chosen. Bonded. Promised beneath the Tree of Voices, your braids woven together while Eywa herself bore witness. You had planned a future measured in seasons, hunts and celebrations, laughter and children, not in memories that hurt to touch.
Now, every morning begins like this.
Waking up to the absence of him.
The realization hitting you over and over like a blade you never learn to dodge.
He is gone.
And you are still here.
---------------
The clan tries.
They try in the quiet ways, extra food left near your sleeping place, softer voices when you pass, glances that linger a second too long before turning away. Neytiri’s eyes soften whenever they find you, pain recognizing pain without needing words. Sometimes she reaches out, brushing her fingers against your arm in passing, a silent reminder that she understands this kind of loss far too well.
Jake nods at you when you meet his gaze. It’s a small thing, but it’s filled with the weight of someone who knows how deep the break runs and how little he can do to mend it. His eyes say I’m sorry in a hundred ways his mouth never could.
Lo’ak doesn’t look at you at all.
When he’s near, his shoulders tense, his laughter cutting off abruptly like it doesn’t deserve to exist around you. Guilt clings to him like smoke, thick, suffocating, impossible to escape. You catch him watching you sometimes, eyes shadowed and miserable, before he turns away again.
You don’t blame him.
You never could.
You blame the sky, how it burned and shattered, how it rained fire instead of light.
You blame the flames, the chaos, the way everything happened too fast and yet not fast enough.
You blame the sound of gunfire that still rings in your ears when you close your eyes, sharp and unforgiving, threading itself through your dreams.
And when there is no one left to blame.
You blame yourself most of all.
Because mates are meant to protect each other.
Because you were supposed to fight beside him.
Because you lived.
And he did not.
At night, when the clan finally settles and the world grows quiet enough to hear your own thoughts, you leave. You go to the place where Neteyam used to sit with you, the overlook where the sea stretches endlessly beneath the stars, where the air feels thinner and closer to Eywa.
You sit where he once sat, knees drawn to your chest, and you speak to him in whispers, voice trembling like he might hear you if you keep it soft enough. Like he might answer if you choose the right words.
“I don’t know how to be without you,” you admit one night, fingers digging into the earth as if it might anchor you. “I wake up and I reach for you, and you’re not there. And everyone keeps moving like I’m supposed to do the same.”
Your breath shudders.
“They tell me Eywa has you,” you continue quietly. “That you are safe. That you are at peace.”
A broken laugh slips past your lips, hollow and empty, echoing into the night.
“But what about me?” you whisper. “Where am I supposed to go?”
The stars remain distant and silent.
The wind stirs the leaves, brushing against your skin like a ghost of a touch you once knew.
Nothing more.
---------------
Grief does not come all at once.
It does not crash over you in a single, merciful wave and then recede. Instead, it creeps in quietly, settling into the spaces you don’t think to guard. It waits. It watches. And then it strikes when you least expect it.
It comes in flashes.
In the sound of rushing water, when the river hits the stones just right and you hear his laugh layered over it, bright and warm and so him that your breath catches painfully in your throat. In the distant call of an ikran overhead, sharp and wild, and for half a heartbeat you turn, expecting to see him banking through the sky with that reckless grin meant only for you.
Sometimes it comes in memory so vivid it feels physical.
You remember the weight of his arm draped over your shoulders, the heat of his body pressed close on cold nights. You remember the way his thumb would trace idle patterns into your skin when he thought you were asleep. The memory is so strong that you swear you can still feel him, that if you reach out just a little further, your fingers will meet his again.
They never do.
And sometimes… you dream again.
The dreams are crueler now.
Not always sweet. Not always safe. Sometimes Neteyam stands just out of reach, close enough that you can see every familiar line of his face, every emotion flickering in his eyes. He never looks afraid. Never hurt.
Only sad.
Only gentle.
Only knowing.
You call his name, your voice breaking as you reach for him, but the distance between you never closes. He watches you with a softness that hurts worse than anger ever could.
“I’m still with you,” he says, voice steady, certain, like it’s meant to comfort you.
You wake up with your hands clenched in the bedding, cheeks wet, chest aching like it’s caving in on itself. The words linger long after the dream fades, echoing in the silence of the night.
You cry every time.
Not because the dream is cruel, but because waking up is.
