summary: you're known as the village girl who can't seem to catch a break from the boys. possible suitors left and right, but none of them are able to sweep you off your feet. all except one who tries his hardest everyday.
tags: sfw , heavy pining , good ending
a/n: i was watching lilo and stitch earlier and while watching nani and david, his personality reminds me so much of rotxo so I just had to write this ! so heavy inspo from them. kinda tmi but I'm in my monthly rn and the cramps are KILLING ME but I just had to deliver some fics yk
theme: butterflies & busy woman
You were known as the village beauty, the kind of girl they called a "prized pearl," something everyone wished to keep as their own. But Eywa knew the truth. You were not built to be caught or kept. You were your own kindred spirit, and far too busy living it to waste it playing along with the reef boys.
So you let them chase, wish for something they couldn't dare hope to catch. Let them spit their funny words and flash their toothy smiles. Show off with their extensive gift giving, hoping for so much as a small glance. You always answered with the same excuse with your innocent pretty smile, "I'm sorry, I'm just really busy right now..."
Many of them backed down after multiple miserable failed attempts after claiming you were too busy to think about love and whatever other desires they had in mind. A few bruised egos after half-hearted tries, all drifting back to their own lives. All except one.
Rotxo.
He never seemed to heed the gentle rejections, or thought they did not apply to him. And oh was he persistent. No matter how many times you politely declined his offers to take you for a swim, or how you accepted his gifts under the condition there would be no hidden intentions underneath his gestures, he continued as if he had nothing better to do.
Rotxo treated your "I'm busy" like a gentle tide that came and went, not something that completely knocked him off course. He'd leave you small thoughtful gifts, beautiful spiralled conch shells that he'd caught deep diving, polishing it till it shined as beautifully as your skin after you emerged from the water. A beautiful braided cord of sea grass dyed the exact shade of teal that matched the color of your eyes. Once, an ethereal luminicent flower from the deep reef, one that was very rare to find. You tucked it under your hammock where you slept, silently admiring it, and the person who retrieved it for you.
And everytime you thanked him, you dismissed him as kindly as you could. "Thank you Rotxo," you said, cradling the delicate shells he gathered for your top he overheard you talking to your little sister about, "but-" you looked over to your little sister, 'Ileya, only nine cycles old, "I have a lot going on right now." You tucked a curl behind your ear.
He'd nod respectfully, "Right, that's okay." He gave the best smile he could despite the small splinter in his chest at your rejection. You gave a curt smile in return, and waded out of the shallow water with your new collection of shells.
Rotxo watched you leave with that gentle sway in your hips as you walked, and the fresh water dripping from your still damp hair that stretched all the way down your spine.
"Don't worry." 'Ileya said who was sitting on the sand where the waves lapped at her stomach gently. "She thinks you have a cute nose and fancy hair." Rotxo's breath caught in his throat. "She thinks my nose is cute?" He flushed a little, rubbing the back of his neck. "I should know, she tells me everyyythiiiing."
Rotxo's face lit up like an ilu seeing fresh fish. "She really said that?" 'Ileya noddded vigorously, curls bouncing, "She also said she likes the way your freckles light up. She said it's like watching the reef wake up at night, whatever that means." She said carelessly, splashing the water with her hands. Rotxo's ears flattened a fraction, secretly enjoying your sister's lack of ability to keep secrets.
You were busy by the mangrove trees, pulling out herbs from the fresh ground to help fill the healer's stock. It was high afternoon, and the sun was beaming down exceptionally hotter than usual, perfect for a swim in the ocean. 'Ileya was with you, sulking and complaining about the heat, begging you to take her to the water already, and she was dying of boredom.
"Pleaseeeee, just a quick dip? My skin feels like it's frying like fish on hot rocks!" 'Ileya flopped onto the mossy root beside you, fanning herself dramatically.
You sighed, wiping your forehead free of the sweat that started to form near your brow. "A few more minutes, I promise. The Tsahik needs these herbs before eclipse. Then we can go."
She groaned louder at that, kicking her feet in the air. "You're always busy. Busy, busy, busy. Just like Rotxo says."
Your hands paused mid-pull, "He... He said that?"
"Mhm." 'Ileya said, propping herself up on her elbows, chin in her hands. "He said it to me yesterday when he was showing me how to dive deeper. He said you're the rarest pearl in the whooooole reef."
Heat that had nothing to do with the sun crept up your neck. You quickly busied your hands again by yanking roots, trying to ignore the flutter in your stomach. "He talks too much to little sisters who can't keep secrets."
'Ileya opened her mouth in shock. "Hey! I keep most of them." She stuck out her tongue and crossed her arms with a huff. "Except maybe the one where you said he had a cute butt."
Your hands froze again, and you snapped your head to look at your sister. "You what??" You almost screeched, getting ready to pounce on her. Your nostrils flared and your ears felt incredibly hot.
Before she could reply, you both heard the crunch of leaves from footsteps heading your way. It was Rotxo, fresh from the water, proof of it running down his skin like white pearls. "'Ileya! I thought I heard complaining from far away." He paused to look at you. "The Tsahik also sent me to fetch some underwater poultices. Figured once I'm done I'd come over here to see if you needed help."
You swallowed down your embarrassment before fixing your face, "We're managing. Thank you though." You smiled, genuine and never cruel.
Rotxo nodded politely, but didn't leave. Instead her waited as you worked, idly pulling at the threads of his armband. 'Ileya, sensing the awkward silence, scooted next to where Rotxo sat patiently, and whispered something into his ear that made his ears twitch and quip up into that smile you secretly loved.
"It's hotter today," Rotxo started, standing up, "The lagoon on this side is cooler, currents are bringing in fresh water. If you guys are about done, maybe we could go out for a swim?" He looked over to you for your confirmation.
'Ileya lit up with the biggest smile ever. "Yes! Pleaseeeee?" She scampered over to you, tugging on your arm looking up at you with eyes you couldn't say no to. "I-" You started, looking at your sister, then back at Rotxo, who had a sheepish smile on his face. "Okay. Fine."
'Ileya squealed and let out a bunch of thank you's as she raced to the shore. You giggled and placed your basket of herbs aside. "I blame you for this." You pushed Rotxo lightly with your hand playfully.
Rotxo was right, the water felt perfect and the current was gentle enough that you could idly float around for hours if you so wished. 'Ileya was busy practicing her diving positions while Rotxo corrected her form. You stood waist deep in the water, letting your hands swish the water around freely. It was perfect really, just the quiet splashes every so often from your sister, the sun kissed feeling of the sun on your skin was heavenly.
"Did you see that?" 'Ileya waved at you from afar, holding onto Rotxo as he carried her back to you on his hip.
"Yes, very impressive." You smiled, tucking her wet hair behind her ears. Rotxo let her down gently at your side, letting her swim up to your and grab your waist to cling on as if the tide might drag her away. She then started swimming up to the shoreline to do go who knows what leaving you and Rotxo alone for a few moments.
"She's a really good swimmer." Rotxo said, looking at 'Ileya paddle her way back to the sand. "Yeah, she is." You crossed your arms, watching your sister as well. "She takes after her sister," Rotxo said turning his gaze back to you, "stubborn, and beautiful when she's focused."
You turned to look at him, to really look at him. He had on that toothy smile you loved, and the way his eyes squinted when he did so.
Rotxo looked at you back, he loved your pretty plump lips, and your beautiful mass of curls that cascaded down your back. You had the prettiest teal eyes out of any reef girl he'd seen, nothing compared to your overwhelming beauty.
You gave a shy smile, ducking your head down to hide your blush. 'Ileya was already swimming back to you both, rambling about nonsense while you agreed with her as if you understood. "Uh huh." You said, reaching out your hand for her to grab.
That's when you heard the slosh of commotion coming further out ahead. A group of ilu's with riders, beaching up right where the tree of you found peace. You and Rotxo squinted to identify the figures, and recognized Aonung and his group of bullies.
"Great, your best friend is here." You mumbled, pulling 'Ileya onto your hip to ensure her safety should anything go south. Rotxo gulped. Sure Aonung was his best friend, but if anything Rotxo hated the boys he wasted his time with.
The group of boys waded up to your small group, Aonung's gaze falling on yours, your sister and Rotxo. Then back to you. "Well look at this, the prized pearl finally has time for a leisurely swim. And with none other than my best man." Aonung slapped Rotxo on the back firmly but not too hard. Rotxo coughed out and hissed lightly at him.
The rest of Aonung's group circled around you, snickering and bickering amongst themselves. Pushing and shoving each other a little too close to you and your sister for your liking.
Your tail swished angrily under the water, but didn't let your face show your discomfort. 'Ileya stayed quiet, clinging onto you for dear life.
"Aonung, we are just-" Rotxo started but got cut off. "No yes, I understand. But she's always "busy." Funny she finally has time." He glared at you, then smiled at his friends.
Your ears pinned just a fraction, but you managed to keep what little compure you had left. "I have time for the right people." You glanced at Rotxo.
Aonung's smirk faltered. His friends exchanged glances, the snickering dying out. Rotxo's ears lifted slowly, surprise flickering across his face before something warmer settled in. You didn't look away from Rotxo when you said it.
Aonung recovered first, of course. "Careful,” he said, folding his arms. "You keep saying things like that and people might start thinking you actually like my best man here."
You tilted your head, letting a dangerous smile curl your lips. The kind of smile that you used when you lost the will to be polite. "Maybe they should."
You felt it more than heard it. The way Rotxo's breath caught and the way his tail flicked once beneath the surface like he couldn’t quite believe what he was hearing.
Aonung barked a laugh, but it didn’t reach his eyes. "Well damn. Guess the busy season's over." He clapped Rotxo on the shoulder again like he was trying to shake sense into him. "Don't waste it, skxawng. She might change her mind tomorrow. And when she does, I'll be there."
Then he jerked his head toward the deeper water. "Come on. Let’s leave the lovebirds to their... whatever this is." Aonung quickly dove and his friends followed, casting a few last glances before diving under and vanishing into the blue.
'Ileya started to wriggle herself free of your tight grasp, "They're gone! Can I play now?" She didn't wait for an answer, already chasing tiny schools of fish.
You exhaled slowly, tension bleeding out of your shoulders. Rotxo was still staring at you like you'd just spoken the words in a language only he could understand.
"You okay?" you asked, holding your hand out, almost touching his arm. He blinked, then let out a soft, disbelieving laugh. "I think I'm dreaming. Pinch me."
You shook your head with a smile. "Stop it. Before I regret this." You let out a small giggle, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.
"Regret it?" he echoed, voice soft. "You just told Aonung, the biggest loudmouth in the reef, that I'm the right person. In front of his entire idiot posse. If you take it back now, I might actually drown from embarrassment."
You rolled your eyes, but the smile wouldn’t leave your lips. "I'm serious. And like he said, don't take it for granted." You stepped every so slightly closer to Rotxo in the waist deep water, but more so hip deep for him.
"Don’t worry," he said quietly, voice rougher than usual, like the words had been waiting behind his teeth for too long. "I've been waiting months for this. I’m not about to waste it. I just ask, just… let me court you. Properly."
"Properly," you repeated, tasting the word. It sounded serious. You tapped your chin playfully, turning away from him. "Hmmm." You hummed, tilting your head.
Rotxo's ears perked straight up, then flattened halfway in nervous anticipation. You let the silence stretch just long enough to watch his tail flick, betraying how badly he wanted to hear the answer. Finally you turned back to him, eyes sparkling with mischief.
