I don’t know if you do requests but I had an idea based on a post I just saw.
So, So’Lek is dating reader, who is an avatar. One day they were fighting and So’Lek says hurting things like it was reader’s species fault for killing all his clan and at some point things get hot and So’Lek tells reader that since her specie killed all his clan she will help him to restart it (breeding kink).
Yes, I am open for Call of Duty and Avatar requests! Thank you, anon! 🖤 I hope you'll like this.
So'lek × female!Human/Avatar!Reader
cw: 18+; established romantic relationship; angst; big feelings; breeding kink; hurt/comfort
The argument erupts like a storm in the confined space of your shared shelter high in the resistance base—a rare, vicious clash born of exhaustion and old wounds.
You’re in your Avatar body, tall and blue-skinned but still carrying the weight of human guilt in your eyes. So’lek, usually so controlled, lets the pain spill out.
“You walk among us in stolen skin,” he snarls, voice low and cutting, pacing like a caged thanator. “Your kind came with fire and metal. They burned my clan, my home, my everything. And now you stand here, acting like you belong—”
The words hit harder than any physical blow ever could. Tears sting your eyes, anger and hurt twisting together behind your ribcage. “I’m not them, So’lek! I fight with you, bleed with you—how many times do I have to prove it?”
He stops, chest heaving, amber eyes wild with rage and something deeper—grief he rarely lets surface. For a moment you think he’ll walk away this time, and you can’t even blame him if he does. But instead he closes the distance in two long strides, crowding you against the woven wall, hands bracing on either side of your head.
“You want to prove it?” His voice drops to a dangerous growl, breath hot against your face. “Your species took everything from me. My clan is ash because of humans. So you—” his hand slides down to grip your hip firmly, pulling you flush against him—“you will help me get it back.”
The shift is sudden, electric. Anger transmutes into raw, desperate need. You feel him twitching hard against your thigh, the heat of him searing through the thin fabric of his loincloth while your own body answers traitorously, slickness gathering despite—or because of—the fury still crackling between you.
“Since your kind destroyed my bloodline,” he rasps against your throat, sharp teeth grazing skin, “you will help me restart it. You will take my seed, carry my children, rebuild what was stolen—one life at a time.”
The words should terrify you. Instead they flood you with molten heat. A broken, breathy moan escapes as he lifts you effortlessly, your legs wrapping around his waist on instinct while your tail lashes behind you.
Your queues seek and find each other, pink tendrils intertwining in a fierce yet familiar tsaheylu that slams his desire into you like a physical force: grief-soaked possessiveness, desperate need to reclaim, to create.
He doesn’t bother with gentleness tonight. Your own loincloth is torn aside; his follows. He guides the deeply flushed tip of his cock to your slick entrance and thrusts into you in one deep, slow stroke, filling you completely, ridges and veins dragging deliciously as he pins you to the wall. You cry out at the stretch, nails raking down his back.
“Say it,” he demands between claiming thrusts, each one driving deeper. “Say you will give me this. A family. Say you will take everything I give you.”
“Yes,” you gasp, clinging to him, anger and love and guilt all tangled together. “Yes, So’lek—please, breed me, ah, I’m yours—”
The bond flares white-hot at your words. His rhythm stutters; he growls your name like a prayer and a curse, hips snapping harder, faster. You feel it building in him through tsaheylu—the urgent, primal drive to spill deep, to mark you inside and out.
When you come, it’s shattering, walls clenching around him in waves that drag him over the edge with you. He buries himself to the hilt with a roar, pulsing hot and endless inside, flooding you so completely that you feel it in your womb.
He doesn’t pull out. Still hard, still spilling the last of it, he carries you to the bedding and lays you down beneath him, staying buried deep. His forehead presses to yours, breath ragged.
“I should not have said—” he starts, his voice now rough with regret.
You silence him with a kiss, slow and forgiving. “We both said things... but you meant the last part.”
His eyes search yours, vulnerable now that the storm has passed, ears flattening against his skiull. “I did... I do. Not just tonight. I want… a future. With you. Children who will know peace because we fought for it.”
You cup his face, feeling him twitch inside you at the tenderness. “Then we’ll rebuild it together,” you whisper. “Every single night, if we have to.”
A shaky laugh escapes him. He kisses you again—deep, reverent—and begins to move once more, slower and more deliberate this time.
The fight is forgotten.
Only the promise remains: to heal old wounds with new life. One fierce, loving night at a time.
so'lek can smell when you get worked up around him, and he has a very hard time holding himself back lately. with all the touching and sticking to him like glue that you've been doing. which leads to him hiding out in his own camp, and taking care of himself far far away from you
a big big biggest of thank yous to @bilismemora for being my beta for this and literally everything i write, ur da goat twin
wc - 1.6k+
watch it - so'lek masturbates to the thought of u. navi can smell arousal. male masturbation. jerking off. slight nipple play if u think about it. reader is blissfully unaware of the avatar bodies desires and hormones. but like everyone knows but reader. tamtey is ur bff yay!! itu mentioned bc hes a nosy ass mf
i have nothing to say, no shame in my game so'lek my sexy man. enjoyyyy!
It begins almost innocently.
Not too long after you show up at base, a new dreamwalker for them to make room for. You are bright, a bit loud, but there is warmth within you. Making friends with practically everyone.
He understands why Jakesully sent you. You are kind, but your aim is true. A gun bigger than your head slung over your shoulder and always finding its target.
He begins to like having you around. Tamtey certainly does, the two of you gossiping late into the night when he returns from patrol.
“It is late.” He dead pans, setting his weapons down.
You roll your eyes, “We're having a sleep over.”
He blinks, once then twice. “Sleep over.”
“Yes!” Tamtey chips, “We will share quarters and spend the night speaking and sharing stories.”
“Is this one of your sky people customs?”
“What does it matter, So'lek. It's fun. There needs to be more fun around here.”
He doesn’t press you further, heading to his room for the night.
You bloom with the resistance, leading them with all you've learned with the Omatikaya. Soon, there begins a silent change. Quiet enough for almost anyone to miss it, anyone but So’lek.
All the staring you do to all the wrong places. You never watch his face when he speaks, his eyes. Always focused on his hands, the curve of his thighs, the round of his back.
“Is there something you would like to say?” He says as you walk behind him on the forest floor.
“Hm? Oh nah, I'm good.” You look up to meet his gaze, and when he turns around, he feels the same stare return.
If he didn't know better he would think you're hunting him, stalking him as you trail back. He thinks you do it just so you can ogle him in peace. He lets you, and doesn't say anything.
Then comes the lingering touches that serve no real purpose. A hand on his when he gives you anything, reaching to brush his fingers to grab whatever it is he's giving you. Thighs touching when you sit side by side
Almost innocently.
He watches your eyes flutter, tail thumping wildly behind you at his praise. It could be nothing more than a "well done" or "clean shot" and your tail always gives it away. He finds it endearing, to be so unaware of this body you live in to the point where you don't know what you should try to hide.
You live very loudly, purely.
Then the touches get bolder, heavier, hotter. You'll place a hand on his arm, squeezing gently. Or your tail will find its way to his leg, or his own tail, curling as much as you dare around it. You’ll get flustered at this, pulling it away with two hands and apologizing. And So’lek can only give you a nod, mumbling it's okay.
You don't even realize just how far gone you are into the haze that's sticking to you, how you're now acting with him. You grab onto his hands, pulling him into every which way and direction. Not letting go even when you get to whenever it is you take him.
So'lek feels like a damn that is going to burst. Like the heat of a thousand suns is boiling inside of him, chipping away at its insides and beginning to fracture him at the seams. Hot molten lava spilling between the cracks of a foundation he has spent so long building.
What pains him most is that you really do not know what you're doing. This is not a body you have grown in, no elders to teach you the ways, no friends to chide you for behavior you don't even understand is implying more.
To all other na’vi, you're staking your claim on him, making it aware you want him. It seems only you, in this dreamwalker body, are unaware of the fact.
He doesn't know what to do with you and he fears one step closer and he will crack. All his sanity will fly out into the sky like a leaf, the world will be sucked out from under him and he will submit to his desires.
He isn't stupid, not ignorant to your beauty. You are attractive, very much so. He knows some of the young Aranahe hunters have tried their luck. Only to roll their eyes when he enters a space and your full attention is on him and only him.
“Courting then?” Itu says, motioning vaguely in your direction a few feet away as you giggle with Tamtey.
So’lek grunts. “That is none of your concern.”
Itu raises a brow, but doesn't press.
So’lek can literally smell it on you. The arousal that pools between your legs when you look at him for too long. It fuels his ego, knowing just looking at you has this much of an effect. And makes things so much harder for him, literally.
It becomes impossible to focus at base when you choose to stand next to him, the sweet scent blooming while he talks. He watches as a few other navi sniff the air, eyes flicking over you, clearing their throat.
You are completely unaware, nodding to directions and where they’re to send today for patrol.
“Do you want to meet me later, fly around some?” You ask him after everyone scatters to their own duties.
So’lek adjusts his chest piece, tightening the straps where they've come loose. “Not today. I have much to do.”
You deflate just a bit before giving him a smile. “No problem!” Turning on your heel and grabbing the rest of your gear. He notices the sway of your hips, different then usual. Slow, low, almost heavy.
Eywa help him.
He distances from you for a while. Still not knowing if you mean any of what you do, or like young navi, you are not yet accustomed to what your body needs. What you need certainly can not be him. Not in actuality, you only do this to him because he is near, because he is familiar to you.
Your body is pressing you to fulfill its natural desires, and so'lek is the nearest one you can take it out on. Simple as that.
This does not stop So'lek from returning to his own camp, deep in the mountains, nose still full of your scent, thinking of you.
He tosses and turns in his hammock. Unable to shake the image of you from his mind. You were too touchy today. Whining the whole time at base, massaging your thighs after being on the back of your ikran for hours on end.