-------------
Did you notice the line from Loak and Neteyam's conversation at the beginning of afaa???? The movie was soooooo good, but I missed seeing Neteyam's face on the screen ):
Method Acting Gone Wrong / Mira x Gender Neutral Reader
Mira had fought demons, cursed stages, and possessed fans. But what she was not prepared for was being flirted with by a married person.
Warnings: Actor! Reader. Misunderstandings (Reader is "married"). Fluff.
Word count: 2574
They met by accident — which, Mira would later insist, was the worst kind of meeting.
Huntr/x had been invited to a private studio event: a small crossover shoot featuring musicians and actors for an upcoming streaming campaign. Mira didn’t care much for the social part of it; she was there to do her job, smile when required, and leave.
Y/n, on the other hand, had just wrapped a scene. Still half in costume.
They were leaning against the refreshment table when Mira approached, scanning for water. They moved aside politely.
“Sorry,” Y/n said, smiling. “All yours.”
Their voice was warm. Casual.
Mira nodded. “Thanks.” She poured herself a drink. But the actor didn’t leave.
“So,” Y/n said, glancing at the equipment around the room. “You’re Mira, right?”
The idol turned, mildly surprised. “Yeah.”
“I’m a big fan,” Y/n added quickly. “Your music is insane. Your new album is—”
Mira raised an eyebrow. “You know about us?”
“Of course,” you said. “I'm a big Huntri/x fan."
The idol huffed a quiet laugh despite herself.
Strike one: charm.
Y/n leaned back, relaxed, clearly not trying too hard — which somehow made it worse.
“I’m Y/N,” they said, offering their hand.
Mira shook it. And that’s when she saw it.
The ring.
Golden. Plain. On that finger.
Mira’s smile froze on her face, but the actor didn’t seem to notice.
Strike two: ignorance.
Y/n kept talking. Which was, frankly, their biggest mistake.
“So, uh… I saw your show last year,” they continued. “You have this way of owning space. It’s kind of unreal.”
Mira didn't say anything, only staring at the actor's hand. Then at their face. Then back at their hand.
The girl pulled her own hand back as if burned.
“Are you serious right now?” she snapped.
Y/n blinked. “—Sorry?”
“You’re flirting with me,” Mira said flatly.
Y/n froze. " I-I was just talking.”
“With a ring on your finger?”
The actor looked down and saw the ring.
Their brain stalled.
“Oh.”
Mira crossed her arms, raising a sharp eyebrow. “Oh?”
“No, no— see—” Y/n lifted their hand. “This isn’t—”
The idol cut them off. “That’s low, you know.”
“What?”
“Coming onto someone while you’re married?”
“I’m not—”
“Do they know you do this?” Mira continued, clearly gaining momentum. “Or is this, like, a hobby?”
Y/n opened their mouth to retaliate. To defend themselves somehow. But nothing came out.
Because the girl didn’t pause. At all.
“I don’t mess with cheaters,” Mira said sharply. “And I definitely don’t appreciate being treated like a side quest.”
Several people nearby were now definitely listening.
Y/n's ears burned. “I swear I can explain—”
“Oh, can you?” Mira interrupted. “Because it looks pretty clear from where I’m standing.”
Y/n glanced around helplessly, as if someone might intervene.
No one did.
Strike three: public humiliation.
“Okay,” the actor said finally, louder than intended. “I’m going to talk now.”
The idol paused.
Barely.
“This ring,” Y/n said, lifting their hand again, “is part of my costume.”
Silence.
Mira stared at them, narrowing her eyes in suspicion.
“…What?”
“I just finished filming,” Y/n continued quickly, words tumbling out now that they’d found the opening. “The character’s married. I forgot to take it off. I don’t wear jewelry normally. I genuinely didn’t notice.”
Mira looked at the ring again.
Then at their face, really looking this time — noticing how flushed, embarrassed, mortified the actor looked.
“Oh,” she said.
“Yeah...Oh.”
The anger drained from Mira's expression so fast it was almost impressive.
“So you’re not married,” she clarified.
“No.”
“And you weren’t flirting while married.”
“I was flirting,” Y/n admitted. “But not married.”
Mira looked away, suddenly very interested in the wall. “…I may have jumped to conclusions.”
Y/n let out a breath they’d been holding for several minutes. “Just a little.” They said while scratching the back of their neck.
A beat passed.
Then Mira groaned and covered her face with one hand.