"You know," you said slowly, "proper courting means you have to follow all the rules. No shortcuts. You have to actually ask permission from my mother. Bring gifts to the whole family. Sit through awkward dinners where ‘Ileya asks embarrassing questions."
Rotxo swallowed visibly, but the corner of his mouth twitched upward. "I can do that," he said without hesitation. "'Ileya already likes me. And your mom, well-" Most of the village knew your mother as a headstrong and independent woman. She didn't suffer fools. He paused, rubbing the back of his neck the way he did when he was trying not to look nervous.
"She's scary. But she's fair. I've helped her mend nets before. She called me 'useful' once. That's basically a compliment from her, right?" Rotxo met your eyes again.
You just smiled, but before you could answer, 'Ileya squealed with delight. "Eeeek! Does this mean I get to see you every day Rotxo?" She tugged on his arm eagerly.
Rotxo laughed, the sound bright and startled, his ears flicking forward in surprise at her sudden enthusiasm. He ruffled the top of her head gently, careful not to pull her braids. "If your sister accepts me, then yeah. You'll see way too much of me. You might get sick of my face."
"Never!" 'Ileya declared, wrapping her small arms around his waist in a hug. Then she looked up at you with pleading eyes. "Say yes, please? He's nice. And he makes funny faces when he's nervous. Like this!" She puffed out her cheeks and crossed her eyes.
Rotxo groaned, covering his face with one hand, but you could see the smile tugging at his mouth. "Betrayed by my own apprentice."
You couldn't help but let the laugh that bubbled in your chest free. You covered your mouth with a hand, and let out your other to let 'Ileya hold onto. She graciously took your offer, paddling over to your hip.
"Okay." You breathed, catching your breath. "Rotxo." Your voice dropped lower, but softly, switching the tone to more serious. Rotxo's ears perked at your voice. "I accept."
"You... accept?" he repeated, voice barely above a whisper.
You nodded, the smile on your face small but real. "Yes. Properly. All of it. Tomorrow, after the Tsahìk. Come find us. Bring the cord for Mom. And... maybe one of those abalone discs for 'Ileya. She's earned it."
Rotxo lifted 'Ileya easily onto his hip like she weighed nothing. He nodded eagerly, smiling. Then 'Ileya wriggled impatiently. "Okay, mushy time over! Mom's gonna be mad if we're late for dinner again!"
warnings: inexperienced x experienced trope / p in v / sub rotxo / switch reader / grinding / cunnilingus / hair pulling / whining / whiny rotxo / groping / fingering
authors: yes this is getting me out of my slump!!! also part 3 of my neteyam x oc fic will be out sooon my lovely gigidih's and i hope yall enjoy this i've been really wanting to write about rotxo and aonung more so expect to see more of them soon! ALL CHARACTERS ARE 18+!
wc: 4.3k
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꣑ৎ ｡°‧⭑.ᐟ
You had grown close to Kiri after the Sullys arrived in your clan of the Metkayina. At first, naturally, you were apprehensive. Who wasn't? Six uniquely blue Na'vi arrived in your reef clan with all the wrong evolutionary features needed to thrive in the ocean's embrace. Their five-fingered hands, their slender tails, their lack of aqua-coloured freckles that would help them blend with the coral reefs—all marked them as outsiders, as different.
The whispers among your clan had been relentless at first. "They breathe too fast," said one elder. "Their tails are too thin for proper balance on ilu," grumbled another. You had listened with the rest, your own prejudices taking root like coral on a rock. But then, as fate would have it, you had been chosen by Tsahìk Ronal to help introduce the Sully children to the ways of the water. It was a duty you initially resented, until you actually spent time with them.
There was something endearing about their lankish movements and awkward swimming. Lo'ak, with his reckless energy that often led to disastrous tumbles off ilu. Tuk, with her wide-eyed wonder at every new creature she encountered. Neteyam, trying so hard to be perfect despite the obvious discomfort he felt in your waters. And then there was Kiri.
Kiri was the closest to you in age, and from the moment you first guided her hands to form the proper breathing technique for underwater exploration, you felt a connection. She understood you in a way that not even the girls of your clan could. Tsireya was wonderful, of course—kind, patient, and always willing to help—but she had never experienced that particular shyness that came from being perpetually cast to the shadows. She had never known the stiffness in your shoulders that developed from years of watching others excel while you struggled to find your place.
With Kiri, there was none of that judgment. When you accidentally inhaled a mouthful of saltwater while trying to teach her how to not do that, she didn't laugh like some of your peers might have. Instead, she had patted your back gently, her strange five-fingered hand feeling surprisingly comforting against your skin, and shared her own embarrassing stories of learning to swim.
"I once tried to breathe underwater like a fish," she had admitted with a shy smile, "and ended up choking so badly my father had to rescue me."
The vulnerability in her confession had broken through your reservations, and from that day forward, you found yourself seeking her company more and more. You showed her the best spots for gathering colorful shells, taught her how to weave the intricate patterns favored by your clan, and listened with rapt attention as she described the forest world she came from—a place of towering trees and floating mountains that sounded like something from a dream.
So when Kiri mentioned one afternoon that Rotxo was assigned to start training with her to improve her breath-holding, you felt a flutter in your chest that had nothing to do with the ocean breeze. Rotxo. The name alone was enough to make your tail curl slightly, a reaction you tried desperately to suppress whenever he was near.
Rotxo was everything you weren't—confident, graceful in the water, surrounded by friends, with a smile that seemed to light up even the cloudiest days. You had watched him from afar for months, admiring the easy way he interacted with everyone, the natural leadership qualities that made others gravitate toward him. He was one of the few who had welcomed the Sullys without reservation, taking Neteyam and Lo'ak under his wing with genuine enthusiasm.
Now, as you sat with Kiri on the shoreline, weaving decorative tops from dried reeds, you knew that if you wanted to learn more about him, this was as good an opportunity as any. The setting sun painted the sky in shades of orange and pink, casting a warm glow over your faces as your fingers worked deftly through the reeds.
"Rotxo seems to be spending a lot of time with Neteyam lately," you began, trying to sound casual as you kept your eyes fixed on your weaving. "He's really taken to teaching him our ways."
Kiri's hands stilled, and you could feel her gaze on you. You risked a glance upward and found her watching you with a deadpan expression that slowly morphed into a knowing smirk.
Your cheeks flushed beneath your blue skin. "Shut up," you scoffed, turning your attention back to your work with renewed focus.
"I didn't say anything," Kiri replied, her voice dripping with smug satisfaction.
You both shook your heads, falling into a comfortable silence broken only by the gentle lapping of waves against the shore. After a moment, just as your heart rate was returning to normal, Kiri spoke again.
"He hasn't said anything, but..."
Your ears perked at her words, your tail raising ever so slightly in anticipation. You tried to maintain your casual demeanor, but you could feel Kiri's eyes on you as she turned toward you, a softness and gentleness in her gaze as she spoke with sincerity.
"I see the way he looks at you."
The reeds in your hands nearly slipped from your grasp. "What do you mean?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.
Kiri sighed softly, setting aside her own weaving to face you fully. "When he thinks no one is watching. When you're practicing with your ilu or helping Tuk with her swimming. There's this... this look in his eyes. Like he's admiring something precious."
Your heart hammered against your ribs. "But he never talks to me. Not really."
"He's shy," Kiri said simply.
"More than you'd think. He puts on this confident front for everyone, but I've seen him when he's with just us Sullys. He's worried about disappointing people, about not being good enough. Especially with someone like you."
"Someone like me?" you repeated, confused.
Kiri reached out and gently touched your arm. "Someone who belongs here so completely. You're everything this clan values—graceful, skilled, beautiful. He probably thinks you'd never be interested in an ordinary guy like him."
The revelation stunned you into silence. All this time, you had assumed Rotxo barely noticed your existence, when in reality, he might have been feeling just as insecure as you were.
꣑ৎ ｡°‧⭑.ᐟ
The week following your conversation with Kiri was an exercise in frustration. For seven fucking days, you had been sending Rotxo signals—clear, unmistakable signs of your interest. A wink when he caught your eye across the training grounds. A flirtatious comment about how his muscles looked after a particularly rigorous swimming session. A brush of the arm that was far too long to be accidental.
Hell, you had even outright said that he was cute during a communal meal, his cheeks flushing a delightful shade of purple before he quickly looked away.
What more could he possibly need? An engraved invitation? A formal declaration from the Tsahìk herself?
You weren't quite thinking straight as you stomped toward Rotxo where he emerged from the water on his ilu, his sleek body glistening with droplets that caught the afternoon light. His eyes widened as he nervously began to stammer out a greeting, only to be silenced by you smacking him with your tail—not hard enough to truly hurt, but with enough force to make your point.
"Am I hideous?" you hissed, your hands planted firmly on your hips.
Rotxo tilted his head, his expression one of complete confusion. "No, no, what—" he began, but you cut him off.
"So then why have you been avoiding all my advances? Rotxo, I have given you such an easy way in. So it's either I'm ugly or you're an incredibly oblivious skxawng."
He flinched at your words, his shoulders slumping as he stared down at the sand bashedly. The anger in your chest softened slightly at the sight, replaced by a growing concern. You placed a hand on his shoulder, feeling the tension there.
"Hey," you said softly. "It's okay. You can tell me anything."
Rotxo sighed heavily, the sound carrying the weight of his confession. "I've seen the signs," he admitted quietly. "I am a skxawng, but not in the way you're thinking." He risked a glance at you, his eyes filled with vulnerability. "I've never... done anything of the sort. With anyone. And I didn't want to disappoint you."
Your heart swelled with a mixture of emotions—surprise, compassion, and something else you couldn't quite name. "Rotxo," you said gently, "why would you think you'd disappoint me?"
"Because you're... you," he said, gesturing vaguely at you. "Perfect. And I'm just... me. I've never even kissed anyone properly. What would I possibly have to offer someone like you?"
The raw honesty in his voice struck you deeply. All this time, you had been building him up in your mind as this confident, experienced warrior who was out of your league, when in reality, he was just as nervous and uncertain as you were.
"Rotxo," you said, your voice barely above a whisper as you stepped closer, "I think you have a lot more to offer than you realize."
His eyes widened slightly as you closed the distance between you, your hand still resting on his shoulder. "I don't know what to do," he admitted, his voice trembling slightly.
"Then let me show you," you replied, leaning in slowly, giving him plenty of time to pull away if he wanted to.
When your lips finally met his, it was hesitant at first—a gentle exploration that spoke of uncharted territory. Rotxo's lips were soft and unsure against yours, moving with an awkwardness that was endearing rather than off-putting. You took the lead, guiding his lips with yours, teaching him the rhythm you preferred. His hands hovered uncertainly at his sides before finally coming to rest hesitantly on your waist.
As the kiss deepened, you felt him grow more confident. His lips began to move with more purpose, his grip on your waist tightening slightly. A small sound of satisfaction escaped him as he tilted his head, deepening the connection. You smiled against his mouth, pleased with his eagerness to learn.
Pulling away slightly, you guided his lips to your neck. "Kiss me where it feels right," you murmured, tilting your head to give him better access.
Rotxo followed your instructions without hesitation, pressing tentative kisses along the column of your throat. His inexperience showed in the slightly clumsy way he nipped at your skin, but the enthusiasm more than made up for any lack of technique. He explored your neck and shoulders with growing confidence, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine.
He paused for a moment, standing back up straight and looking down at you, his hands still holding your waist gently. "I... I want to make you feel good..." he said, his voice barely above a whisper.