“So’lek,” You had said, laid out on the floor, breath heaving as you tried to reach the back of your thighs.
He paused at the doorway, the airlock closing with a soft hiss. “Yes?”
“Do you mind reaching the knot on my thigh? It's killing me and I can't reach it.”
His mouth went dry, watching you silently, refusing to look to where your thighs were splayed out, laying on your stomach, sweat making you shine. The loincloth twisted under you so that he was almost certain one more move of your body and he would be able to see everything.
“I'm sorry, I have to go.” Is what he said, turning back to exit and leaving you pouting.
He groans on the memory. Scolds himself for being so weak to his own self. But oh you looked devine. The curve of your spine, the way your fingers danced on your own skin, the soft splay of your ass. You are going to kill him.
His hands move on their own, grasping for his cock that hardens in the loincloth as a response to the memory of you in his mind.
He tears it away with a hiss, letting the cool air smooth the angry purple tip. Now fully hard, he silently apologizes for what he is about to do.Fisting his thick cock in his hand and beginning to roll his hips into it. Slow and deliberate.
The image of you flashes in his mind once more, the sway of your hips. Your pretty voice. The curve of your lips. God your lips. He would give anything to have them wrapped around him.
He groans, dick twitching as he chases the high of you. Pumping himself faster as he meets his own trusts. It's wet and obscene, but he doesn't care.
He closes his eyes. Remembering you again, the soft whine in your voice, how you say his name so perfectly. How you would sound under him taking it so well as you cry out for more. He would give it to you, give it so good it would ruin any other male for the rest of your life.
That'll show those stupid hunters.
He opens his eyes, taking his free hand to gently press and pull at his nipple. A broken moan coming from his lips. He won't last, not like this. Not with you in his mind.
He thinks of your smell, the way it blooms so sweetly before him, and you're unaware of just how badly it all is affecting him.
He pinches harder, a shudder coursing through his body as his cock throbs in his hand, pressure building in his stomach, heart beat thumping in his ear. His thumb rubs over the fat tip, while he bites his lip, trying not to let himself whine.
“Fuck fuck fuck.” He curses, hot white pleasure coursing through him as his hips stutter.
He cums with a low groan, almost guttural moan of your name. Slowly pumping himself dry as he watches his own cum dribble into his hand. Catching his breath as he weakly rides his orgasm out.
He definitely needs you to stay away, for his sake. He is crumbling.
Summary: So'lek doesn't want to risk impregnating you in such dangerous times, but you are desperate for him to cum inside, and have a way of.. convincing him..
Warnings: DUBCON ELEMENTS (So'lek tells reader to get off, reader doesn't, but he doesn't actually want her to get off anyway) fem!reader, p in v sex, riding, allusions to thigh riding, cunnilingus, and fingering- alot of cum... female and male cum.. reader is a MENACE, so'lek is a simp, some fluffy moments, very brief breeding kink, brief positive and negative pregnancy and children talk, liberal use of italics, implied sarentu!reader but can be reader otherwise, lmk if I missed anything!
Notes: I don't think I've written a proper fic in.. over a year.. aaaaa
Wc: 1.5k
You are a seductress. Lithe and writhing atop him like some kind of personal test from Eywa, a test of his resolve, perhaps?
It's hot, so hot, burning. Your skin sears him when you touch and he cannot help but wish to be charred even more. So'lek is a little envious of your stamina- you've been at this for a good while now, riding him into the ground, and whilst you have reached your end numerous times, whether it be on his mouth or his cock, he has yet to finish... And this frustrates you.
It is not for lack of desire, no no, far from it, So'lek finds himself close to release within a few minutes of being enveloped in your warm, wet, inviting centre… he often must actively fight the urge to finish sooner than he'd like to. But you, are a greedy thing, you want him, every part of him. You want his cum inside you.
So'lek finds it so hard to deny you anything, if you asked for the moon, he would fetch it, and the stars for good measure. There is something, a sparkle in your eyes, that he finds himself soulfully obligated to obey. You are the sun that lights up his days and the warmth that he holds close at night, and he knows he is no better, just as greedy, he has demanded you release over and over and over again on his fingers, or when rubbing yourself against his strong thighs- and he will no doubt do this again.. but..
Neither of you are unaware of the potential consequences of him spending inside you.. a child. An innocent thing, vulnerable. Undeserving of the world they might be born into. Pandora is dangerous, not in the natural way, of poisonous plants and predatory animals. The RDA plague the land and destroy all they touch, both of you are well aware of this, you both actively fight against the RDA, together as one.
And you! How vulnerable you would be if pregnant- So'lek has many times imagined a number of terrible scenarios that may occur with you, heavily pregnant, and him not there to protect you.
One day, he thinks, he would like a family with you. One day, when the RDA has been wholly and ruthlessly purged from the Western Frontier, at least.
And so, until this ideal was reality, So'lek had forgone releasing inside you at all, pulling out just before his orgasm could fully reach him and spilling himself on your thighs, or belly instead, grunting and groaning and falling on top of you in a heap.
But you, poor, hard done to thing, are desperate for it. You squeeze his pecs with both hands, grappling him as leverage to bounce above him- he can see his cock, throbbing almost painfully, slipping in and out of you as you roll your hips. He groans roughly at the sight, holding your hips with both hands, the sounds, wet and gooey. You have always been a leaky, dripping thing. He could but whisper in your ear about how hard you make him and you'd be leaving a sticky trail anywhere you went- and this is normally a point of triumph for So'lek, that he can so easily please his woman so thoroughly.
Right now, it is a vice he wishes would not affect him so. He feels it, throbbing at the tip of his dick, swollen and thick inside you. The base of his cock, where your bodies frequently meet, slapping skin lewdly, is covered in a syrupy mess of fluid that squelches each time you roll your hips, and you make sure to arch your back in such a way, shining above him like a star, that your perfect breasts jiggle and bounce just inches away from his mouth. You are a tease, where did you learn such things? Certainly not from him, surely. The sight makes his toes curl.
Oh, how he wants to indulge you, though. He can see you smirking, you know how close he is. You are simultaneously impatient and patient. Able to ride him for hours, can he hold out that long? He wants to give in so desperately, let go and fill you up impossibly deep, stuff you full so that your body would accept no other but him.
It takes enormous effort to speak, form words rather than mindless grunts. “Get off-” So'lek has to force the words out like he's been punched, “O-off, stop moving.” Don't. Keep going. “I-I will finish-”
You shake your head and bite your bottom lip. Oh, minx.
“No, fill me up, I want it,” You words are similarly rushed and desperate, just as affected by him as he is by you. “C'mon, do it, please please, c'mon, I want it inside-”
So'lek forces his eyes shut. He cannot bare to tear his gaze away from you, but he must. You sparkle with sweat on your brow, and your eyes are full of excited anticipation. Eywa give him strength, he hates to deny you.
“So'lek-” His eyes flash open.
“Please-!” You whine, whine like you are the one suffering here. “Pleaaaase, please, please-” His heart almost breaks, you are so eagre, you deserve it, he does too. “C'mon, do it, please, please, I need it, inside me, fill me up, I wanna feel you dripping down my thighs, So'lek, please, I love you, fill me up, I want you to make a mess of me-”
So'lek hears your words, each time you open your mouth he feels his resolve waiver. Thoughts race through his mind- Why shouldn't he? Why should the Sky People take even this pleasure from him? Both of you have a right to be together in this way. If the RDA want to wipe the Na'vi people out, surely then, you should be.. actively making more Na'vi.
He's so close to surrender, you see it in his eyes, you tend to blabber when close to orgasm, and so you lean back and let your mouth run, focusing on the sensation of him writhing underneath you;
“Please So'lek, I'll die without it, I want you to cum inside me so much it leaks and I can push it back inside of myself-”
The noise that So'lek emits lasts several seconds, and is positively pathetic. A deep, hoarse groan, with an edge of a whine to it, as he lets go and finally, finally, you feel his cock twitch and he releases inside you. He thought, hoped, he was harder to sway than this, but the image of you stuffing your fingers back inside your pussy after he's thoroughly used you, to make sure none of his seed is wasted, hits him like an Angtsìk. So'lek gives in, let's himself be taken away by the vast rapture of your form against his own. Big hands come down to feverishly grip at your rear, squeezing so hard, pulling you down to meet his cock like it's painful to be even a centimetre apart. In a way, it is.
His orgasm triggers your own, the warm, full feeling of his cum deep inside you, how suddenly the wet noises that eminate from your joined bodies become louder- there's so much of it- you arch your back to the sky and gasp and whine, your wonderful pussy clenches down, So'lek's grip on your bottom tightens and for a moment his voice breaks, his eyes wide and fixated on your cunt voraciously swallowing his release.
You keep rolling your hips through your own orgasm, blissful, euphoric, riding out the waves of pleasure. So'lek feels like he's just emptied his entire soul into you via his dick, exhausted, he lets his head drop back down onto the ground.
However lovely being inside you is, he feels so sensitive- So'lek squeezes your hips to stop moving, pants and looks up at you.
This time, you do as you're told, hips coming gently to a halt. So'lek shudders out a sigh, hazy and spent.
His gaze is on the ceiling, but isn't really focused anywhere- he feels he needs to sleep for a week, preferably with you in his arms, so you both may recreate something similar when he has regained his energy.
Meanwhile, you are being gentle, for once, moving yourself atop him to lay upon his chest, in such a way that his cock is still tucked away, warm and safe, inside your welcoming body. Are you as tired as him? Probably not. So'lek longs to know how you can go through so much physical activity and lust after more still. But, you are graciously letting him rest, for now… his hands come up to wrap around your shoulders as you bury your head in the crook of his neck.
You lay in comfortable silence together. A wet, sticky silence, but silence nonetheless. So'lek finds his mind wandering to the All Mother. He thanks her over and over again mentally for making you the way you are, personally shaped and crafted for him to adore. Though, he is unsure what he has done to earn such a gift.