“Oh my God.”
Y/n smiled despite themselves. “If it helps, this is officially the most embarrassing interaction I’ve had in years.”
The idol peeked at them through her fingers. “You let me yell at you.”
“I couldn’t get a word in,” the actor said weakly. “You’re terrifying when you’re mad.”
Mira snorted. “Good.” Then she sighed, straightened, and looked at Y/n properly again.
“I’m… sorry,” she said, stiff but sincere. “I shouldn’t have assumed.”
“It’s okay,” the actor said. “I should probably start checking my hands before flirting with K-pop stars.”
That earned a laugh — short, sharp, genuine.
Mira glanced at their hand again. “You should take it off.”
Y/n slid the ring into their pocket immediately. “Already emotionally burned it.”
The idol hesitated. Then, quieter: “So… you were flirting?”
Y/n shrugged, suddenly shy. “Yeah. Kind of.”
Mira studied them for a moment — not angry now, just curious. “…You’re bad at first impressions,” she said.
The actor smiled. “You still talking to me?”
Mira rolled her eyes. “Unfortunately.”
But she didn’t walk away.
And that — awkward, humiliating, painfully funny as it had been — felt like the beginning of something neither of them was ready to admit yet.
-----------
The problem with first impressions was that they tended to linger.
Especially when the first impression involved a gorgeous K-pop star yelling at them in a rehearsal hallway while they stood there, blinking, silently pointing at their hand like an idiot.
The ring. That stupid, fake, prop wedding ring.
Y/n remembered explaining it eventually — breathless, tripping over their words, apologizing at least four times after it— and Mira had stared at them like she didn’t know whether to be embarrassed, annoyed, or insulted on a much deeper level.
The girl had chosen to be annoyed.
And this was why Y/n was currently standing outside the Huntr/x practice room, rehearsing what they were going to say under their breath while they waited for the girl to come out.
“Okay,” Y/n whispered to themselves. “You just have to say: Hey, I wanted to apologize again about the misunderstanding. No. Too formal. Hey, do you want to go out with me?. Worse. Horrible. Stop talking.”
The door slid open.
Mira walked out, towel around her neck, hair damp, expression neutral but sharp — like she always looked when she wasn’t onstage.
Y/n froze when the idol noticed them instantly.
Her eyes then flicked to their hands.
“…No ring,” she said flatly.
Y/n exhaled in relief. “Yeah. I learned my lesson.”
Mira raised a brow. “Good.”
There was a pause. An awful, stretching pause.
Y/n opened their mouth. Closed it. Opened it again.
“I was hoping,” they started, then immediately winced. “I mean — only if it’s okay — and this is not me flirting, unless you consider it flirting, which I’m not assuming you would—”
Mira crossed her arms. “This is painful,” she said.
“Right. Sorry.” Y/n swallowed. “I just… wanted to ask if you’d want to get coffee with me.”
The idol only stared.
Y/n rushed on to explain themselves. “Not a date. Unless you think it’s a date. Which it doesn’t have to be. It could be an apology coffee. Or a peace-offering-coffee. Or—”
“Breathe,” Mira cut in.
Y/n did as told and took a deep breath.
Mira tilted her head slightly, studying the actor— really studying them this time. Not the imaginary version of them she’d built in her head (Married. Flirtatious. Audaciously audacious), but them.
“…Coffee,” she repeated slowly.
“Yes.”
“Not a date.”
“Correct.”
“Unless I think it is.”
Y/n nodded. “Exactly.”
The idol sighed through her nose. “You’re exhausting.”
“I’ve been told.”
Another pause. Then, unexpectedly—
“Fine,” Mira said. “Coffee.”
Y/n's face lit up like they’d just won something monumental. “Great! I mean — cool. Casual. Normal. I’m totally normal about this.”
Mira rolled her eyes and walked past them. “Don’t make it weird.”
The actor followed, already failing. “I absolutely will, but I’ll try not to.”
-----------
Coffee became a thing.
Not a date. But also… not not a date.
They met at quiet cafés, usually near filming locations or practice studios. They talked about work — Mira’s latest shows, Y/n's acting roles, and how exhausting both industries were in completely different ways.
Y/n was calmer than the idol expected. Thoughtful. A good listener. And annoyingly funny too.
“You realize,” Mira said one afternoon, stirring her drink, “that people think we’re dating.”