You let out a small giggle, taking his hand and leading him toward a cluster of broad-leafed plants near the beach that would provide some privacy. The setting sun cast long shadows across the sand as you settled on a smooth boulder, guiding Rotxo to stand between your legs.
Looking up at him, you could see the mixture of nervousness and desire in his eyes. "It's okay," you said softly, reaching out to slowly push him down until he was kneeling in front of you. "Just follow my lead."
Rotxo looked up at you with wide eyes, his hands resting tentatively on your thighs. "I've never..." he began, but you silenced him with a gentle shake of your head.
"I know," you replied. "That's why I'm going to show you."
You guided his hands to the waistband of your tewng, your fingers covering his as you helped him untie the knot. The fabric fell away, exposing you to his view. Rotxo's breath hitched audibly, a sharp intake of air that was almost a gasp. His eyes, wide with a mixture of awe and raw desire, traced the lines of your body, lingering on the subtle bioluminescent patterns that began to glow faintly across your hips and thighs in the twilight. He looked utterly mesmerized, as if he were witnessing something sacred and forbidden all at once.
"Touch me," you whispered, your voice a low, sultry command. You took his hand, his fingers trembling slightly against yours, and guided it directly toward your heat. The moment his skin made contact with yours, you felt a jolt of electricity. "Feel how much I want this."
His fingers brushed against your slick folds, and you couldn't suppress a small, sharp gasp at the contact. It was feather-light, hesitant, but it sent a wave of pleasure straight through you. Rotxo froze instantly, his entire body going rigid with panic. "Did I... did I hurt you?" he stammered, his eyes flying up to meet yours, wide with alarm.
You shook your head, a slow smile spreading across your face as you saw the genuine concern etched into his features. "No," you breathed, your voice thick with desire. "Far from it. Don't stop."
Seeing the pleasure written so clearly across your face seemed to give him a surge of confidence. He relaxed slightly, his touch becoming more deliberate as he began to explore you with growing curiosity. "Like this?" he asked, his voice trembling slightly as his fingers slid experimentally through your wetness, tracing the shape of your folds with a newfound boldness.
You nodded, your head falling back against the cool, smooth surface of the boulder behind you. A soft moan escaped your lips as his fingers found your clit, circling it with a hesitancy that was somehow more arousing than any skilled touch you'd experienced before. He was learning you, mapping your most sensitive spots with an earnest dedication that made your heart ache.
"Don't be too fast with your tongue," you cooed, reaching down to gently cup the back of his head, encouraging him to lean closer. "Feel the rhythm. Listen to my body."
Rotxo needed no further encouragement. He leaned in, his warm breath ghosting over your most sensitive skin before his tongue made contact. The first touch was tentative, almost shy—a soft, broad stroke that was more exploratory than anything else. But as you responded with soft moans of encouragement, your fingers tangling in his hair, he grew bolder.
It was a bit sloppy at first, sure. His movements were uncoordinated, his rhythm erratic as he tried to figure out what felt best. But there was an enthusiasm to his efforts that was utterly intoxicating. He was completely focused on you, his entire being devoted to learning what made you gasp, what made you moan, what made your hips arch toward his mouth in silent demand.
Once Rotxo found a suitable pace, it surprisingly felt good. Really good. His enthusiasm was infectious, and you found yourself growing wetter with each passing moment, your body responding to his earnest attentions with an intensity that surprised even you. He seemed to sense your growing arousal, his movements becoming more confident as he realized he was pleasing you.
"Put a finger in me," you panted, your hips arching toward his mouth as the pleasure began to build to an almost unbearable intensity. "Please, Rotxo..."
Though he was nervous, he complied, slowly easing one finger into your heat. The sensation was overwhelming—your eyes rolled back into your head at the feeling of him filling you, even just slightly. Your inner walls clenched around him instinctively, drawing him deeper as you let out a guttural moan of pure pleasure.
You began panting heavier, your chest rising and falling rapidly as he continued to work his magic on you. One hand gripped his hair tightly, holding him in place as you ground your hips against his face, seeking more of the delicious friction he was providing. Rotxo whined at the action, the sound sending vibrations through your core that only heightened your pleasure.
He seemed to gain confidence with each passing moment, adding a second finger as he curled them inside you, stroking that sensitive spot deep within that made your entire body tremble. His tongue worked in tandem with his fingers, flicking and circling your clit with an eagerness that was utterly endearing.
You could feel yourself approaching the edge, your body tensing with anticipation as the pleasure built to an almost unbearable intensity. Your thighs began to tremble, your breath coming in ragged gasps as you teetered on the brink of release. Rotxo seemed to sense your impending orgasm, redoubling his efforts as he worked to push you over the edge.
Just as you felt yourself beginning to tip over, your body tensing with the promise of release, you pulled his head away, much to his dismay. "Not yet," you whispered, seeing the confusion and disappointment in his eyes as he looked up at you, his face glistening with your arousal. "I want to feel you inside me when I cum."
Standing up on slightly shaky legs, the aftershocks of his mouth still tingling through your core, you guided Rotxo to sit on the boulder you had just vacated. His movements were clumsy, his limbs feeling like they didn't quite belong to him after the intensity of your pleasure. He looked up at you, his pupils blown wide with a mixture of awe and apprehension, his hands resting uncertainly on his knees. The setting sun caught the side of his face, highlighting the sheer vulnerability in his expression.
You straddled his lap, the warmth of his body seeping into yours even through the thin layers of your remaining clothing. The position was intimate, dominant, and Rotxo's breath hitched. His hands flew to your hips, gripping them like his life depended on it. His touch was desperate, a lifeline in a sea of sensations he was utterly unprepared for. He looked terrified, but in a way that said he was terrified he'd cum any moment, terrified that this perfect moment would be over before it had truly begun.
You rolled your hips against him, just once, a slow, deliberate grind of your clothed core against the hard ridge straining his tewng. The friction was electric. It was enough to have Rotxo burying his head in your shoulder, his face pressed against the crook of your neck as he shuddered violently.
"Do-don't..." he stammered against your skin, his voice muffled and ragged. "I'll..."
You smiled, a wicked, knowing curve of your lips. You brought one hand down between your bodies, cupping the solid heat of his bulge through his loincloth and giving it a firm, possessive squeeze. He jolted, a choked-off groan escaping him.
"Hold it in, pretty," you murmured, your voice a low purr against his ear. "For as long as you can, okay? I want to feel all of you."
He nodded his head, the motion jerky and frantic against your shoulder, though he did it extremely begrudgingly. You could feel the tremor that ran through his entire body, the sheer force of will it was taking him to obey.
You rolled your hips again, setting a slow, agonizing pace. Each circle of your hips was a deliberate torture, a promise of what was to come. Rotxo couldn't control his moans, letting out small, high-pitched whines and whimpers against your skin. His hands, still gripping your hips, spasmed with every movement you made. He began kissing all over your chest, his lips hot and clumsy against your collarbones and the swell of your breasts above your top. You had to admit, he knew just what to do even with his lack of expertise; his desperation was its own form of skill.
You slowly brushed his tewng to the side, your fingers tracing the line of his hip before pulling the woven fabric away. His erection sprang free, thick and flushed a deep purple, the tip already beading with moisture. It was a beautiful sight, and it made your mouth water.
"Is this okay?" you asked, leaning in to kiss his cheek, your lips ghosting over his skin.
He nodded eagerly, his head lifting from your shoulder to look down at where your bodies were nearly joined. His eyes were dark, fixed on the sight of you poised above him.
Pushing your own tewng to the side, you raised your hips slightly, positioning yourself over him. You sank down, just the tip of his dick breaching your entrance. It was a good size, longer than you'd expected, but it was Rotxo's thickness that really got you. The stretch was immediate, a delicious, stinging pressure that had you gasping.
You hissed, biting your plump bottom lip with your small fangs to keep from crying out. The sensation was overwhelming, a perfect blend of pleasure and pain.
Rotxo threw his head back at the feeling, his throat exposed as he let out a guttural sound. "A-are you okay? Am I hurting you?" he managed to squeak out, his hands tightening on your hips as if to pull you away.
You shook your head with a whine, pressing your lips to his to silence both his moans and your own. It was a messy, desperate kiss, all teeth and tongue. You stayed like that for a moment, just the tip of him inside you, letting him get used to the feeling of your wet, squelching pussy clenching around him. He was drunk on the sensation, and honestly wished he could stay like that forever, suspended in this moment of perfect, torturous connection.
"What-what do I do from here?" he stammered out against your lips, pulling back just enough to look at you with wide, pleading eyes, like a puppy dog begging for direction.
You smiled, your heart swelling with a fierce tenderness. You petted the top of his head, your fingers stroking through his soft, dark hair. You leaned toward his ear, your warm breath tickling his skin as you whispered out an "I got this," before pressing a soft, reassuring kiss to his temple.
You began to move, sinking down further, taking another inch of him. Then you began bouncing slowly, each downward movement forcing Rotxo to physically restrain himself from cumming. You could feel the tension in his thighs, the way his entire body went rigid with every roll of your hips. It was a power you had never experienced, a heady rush that made you bold.
Your pace quickened, your movements becoming more fluid as you adjusted to his size. Both of your heads rolled back as you held onto his chest for support, your nails digging into his shoulders. His hands, no longer content to stay on your hips, wandered your body. They traced the curve of your spine, cupped your ass, slid up to tangle in your hair. He stared up at you, his mouth rolled open in awe at the sight of you—your beautiful turquoise skin glowing softly in the dimming light, your braids falling down your shoulders to brush against his chest, your breasts bouncing in your top, the hard points of your nipples clearly visible through the thin fabric.
You were both close to reaching your high, the coil of pleasure tightening low in your belly. You whine, gesturing with your head to his hands, which were currently gripping your ass.
"I need..." you whimpered out, your voice breathy and broken. "I need your fingers."
Rotxo was more than extremely eager; he was desperate to please. He quickly fumbled one hand between your sweat-slicked bodies, his fingers searching clumsily until you guided them to your clit.
"Rub it in circles," you panted, guiding his thumb to the sensitive bundle of nerves. "Quick, but not hard, okay? Just like that."
He nodded, his brow furrowed in concentration as he carefully rubbed, following your instructions perfectly. The added stimulation was your undoing. Your head fell limp on his shoulder, your body sagging against his as the pleasure crested, a tidal wave of ecstasy that washed over you, stealing your breath.
Rotxo was a moaning mess beneath you, and as praises fell from your lips—"Yes, Rotxo, just like that, you're so good, so perfect"—it only made him hornier. The feeling of you cumming around him, the sound of his name on your lips, was too much.
You came with a sharp cry, your entire body convulsing as you hissed and bit down into his shoulder. The sharp pain of your fangs sinking into his skin only furthered his pleasure, a perfect counterpoint to the overwhelming bliss.
"I can't... I think I'm gonna..." Rotxo whined out, his voice strained with the effort of holding back.
You quickly pulled off of him, his dick slipping out of you with a wet sound. In the same motion, you wrapped your hand around his slick, throbbing shaft, jerking him off with quick, firm strokes. It only took two pumps before he came with a guttural shout, his hot release spurting onto your stomach in thick, white ropes. His tail slapped against the rock behind him happily in a display of pure ecstasy, a rhythmic thumping that matched the pulse of his release.
As you both caught your breath, you could feel the gentle ocean breeze cooling your heated skin, drying the sweat and cum on your bodies. Rotxo looked at you with wonder in his eyes, his chest heaving with exertion, the bite mark on his shoulder already beginning to bruise a lovely shade of purple.