He hears the wind outside. It's quiet. His body temperature is finally cooling, you are nuzzling his neck and purring into it, stroking idle patterns on his shoulder. He is still inside you, he can feel your heartbeat thrumming in your centre.
“You are not getting off anytime soon, are you?”
You snicker into his skin and look up at him. Big, gorgeous eyes that sparkle mischievously.
Summary: So'lek has accepted his life as an outsider, no clan of his own to call home. For years nothing has consumed him more than the need to exact revenge on the RDA who stole everything from him. Yet somehow all of that changes when he meets you.
Warnings: explicit sexual content MDNI, trauma, mentions of death and war, angst, injuries, obsessive So'lek, lust, p in v, oral, swearing, marking, possessive thoughts, rough, jealousy, yearning, breast play, alcohol consumption, dirty talk, etc (not all inclusive)
You do not need to have played the game to read this story. I did my best to include context clues that make it clear enough.
Disclaimer: I am no So'lek expert so I made some educated guesses based on what I learned playing the game. If you see mistakes....no you don't.
The first instance is innocent. Something that So’lek can attribute to mere chance and furthermore nothing he expected to have any consequence on him. Meeting you is unexpected.
It happens after a long mission. He had drawn off firepower from the RDA so that one of the Sarentu could infiltrate and shut down one of the drill sites. Not only was the objective completed but it also seemed to have a positive effect on their relations with the Zeswa clan. They are impressed by the action, even more so drawn to a proper alliance between them and the resistance as the effects of Sky Demon technology has worsened on the their plains.
And so for the first time So’lek gets to witness the Zeswa home. Only there to discuss further relations with the Tsahik and Olo’eyktan, he tries to keep his curiosity to a minimum. However, it is difficult to not be swept away by the beauty of the upper plains. Even more so with the open comradery and community that is exhibited among the clan. The Zeswa are known for being a loud people, proud and brave while also fundamentally aware of possessing such skills.
They are a direct contrast to the Aranahe in that aspect. Everywhere he walks there are groups laughing boisterously, young warriors sparing while others cheer. Even when they fight there is not the usual demeanor So’lek is accustomed to. An air of playfulness is present. It is not weighed down by the same bitter thirst for revenge his own training exhibits.
There are colorful tents and kelku all positioned around caring for the hibernating Zakru. These giant beasts lay in the warm embrace of sunshine as their smaller counterparts laugh and rush around them. A foreign yet delightful relationship to behold.
His meeting with Minang and Nesim is short. No real negotiations are needed as they too are quick to join a fight. It is one of the things that So’lek has always appreciated about the Zeswa. Unlike the Aranahe they require no convincing when it comes to defending their home. If anything, they only wait to see which allies will be worthy of fighting alongside them. Fear is not a common ideal among them.
It is when So’lek has paid his respect to their leaders and begins making his long trek home, that he hears a voice.
“Are you going to leave it like that?”
So’lek’s ears perk, tail stopping midair. When a few seconds pass it becomes clear that the voice behind him is in fact addressing him and not a clan member. Slowly turning on his heels he looks down to find you. A female at least a head shorter than him wearing traditional Zeswa colors and looking up at him with an inquisitive brow raised. Despite your diminutive stature, you blink up at him without an ounce of concern.
“Your arm.” You clarify and much to his surprise he looks down to where you’re pointing and finds that there is a sizable gath along his bicep. It must have occurred somewhere between drawing the firepower out and taking down an amp suit with his bare hands. There is a tinge of pain now that you’ve brought attention to it, but it’s nothing in comparison to what he has endured in the past.
“It is minor.” He responds slowly, unsure of what answer you are expecting from him. Most clan members among the Aranahe barely acknowledge him. Not that they can be blamed. He is a stranger with a gun in hand and a permanent scowl in place. Neither has it ever truly bothered him. However, you seem to be in no mood to let him out of his impromptu conversation and it has him slightly on edge.
You scoff, soft features already laced into an amused expression. “Minor or not it needs to be stitched.”
Are you going to make him visit the healer’s tent? There would be no need. The hospital outpost within Resistance headquarters is sterile and inhabited by Sky People that barely understand the fundamentals of Na’vi anatomy, but it has always done the job before. Big or small injury, he has remained in one piece.
So’lek keeps a neutral expression, only allowing himself the release of shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “Minang has other responsibilities.”
You roll your eyes and a short laugh escapes your throat. “Men,” you mutter under your breath, just quiet enough that he starts to wonder if he has imagined it. “Come. I will fix it.”
He doesn’t immediately move at your command. After a few steps you turn over your shoulder to still see him standing there and it seems as if you are trying to hold laughter back at the sight of him. Although, So’lek can’t fathom what could possibly be funny about him.
“I do not bite. Come.” Voice fused with a playful laugh, you gesture once more for him to follow. So despite his better judgment, So’lek trails behind you, shortening his stride so as to not clip your heels, until he is gestured into a large tent. There are only a couple healers left in the tent. One woman is organizing the herbs while a male healer inspect a gash upon a man’s leg. Both of them turn to exchange a smile with you upon entering.
Smiles that waiver when they spot him towering behind.
“Sit down.” You command, pointing to a mat on his left. Reluctantly So’lek obeys, but his tail is already whipping with impatience. The others will be expecting him back soon. It is only a matter of time before Priya is bugging him over the radio for results on his talk with the Zeswa. It is not as if he is about to bleed out or lose his arm from waiting a few more hours for stitching.
Regardless, you keep an eye on him while gathering a needle, thread, and the proper ointments. You’re checking to make sure he doesn’t run off and you are nowhere near trying to hide it. In fact, when his eyes meet yours, you give a chipper smile. He holds back a sigh. There will be no escaping this tent soon.
The same upbeat attitude is not fully shared among the other Na’vi present in the tent. They remain polite but on guard. By the time you are kneeling next to him they have one by one created excuses for needing to leave. It’s just the two of you now.
“Let me see.” In usual fashion you demand, although voice soft. So’lek watches as you examine his arm, small fingers curling under his bicep carefully. The touch lights something in his stomach until once again he is wondering how long this visit will be. “My name is y/n.”
The sudden admission has him zoning back in. His golden eyes peek to see you from his peripherals. When the ointment is lathered over his wound So’lek is too busy turning the name over in his head to stop himself from flinching.
“This is the part where you tell me your name.” Your gaze has risen from where it was inspecting his gash to now inspect his motionless expression instead. So’lek bites back the urge to swallow the lump in his throat. Wonderful. This may be a waste of his time but that is no excuse to be rude, especially among members of a new alliance.
Social interaction, however, has never been one of his strong suits. He had spent years in the forest surviving alone after his clan was wiped out. Many days the only interactions he had with another being was the prey he hunted, diligently whispering the prayer of thanks over their dead bodies before preparing a meal for one. And even since then, So’lek is vexed to admit that a majority of his conversations have been with pestering Sky Demons at resistance headquarters who ask far too many questions and lag in recognizing his distaste for such interaction.
“It is So’lek.”
“I know who you are.” You shrug, back to focusing on spreading the ointment. His hairless brows pull together.
“If you know then why did you ask?” Except, you technically didn’t ask. You urged him to share, a distinction you graciously don’t correct.
“Because that is what people do when they meet each other. Just because I know who you are does not mean you shouldn’t share your name with me.” Yet another custom he has become out of touch with. Years away from a true Na’vi clan may have broken him in more ways than he had originally imagined. And yet, you don’t appear to be offended. There is a sparkle in your eyes, something he can’t quite analyze but it holds a lightness he’s unfamiliar with.
The ointment you spread smells sweet. Almost like the pod fruit he picks near headquarters for lunch. Or perhaps the nectar he can occasionally finds while traveling. Whatever it is, it’s far better than the usual stench of medicine used at headquarters. Those strangely packaged doses have a thick texture and sterile smell that always makes his stomach turn.
But this…this is almost nice. Even as the lathered touch burns along his wound.
“Your Sarentu friend comes to visit often. They stop by for a meal and materials, even socializing upon occasion. But I never see you.” The needle gracefully slips beneath his skin but So’lek can barely focus on the sensation. “I was starting to think that you were a myth created by them for a good story.”
So’lek is at a loss for words. What exactly is your point? Are you suggesting he should be spending more time among the Zeswa. It is the Sarentu that had received an invitation to help, not him. Up until now he has remained respectful of your clan’s space. It is only for an invited meeting that he finds himself here to witness your home for the first time. But the way you talk about it makes him almost feel guilty for not dropping by earlier.
Would the Zeswa people have welcomed him if he had? Give him a smile as he cooked a meal here or crafted a better bow as the Sarentu often do? He’s not sure if he would know how to respond if they did. Your attention has already proven to be hard enough to reciprocate as is.
“I attend to responsibilities at Resistance Headquarters.”
“So I’ve heard.” You hum. There is something else in your voice, some hidden message in your tone but So’lek can’t decipher it for the life of him. So once again he is caught wondering what your intentions are in bringing it up. Perhaps nothing. You are strangers to one another. Just because you have gone out of your way to heal him does not mean you care whether or not he graces the clan with his presence. For all he knows, making conversation is a polite practice for good bedside manner.
Your precision is admirable. A calm consistent draw and pull of the needle to create perfectly tight and even stitches sealing him up. Far better work than that done by flimsy Sky People hands at headquarters. And while their small faces often pinch in concentration when stitching, your features remain relaxed. Even tranquil, with just the softest of smiles present.
In a way it almost causes his own demeanor to follow suit. That is if it weren’t for your distracting appearance. It has been so long since he has witnessed true Na’vi crafted attire so he can’t really be blamed for running his eyes over your intricate top of bright reds and oranges. It’s only when you shift slightly that he realizes how scantily clad your chest is with only the decorative fabric. And it shouldn’t matter. It doesn’t matter.