Y/n nearly choked. “Oh God. I’m so sorry. Do you want to start seeing each other less? I know how fans can be.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
The actor tilted their head, confused. “Then what did you mean?”
Mira didn’t answer. Just looked away.
And somehow, without either of them saying it out loud, coffee became two coffees.
Then a walk.
Then, a “I’ll text you.”
And a “Yeah. I’d like that.”
They started seeing each other a lot after that.
Not officially. Not labeled.
Y/n would show up to rehearsals sometimes, and Mira would watch from the side with an unreadable expression that softened just a little when the actor caught her eye.
The idol sometimes would come to one of Y/n's shoots, standing quietly off-camera, arms crossed, judging everyone else far more harshly than she judged them.
Later that night, after one of their dates, Y/n stood awkwardly at the door of the Huntri/x's apartment.
“So,” they said. “I was thinking…”
Mira raised an eyebrow. “Dangerous.”
“You know how we said this wasn’t a date?”
“Yes.”
“And how we keep seeing each other?”
“…Yes.”
“Well. Maybe we could keep doing that. But this time—” Y/n swallowed, “—it is a date. If you want.”
The idol studied them for a long moment, and then she stepped closer.
“…You’re still bad at this,” she said.
Y/n smiled nervously. “But you keep saying yes.”
The girl reached out, fingers brushing theirs — not pulling away this time.
“Yeah,” Mira admitted quietly. “I do.”
And this time, neither of them pretended it wasn’t something more.
-----------
It happened quietly.
Mira realized she liked Y/n the day she got injured during practice — nothing serious, just a strained muscle — and they showed up unannounced with ice packs and takeout.
“You didn’t have to do this,” she said.
“I wanted to,” Y/n replied simply.
The idol watched them carefully arrange the food, making sure nothing spilled.
“…You’re doing this on purpose,” Mira said.
“Doing what?”
“Getting under my skin.”
Y/n looked genuinely confused when they turned to look at the girl. “I thought I already did that with the ring.”
Mira laughed — a real laugh, unguarded.
That was the moment. That day was marked forever in her memory.
Bonus Chapter:
Mira had never been the jealous type.
She knew that. She’d always known that.
So when Rumi casually flipped on the TV in the common room while they were eating takeout, Mira barely looked up from her phone.
Until she heard Y/n's voice. Warm. Familiar. Laughing.
Mira’s head snapped up.
On the screen, there they were — sitting on a late-night couch beside their co-star, dressed sharp, relaxed, wedding ring very conspicuously missing this time. The host was laughing, the audience clapping.
Zoey froze mid-bite. And Rumi’s eyes slowly widened.
“Oh,” Zoey said. “That’s—”
“Y/n,” Rumi finished. “…Mira's new friend.”
Mira didn’t respond.
Her jaw tightened.
On-screen, the host leaned forward. “So you two play married characters on the show. How’s that chemistry off-screen?”
Y/n's co-star laughed easily, tilting toward them. “We spend more time together than we do with our actual families.”
Y/n only smiled — polite, familiar, and warm.
Mira felt something sharp twist in her chest.
“That’s normal for filming,” she muttered.
Zoey blinked. “…No one asked?”
On-screen, the host grinned. “Fans are convinced you’re dating in real life.”
Y/n's co-star didn’t even hesitate. “I mean, I wouldn’t complain.”
The audience roared.
Mira stood up so abruptly her chair scraped loudly across the floor.
“Nope,” she said flatly.
Rumi looked up. “Nope what?”
Mira grabbed her water bottle. “This is stupid. I’m going to train.”
Zoey stared. “Mira… it’s a talk show.”
“Exactly.”
She left the room.
The silence she left behind was… loud.
Zoey slowly turned to Rumi. “…She’s so jealous.”
Rumi nodded. “Oh, she’s deeply jealous.”
Later that night, Y/n was still buzzing from the interview when their phone buzzed.
Miss Grumpy:
"Are you busy?"
Y/n frowned, glancing at the clock.
"Just got home. Everything okay?"
The typing bubble appeared. Disappeared. And then appeared again.
Miss Grumpy:
"Can you come over?"
Y/n didn’t hesitate to take their car keys and get out of their apartment.
-----------
Mira opened the door, already looking irritated — arms crossed, brows drawn, energy tightly coiled.
Y/n stepped inside cautiously. “Hey… did I do something?”