"That was..." he began, but seemed unable to find the words, his mind still reeling from the intensity of it all.
You smiled, leaning in to kiss him gently, a soft, sweet press of lips that was a stark contrast to the frantic passion of moments before.
"Amazing," you finished for him, your voice soft but sure. "And we're just getting started."
"We are?" Rotxo called out as you walked off, ears perking upwards as his mouth pulled into an excited grin.
Soft Boy [secret relationship; f] 5,1k @gender3nvyy
With your clan's annual feast coming up, your parents believe you should be looking for a mate. What they don't know is that you already have a boy you call yours.
— OPPOSITES ATTRACT ! [f] @livelaughloak
The whole ocean, for your laugh 5,6k @chromemolars
roxto finally gets a chance with his long time artistically talented crush, he has to prove himself while he can!
Waited for you. [kissing, tiny forbidden love trope; f] 3k @only4ateya
TALENTED [f] 0,6k @neteyamslovrr
──;; 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐘𝐎𝐔 ★☆ [f] @vante1920pm
— SIGNS & SMILES .[f] @livelaughloak
Bad Influence [f] @biolumilunareclipse
it seems ao’nung has begun to rub off on rotxo, seeing as he got into a fight and came to you to be patched up.
...Meeting Rotxo [f]@darlnosis
— antics [a, f] 0,7k @bonnibuckets
rotxo compares himself to every guy you come into contact with— even his own best friend ao’nung.
ALWAYS BEEN YOU ! [a, f] @eitaababe
A MIGHTY HEART AND TWO GENTLE HANDS [slight angst] 1,2k @scribblewytch
feelings are the strongest pain and power that some people have.
hii can i pls request some hcs of rotxo with a gn s/o that is the polar opposite of him in terms of personality? (like, they’re more serious and straightforward than him yk?)
— OPPOSITES ATTRACT !
pairing : rotxo x reader !
a/n : i secretly get really excited when i see the name rotxo in my inbox. he’s so cute. anyway
taglist (let me know if you want to be added) : @nyotamalfoy @victoirey @itssiaaax @grierpilots
poor dude is scared of you
i mean, he doesn’t fear you, per say, he’s just intimidated
during the rare times he’s talking to you, he’s stuttering 24/7
which you don’t understand because ??? you’re just you being you ??
so when you have that same deadpan expression on your face, it automatically makes him overthink
being the confused boy he is, he eventually gathers the courage to (very kindly) confront you about it
“y/n… do you uh, hate me?” asked rotxo randomly. this question caught you off guard, because you didn’t think you ever showed signs of hatred towards him
in fact, you liked him. not even platonically.
“no,” you said, “but you are cute for thinking that.” your voice was completely monotone, as if your words were nothing.
but those words literally made rotxo a stuttering mess.
“w-wait, what? you think i am cute?” he kept his eyes on you, waiting for an answer.
you finally looked up at him.
“is that not what i just said?”
it’d take him a while to get used to your straightforward personality, since he’s never had to talk to someone that just speaks their mind
you two started dating after he accidentally confessed his feelings for you
you responded with “i already know.”
but a win is a win because now you’re his s/o!
he loves you and the way you’re so focused on tasks you’re assigned to
for example, you were in training to be a better hunter, so you would often decline offers to hangout with you, no matter who they were
sometimes even rotxo.
you would think he’d be saddened by this, but it makes him chase you even more
so every second he spends with you, he cherishes it like it’s your last.
“finally,” he’d sigh, “we can be alone together.” he played with your hands, as it was a developed habit of his ever since you two started to be intimate with each other
you watched him fiddle with your fingers, your heart swelling at the fact that he’s missed your company, “rotxo, i am sorry…” you gulped. guilt began to swim through you as you realized you’ve been unknowingly neglecting him
his ears fluttered downwards at the sound of the sadness in your voice. you were not one to show emotion often, so for you to be vulnerable like this, to him especially, made his heart beat just a little quicker
“no no, y/n, i didn’t mean it like that. i understand that you need to train, i just miss you sometimes. that’s all.” he tried to speak as fast as he could, desperate to get you to understand.
you shook your head, “what i did was inexcusable. i promise that i will spend time with you, okay?” you pulled him close, hugging him tightly
he smiled at the contact and just nodded, happy to be in your arms again
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
bonus !
you ruffled rotxo’s hair, proud of the fact that he caught a fish in the water. you were teaching him how to hunt, so he could spend time with you even when you’re training
you saw his excited expression and you couldn’t help but grin, completely forgetting you were in the presence of other people
“is y/n smiling?” kiri asked in disbelief while she caught you from afar
lo’ak’s jaw dropped, “ao’nung, take a picture! quick!”
A/N: Yo I thought I posted this last night, took shrooms. Finally just woke back up came and checked and was like no way no one has interacted w this fic and then realized i never pressed post. Rotxo deserves more love so I decided in a little fic for him. Switch x Switch couples are just my cup of tea. This is not my fav but I am a sucker for love and romance. It’s grammarly proofread but not beta read 🤭 (might be looking for another beta reader)
pairing(s): Rotxo x f!Reader, platonic!Ao’nung x f!Reader (briefly)
word count: ~8k
warnings: NSFW / MDNI, Size kink, stomach bulge, face sitting(f!receiving), Cunnalingus, Cumswaping maybe?, Spit, he’s a messy eater you can’t tell me otherwise, beach sex, Jealous!Rotxo, he’s just so sweet and pretty, Unprotected, love taps on your butt, “girl” is used, it’s pretty soft for the most part, he’s obsessed and def a simp
Playfully scrapping had become increasingly popular amongst your friend group since you had been introduced to each other's cultures all those years ago. It was commonplace to play amongst yourselves. Just earlier in the evening you and Ao’nung had just almost spoiled your dinner by shoving each other's faces into the sand after a slap-boxing horseplay over some crustacean turned into a rather enthralling spar that had both of your fathers rooting for and coaching from an imagined sideline (and mothers who were doing more yelling and hooting in excitement then offering tactical advice).
Rotxo had even watched in amusement as it seemed Ao’nung had succeeded in neutralizing you with a knee on your back. Unfortunately, Ao’nung had been a fool and got off of you to turn to his father with a grin. It took you only seconds for you to contort yourself into a crouch and launch yourself into the back of his legs sending him forward onto his knees. His shock gave you enough time to maneuver both of your palms onto the back of his head and dramatically push his face right down into the sand,
“That is for punching me,”
And Rotxo couldn’t help the pang of jealousy at the fact that your pretty thighs straddle his best friend's back. Or the fact that jealousy grew into a painful lump in his throat when Ao’nungs arm hooks behind him to support your frame as he almost barrel rolls half onto his back to pin your thigh under his body and halt your assault with a laugh.
All your family and friends are laughing at the two of you, and your mothers coo as they watch you wipe sand off of Ao’nungs face. Rotxo couldn’t stop the bitter resentment that bubbled in his chest at the sight. He hated feeling this way. He hated the way you made him feel not quite like himself.
Which is why he does his very best at keeping it hidden. Not that it’s hard for him to forget the resentment he feels for you the second you give him your attention. Even only hours after the disgusting display of affection with his best friend. When you kindly ask him to accompany you on a walk he can’t even think about how upset he had been. Even now while your chiding voice disrupts the peacefulness of your walk and the beauty of the light beginning to set over the reef.
“You’re mad because I will not spar with you?”
He cuts off your words. The duck of the young warrior's head, so he could speak to you face to face as you walked down the beach only insults you more. Had he been on the side closest to the soft waves you’d have no doubt shoved him onto his ass into the assaulting water. Obviously that is what you were angry about-
“Is it because I cheat when I fight Ao’nung? If he is so stupid as to keep turning his back on me after all this time then he is at fault,”
You sound genuinely confused as you try desperately to make sense of why Rotxo would rough house with Lo’ak or Neteyam and even Kiri but not you. It’s funny how conceited you sound even as you’re practically bouncing next to him and pestering him like a bug. Rotxo knew a little better than most though regarding the inner workings of your mind. It wasn’t that you were conceited- you were just stupidly confident. He didn’t doubt, however, that one way or another your small frame would beat him simply because he knew you wouldn’t dare give up until you did.
“Besides the fact that I vividly remember when you bit Tinangey in the cheek,” Rotxo try’s to defend his unwillingness to hit you with an annunciation to his story by holding two of his second knuckles to the apex of your cobalt cheek. Long, thick fingers curled against your glowy skin. The same place you had bitten the longed-haired, round-faced, barely tolerable boy all those years ago when you fought. Though in your defense Ao’nung and the group of boys had started a very real fight, and you had only followed in your brother's shadow of retribution.
“And I happen to hit much harder than Ao’nung does,” he adds.
For a second, Rotxo feels like he exudes your same confidence. It’s not an unwarranted comment, however. Ao’nung was less than a head taller than him, but Rotxo had grown into quite an impressive specimen. Wide and as immovable as the waves that crashed outside of the reef you do not venture past. That was more than half the reason why you wanted to spar with the Talioang of a man so terribly.
“You are no fun,”
He can’t help but frown at your words. He knows you aren’t serious- would you spend as much time with him if you did not find entertainment in him? The same insecurity that causes resentment to bubble in his stomach rears its ugly head once more. For a second he feels like he could believe that you had been aware of how he felt and that you used him for validation.
“You should be more thankful to me,” he chides, baring his fangs slightly in a half grinned snarl, “that I refuse to knock any more brain cells out of you,”
You complain he doesn’t horseplay with you the way the others do, but at this moment he organically wraps one palm around the back of your head to pull you into him slightly, so he could cruelly rub his knuckles against the crown of your head.
Because he does roughhouse with you. Rotxo always played with you. Was always there to entertain you because the idea of other men wrapping their hands around the pliable flesh of your flowing form made the ugliest parts of him surface. If it wasn’t Rotxo entertaining you it was your siblings or his best friend. As he had not made any formal claim towards you out of his nerves, unfortunately, had to tolerate it regarding his future Olo'eyktan.
You’re just a terrible little cretin that found delight in the chaos you left in your wake. It’s why you, Lo’ak, and Kiri get into so much trouble. It’s why you poked at Ao’nung. He can swear there’s a part of you that does it just to cause strife in his heart.
He can’t be bothered with pondering over the legitimacy of his accusation partially out of fear that he’s projecting, and perhaps you are just like Ao’nung. Though mostly it’s because of course you are swatting your delicate little hand at him and grumbling about how you’re smarter than him and that he was the stupid one to think otherwise.
It’s endearing how you walk backward as the two of you playfully bicker and fight. Though like always- Rotxo is catching your intended slaps and redirecting your arms to swoop past him. Sometimes even grabbing at your forearms so you can’t help but be pulled around haphazardly by him.
“You are so fucking annoying,”
Your shriek comes as Rotxo almost effortlessly maneuvered you to spin forward and walk ahead of him, while he pinned your arms across your chest. You both stumble over each other's feet as you can’t help but laugh over the fact that he’s made your arms an effective straight jacket. You wiggle and writhe and it halts his walking while you try to dig your heel into the top of his foot. It only results in one of your wrists being let go of and you being spun around like a toy by him.
He had half let you stumble while he used the momentum of your arms to spin you, but he was quick to grab hold of your other wrist, propping you right up.