Nudity is not a big concern among the Na’vi. They are not ashamed of their bodies. But it’s clear he has been hanging around tawtute far too much as he feels the need to shift his gaze away every time that flimsy covering slides one way or another. And where they land, however, is just as distracting. The soft curves of your faces, long dark lashes that blanket your fixated gaze. Even your hair that is entirely unrestrained with only a few flowers woven along your crown, allowing it to fall down to your waist in soft waves.
Staring isn’t a big deal. Or at least it shouldn’t be, but there is something about letting his eyes land for too long that puts him on edge. Perhaps it is some lingering adrenaline from the fight that still has him on alert. Even has his stomach twisting into weird knots. Usually by this point these effects have worn off, but So’lek tries not to read too far into it.
A hiss escapes his lips without permission when fingers suddenly press into his shoulder blade.
“By Eywa…” You marvel, now coming to press against the area harder even as he hisses his discomfort. “You are wound very tight. There is a giant knot here.”
So’lek’s teeth dig into the inside of his lips to keep back further hissing, but there is no controlling the writhing of his tail. Despite all of his efforts, however, it seems that none of this is of consequence to you. You are more than content to ignore his pain and dig further into the muscle in order to examine the damage better.
“It is just…tense.” He defends, finally veering away from your hands.
“That is a nice way of putting it.” You scoff, shaking your head as if he has told a joke. “It needs to be massaged.”
So’lek blinks back at you. Massaged? Of course it would be nice to stop having that blaring pain in his shoulder but what is he supposed to do about it? It is simply a consequence of pulling back his bow so many times, or even from slotting the stock of a rifle against that shoulder. But then you are reaching out and it hits him. This is you offering?
Out of reflex he pulls away. Bottom lip caught between your teeth, that amusement paints your features again as you glare back at him. It’s the same look a parent gives their child when they are misbehaving. It has his ears twitching, tailing curling in anticipation. For what, he does not know.
“It is fine.” So’lek assures you, holding a hand up when you try to reach him again.
“Do not be ridiculous. It is not fine. That is, unless you are okay with letting it go until you are unable to move your arm without pain.” You have him there and you know it, watching him patiently until he will finally give in to your superior logic.
You are being a good healer, no doubt far more observant of his state than anyone that has ever treated him among the resistance. And it’s true that restricted mobility would cause a direct conflict to his plans of revenge against the RDA. What point is infiltrating a base if he can’t even pull back the string of his bow? So So’lek can’t quite understand why the idea of conceding to this massage has his heart racing.
Perhaps there is a personal aspect to it that makes him weary. He does not know you and you do not know him, no matter what stories the Sarentu has supposedly shared. You’ve just about wrestled him into this tent to get mended and now you are fully prepared to massage his pain away. To let those delicately soft hands run over exposed skin, bring him relief in a way no one else ever does.
His heart rate is far beyond what it should be outside of battle.
“Are you afraid I will hurt you?” Brow bones raising, you give him a look that says you know exactly how that idea attacks his male pride. Regardless, So’lek can’t hold back a scoff.
“No.”
“Then there really is no reason to be stubborn now, is there?” It’s a rhetorical question because only a few seconds after you are settling behind him and grabbing a basin of massage oil.
For the first time since meeting you, you hesitate when your fingers just barely brush his tactical vest. Immediately that touch is pulled away and you fumble to find an angle that will reach the knot in his shoulder without touching the gear.
It’s not the first time he has witnessed this hesitation among the Na’vi. The vest is intimidating, tacked on with a radio, ammunition, and many other pieces of Sky People technology that is entirely foreign to you. He remembers that caution in himself the first time he tried to hold a gun. Despite your carefree and pushy nature, this mysterious article seems to put you on edge too.
“Do you want me to remove it?”
“What?”
“The vest.” Daring to peek over his shoulder he finds your bottom lips trapped again before a simple nod is given his way. He sets down the vest a distance away with his gun too. Anything to make you feel a little more at ease. Ironically, however, it is him that is left feeling vulnerable without the heavy piece, only a thin swooping necklace over his bare chest now. Has it really been so long since he has removed his armor? Some nights he forgets to unclasp the vest before exhaustion takes him, but he has always blamed that on pure circumstance, not any sign of associated comfort.
Your apprehension is washed away as if it was never there in the first place, now that you are facing only bare skin. The oil that you begin lathering over his shoulder smells strongly of dapophet but there is something else mixed in there that he can’t place. A strong essence that has memories long forgotten tugged to the forefront of his mind. Images of his clan, his family. Is it possible that the Zeswa use similar herbs in their medicine as that of his clan’s tsahik?
That thought is immediately interrupted when fingers begin to dig into the muscle again. A sharp agony pings through him, his muscles naturally tensing to protect the injured area. However, it is all for not when you continue to dig at the area mercilessly. So’lek usually considers his pain tolerance to be quite high but somehow this pain is so deeply rooted that he can’t stop himself from veering away. Even when you tug his shoulder back towards you, a hiss escapes his lips.
“Hold still.” You demand.
He tries. He really does try because squirming like this is borderline embarrassing. He is a trained warrior for Eywa’s sake! A little massage should not have him writhing like this. Regardless it seems this knot has gotten far worse than he could have imagined.
“It really is fine.” So’lek grits out between clenched teeth. Star above, it is painful! He’s about ready to let the injury worsen if it means escaping your merciless hands.
“Are you going to stop squirming like a child or will I need to pin you down to do this?”
He can hear the amused smile in your voice but that’s not what his mind fixates on. Instead So’lek is horrified to witness how quickly his trail of thoughts leads to sinful places. How fast he can conjure up images of your smooth thighs cinched around his waist, your long hair falling over one shoulder to tickle at his spine. How easily he could quickly flip you over until he is the one that pins-
No. He must stop! A seasoned warrior well into his adult years should not create such innuendos so easily. That is for children, perhaps his years as a teenager where his hormones were wildly out of control. Back then he had a reason, but what excuse does he have now?
“Better.” You murmur and it’s then that he realizes his dirty thoughts have somehow managed to distract him from the pain, autopilot keeping him in place.
His jaw still clenches as you prod at the muscle, but eventually pain gives way into something else. Skilled fingers slowly ring out the agony he did not realize was there until his shoulders are sagging in relief. Your technique is meticulous, methodic. For such small hands you have quite the plethora of strength, wearing down his body until it is going lax.
And then there is a tune. A song so quiet that it takes him a moment to realize it is you humming behind him. That foreign melody captivates him easily. Ears perking to catch every change of note, So’lek drowns in your sweet voice. And sweet it is, no better sound has he heard in years. So much of his daily life is accompanied by yapping tawtute and distant RDA bombs.
There are times where the lab tawtute put on records to play but that music is offending in comparison to the theme you weave now. It reminds him of home. Not even specifically of his clan per say, but just the feeling of having a home. Of having a community to bask in.
Rich melody and trained fingers working in kind, So’lek melts beneath you. For the first time in a long time he remembers the difference between surviving and healing. Pleasure radiates from every touch you bestow and So’lek begins to slump, limbs feeling like noodles. Lost in the tranquility of the moment he doesn’t originally catch how concerning his thoughts become. How easily his body starts to yearn for your touch in different ways.
How easily he starts to yearn for you.
The interaction was innocent. And So’lek stands by that fact. You were pulled away abruptly by others demanding your attention and although it took him a few seconds to come down from that strange high, he had gathered his things and left the Zeswa with only your rushed goodbye as parting.
He had shaken it off as a weird experience, just the shock of true Na’vi medicine after being corrupted by tawtute practice for so long. However, when days pass and his mind keeps dragging him back towards that event, So’lek knows he is in trouble.
Were it just about the exceptional effects of Na’vi healing he wouldn’t be so concerned. After all, his shoulder has never felt better, his mobility and flexibility far beyond what he has done in a long time. So it would only be natural to have a fixation on something that rendered such positive results.
But it’s the dreams that worry him. Dreams that start out as intangible images of your long hair, soft hands over his skin. Things that could be shrugged off as a wrong mix of hormones messing with his subconscious, potentially a faceless woman it imitates. But then they become more intense, uncomfortably vivid. Stories woven by his subconscious that are not only specific but inherently sexual.
He dreams of how your lips would taste against his own. He dreams of your body pressed against him, of an intimacy far beyond what he could ever describe in words. Even the way his scent would beautifully coalesce with your own upon scent marking his territory.
It is borderline madness. So’lek has only ever met you once! One time where you simply did your job as a healer. Creating fantasies out of such a small instance is truly pathetic. Of course it has been a while since he has been intimate with a woman but these feelings have not risen in years, especially not in a way so close to obsessive that it has his head reeling.
And yet the dreams morph into the tangling of his actual conscious thoughts as he tries to go about his day. When he is sneaking up on a sturmbeest he’s wondering if you even remember that short hour together. When he is trading materials with the Sarentu his mind trails to guessing what activities are filling your day. And when he talks to Priya, well he tunes her completely out because surviving your nervous rambling is only doable when he’s imagining how the sun reflected off of your hair. And frankly, anything to keep is patience while talking to the purple haired tawtute is approved as far as he’s concerned.
Maybe he really has been alone for far too long. He is at an age where courting and mating is a common motivation and so his body is pushing him towards the first female that has given him attention. It is biological. It must be. Once his hormones have died down all will return back to normal and he can forget you ever even met.
That’s what he tells himself for the first week. So’lek stomps down the day dreaming as fast as possible and concentrates on his true goal, riding this planet of the RDA. He is in cohorts with the Sarentu and takes down every RDA tawtute and vehicle in his line of sight. But that doesn’t stop a nasty urge from sticking. Just this tiny idea of an injury bringing him back to the Zeswa healer’s tent. It seems that your duties primarily reside there and so it would be more than likely that he would find himself under your tender care again.
And it’s hideous the way this fucked up idea becomes a fantasy for him. He is a warrior! A man of honor and courage. No warrior should ever long for an injury, no matter how minor. Especially when it could take him away from helping those who need him most, away from defending his home. So So’lek won’t say he falls from the tree on purpose.