The girl scoffed. “Do you always flirt with your co-stars like that?”
Y/n blinked, their face twisting in confusion. “What?”
“The interview,” Mira said sharply. “You let them imply things. You laughed. You leaned in.”
Realization hit the actor all at once.
“Oh,” they said softly. “That.”
"Yes, that." Mira paced. “It was… irritating.”
Y/n watched the girl, then carefully said, “It was press. We’re trained to play along. It doesn’t mean anything.”
The idol stopped pacing.
“…It didn’t?”
“No,” Y/n said gently. “I’m seeing you. Or— whatever this is. You.”
Mira’s shoulders tensed. Then dropped, just a little. “You didn’t look uncomfortable.”
“I wasn’t,” the actor admitted. “But I wasn’t interested either.”
The pink-haired girl exhaled sharply, frustrated. “…I don’t like how that made me feel.”
Y/n smiled, soft and careful. “Jealous?”
Mira shot them a glare. “…Don’t say it like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like you’re proud.”
Y/n shrugged lightly. “I kind of am.”
The girl huffed — then went quiet. But after a moment, she said, “I don’t usually… care.”
“I know,” Y/n replied.
Mira looked at them. Really looked.
“…You’re staying, right?”
The actor stepped closer. “Yeah. I am.”
Mira's hand reached out before she could stop herself, gripping the front of Y/n's jacket — not rough, just firm.
“You,” she said quietly, “are mine.”
Y/n's pulse jumped. “Mira—”
The girl bought them down and kissed them. Not rushed. Not hesitant. Just firm enough to make her point.
When she pulled back, her forehead rested briefly against Y/n's.
content warnings: Cunnilingus, Reader is transfem and has a penis, knotting
word count: 1.4k+
masterlist
comments and reblogs are always appreciated! happy reading ♡
"Mommy," you whine. Fuck, you're so lightheaded, all of the blood in your body rushing down as your heat sets in. Honestly, you're just happy it hit while at home, the popcorn bowl shaking in your hands.
Wanda glances at you before returning her eyes to the screen, a sitcom flashing out on the TV. There's a small smirk on her face, and she gently pats your thigh. "Shush, pup. Be a big, strong alpha and control yourself for a little while longer."
You can sense the sarcasm in her voice, the slight condescension making you throb with need. Normally, Wanda kept you locked up in a special chastity cage, but she had graciously unlocked it for the weekend. She'd also taken your heat suppressants, so all of your senses were dialed up to the max as your heat began to take over.
"Fuck," you whisper, chewing a handful of popcorn to try and control your urge to sink your teeth into the skin of Wanda's sickly-sweet neck. You can smell her vanilla scent, your nose invaded by it in the best way. You're sure that your pupils are dilated severely, and your brain is no longer working.
Ah, fuck. You can smell Wanda's arousal. She was doing an excellent job of appearing nonchalant, her hand gently rubbing your thigh, but you could hear her heart beating faster, racing in her chest. She's taking deeper breaths, her eyes almost too focused on the screen in front of her. You can tell she's not really paying attention to the sitcom anymore, and you can sense her own heat rising in response to your pheremones.
The show seems to drag on forever, and you set the popcorn bowl down on the coffee table in an effort to distract your hands. You don't know what to do after, your attention torn between the TV and the scent of Wanda's growing arousal. Wanda's hand is dangerously close to your bulge, your baggy sweatpants feeling tight as you see the tent forming. Your head is spinning with need, and you can't stop the whimpers that spill from your lips.
"Shhh, I know," Wanda murmurs, making you groan. "The episode is almost over, pup. Just a few more minutes. Then you can fuck Mommy."
You're throbbing at her words, barely able to contain yourself. "Yes, Mommy."
The time passes ever so slowly, but finally, Wanda switches the TV off. You can barely see her in the dim lighting of the living room, but you can smell her excitement. Her pupils are just as dilated as yours, and you stop the growl that threatens to claw out of you.
"Please," you whine, taking initiative and sliding off the couch, dropping to your knees. Wanda's legs spread, and she looks down at you, her head tilted. "Please let me touch you."
"Just touch?" Wanda asks, her hand colliding with your forehead as you surge forward, the scent of her slick arousal reaching you. "Ah ah, pup. You know the rules."