You were out of breath from the game but you were thankful for the view he presented you with. The violets and oranges of sunset suited the aquamarine of his skin. Dancing between the intricate tidal markings on his body, and forcing your eyes to dance across the defined arms, chest, and neck that were covered in bold black lines. You feel a little silly, being so flustered before him with your whole face purpled. You can help it because he looks pretty at the moment. Absolutely beautiful like always. Like no one you had ever seen before.
Rotxo is quick to heave you up in the air and shake you around. Ruining the view that had just begun to calm you down. Riling you into hysteric laughter while playing with you as if you weighed nothing. You shake in his arms and toss your body around like a mad-woman and you’re cackling just like one.
When he begins to feel merciful you land on your feet, with his arms still pining your hands and arms against your ribs that are rapidly rising and falling. With the welcomed breaths you instantly go back to chastising him.
“That is not sparring, fish-boy! You were just being an imbecile.”
You’re snapping an arm fee so you can poke him in the chest. He can’t help but roll his eyes at your attempt and take your hand to lightly ‘smack’ your face with it.
“You are ridiculous,”
He tried to emphasize his words with a similar assault by your other hand but you offered resistance,
“If you just took me seriously I-“ you’re cut off as you struggle to keep him from playfully making you hit yourself. Thrashing your head around wildly. And he’s just laughing above you because he thinks it’s stupid that you assume he just thinks you can’t fight and that’s why he won’t spar with you. For Eywas sake he watches you win regularly.
It’s like you could read his mind without tsaheylu and the mention of your victories emboldened you. He hadn’t even noticed your leg raise to wrap around his locked knee leisurely supporting his weight while he tormented you.
He had buckled backward under the weight of his massive frame embarrassingly quickly. You had expected him to let go of your wrists as he fell, but he did not. Opting to drag you down into the sand with him.
He tries to control the mauve that dances across his skin but this is the reason he didn’t spar with you. He can tell himself it’s because he hates seeing you get hit, and that his heart breaks and chokes him any time he thinks about striking you even in that situation.
He knows however, it’s because he can’t be this close to you. He can already feel his ears perking up towards you and his eyes relaxing while he stares up at you. How pretty. Your sapphire skin was dazzling under the cool violets and dwindling oranges of an almost completely set sun. The stars had even begun to twinkle behind you between the other shining moons.
“You are the worst,” your pants finally die down, to match your soft glare,
“Is that so?” His cheeks dimple as he grins wildly up at you as you adjust to straddle his chest more comfortably.
“Yes. I swing at you and you don’t even try to hit me back.”
And there’s another attitude laced plop to his chest. More follow as you use said pops to enunciate your following words,
“You just toss me around like I am useless and cannot fight! You know I can. Yet you only fight my brothers, how are you meant to get better if you don’t-“
He stops listening to your scoldings. He doesn’t care what you’re saying when his heart beats against your inner thighs. When he can feel the pudge of your hips practically pooling on him begging for him to grab at it. Why couldn’t you connect the dots? Why were you so stupid? He can’t help but laugh at you, there’s even a bit of a bitter snide behind it. Even though he thinks it’s endearing how badly you wanted to prove yourself to him. He cuts you off abruptly,
“Go and fight with Ao’nung,”
And it’s got your pretty siren eyes widening at his words.
“What does he have to do with anything,”
The sight of his sea-foam eyes rolling into the back of his head has your snarl fixed down at him,
“Can’t step on the Olo'eyktan’s toes can I? Huh?”
He has an expression you’ve never seen cross his face before. Not on Rotxo’s. Not the sweet boy who you had spent so much time with,
“What are you talking about, Ro?”
Ro. You dare call him Ro at a time like this. It makes him sit up on in elbow, grabbing at the top of your now elevated thigh,
“What do you mean what am I talking about? Why do you need to spar with me when you can practice with him? Unless it’s just some weird mating thing you guys have going on-”
He’s never seen your face screw up quite like it is now. Red-faced at his accusation not out of embarrassment but out of anger. Angry that he’d made such a brazen accusation. The first outbreak from Rotxo leaves you stumbling over how to answer him, and you notice he looks hurt at your stunned silence.
“Yeah, ‘course that’s what it is. You make it quite obvious-“ and you feel him start to move under you- probably to get up and apologize and tell you you had to walk back to the village now because even with the hurt salted embarrassment he feels now he’d never leave you to walk back alone. Never let you be in danger. You know that and it makes you more upset,
“Don’t tell me what I do and don’t make it obvious. I am not your fucking ilu- you do not know what I’m thinking.”
Your left hand reaches for the wrist of the hand that holds your thigh while your right pointer and middle fingers aim down at him accusingly.
“So you have no interest in him?”
Rotxo is speaking faster than usual. A trait you had noticed followed Rotxo anytime he was too hyped up. He was the softest boy you had ever known yet the gentle buzz of adrenaline that leaked out of his too-quick breaths reminded you that he was in fact a Metkayina warrior.
“Mhmm,”
You’re honestly surprised it has taken you this long to notice the mutual affection he had harbored for you. Blinded by your insecurities, the sight of him frantic over the idea of your affection belonging to someone else made you squirm.
“I suppose he would be a fine mate now that you mention it-” and you smile down at him, hoping he knows you’re kidding. That you just don’t know how to talk about your feelings “considering no one else seems to be all that interested in me,”
And you feel him go ridged under you, round eyes fixated on your own. You think he’s annoyed a little bit, staring dumbfounded at you. But you feel his fingers dig into the meat of your thigh.
“Was this your plan? Torment me into doing what you want?”
You don’t know if it’s the chill of the eclipses sea breeze or the fact that Rotxo’s voice was as modulated, deep, and mesmerizing as always, yet his face held the same intense stare that the Metkayina warriors were renowned for. You’re embarrassed at the way you twitch as he props both hands on your thighs and adjusts himself back into laying straight back.
“Nu-uh, but is it working?” And you're purring above him, flicking your tail across his stomach. It only added to the overstimulated feeling throbbing at the front of Rotxo’s skull. An uncomfortable pendulum swinging him between ecstasy at the sight of your pretty form sat on his chest and misery over the fact that he still couldn’t shake the insecurity that you were toying with him.
“No-“ He curses a crack in his voice with a swallow, “I will just stay tormented,”
His hands are warm as they paw at the top of your thighs. He can’t help but feel like he’s on fire at your position, at least the sand was starting to cool in the dark. It helped keep him from sweating below you even as he pants at the sight above him. Your knees are pushed under his arms and nestled against his ribs and he worries you can feel his heart pounding. You made the air hang hot around his head.
You’re nervous at how intense his dusk sullen aqua eyes maintain their contact with you but he doesn’t have a choice- if you scooted up less than a foot you’d be sat right on his face- there’s nothing he’s ever wanted more.
“Lost in thought?”
He cringes at your voice. Not knowing how you always get him like this. How you always have the high ground. He doesn’t know why he’s honest with you,
“I do not want you to fight with Ao’nung like that anymore.”
And you grin at him and place your palm on his cheek,
“Is that so? That means you will spar with me now?”
He couldn’t wrap his head around your obsession with being hurt? Did you pester everyone to fight with you like this? The thought makes his body move on reflex, craning his neck enough to open his mouth wide and comp down onto the exposed skin of your thigh. You bounce on his chest, pulling at his hair back with a whine in response.
“If you are jealous you can just say so you do not have to bite me, you child.”
He can only smile because it’s his hair you’re yanking at. You’re sitting on him and-
“I’m not jealous. Not in this moment anyways,”
One of his hands slides up your hunched forward torso, and he’s pulling you down by the woven fabric of your top. You’re not sure if he’s pulling you down to kiss him. You figure with the state of things though a kiss wasn’t an unwelcome advance, and you’re not surprised when his head lifts to kiss you back.
It’s better than any silly fantasy you had ever let yourself drift into because he’s warm and real and he’s kissing you like you’re fragile because he wants you to feel safe enough to be fragile. He wouldn’t have wasted so much time becoming a competent warrior if it wasn’t to keep you safe.
“How could you think I’d want to share a brain with Ao’nung huh? I’d kill myself.” you smile against his lips, “as if I’d ever want him over you,”
And he knows you’re not lying to him as the fluff of your tail tickles against a throbbing vein in his lower stomach. How could you be lying when you’re hunched over uncomfortably while you straddle him just so you could purr into a kiss? His big hands cradling your cheeks makes you ignore the ache in your spine, and you thank Eywa he’s so big as to add ease to the position.
By some stroke of luck, his hand travels down your spine as if to soothe the ache while your tongues swirled against each other. Despite the trembling ache that plagued your lower stomach at the endearing turn of events, Rotxo kisses you, softly. As if you’re not dying for him. Even though you straddle him his chest and move against him to relieve the pressure he inflicts on you. You’re very obviously making out with him. Willingly letting his mouth explore yours at his own pace. You can’t help but slide down his torso so you could lay on top of him properly.
You couldn’t get over how wide you still had to spread your legs to straddle his waist. Even though you laid over him caging his body under yours he engulfed you. You need to breathe far earlier than he does, and he finds it cute how you huff against his lips to catch your breath.
“You’re not going to let Ao’nung touch you anymore, ya?”
And he can’t help the dopey pitch of his voice as he catches your lips in a quick kiss. Not when you’re beaming down at him.
“Only if you touch me instead,”
You sound so coy considering you’re giggling above him. And when you enunciate your words with another kiss he can’t help the obnoxious chortle that leaves his lips- that’s until you bite at his bottom lip slightly,
“You are too bossy,”
But he kisses you the way you want him to. Pushing his nose against yours. He doesn’t think he can like anything more until he feels your hips grind against the lower abs of his stomach- that tighten and flex at the feeling of your now twitching core.
The confidence the both of you had mutually worked up to had you lost in your own world. You know it’s unbecoming of you both to be caught in such a situation but you had enough confidence in your privacy and even less confidence in your own self-control to do anything about it.
“Sit on my face,” it comes out as a gaspy whisper between your clanking teeth while you grind against him, “Let me take care of you instead,”
It makes you whimper above him and he swears it’s some sort of nirvana.
“I-I’ve never-” and you are mad at how wet the inside of your mouth is and yet it still offers no solace to the lump in your throat
“No’ gonna make you,”
You’re not sure if the sound of him slurring into your mouth makes you moan or the fact that your tail finds and runs across his erect member behind you.
“Obviously want you to,” and his palm is on your cheek, “wanted you on my mouth since you plopped down on me,”
He’s kissing you between his words and you know he means it. You can hear it in his voice. He just about died of excitement when he felt you propping yourself up on your knees.
Now that you’re back up he can admire your pretty body once again. He thinks this is the first time he’s ever seen you not take the lead. It made him blush- realizing how shy you had suddenly become. He’s gentle when he reaches for your thigh again, sliding up until his fingers reach the fabric of your tweng,
“Can I?”
You wondered how the sun would rise in the morning when it was trapped in his smile. Looking up at you as if you were Eywa herself. How could he possibly think you don’t want him to untie it?
You don’t know how to say yes without embarrassing yourself, so you do what any rational woman would do when the love of their life was laid between their legs. You reach up to the fabric tie of your beaded top, and let it fall from your body, plopping down in the sand next to you.
You can’t ignore the throb that plagues you at the widening of his eyes, how they instantly drop to your breasts. The only cover from his eyes are the few strands of hair.
You’re almost shocked at his fumbling fingers. Too excited to uncover you and too large for the delicate fabric, yet like all things that required a gentle hand- Rotxo succeeded at his task quickly. Obediently you let his palms guide your hips up. He is rewarded with one more sway of your tail over his quickly hardening length as tosses your bottoms in the opposite direction of your top.