He is collecting shell fruit up in the red trees. The proximity to Zeswa camp is only a coincidence. Of course his agility is usually far beyond letting himself get scrapped up and falling a few branches down, but everyone has bad days. The only sensible thing to do while so far away from resistance headquarters, is seek a healer from the Zeswa.
He can be quick. In and out with little interference on their daily activities.
So’lek maintains a neutral mask when he reaches the healer’s tent. His greeting is polite but detached with every clan member that passes him by. However, there is no stopping the disappointment that lowers his tail when it is a different female that ushers him in for treatment. You are nowhere to be found in the spacious tent. Just a few elderly Na’vi receiving care and one child getting a scraped up knee bandaged.
Truly he is grateful for the help received. Ka’xhori is the name of this healer and she does quick ,but quality, work on his bleeding thigh. Several times her curious stare is caught by the strange devices on his vest and even the darker stripes across his forehead. She makes conversation for a few minutes but when his answers become choppy and short, she silently resigns to his lack of interest.
It’s towards the ending of the wrapping that he spots you from a distance. Just through the opening of the tent he catches you returning with a group of friends, shortbow in hand. A male to your right carries a fresh kill and the female to your left exuberantly tells you a story.
Your eyes sparkle in delight, avidly drinking in the story. And then your friends says something that elicits the most beautiful sound he has ever heard. You laugh, a laugh quite different than the teasing one you had exposed him to the first time. This one comes from your gut, a belly laugh that has your eyes crinkling and teeth on full display. There is a vibrance to this demeanor that has him drawn like a moth to a flame.
You’re babbling back at your friend with that same enthusiastic energy until both of you are struggling to not collapse to the ground in a fit of giggles. Even the male carrying the kill can’t defeat such infectious sounds of joy. Complete unabashed delight. No pretense. No mask, just a blinding smile he may never be able to unsee.
“That should hold for a while.” Ka’xhori says, tugging on the leaf bandage for good measure.
“My deepest gratitude.” His deep voice responds on autopilot. Most likely it is not convincing enough but So’lek is already shuffling out of the tent before she can respond.
Despite the natural tugging in your direction, So’lek turns to the trail opposite. This obsession has gone on long enough. He thought that perhaps coming back here would only prove it to be some silly crush born out of dramatizing your first interaction together but now he sees this is only becoming more dangerous by the second. It’s best to cut himself off now while he still can.
With a bit of distance and discipline he will be back on track.
“Hey stranger!”
So’lek pauses at your call, turning around to find you already leaving your friends behind to approach him. It takes everything within him to not reflect on the sway of your hips, the confident yet eased strut you exhibit.
“Kaltxi [hello].” He murmurs, giving the proper touch to his forehead in respect.
A giggle catches in your throat at his formality. “Kaltxi.” You mimic his tone, but return the gesture. “How is the shoulder? I hope I didn’t rough you up too much.”
Only psychologically. Only planting some brain rotting disease he can not rid himself of.
“It is much improved.”
Hands placed on your hips, that response seems to do the trick. However, it does not satisfy you enough to allow him an escape from this conversation.
“So you’ve come back for more business, then?”
So’lek tumbles for a proper excuse.
“I was here for…” It’s too late you’ve already noticed his bandaged thigh.
“You are injured again?” You make a small tutting noise in disapproval, coming to circle him closer. “You know, So’lek I have found that it is better to dodge the sky demon bullets, not race right into them.”
You joke as if the two of you are old friends, even a hint of mischief present in your composure. So’lek is left feeling lost in how to navigate this playful environment you’ve created. Even more so unsure on how to avoid admitting he fell out of a damn tree to get this mark. It would only show his weakness. Perhaps even give you the idea that he is uncoordinated in hunting and combat.
Not that it matters. Why should he care to prove himself as a competent and athletic male?
When he doesn’t respond fast enough you beat him to the punch. “You are not actually shot, correct?”
“I am not shot.”
“Good.” And he may just be imagining it, but there is a flicker of relief in your expression. What would your reaction be if he was shot? He would be mortified to be caught so easily by poorly aimed sky demon bullets but would that have won him some sympathy? Would you have tended to his wound directly, stayed by his side as he was nursed back to health?
“Well then if you are not bleeding to death you should stay for a meal.”
So’lek flinches when you’ve suddenly grabbed his left hand and tug. This recoil is punished with your hand pulling back, regret immediately slinking through his veins. Despite his brash reaction there is no sign of embarrassment in your expression. Just a simple roll of your eyes.
“I could not impose.”
“You are not imposing. It’s an invitation, So’lek.” You correct him. “Which in Zeswa culture really means you have no choice but to accept.”
He’s tempted to ask what would happen should he refuse, but he bites his tongue. It’s important to keep his relations with the Zeswa friendly, being polite as he can manage with his little social skills. So So’lek trails behind you, watching as the skip in your steps sway that long hair back and forth across the curve of your spine.
Just as with the healer’s tent, your presence immediately has others joyfully expressing their own greetings.
“I am still waiting for that rematch, Niwin.” You call to male on their right, covered in red paint markings.
“I told you, tsmuke [sister]. No number of rematches will give you the victory you desire. It is a waste of time.” He calls back, pausing from his work on a spear.
“Spoken like a true coward. Is your tail truly still stuck between your legs?” Pearly whites on full display you only laugh when he sends back a teasing hiss. So’lek doesn’t miss the way Niwin’s eyes catch and track his frame. He is not the only one to silently wonder what you are doing with a man like him.
Exchanging waves and inside jokes along the way, the two of you finally reach the largest of the Zeswa tents. Inside are Na’vi sprawled out and socializing, some crafting weapons while others use the cook fire to prepare meals.
Trusting that So’lek is following behind obediently, you make a beeline for a certain male next to the cookfire. Long dreads falling over his shoulder he is fast at work, properly cooking meat over the fire. A savory scent fills his lungs.
“Novao, I have brought you another victim.” You grin, practically bouncing on the balls of your feet.
“Such little faith you have in my genius.” He mutters, but stops short when he notices who stands behind you. His brow bones raise.
“Kaltxi,” So’lek signs awkwardly.
“Kaltxi,” Novao returns, the response uttered on instinct. “Who is this?” He asks, turning to you.
“Who is this?” You scoff, pushing at his shoulder. “This is So’lek, of course. By the stars, Novao, you would forget your head were it not attached to your body.” You snicker coming to kneel beside him.
So’lek hates to appear as if he is mimicking your motions but standing above the two of you now feels awkward so he slowly kneels.
“Do I want to know by what means you have kidnapped this man?” Novao goads.
“You said you need a larger sampling audience for more diverse feedback. Look at how I deliver.” You quip, bumping his shoulder with a proud grin. So’lek’s ears flicker at the playful jesting, but he doesn’t allow a smile. “Do not question good things that come your way.”
“I will once you stop questioning the success of my soon to be famous dishes.”
Is this how you converse with everyone? If so, perhaps there is nothing special about the way you tease him. Just a general reflection of your boisterous personality that he is not accustomed to.
“I apologize in advance if this dish causes physical repercussions.” You hand over a leaf of cloaked panther meat crested with vegetables and some sort of seed. A recipe entirely new to him, but he accepts. “There is no telling when Novao’s new recipes will bring you to the heights of ecstasy versus the edge of an early grave. But he needs opinions, so we must do our part.”
You make a show of holding up your own portions, as if to prove you are in this together. Novao grumbles under his breath but prepares a plate for himself while holding back a smile.
The first bite is intense. It takes a second bite to fully interpret the burst of flavor in his mouth and once he has, So’lek struggles not to scarf down the entire thing. Even you can’t hold back an approving moan as you chew. A sound that damn near has him spiralling again.
“It is wonderful,” He says.
“You see, even this newcomer knows how to appreciate food better.” Novao is quick to jump in.
Giggling after finally swallowing, you concede. “It is one of your better dishes to date, brother.”
So’lek has a hard time understanding how this isn’t ranked as the best dish period. He himself is proficient in cooking but So’lek has never taken it up as an art as some do. Most of his dishes have just enough flavor to suffice. During desperate times he occasionally will dip into his small stash of disgusting RDA meals. Nothing, however, has compared to this.
“Do you claim to cook better?” It’s a genuine question but it has Novao rumbling with laughter immediately. Your brows raise.
“Oh, look who has a sense of humor after all.” Brows raised, you peer back at him with narrowed eyes and a swishing tail. “Not a very good sense of humor, but one all the same.”
He can’t tear his gaze away from your burning attention. So’lek’s own tail curls along the floor. It’s not even praise but your spotlight warms his skin just the same. It feels good to elicit some sort of response from you, instead of the other way around for once.
“Y/n burns everything she touches.” Novao jests between bites.
“You exaggerate,” comes your quick defense, although posture unbothered as you take another bite.
“She almost burned down this very tent last time she tried to cook a simple skewer.”
So’lek can see it now. Na’vi running to and fro out of the tent as you stand there looking perplexed by a raging cookfire.
“What can I say? I am not made to bother with this mundane task.” You shrug, leaning back on your elbow to lounge. The new position accentuates the dip of your waist until it curves out into full hips.
“So simple that you purposefully fail at such a boring task?” The questions pops out before he can stop it. But So’lek is slightly startled when you immediately clap a hand down on his knee.
“You see, So’lek understands!” That dainty hand does not immediately retract, resting upon his bare skin there. He hadn't realized how close you were already laying until now. When you cock your head to the side and continue to banter with the other male, that soft hair comes to tickle at his thighs.
Being in your space fills his senses with your scent. An essence so unique and addicting that So’lek once again gets the urge to run for the hills. Instead, he remains diligently unmoving, worried that any small shift will have you shuffling away from him. And basking in an entertaining conversation between friends and a good meal before him, So’lek finds that he is in no hurry to return to headquarters.