You do know the rules, but it's hard to remember them right now. Your mind is fuzzy, the only thing on your mind is the need to fuck your Omega. Your hands rest on Wanda's thighs, your chin tilted upward as you plead with your eyes.
"Beg for it," Wanda commands, her voice slightly strained. You smirk, loving the effect your pheremones have on your normally stoic wife.
"Please, Wanda," you start, giving her your best look, the one that normally makes her fold instantly. You sense her heart rate rise in response. "I need you so bad, I want to knot you, baby. Please let me make you feel good. Let your pup rut into you, Mommy, I need it so bad-"
You would have continued, but Wanda nods once, the movement jerky as she moves her arms out of the way. Those green eyes are locked on you as your face lights up at the permission. You're moving before you can really think, the fabric of Wanda's sweatpants tearing slightly as you pull them off, your eyes zeroing in on the slickness between her legs.
Without hesitation, you dive in, moaning at the taste of your Omega's arousal. She's so wet, her slick coating your tongue as you greedily lap at her.
"Yes, fuck," Wanda moans, her hands gripping your hair. "Good girl, making Mommy feel so good."
You break then, ripping off your own sweatpants and standing.
Wanda's eyes trail down, her arousal flooding your senses as she takes you in. She loves how red the tip of your cock gets when you're desperate like this, and she bites down on her bottom lip before looking back up at you. "Put me on my stomach, baby. You know that's Mommy's favorite position."
"Yes, Mommy," you breathe, before moving quickly. You're gentle as you grab Wanda's hips, her body already turning on the couch. You firmly nudge her into position, swinging your leg over hers as your fingers dig into the swell of her ass.
Fuck, you can see how wet she is, her slick smearing over the backs of her thighs. You grab her ass fully, your thumb dipping close to her center as you spread her open slightly. She's moving her hips, grinding down into the couch, and you hear her moan softly.
"Baby," Wanda rasps out, her hands gripping the throw pillow beneath her head. She turns her head, looking at you. "If you don't start fucking me in the next twenty seconds, I'm not letting you cum for a month."
That spurs you into action immediately, your cock throbbing as you position it at her entrance. You know she's slick enough to take it, so you thrust the entire thing deep inside her in a single, powerful stroke. A low moan forces its way out of your throat, and your mind goes blank as you hear Wanda softly groan beneath you.
"Holy fuck," you manage, the words sounding more like a whimper. Your fingers are digging into her, and you pull out until only the tip of your cock is inside, before starting a brutal pace.
Your balls swing against her clit with each thrust, and you moan at the delicious way her pussy clings to you. Wanda is panting beneath you, her back arched in pleasure as you fuck her. You begin babbling at some point, moaning about filling her up and breeding her. You're not sure what you're saying, really. All you know is that your Omega feels so fucking good, and you're so close, and your knot is rapidly beginning to swell.
"Force it in, baby," Wanda grunts, her knuckles white as she grips the pillow. Her makeup is slightly smudged, her cheeks flushed as she glances over her shoulder at you. "I want you to knot Mommy. Can you be a good pup and do that for me?"
You whimper, feeling your knot swell further. You know that in a few moments, you won't be able to properly knot Wanda. You quickly thrust, using all your strength. Wanda's slick makes it easier, but she still groans as the thickest part of your knot stretches her fully.
Your knot finally slips inside, and you moan in relief. "Please, Mommy. Let me knot you, I wanna fill you up."
Wanda nods, reaching back to grab your hand. "Knot me, baby. You can cum, let go for Mommy."
The knot inside of Wanda swells, stretching her out. You can tell that she loves it, her hips squirming as she reaches down to furiously rub her clit.
"Now," she gasps. "Cum."
You obey, your orgasm washing over you as you feel pleasure and relief hit you. Your limbs feel weightless, your cock throbbing as cum spurts inside Wanda. She's also fallen over the edge, her pussy convulsing and milking your cock. It feels amazing around your knot, and you collapse forward.
"Thank you, Mommy," you whisper, whining softly. You gently kiss the faint scar that you'd left behind all those years ago. Your claim over her, your perfect omega.
"You know I love it when you knot me," Wanda murmurs, shifting her hips slightly, your knot securely lodged inside her. "This is my favorite part, baby. Just being close to you after you've filled me up like the good alpha you are."
You just smile, enjoying the feeling. Truly, you couldn't have asked for a better mate for life.