You're breathing heavily when he cranes his neck to look at your most intimate flesh,
“Oh, Eywa,”
He can feel himself leaking all over his stomach at the sight of your bare cunt against his torso, and the warm feeling of you dripping could drive him to madness.
“C’mere, give me you.”
You listen of course. He feels bad that he likes you best like this. Tentatively crawling up his large chest to place your legs on the side of his head.
He doesn’t feel bad for enjoying the view of you hovering above his face. He can’t believe he had done this. He can’t believe you’re swollen, sticky, and wet for him.
His hands are wrapping around the fat of your thighs to pull you into open-mouthed kisses against your thighs. You’re mad it feels so good- he’s not even touched you and yet your thighs twitch where he kisses.
You reward him with a real moan at the quick swipe of his tongue from the bottom of your leaking hole right across your clit. Though he didn’t truly know what he was doing, he knew what he wanted to do. That was enough. You seemed to like what he was doing regardless. He likes kissing you. Feeling the way your lips twitch against his. His tongue finds a comfortable rhythm exploring your folds. You tasted like nothing he had ever eaten before. He couldn’t compare you to anything else- and there wasn’t a thing in Pandora he’d rather in his mouth.
Though you're panting and wiggling your hips in front of his face he still wants to give you more. Wants to wrap his arms around your thighs and take care of you the way you should be taken care of. He doesn’t know why he has such a need to take care of you, especially since you had caused him so much grief. He knows you’re more than willing and capable of handling him mating you without any of this - but he can’t help it. He wants to spoon-feed the world to you; do everything for you. Even if it means doing all the work to get that pretty pussy of yours to cum in his mouth.
His desire to take care of you is probably why one of his big hands finds your hips. Why it slides across your smooth skin and his thumb hooks under your tail to push you down and forward onto his wanting mouth.
“I said sit-” he speaks into your cunt, the vibrations of his voice making you clench your stomach.
He can feel his dick jump at the way you cry at the feeling of him grinding your sensitive pussy against his wanting mouth, legs clamping down against his blood-rushed ears. When he finally slides his tongue into your twitching hole again he can’t help but reach down to squeeze at the base of his throbbing dick. Just for a second, he could pretend you were clamping down on his cock and not his rapidly exploring tongue. You’re too busy following along with the motion Rotxo’s hand around your tail provides for you to notice what he’s doing, however. When you’re so blissed out that you lean back to brace your hands onto his chest he can’t help but take in the sight of your thrown-back head. Your hair was behind you now and he could watch the night sky illuminate the swell of your breasts. He can’t be bothered to feel bad at watching you so vulnerable and unaware when he’s the one to cause it.
With the added space of you leaning off of him slightly, he was able to drag his face across your leaking cunt as if he were a starved animal ripping into a meal.
You feel dirty- for the way your head quickly snaps forwards to watch the way he shakes his head back and forth between your legs. There’s no hiding the mess below you at this point. The twinkling night does little to hide the slick connecting you to him. And you feel yourself leak even worse when his relaxed eyes blink open and he catches you staring at him. When he slows his movements to take in the look on your face.
“Ro- don’t- Rotxo-“
Embarrassment is evident in your voice despite the fact he feels like his face is burning brighter than yours. He can’t seem to wrap his head around the fact that you’re sitting on his face, you’re letting him eat you out.
He wraps his lips around his new favorite part of your body, sucking the nerve into his mouth with a cruel pop. Kissing it after you cry out,
“You feelin' good?”
His words are soft, as you feel his thumb caress the underside of your tail. You only try to sit back down on his face with a wiggle of your hips. Rotxo has finally found a happy middle ground where he felt confident with you, however. Gripping your tail tighter to keep your greedy cunt off of his face.
“Answer me,”
And with his words comes a gentle graze of his sharp teeth against the pulsating sticky skin of your clit. He’s never heard you make the noise that responds to his assault. A cry or a hiss he wouldn’t know- but it was his new favorite sound. He’s only licking you- it’s only at the work of his tongue that your legs are shaking so prettily on his cheeks.
“Yes- yes you know I am-“ You start, “can you keep going now?”
It’s the fake polite voice you use that makes him scoff. He finds it endearing how badly you try to grind yourself against him in the same rhythm he had previously helped you with. But with his grip on your tail, and the punishingly slow strokes of his tongue against your slit you stayed bubbling on the edge. You’ve never been so pliable for anyone before, he thinks. He’s never seen you so whiney over anything.
“Rotxo please!”
Your please is a little too mean. It wasn’t you asking him to make you feel good. You were being bossy and rude. Red face screwed up in frustration as if you had still been scolding him for the fact he wouldn’t hit you. Maybe it’s why his other hand leaves your hip for a second to swat at the fat of your ass.
Between you sidling forward onto his face, and the fact that your pretty little tail wagged across his painfully hardened cock he couldn’t help but moan right into you.
The guttural moan of his deep voice sends a shock wave up your body that has one hand digging into the sand next to his head and the other hand pulling at the mess of curls on top of his head. Maybe he understood your annoyance at his stubborn desire to hold back before. Because right now you are doing the same.
All he wanted was for you to cum. So one hand returned to your pretty tail to help you grind your clit against his face. It was cute how you tensed at the feeling of the tip of his fingers that had risen up against the hole that so willingly leaked all over him. You don’t even give him a chance to ask if you’re okay with it before you sink back into his fingers, ruining the kiss Rotxo had just begun assaulting your clit with.
The sight of spit connecting his swollen lips to your cunt, and the feeling of one of his finger reaching deeper in you than you had ever been able to touch makes you tremble above him. He’s rocking you against his face while he begins an almost punishing assault on your hole.
In his defense, he wasn’t truly aware of how punishing the pace was. The only thing he was focused on was the steady ripple of your ass against his knuckles. So blissfully unaware of how much louder your voice had gotten. The wet sound he was greeted with as he slid a second finger inside you only spurred the speed of his hand more.
“I- I… Ro I feel-”
And he feels the tip of your tail softly lay across his aching cock as though to anchor yourself as you arch forward into his face, thighs trembling. He moans at the ache of his scalp as you pull him into you and he can’t help but open his eyes wide.
Eywa is Rotxo glad he did. He knows he’s going to remember this for the rest of his life- the view of your pretty legs choking him in a vice grip and pussy clenching up on his fingers while you practically scream. You don’t listen to yourself though, not when you’re preoccupied with the sound of him slurping against you. As if he’s never enjoyed something more- and he’s smiling against you as he alternates, scraping his teeth against you, and sloppily kissing you though your orgasm. All while his fingers still slowly curl inside of you.
You feel like you should be embarrassed, panting above him- trying to force oxygen into your deprived lungs and brain. He doesn’t make you feel awkward though. Not even for a second. Not while he’s petting your thigh and smiling up at you between his movements.
“You’re alright?”
The hum of his voice was questioning. You couldn’t help that part of you felt as though he was telling you that you were alright though. Maybe that’s why you felt so at ease.
“Better than alright,”
Your coquettish grin has him pawing at your thighs to scoot you back down off of him. Even though he’s never enjoyed doing something more than taking care of you, the feeling of your tail twitching against the tip of his throbbing cock had raised an unfamiliar pain in his stomach. Besides, the sinful sounds you had been making for him; the pretty dazed face had coaxed you into had made him confident enough to not want to be under you any longer.
You instinctually wrap your arms around his neck as you feel him begin to sit himself up. One arm wrapped tightly under your ass (giving himself the luxury of wrapping one of his meaty palms around the meatier fat of your ass) to keep you from sliding down into his lap until he had sat up completely, and could position you comfortably.
You can’t help but smile at how disheveled he looks. His hair is all askew from you yanking at it and his face is completely blushed and wet from all the effort. The way the corners of his lips twitch into a smile by the time your bare slit makes contact with him is almost mischievous in a way. As if he was expecting the gasp that falls from your lips as he drags you down across the tweng that painfully constricts the parts of him that hadn’t hardened out of it. It finally relieves some of the pressure knotting at the pit of his stomach. You could never wrap your mind around how sitting on his lap could be so calming yet intimidating. You can’t help but reach for the sand covered curls at the back of his head pulling desperately to fill the gap the height difference caused. Wanting nothing more than for him to bless you with another kiss.
Of course, he obliges. He doesn’t think he could ever deny you a single thing now. Not when you’re grinding down onto him while kissing him. Dragging the fabric across the both of you, and Eywa when you run your tongue across his lips with a giggle he has to stop himself from cumming between the both of you.
Feeling the way his tip leaks against your belly button has your heart beating so impossibly fast that the rattling it causes in your rib cage hurts.
“We do not have to do anything else,”
He doesn’t want to remind you. He really does not. He wants nothing more than to sink you down onto him- but he doesn’t want you to feel pressured. To feel unsafe. If you had never touched him again he’d have lived happily with this moment like gold in his memory. He thanks Eywa however, when you whine at the insinuation, thread your fingers around his kuru, and your pretty snarl makes contact with his own teeth.
“Don’t make me go and find Ao’nu-”
You don’t even finish your hiss before he swats at your ass again, appreciating the way your skin recoils, and thighs tremble at his sides and for you to yelp into him. How dare you say his name with your hand where it was? Has he been too nice to you these years? Too gentle with you?
“Watch it,”
You had heard Rotxo growl before. Never at you- but you had seen what he was capable of when he did get aggressive with people. Yes, he was a sweet and gentle boy- but he was also rowdy, brawling, and all too bellicose. But because he was normally so saccharine to you, you had forgotten all about the rest of Rotxo. Big, honorable, and strong Rotxo who you had seen slam down elder warriors with years of experience on him like they were weightless. Those same muscular, intricately tattooed arms were now using the fat of your hips and ass to grind you down against him. As if to make up for the cruelty of your words your other hand reaches down, and though you had frustrated him he can’t help but buck his hips into you at the feeling of your hand sliding down the hood of his cock so you could run a thumb across his exposed tip.
“I want you. I thought I was being pretty obvious. Reya makes fun of me for it.”
You don’t know why you whisper to him, you don’t think you had ever been as soft-spoken before.
“I am just stupid-”
And his frustrations leave him at the feeling of your hands loosening around both his hand and kuru. He can’t help but slide his face against yours, slotting his nose against yours. He breaths against your face once before he speaks,
“You are not a stupid girl,” and there’s a kiss placed on your cheek under your eye as one palm raises to cradle the opposite one, “you are at least smart enough to undo a knot, yeah?”
He keeps his usual warm and syrupy baritone voice, yet there’s a condescending undertone to his voice that shoots straight down to your core. It makes your ears flatten against your head, and your eyes widen. He was almost bitter that all it took to intimidate you was to imply he wanted to impale you on his cock. Why did he waste all this time becoming such a revered deep-sea diver and warrior?
“Or are you, pretty girl?”
There’s more jest in his voice; his heart swelling at how cute you were when you weren’t being a menace. So cute in fact that he can’t help but kiss the crown of your head as he watches both of your hands reach down to untie his tweng. He supposes he could have just yanked it down, but he can’t help the rush that flows through him at the sight of you doing it. He swears he’ll ride this high for months- felt like he could fight a nalutsa all by himself.