It becomes a bad habit of his, looking for excuses to return to the Zeswa home. So’lek had stayed far beyond finishing his meal last time. He blames it on good company, something that seems to be hard for him to keep nowadays. The Sarentu clan joining the resistance has brought him some comfort since but they like him are always busy with their own responsibilities, even further weighed down by scars that are far too fresh.
So’lek had only convinced himself to leave once your mouth watering essence and occasional friendly touches had become far too much for his body to handle. To his utter mortification there had been a stir in his tewng [loincloth] and he knew then that it was important to make a speedy exit.
He’s playing with fire, he knows it. So’lek should be doing everything he can to avoid temptation, not race back towards it. Yet, there is something within him that can’t seem to pass up any excuse there is to return.
“What is wrong?” So’lek reluctantly asks. He doesn’t know how much longer he can silently watch Priya mutter to herself and pace back and forth in front of the monitors. She is on the brink of a full meltdown and as luck would have it, he happens to be the only one in the vicinity as the others take lunch.
“Nothing,” comes her frazzled response. So’lek shrugs, good enough for him. At least he can say he asked. “Well I mean a little more than nothing I guess. Although that really depends on how you look at it.”
So’lek holds back a sigh. So they’re doing this after all.
“It’s just that I sort of forgot to send the coordinates of the new RDA drills sites to the Zeswa after I specifically promised to get it to them within a few days. But I somehow completely forgot, because that’s what I do. Typical Priya. I’m sure at this point they are already upset and-”
“I’ll do it.”
“What?”
“I will share the coordinates with Minang and Nesim. That’s what you need right?”
Priya’s mouth gapes like a fish out of water. She takes an annoying amount of time to gather herself from the apparent shock.
“Well…I mean yes but that would mean traveling all the way to the Zeswa camp you realize.”
“I realize. Give me the demon tablet.” So’lek snips, holding out his hand for the pad. So maybe it’s not that common for him to help Priya after a foolish mistake like this but he still can’t see how that is enough to elicit such a dramatic response. Nor does So’lek want to wait around for her to start questioning his motives.
“Wow um yeah of course. I will grab that for you and uh…” She trails off, spinning around as if she is chasing her nonexistent tail, while really just trying to locate the tablet. Priya finally hands it over with a smile. “Thank you, So’lek. I really appreciate it.”
“Yes. Goodbye.” He has never left headquarters so fast.
Furthermore he manages to make it to Zeswa camp in record time without trying. Walking through the camp he forces himself to make a beeline to Nesim, although a part of him wishes to check the healer’s tent for Minang first. Doing so, however, would only increase the chances of coming across you and getting entirely sidetracked.
Minang and Nesim are far more forgiving of the delay than Priya gives them credit for. It takes some time trying to properly explain the map on the tablet, as it’s their first time truly interacting so closely with these screens, but eventually he manages to relay the proper information and get all of them on track.
The beginnings of plans for certain amushes are made and So’lek is given detailed information to return to HQ. Nesim leaves immediately once the plans are made, anxious to get preparations under way. Minang however hangs back in the tent.
So’lek almost doesn’t notice her presence as he finds himself staring past the tent entrance to where you sit weaving a basket. It feels rare to catch you alone like this but you appear entirely at ease working the fibers together.
“She is one of my assisting healers.” Minang says, almost making So’lek jump out of his skin when she is suddenly by his side. His eyes immediately dart away, feigning a disinterest as he rakes over the scenery equally.
So’lek clears his throat before speaking. “That is good.” Despite the strength of his voice, Minang seems to find some sort of amusement in his response. She wears a neutral expression but even he catches the twitch of her lips.
“I heard the two of you have already met.”
“Briefly.”
“Great. Then she will be perfect.” Minang says with an assured nod.
“Perfect…for what?” A wrinkle settles between his hairless brows as So’lek’s mind races to understand at what point he became so lost in this conversation. Instead of answering his question directly, Minang turns to walk further into the tent. Already moving on to the next task she talks while starting to gather some of her cooking supplies.
“My sister and I have been talking and we’ve decided it would be beneficial for you to learn how to ride a pa’li [direhorse]. The Sarentu has already taken it upon themselves and has progressed immensely. As another ally of the Zeswa it only makes sense you learn some of our ways too. It may become necessary for any future ground attacks.”
She continues to gather her things without facing him, but Minang’s ears perk to hear his response. So’lek can’t remember the last time he has ridden on a pa’li. It would have had to have been briefly as a child, not actually making the bond himself but riding with his father. It was not a common experience among his clan and since then he has never had the opportunity to explore it further.
“I see. That is…logical.”
“Y/n will be happy to teach you. She is an experienced rider. A good karyu [teacher] I think.”
So’lek feels as if there is a rock lodged in his throat.
“I would not wish to lessen her availability in the healer’s tent.”
Minang gives a low chuckle, turning to look at him with a swishing tail and wide smile. “I have plenty of help for the time. Besides, since you two have already met, that would make her the ideal choice.”
“Yes, I see. Although I would not consider us more than strange-”
“I will give her word of this assignment. Return at noon tomorrow for your first lesson.” And with that she saunters out of the tent, leaving So’lek gaping for words and mind lagging to process the turn of events.
Despite having come all this way for the chance to see you, So’lek goes to slightly extreme lengths to escape the tent without your notice. Brisk walk taking him further and further away from your alluring scent, he asks himself how the hell he is supposed to survive lessons in your presence without going entirely over the line. It’s caught in this spiral that he almost misses Novao’s quick greeting. Just a simple wave before the male is turning back to his meal, but it still catches So’lek off guard. Which appears to be the theme of the day.
And perhaps it’s in his head but it feels as if less people shy away from him as he leaves the camp. A few other Na’vi even extend a goodbye nonchalantly.
“Did something happen?” Priya twists to meet So’lek’s far off gaze.
“I have already relayed the information.”
“I think she means did something happen to have you spacing out like that? You’ve hardly said anything since returning.” Anqa steps in, putting an arm around Priya’s shoulder’s as a comforting act.
So’lek stares down at the two tawtute. He’s not sure what they expect of him. Confiding with sky people is not a common practice of his. In fact, confiding in anyone is a rare occasion. Neither does he believe they would have any way of understanding his situation. Priya and Anqa are still so wrapped up in their honeymoon phase that giving them any piece of his love life would only set them off like fireworks. He would never hear the end of it. No doubt they would pry until his patience would run out.
“I will be gone tomorrow.” So’lek says instead.
“Oh, helping the sarentu again?” Anqa inquires.
“The Zeswa require my presence. I will return before eclipse.” And before they can question him any further he retreats to his small living quarters. Despite his quick retreat So’lek can still pick up their gossiping whispers behind him.
Keeping this under wraps may be more difficult than he anticipated. It feels impossible to keep a secret in a place like this, jammed together in a cave with so many tawtute. Then again, this can’t even be qualified as a secret. In order to do so there would have to be actually something to share, and there isn’t. Nothing has occurred between the two of you. It’s just his own imaginings that threaten to get him in trouble.
You, on the other hand, are just fulfilling the requests of your Tsahik and Olo’eyktan. Even doing a little more than asked by extending a friendly welcome to him. With any luck he will learn to ride a pa’li fast enough to stop this from spiraling out of control and involving other unwanted parties.
It’s with this attitude that he makes the trek out the next morning. A strong resolve to stay focused and complete the task at hand efficiently. After all, he’s always been a quick learner. Why should this be any different?
“Starting the day a little grumpy, hm?” He spins around at the sound of your voice. Sauntering from a nearby tent, today you wear a decadent feather top. Something so light and revealing it would only take the right gust of wind to have it shifting. So’lek’s digs his nails into his thighs.
“Um no, I am ready to learn.”
“Oh so that is your focused scowl. Hard to tell the difference.” With a pep to your step, you motion for him to follow. “Well then if you’re so anxious to learn, let’s get started, lazy bones.”
“Of course.” So’lek concedes with a nod, but he doesn’t miss the giggle you try to stifle in front of him. Perhaps he is a little formal, even stiff at times, but most people simply take it as a sign to leave him be. The same is not true in your case.
The sound dies down significantly once the two of you have made it away from the Zeswa camp. Gliding through the tall reeds and plants of the plains there are times where he can only get a glimpse of you through the foliage. So’lek shuffles to keep up. For someone with a significantly shorter stride than him, you sure move fast.
“There you are!” You call with glee before running forward into a clearing. Finally afforded a proper view of the open space, he spots you next to a pa’li, running a hand along its snout. The creature seems to lean into your touch, just as happy to see you as you are her. “I knew you’d be out here somewhere, girl.”
When So’lek steps out of the tall grass the creature immediately stiffens. He goes stock still in response.
“To ride a pa’li you must first show them you are not a threat. Soothe them into letting you approach.”
So’lek nods his head and takes a steadying breath. Unfortunately, it is only a few steps in before the pa’li is rearing back, trying to get out of your hold. You coo softly, giving comforting words and touches until she is back in your space once more.
“Perhaps let’s start without your bow first. Just for now.”
Reluctantly, So’lek slowly removes all forms of weaponry on him and places it on the grass. Try, try and try again, he does all he can to get closer. When you tell him to slow down, he moves at the pace of an insect. When he tries to imitate the cooing sounds you often make it not only has the pa’li running away entirely but also you struggling to hold back your own laughter.
Trying not to notice the way your tail curls in amusement, So'lek persistently continues.
“A pa’li is not like an ikran. There is no show of dominance to win over lifelong loyalty. Instead you must prove yourself to be caring and trustworthy every time you approach.”
It’s good instruction but none of it seems to be doing him any use. For whatever reason, he can not get within a few steps of the direhorse before she is running for the hills. Frustration blooming quickly, So’lek’s jaw clenches.
“You know, the problem is quite clear and simple to fix.” Head tilting to the side you draw forward to him a few steps and this time let the pa’li run off without interference.
“What is it?”
“That scowl. Not the most inviting demeanor.” You point out and a line forms between his brows. So’lek places his hands on his hips, nose scrunching at the remark.
“It is my face. There is nothing I can do to change it.”
“You could try to smile.” You goad, demonstrating a smile of your own. “I’m sure if you put your mind to it, you could manage.”
“I smile.” Apparently not enough considering you are not the first person to make this suggestion. Keeping a stern expression is not always on purpose, but with all that’s happened it somehow feels like a comforting guard set in place. He is not as vulnerable when others have a hard time reading him.
“Alright alright.” You concede with hands raised in surrender. “I believe you. It just would be nice to see.” There is a spark of mischief beneath that comforting smile. And something tells So’lek that you are no longer talking about this just in the context of soothing a pa’li. “Let’s try something different then.”
Air catches in his lungs the second your small fingers are wrapping around his palm. This time, So’lek doesn’t make the mistake of flinching and scaring you off. With rising curiosity he allows himself to be manhandled by your gentle grip. He is pulled along slowly until the pa’li is only a few steps away.
To his surprise the creature does not immediately shy away now that the two of you approach her together. Slowly his hand is coaxed to lay across her snout, but even once it is placed there your touch does not disappear. Your petite fingers remain calmly pressed over the back of his hand. They coax him to create long soothing strokes across the creature’s leathery skin but every now and then your thumb will run over one of the protruding veins of his hand.
Saliva gathers atop of his tongue. He should be focusing on this small success and creating a further bond with the pa’li but all he can feel is you. Buttery soft skin and dazzling eyes that peek up at him with praise on your tongue.
Getting so worked up over something so simple is truly ridiculous and he can’t quite figure out when or how you gained this power over him.
Soothing the pa’li is one thing but making the bond and mounting the creature happens to be another feat entirely. It takes at least a dozen times to make the bond and mount once but even that only lasts for a few seconds before he is bucked off. Once. Then twice. Then the third time he is catapulted into the lake.
Breaching the shallow pool, So’lek’s lips turn downwards and he can’t keep back a frustrated grunt. His eyes narrow when they settle on your form nearly hunching over from laughter. Wiping the mud from his brow his gaze is enough to have you trying to stifle your amusement weakly.
“You are laughing.” He deadpans.
“No no I am not,” You clear your throat in efforts to stop the giggles as you wade into the water where he sits. “I am not laughing.”
So’lek doesn’t know what comes over him. An action born from pure emotion, but when he accepts your extended hand of help he doesnt use it to hoist himself up but instead yanks on it hard. With very little force you easily go flying to the ground next to him and beneath the water. A shocked sound escapes your throat the second you resurface.
An apology is on the tip of his tongue but you don’t give him a chance.
“Oh I see how it is.” With a threateningly deep chuckle you are already rearing up and splashing a wave of water over him. Whatever amends he was ready to make are chucked aside as he shakes the water from his braids and his tail curls in excitement.
You are back on your feet and running before he is halfway up. Fast little thing, you are. But it’s no matter, with the adrenaline now racing through his veins it is only a matter of time before he catches up. Splashing, pushing and even tripping all go underway until both of you are covered in lake mud. It’s like being a child again, his hands grasping for your tail at every chance he gets, your own smaller hands managing to fling mud into his braids.
So’lek’s own deep laughter rumbles in his chest far before he realizes it. An insatiable thrill runs through him as the two of you indulge in play that he has not experienced since he was half this height. And when you tackle him back into the water he comes to find that for the first time in a long time he has forgotten about his nagging objectives.
He is drunk on your laugh, the way it rings like a beautiful chime in the upper plains wind. Lazily sprawled next to you he tries to reel back his own chuckling just as your chest heaves for air.
“I knew you could smile.” You manage between breaths. So’lek only has a second to understand your words before there is a distant boom. Head whipping towards the source of the sound he finds it comes from far east. One of the many drilling sites he had shared the coordinates of. He’s ready to shrug it off and continue, far accustomed to the dreadful noise and what it means at this point, but when So’lek turns back to look at you that feeling immediately shifts.
Your ears are pulled back, almost tucked beneath your hair. Tail limp beneath the water and blank stare fixated in the difference. For the first time since meeting you there are no traces of a smile, not a flicker or spark in those beautiful eyes. Something heavy hangs there in its place. And the breakneck change in demeanor gives him chills.
It’s as if you’ve forgotten he is there. That usually curving and free moving posture has now straightened into a locked position.
“It is a drilling site in the east. Several miles away.” So’lek says carefully. There is no telling whether or not his comment makes it better or worse, but with a smooth voice he continues. “It is from a drill that they use to make a hole in the ground.”
‘What?” You whisper, almost as if coming out of a daze.
“That is what you are hearing. It is an awful sound.” His muzzle wrinkles at the truth of his words. So’lek has come far closer to those dreadful machines then he ever would have liked but at least he now has experienced first hand how they can be stopped. Still, there are nightmares that echo with that Eywa forsaken sound occasionally.
With a hesitant hand he starts to reach out to place it on your shoulder. “It is alright to be scared.”
He doesn’t make contact before you are whipping back.
“I am not scared.” Hastily you spring up onto your feet and back towards the shore. It feels as if the moment has shattered like glass before he could even understand it, leaving him reeling to catch up. “Come, let’s get back to work.” Tone hard and words clipped, you are already out of his reach.
So’lek is careful not to bring up the drill again, or any RDA activity for that matter. He pretends not to notice that you’ve changed the location of his training further from the drill site. And when he enters the next day he is on edge, watching your features for any signs of distress.
Surprisingly, you seem to have switched back to your usual friendliness. It’s as if that conversation never happened and since So’lek is more than lost on what to do he easily follows your lead in not talking about it. In fact, as more lessons come and go it becomes easier to follow your lead in many things.
You are a talkative woman, always chattering about your opinions on different matters (big or small) or filling him in on the intricate inner workings of Zeswa clan gossip. At this point he could probably name just about every clan member from their pieces in your stories alone. When you’re sharing so much like this, it becomes only natural to divulge some information himself.
You ask about the resistance headquarters, about how many tawtute live there, what they eat. Even more personal things like where he manages to sleep and how he fills his days outside of his pa’li lessons. Although at first feeling a little put on the spot, So’lek eventually warms to this line of questioning. You are simply a curious individual and when you soak in every mundane detail he gives with a vibrant excitement and big wide eyes, it’s hard to not enjoy the attention.
Learning to ride a pa’li is exceedingly more trying than he had anticipated. Even once he has learned how to mount and start a smooth walk, navigating and getting up to a gallop feels like starting from ground zero again. Despite these difficulties, the extended lessons don’t bother him as he would have expected.
Some days you greet him with leftovers from Navao’s newest creations (letting him learn the hard way that you’re right about some of them having physical consequences) and other days it is him that brings back foraged fruit or random trinkets from HQ you might find interesting. Those meals are shared in the tall grass of the plains, stories filtering out of your lips faster than he can keep up with as he watches your long hair dancing in the wind.
There is one question, however, that you never ask him. Perhaps because you already know what happened to his clan. So’lek doesn’t share the story of his clan decimation by the RDA, but word travels. The memory of his people has become a cautionary tale. Not much more than a story to rile anger and motivation to bring the sky people down once and for all. The Sarentu clan shared a similar fate, but they have each other. Even a handful of people is a desirable clan in his eyes.
It’s a week into the lessons that So’lek finds himself at the Zeswa camp early. He had come across a patch of tsawksyul [pandoran ‘sunflowers’] earlier that morning and was gathering it without thought. He has no use for the delicate flowers but it seems right to leave it with you. Surely you are more than happy to find ways of weaving it into a new intricate top. He’s heard enough about your designs to understand it’s a passion of yours.
So with a little too much anticipation and haste, So’lek enters the camp early in search of your bright smile. It’s your voice, though, that he hears first. It filters from the healer’s tent. Lurking on the opposite of the doorway So’lek goes to round the structure and enter but he stops midway.
“Is this about the man from the tawtute clan?”
“His name is So’lek.” You remind the anonymous female, gently.
Every muscle in his body freezes at the sound of his name. This is wrong. Listening in on a private conversation is bad enough, even when it is not about you. Yet, his neck cranes to see if anyone else is around instead. Since he is on the opposite side of the tent there is not a soul to note his presence yet and So’lek simply can’t get himself to move from the spot.
“And why do you assume it would be about him? Does there have to be another man involved in order for me to take time to thoroughly consider Ra’vang’s courtship?” You challenge and the other female lets out a sigh.
“Of course not, but you have been spending an awful lot of time with him.”
“Naturally,” comes your simple reply, entirely unbothered. “I am teaching him as I was instructed.”
“Yeah I know and you’re very kind to do so but you have to admit he is a little…strange.”
“That is not true! He has simply been through shit that you haven’t.” All softness bleaches from your voice.
“Woah! Okay, retract the claws. I am sorry. I did not mean to insinuate anything negative by it.” He recognizes your little huff in response. “It’s just that the two of you are very different. That’s all I’m trying to say. He is very…stiff.”
A beat passes and through the tent material he swears he catches the shake of your head. “So’lek is selective when it comes to socializing. He may come off serious but there is a lot more beneath that hard exterior than you would realize. It’s simply not on show for everyone.”
It feels as if a wire has been tired around his heart, his lungs furthermore forgetting to take in needed oxygen.
“I admit I do not claim to know him as well as you do. But…I can not imagine living in such close quarters with sky people like that. Always surrounded by metal.”
“Of course you can not. Most people are not cut out for such a task. But we benefit from the Resistance’s aid, so perhaps we should be grateful that So’lek is capable of dealing with it.”
“Okay okay, I see your point, sister. Just…be careful what decisions you make right now. Ra’vang is a strong warrior and provider. Even if it’s not him you have other options, many good ones. Spontaneity may be your specialty but I’d hate for you to let a good mating pass by simply because you are not thinking this through properly.”