That’s until he sees you sit up on his knees and realize what you’re going to do- what you want to do. It finally sinks in for him. You want him. Your fingers are on his kuru, your cums on his face- you chose him. Suddenly the sea breeze isn’t enough to keep him from overheating. He’s too aware of the sound of the waves and the sand that covers his back and hair and the fact that-
“Sayrìp,”
His eyes instantly leave your swollen pussy and raise to your face, locking with your eyes obediently. You smile up at him and he’s sure his pupils are as wide as yours.
“Are you okay?”
How can he not be okay when you're kissing his mandible? Teeth teasing against the pulse you’ve risen should drive him to dizzying madness but only acts to ground him back into reality,
“Jus’ cannot believe you’re here with me.”
It gives him a chance to swallow the lump in his throat,
“Who else would I be with, skxawng?”
And you're grasping at the base of him to hold his heavy leaning cock steady; he whines at the sight of your spit drooling past your pretty lips and hisses at the feeling of it plopping against him. He supposes you could use all the help you could get if you hoped to take him.
As you slide the girthy blunt tip against your slit he rewards you with a moan. A deep sound that reverberates against his chest. It makes you all too eager to try and sink down onto the tip.
But Rotxo’s arms are stronger than you and he doesn't want you to do that, so he uses that strength against you. Despite being so giving and nice on the regular, rolling over and letting you boss him around and do what you wanted he was going to mate you the way he wanted to, and you were going to take it.
When the jolt of his hands moving to hold your hips in place makes your pussy flutter against his tip he has to remind himself of that before he loses all of his resolve and pushes you down onto his length in one swift movement. The thought made him cringe. He didn’t waste all this time opening you up for him just to hurt you,
“You going to let me mate you, tsyeym?” He asks
If you think you could roll your eyes without invoking the hunter's wrath you would have. He was acting as though you hadn’t been pulling and tugging on his prettily kept braid since you had first felt his imposing length against you.
“I am not above begging,”
Though you’re chuckling softly in his ear your fingers are dancing down his kuru, and when your finally twirl the ends of his hair covering his tswin around your slender fingers he can’t help but slide just the first couple of inches of him into you. He can’t tell if he feels your fingers caressing his nerves more or the far too-tight ring of your pussy sucking him into you.
“Ma’Rotxo-”
Your free hand braces yourself down on his bicep, digging your fingernails into his flesh as if you’re the one overstimulated.
“Thought you were tough, huh?” He chides, “Wanna fight with me but can’t even take me bullyin’ my cock into ya, huh?”
If you were mean you would have tugged on his braid, giving him a semblance of the perineum sting you felt at the girth of him-
“Don’t be an asshole to me, Rotxo.”
You’re trying to be bossy still and it doesn’t suit the fact that your body feels so pliable in his hands. He doesn’t even dignify you with an answer, not when he wants you to be flush against his hips. Not when he wanted you to feel as much of him as you could before he made you feel even more. He feels a little bad that you’re so small in comparison to the Metkayina people. Though an embarrassing part of him loves the idea of spending the rest of his life drilling into your warmth until you’re molded to him he worries about how sore you’d be in the morning. He promises himself that he’d be extra kind to you tomorrow- tend to anything you could want. He will take care of you as a thank you for the way you were about to let him use you.
You couldn’t think of a time when Rotxo hadn’t taken care of you- this felt no different. So when you feel one of his hands caress you on the mission to reach around your body and pull you apart further so that more of him could slide inside all you do is huff and give into his guidance.
“Look at you,”
He sounds winded at the feeling of you clenching against him. You’re surprised he enters as easily as he does. Surprised the pressure doesn’t hurt as bad as you feared it would. Especially when one of his thumbs moves over your clit in soft quick motions,
“Just gotta relax a lil’ more.”
His eyes are fixed down; watching you take him inside of you. He doesn’t even care anymore that the end of his braid is held in your soft hand. He ignores the uncomfortable throb that shoots through it. He only has to endure seconds more of it before he’s rewarded with the slippery plap of your hips meeting. He feels bigger than ever when your hands leave their respected body parts to grab at his cheeks. He’s sure you meant to kiss him but you only managed to moan against his open mouth.
“That’s my girl,” he kisses you, “Took it all so good.” another kiss,
“Fucking Metkayina- too big,” Of course, you’re grumbling right now. Of course, you have a grumpy little voice even when he’s in your guts.
“You are rude,” one of his arms wrapped around you and pulled you flush against him, partially to appreciate your warmth but mostly so he could reach around and grab your own braid.
“Shouldn’t even touch this now, huh?”
His soft eyes give him away, and he knows you know him too well. You know that once you pull his braid over his shoulder that he’d rush to bring yours closer.
You were right of course, he’s quick to hold the bioluminescence of your tswin’s tendrils painfully close to his own. There’s something that makes your stomach tighten painfully at the sight. There was something so exciting about the fact that you were so close to being with him- all you had to do was dip your hand forward. The thought has you rolling your hips down against him to alleviate the throb of your clitoris. It’s all he needs before his other hand leaves your hip to grab your wrist that holds his tswin.
“Look at me,”
You’re so good for him. So obedient when your eyes instantly snap from where your hands almost make you one- to his eyes. He thinks you’re so beautiful. Sultry and warm and so undeniably wild. So easily he gives into the magnetic force that’s been trying to convince him to pull your tswin into his.
He thinks his heart stops at the way your eyes haze over and you melt into him. The way you practically purr as he feels his lap grow wetter. Now you were all of those things- but you were also his.
“Oh, Eywa,”
He feels bad for how roughly his one arm pulls you into him, he feels how much fuller it makes you feel but he has to feel your heartbeat against him. He thinks this is bliss- that he can’t get anything better than this. Then you begin scooting your hips back and forth against his. His hands are too quick to reach for your hair, digging his fingers into it.
The pretty way your face screws up as your pace quickens has him star-struck. The echo of your pleasure tickled his lower stomach. He can’t help but lift his hips to meet yours; the slapping sound of skin as you bounced against him is enough to spur him into near madness. Both of your throats are caught- stunned in silence over the sheer amount of feeling tsaheylu adds.
He feels bad because he knows you feel so good going at your own pace and using him to fill yourself to your heart's content. He can’t focus on that guilt when he has such an uncontrolled need to be on top of you. His hands halting your hips have you confused, and you’re only more shocked when he’s heaving you up and tossing the both of you until your back is against the sand and your hips are hiked on his firm thighs.
He doesn’t even give you a second to take in the change, slipping himself all the way into you in one fluid movement, palms returning to the fat of your hips so he could roll and grind down into you. He loves the way you clench as he rolls across your g-spot. The view is beautiful, and the way your hands reach between your thighs and rub your fingers against yourself for him only drives him further into ecstasy.
“So pretty for me,” He loves how easy it is to make you clench and throb. “My pretty mate,”
His eyes are fixed on the way your breasts bounce at the power of his thrusts and the way your stomach bulges. He knows if he focuses on your pretty face he’d be finished the way your wide eyes don’t focus on anything and the dark purple stain of your blush. He’s never quite seen your markings glow so bright. He’d never live down finishing before he even got a chance to fuck you properly- before he could really appreciate the view. So he grabs at your hips and wiggles you side to side in an effort to stimulate you further,
“Let me fuck you for real now baby,” and his hand travels up your legs that are bent against your bodies, straightening one leg over his shoulder so he could kiss your calf. How could you say no when he asks so sweetly while he was so deep inside of you?
“Please? Can you please move again?”
He forgot you could be so polite when you want to be. He’s all smiles, starting at a comfortable pace. His speed picked up quickly as he could use your whole leg as an anchor, but he still stays relatively shallow. Just to give you enough time to adjust before he picks up a punishing pace.
He knows he’s fucking you entirely too loud. He knows the way you moan under him is entirely too loud. He knows the nighttime waves aren’t loud enough to drown out what he’s doing to you but all it does is spur him on. He wishes you’d be louder but he knows you have more dignity than he does.
How can he slow down when you’re telling him he’s so good? You’re gasping as he falls forward onto one hand for more leverage. Still holding your hips up by one leg so he could slam into you. The change of position has you dragging sinfully across him and it almost distracts you from the sound of his grunts. It was magnifying seeing him worked up over you- he wasn’t even in a rut and had desired you so deeply.
“Gon- Shit. Roxto 'm gonna cum,”
The way he reacted to your words is what sends you over the edge. The way he hunches over and begins to slam into you while his eyes bore into yours. The sloppy sound of you cumming all over him and your eyes rolling into you head bring him closer more than the feeling of you clamping down on his cock. He didn’t think you could squeeze tighter and it’s embarrassing how easy you make him cum. Just barely enough time to slip out and shoot himself all over you.
He means to hit your stomach honestly, expecting it to pool where you had been slightly folded. Except he had forgotten how worked up you had gotten him- how badly he had wanted to cum in you. The sheer amount that painted your warm stomach and azure boobs should have embarrassed him but the sight of his cum shooting further and globbing on your chin and lips consumes him. You lay half folded under him, grasping onto him while you panted. Covered in his cum. No one could get near you without knowing you were his.
He can’t help but act on his desires and lean down to cage his big arms around you. Running his tongue up your chin and across your lips. You taste the salt on his lips when he immediately kisses you, and at the bite of his teeth, you’re opening your mouth so he can spit him into your mouth.
It should be raunchy and make you feel like a whore but he does it so softly and kisses you so libidinously that the swirl of his tongue against yours has you both purring into each other's mouth.
You’re perplexed at how quickly he’s back to sweet Rotxo. Kissing you gently and caressing skin that just knew the punishing grip of his strength.
He’s tall when he sits up on his knees, and now that he’s not hunched over rutting into you it truly dawns on you just how much bigger he is than you.
He scoffs as he looks around him and you’re almost confused until you watch him lean over to grab both of your bottoms before he’s grinning down at you and scooping his hands under you.
His cheeks hurt from smiling at the sound of you giggling foolishly at him as he heaves you into the air. You're both red-faced and covered in sweat and sand and he can’t wait to walk into the cooling water with you in his arms.
ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ ; neteyam, lo’ak, tsu’tey, jake, ao’nung, rotxo x reader
ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ; fluff so much fluff, aged-up!characters, dreamwalker!human!reader, na’vi!reader, gender neutral, dreamwalker!jake, established relationship, lowercase intended, the alternative tittle was avatar men + non-sexual dominance lol
ɴᴏᴡ ᴘʟᴀʏɪɴɢ ; eyes off you by prettymuch
ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ'ꜱ ɴᴏᴛᴇ ; this literally took me hours to write because my attention kept shifting to other things damn..
ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ
・・・・・・ ɴᴇᴛᴇʏᴀᴍ
﹒ɞ answers questions meant for you neteyam is frighteningly attentive to your state of mind, any and all telling signs and gestures are swiftly picked up by your boyfriend. the moment he notices your brief hesitation when faced with a question or some probing from a fellow clan member, be it because you're in a cranky mood or scared, he's quick to step up and answer on your behalf. as long as you're comfortable, he doesn't mind being the mediator in the relationship.
﹒ɞ hunts and prepares your meal as a mate, neteyam is a provider through and through. you'll never be short on anything, not if he can do something about it. "do you want mushroom steak or roasted sturmbeest ? oh, beanpod potato ? noted, i'll be quick then." neteyam prides himself on his unmatched hunting prowess, and he relishes in your praise and beaming face every time he enters your home with his catch in hands. your mate always takes your cravings and wants into account, and he takes great pleasure in preparing your meal, all the while you cuddle yourself to his side in anticipation.
﹒ɞ enforces your boundaries he's always ready to ensure that no one takes advantage of your kindness. neteyam understands, how hard it is to deny a request, and he gets how mentally and physically taxing being everyone's go-to person is, honestly. he doesn't want you running around, losing sleep, and spreading yourself thin over someone else's business. "we'd appreciate it if you could do this on your own." even if, in order to do that, he needs to use a little force. you can rest assured that neteyam will always have your back.
ㅤ
・・・・・・ ʟᴏ'ᴀᴋ
﹒ɞ makes way for you by drawing back the flap of a tent open as he stands to the side, holding onto your hand behind his back as he shoulders his way through the people, ushering you over to sit alongside him during meals. your home is right by him and he wants you there always, so he makes space for you wherever he is. lo’ak loves spending all of his available time with the one he loves most, and as long as he's around, you will always have a place in the world.
﹒ɞ defends your reputation lo'ak's troublemaker abilities are well known within the clan since he was a small kid, and while he's been discouraged from those practices since getting with you, that doesn't mean he won't resort to some quarrel or ruthless prank to get back at someone who dares to bad-mouth, belittle or disrespect you. you've had to patch up your boyfriend a handful of times because of that, and despite being apprehensive of the consequences that await him, you fall deeper in love with him each time. "stop it! that's so cheesy. i'm not your silent protector, ew."
﹒ɞ interrupts people who interrupt you if there's one thing Lo'ak hates more than being talked over, is when people talk over you. the sight of your beautiful features twisting into a frown is like a punch to the stomach. he doesn't care whom it is you're talking to either; your friends, his siblings, your siblings, a tutor, or an experienced warrior, the least he expects is for them to respect you. and he's relentless about it too, not backing down until you finish your sentence. “they weren’t done speaking."
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・・・・・・ ᴛꜱᴜ’ᴛᴇʏ
﹒ɞ escorts your rides it has become customary for the people to see tsu'tey accompanying you high and low–through the communal spaces and deep into the forest. his commanding hands constraining your pa'li as you struggle to conduct it, occasionally galloping behind you with his strong arms secured tightly around your waist to keep you from falling over. and he is even more fretful during your flights, hovering with his banshee close to yours, calling out directions. tsu’tey was chosen by the olo'eyktan himself to educate you in their ways, to teach your untrained eyes to see–and he’s nothing if not a proficient and devoted teacher. he's always ready to catch you.
﹒ɞ weaves your garments it really surprised you at first, catching sight of tsu'tey weaving a loincloth with his battle–hardened hands. craft-making is a proficiency for every na'vi, they are taught and encouraged to practice it from a young age, seeing that they do not partake in selling or buying their clothing and utilities from others. since you were not born into those traditions, tsu'tey gladly takes it into his own hands to weave and gift you pretty, colorful, and fitting loincloths, tops, and other items to adorn your avatar body. "is it to your liking ?" he puffs out his chest in pride as you voice your approval, and he also grunts on all the occasions you mention picking up on weaving for yourself.
﹒ɞ dresses you in your battle attire tsu'tey has always been gentle with you, and it's no different whenever he assists you in dressing and painting yourself for war and raids against the RDA. And you love it, the glide of his cold fingers against your warm skin, the grip on your shoulder as he adjusts the strapped sheath of your knife across your chest, the sight of him on his knees before you as he fastens your leg band. but in special, you love experiencing how much of an endearing person tsu'tey can be, for you only. "here, let me put it on you. turn around."
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・・・・・・ ᴊᴀᴋᴇ
﹒ɞ lights your cigarettes you have a frustrating habit of losing all of the lighters you've brought along to–more like snuck into–pandora. they're never inside your pockets, on your baggage, or in your wardrobe and shelf when you ransack them for it. after noticing that, jake started keeping a spare lighter and matches inside the pockets of his pants and backpack for whenever you need them. he beckons you closer, with a flame already lit, "i got you, sweetheart." and when you lean down, cigarette in between lips, he never misses the kiss placed on your chin.
﹒ɞ talks you out of trouble unconventionally, you and jake have always shared an attitude. your fuse, however, is much shorter than his. so he has to resort to pulling you into a corner and sweet talking you into not doing some dangerous stuff he would clearly do if given the chance. "yeah, but this isn't about me. i'm trying to stop you from getting killed." it might be more stress than he signed up for, but jake definitely wouldn't trade you for the world. and in his defense, he manages to hold your trigger finger alright, for the most part. those other times, he joins you in whatever it is you plan on doing.
﹒ɞ pulls on pitcher leaves for you to drink from after so many years, your boyfriend has developed a deep knowledge and connection with pandora. and so, jake readily teaches you what he's learned from the omatikayan people–half to impress you, and half because he doesn't want you going through what he did on his first day on the field. one of his favorite past times is to take you on an expedition to the forest, where he tugs on the leaf of a pitcher plant for you to drink rainwater from. and you have half a mind to remind him that you've done this enough times to know how it goes, but you simply comply and let him do as he pleases. and you also don't comment on how he sneakily shakes the leaf to get your white shirt wet.
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・・・・・・ ᴀᴏ'ɴᴜɴɢ
﹒ɞ looks after you ao'nung has always been a distant individual, and you were aware of that when you accepted his courting. but it pleasantly surprised you when, early into your relationship, he started to treat you more mindfully. "careful with your head, yawntu." he watches your blind spots during hunts, carries any heavy items you have to transport, accompanies you when out and about, keeps a hand on your back and arm at all times, and he doesn't eat before making sure you did. ao'nung's behavior is strikingly clear, especially in contrast to how detached he is from everyone else. and these gestures are all unconscious; to him, looking out for you is instinctual.
﹒ɞ maintains your weaponry from the moment you and ao'nung became an item, he took it upon himself to cater to your well-being and safety, and he does that by also maintaining your knife and spear. after every hunt or occasion, he gently takes your weapons from your hands or sheath, and sharpens the blade and repairs its handle. the last thing ao'nung wants is for your blade to fail you in a moment of need. despite coming with and leading any hunt you're present in, for his peace of mind, he makes sure to preserve your weapons' integrity for the unavoidable moment he might not be there to protect you.
﹒ɞ carries you around ao'nung proudly admits to spoiling you rotten, it is a clear sign of how good a mate he is to you. and at first, he never realized to what extent, until one night while returning to your dwelling, you leaned your body against his and tiredly demanded that he carry you inside. it was dark and only the two of you, so he complied. "but the marui is only a few feet away... fine, hop on." but now, despite grumbling a little, he always carries you on his back or arms to and from wherever place you want to go, to the entirety of the clan's bewilderment. but you don't overuse your power over him, so as not to embarrass him too much in front of his friends.
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・・・・・・ ʀᴏᴛxᴏ
﹒ɞ collects trinkets for you garments in rotxo's most humble opinion, you are unarguably the prettiest person in the whole clan. he knows how much you love to adorn pretty armbands, necklaces, and headpieces–it only adds to your charms. and so, as the dutiful boyfriend he is to you, he carefully scouts the surface of the sea bed in search of the prettiest and most iridescent shells, rocks, and crystals to weave into your garments. "i made you a new headpiece, yawntutsyìp. did you like it ?" whenever and wherever he is, rotxo makes sure to keep an eye out for flowers, beads, leaves, bones, talons, and teeth to add to the impressive collection of garments he has woven for you. seeing you walk around all dolled up, showing off his creations, is a sure way to make him all sheepish.
﹒ɞ fixes your appearance the most distinct trait of rotxo's love is, undoubtedly, his heedfulness toward you. he's always gazing, watching, looking out for you, and whenever he notices something out of place he's quick to fix it. he brushes your hair back into place, fastens your loosening armband, reaches over someone else to pull a leave from your hair, adjusts the belt of your loincloth, he's doing whatever it takes to tidy you up. and honestly, you love the gesture and he aims to keep you content.
﹒ɞ always at your beck and call he could be sleeping, at the bottom of the ocean, elbow deep into some important work; before you can even think about asking him to do something for you or with you, rotxo's already on his way to ask you if you need him. whatever it is, he's always down, no questions asked. "of course, i can! we can do this right now." sometimes your requests might be answered with a pout, a grimace, and even a few seconds of hesitation, but he'll still do the thing for you, even if to make sure you won't get yourself killed. besides, spending more time with his adorable mate is never a bad thing in rotxo's book.
Summary: You were his fascination, he desired you deeply.
Warnings: Yandere, fluff, stalking. Lemme know if I missed anything!
A/n: It’s super late but it’s my day 7 of @quicktosimp event! I really enjoyed coming out of my comfort zone for this event. This one is definitely not long and I’m not very confident about this because it’s my first ever time writing yandere but I really hope y’all enjoy it 🥺💕
You thought he was pretty, though his fascination over you was adorable. You weren’t surprised you had truly expected as much. Not many of the reef navi were familiar with humans, only the chief and the warriors who had first-hand experience and it was never a good experience.
It started slow. It was a nice thing, him asking you questions about yourself here and there, always being around and making sure you were safe when you traveled—little things like that. You never minded those things because they were simple questions and getting to know one another, was the most innocent way for things to go.
Soon the touching began, small touches such as pats on the head, gently pushing you alone, and grabbing your hands. Eventually, the touches grew more frequent and in different places. That was when you learned that Rotxo was touchy, very very touchy. He enjoyed touching and feeling your body, he liked how your squishy skin felt soft and pliable in his hands. Especially your thighs and breasts, it wasn’t anything sexual he just enjoyed how squishy you were in general. You thought it was innocent, never thinking bad about the curious Navi male. He enjoyed hugging your body and holding you and his personal favorite that you didn’t mind was him laying his head on your chest his face buried snuggly between your breasts. Such a relaxing comfort for you both.
After the touching came the gift-giving. He gave you gifts he had made himself, sweet little trinkets, bracelets, and clothing he was sure would fit your size. You were familiar with how courting worked you had seen it enough within the Omatikaya. All the happy mated pairs brought you joy but to experience it firsthand was on another level of things you’d expect.
The gifts were nonstop sometimes you’d find them outside your shack, and truthfully you’d never turned away the gifts because you knew exactly where they came from, and who they came from. How he even managed to get the gifts in the places he put them for you to find you'd never know but you never really cared if you were being honest. All you knew was that it felt nice. The gifts never stopped even once you both agreed to try it out. In moments you were alone, you always felt eyes on you, watching you. Never in a bad way, you always shook off the stares continuing with your duties to help out around the clan.
Gradually the stares stopped and soon you noticed that Rotxo was there, every twist and turn. On the days you felt alone you were never truly alone because he was always there. You never quite understood, couldn’t grasp the concept of how he knew, how he was always there even when you weren’t sure you needed him he was there. Never leaving, never going and if he left it was never for long he always came back. He truly felt like he was your protective in every sense of the word, and you'd be lying if you said it didn't make you feel even the slightest bit of love.
You weren’t sure how you never noticed until now, the way he made everything about you. He was always around his behaviors weren’t normal at all, and you knew you should say something. This level of devotion he had for you, the way he was protective over you and catered to your every waking need. Should have been troublesome really, should have made you speak to him. But part of you liked it, deep down some sick part of you enjoyed it. He loved you with a love that you weren't even sure classified as love anymore. Never any malicious intent just sweet and soft touches, pretty words, gift-giving, and many acts of affection. It was daunting really, a new level of love. A new meaning of love not only to him but to you.
Most days it felt as though you could feel him sinking into you, your movements becoming one. The steady realization that is not just you anymore, but Rotxo and you. Watching as everything else disappeared around you and here with each other despite the instability of it all it was so much better there. Within each other.