You give a small sigh but it’s light, void of anything but fondness.
“If there is one thing I do know it’s that love is not something to be analyzed and bash one’s own head over. I think things through, but I know how to listen to the song of my own heart too. I don’t make it a practice to question what it tells me.”
So’lek staggers away. Any longer in that spot and he risks being seen, or sending his thoughts into a further tangled mess. He looks down at the flowers in hand. You defended him, said a lot more than most people would have. It fosters an unfathomable fire in his chest and yet it’s tampered by a reality he wishes to not face.
You have suitors. Real men of the clan that are not only native to this culture and lifestyle but also expressing interest through real courting displays. If your friend’s words are anything to go off of, you’ve gathered many good prospects. And why wouldn't that be true? It’s easy to imagine what they would see in a woman like you. Easy because it’s everything he sees too.
But So’lek….
So’lek is not Zeswa. He hardly has traces of the lifestyle from his own clan within him. The years have shaped him into somewhat of a mut in Na’vi breeding. He does not know the way of any clan how he should and there is a darkness within him that rages for revenge. These men have been brought up to take care of someone like you. They are able to give you so much more than he ever could and yet here he stands with a courting gift in hand like a true skxawng [idiot].
Whether or not it was intentional is irrelevant. If he gives these flowers to you it will surely be a sign of interest. He will instigate himself as a competitor in this game that he has no right playing.
So’lek discreetly slips them into a basket of herbs in one of the tents. Someone else will find use for them, but it won’t be in his hands when you arrive.
The entanglement of his thoughts leaves his body buzzing with energy. So much so that even though he hardly hears a word you say during the lesson, he somehow manages to conjure up enough tenacity to stay atop the pa’li while in a gallop. And then faster and faster he pushes the creature with that racing adrenaline he sends down the bond.
The whip of the wind, the strain of his muscles, all of them work to offset the mental exhaustion that is quickly blossoming. And then his golden eyes finally take in the scene before him. Tall grass races beside him on every side. Trees of crimson leaves dot the open field where arrow deer scurry and Soundblast colossus nap near the sparkling river.
The plains are monumental. It settles a deep awareness of its grandeur.
Your celebratory yips and hollers echo from behind.
And rushing through this scene feels like flying for the first time again.
Completing the training finally gives So’lek room for a breather. He stunts the disappointment at not seeing you every day with the knowledge that this will only simplify the situation. Without being kept in close quarters he will be free to devote himself entirely to taking down the RDA and you will be free to explore courtings and potential matings without his interference.
Luckily there is more than enough work to keep him busy now that they are preparing to go up against the largest drilling site to date. When your laughter echoes through his mind, So’lek goes through the RDA rosters until his eyes burn and a headache clouds all thoughts. When his brain compulsively conjures up your teasing jests being directed at another suitor, he hunts feral viperwolves until he is covered in scratches and forced to the hospital wing.
And it is only once that he accidentally crushes a mug in his grip in front of Alex and Anqa as he envisions another man’s tongue running over your luscious curves. He chalks it up to tension created by the upcoming battle, but it’s clear Anqa has shared the occurrence when Priya gives him worried looks for several days after.
Despite his busy work, So’lek finds himself relieved when the day of the ambush finally arrives. It is the first time the Zeswa and the Resistance have worked together in combat and the air buzzes with excitement. He only thinks of you for a moment when he mounts a pa’li and joins the Zeswa in leading the majority of RDA firepower towards the hills.
A small band of Zeswa warriors, tawtute soldiers, and the Sarentu clan work together to infiltrate the base quietly, taking down the drill from the inside.
Hours feel only like minutes when his body is pumping with adrenaline. It begins and is over all before he can really process it and by some Eywa given miracle, not only do they succeed but there are only injuries to be accounted for. Muscles aching, forehead beaded with sweat, and entire body still pulsing from the intense vibrations of close range gun power, So’lek heaves a deep sigh of relief. A tangible weight lifts from his shoulders, a peace that is often fleeting but something he has learned to enjoy while it lasts.
There will be more to do tomorrow. The RDA are nowhere near exterminated, but for now he basks in the knowledge that they are one step closer to ridding them for good. The Zeswa holler and cry into the wind with a passion that seems to shake the very hills. Even those that are injured take part in celebrating this victory.
Watching the scene makes his chest swell with foreign feelings. So many times he has been left to reflect on the aftermath of his solo missions without another to share that moment with. Celebrations occasionally occur at headquarters but never has it felt like this. And his lungs seize, almost bursting with the need to let out his own cry in the mix of their allies. It calls to a part within him that often feels buried away, even forgotten. An instinctual part of him that is true Na’vi, a creature that has a place in Pandora’s beauty.
Years worth of turmoil releases in that guttural cry and to So’lek’s surprise, it is a sound of pure elation that rings from him.
It was within that spirit or triumph that So’lek had been extended an invitation by Nesim to join them in festivities. Although noncommittal in his response, he finds himself preparing to leave headquarters hours later. The tawtute and Sarentu work together to create their own party in the dinghy cave. A part of him feels as if he should be there for it, a party of outcasts that he has grown accustomed to associating himself with. But that primal cry remains trapped in his chest. It calls him to the plains.
And so for once, So’lek decides to let himself celebrate.
There are little memories left of clan parties, most just blurry images of firelight and dancing shadows. They are only mere facades in comparison to the burst of conviviality that So’lek can hear within a mile of camp.
Walking through the center of camp there are very few Na’vi still residing there, most simply rushing to and fro in search of supplies or friends before scampering back to where the real party is being held. Down the hill he can see towering flames and a gaggle of bodies dancing with fervor.
He takes a step, then pauses.
So’lek’s fingers are hesitant as they undo the clasps of his chest guard, but it eventually loosens and slides down his arms to rest in the grass. He sets aside his bow, his gun, and every piece that is made of metal or meant as a weapon. Even his arm guard is placed neatly in that pile.
The wind nips at his vulnerable form and So’lek is once again struck by how naked he feels without these things. This time though, he settles into that discomfort. This is a party. One night where he will not plot his revenge or sharpen his weapons. A single night where he can pretend to belong.
The last streaks of fiery red disperse from the sky and in their wake, eclipse conjures Pandora’s bioluminescent glow. Tahni [star-like freckles] light along his exposed skin. So’lek’s ears perk the closer he gets to the party. The very thrum of the heavy drums vibrates at the soles of his feet, reverberating to punch him in the chest.
There is a vibrance in the air, an energy so palpable it feels as if he can taste it on his tongue. Whatever drug has infused the scene, it seems to spread rapidly among the celebrating parties. Zeswa of all ages and stations are muffled together in a form of dancing that So’lek can only describe as pure frenzy.
Movement without direction. Feet atop the wind as if a fire has been lit beneath them.
It is unlike anything So’lek has ever witnessed before. His golden eyes flicker frantically across the parade before him, unsure of what to take in first. The very air in his lungs is filled with the hickory essence of smoked meat. Even his ears flutter across his braids, attacked by the onslaught of sound.
And then, there is you.
Right in the very heart of the festivities, as he could have guessed. His overstimulated senses finally find a target, settling entirely on the way you move within the crowd. Much like the rest of the Zeswa your body moves with unabashed enthusiasm. There is no rhyme or reason to the swivel and swish of your small form. You act on pure instinct, a reaction of feeling to the euphoric buzz around you. Pure elation.
It is a complete disregard of outside perceptions. There is nothing but your windswept joy and the music that moves you to and fro. Although the entire scene is curious by nature to him, there is something about you that constantly pulls him in. And that’s what it is. Your presence is magnetic. It draws not only So’lek in but everyone around you, it’s clear in every reaction he has witnessed.
You are a free spirit. You move through life as if nothing could ever clip your wings and for all he can tell, you may just be right. Because even in the midst of grief and war, your scars act as the embers to light a vibrant sun in your countenance, until that empathetic warmth seeps to those around you.
The female next to you, her name Ta’kuri he believes, leans over to converse with you over the pounding music. So’lek’s heart drops to his stomach when she points a finger in his direction and your eyes snag his form. Your responding smile is bright upon spotting him, but So’lek can only focus on the fact that he has potentially been caught staring.
Small form practically swallowed by the crowd it takes a moment for you to extract yourself from the mesh of bodies. Just enough time for So’lek to calm his heart and feign shown interest elsewhere to cover up for his flub. When you saunter to the outskirts he purposefully waits a beat before sliding his gaze in your direction.
“Well if it isn’t my star pupil, oeyӓ numeyu [my student]. You actually showed up.” You are all teeth, grin center stage as you pin him with those golden eyes.
“Kaltxi karyu [hello teacher],” The edges of his lips twist into a lopsided smile without permission. “Nesim invited me.”
“And now you are here. Finally ready to have some fun, yes?” Chin tilted downward and brow raised, you give him a look that suggests the only correct answer is yes. He feels the snap of a retort at the edge of his tongue. Something about how he is not the grumpy pants you always claim him to be and how he does in fact find time to enjoy himself on occasion. But those are words spoken far before he decided to leave you be. So’lek is trying to be good, desperately trying to be respectful and do the right thing.
“The celebration is very enjoyable.”
“Very enjoyable?” You scoff with a half laugh. “How could you even know? You have not even begun dancing yet.”
So’lek immediately staggers a few steps back, at the speed of a prey avoiding a lethal blow. “No no, I am content to enjoy the party here, paskalin [honey/sweetheart].” Shit! He can’t fathom at what point he gave his mouth permission to utter such an affectionate term. So’lek’s insides twist and for perhaps the first time in years his cheeks fill with heat. He thanks Eywa above that the darkness is enough to hide the new tint.
Despite his slip up, your grin never falters, in fact it seems to widen until dimples form in your cheeks. “So’lek you need not be stubborn every time I ask something of you.”
When you catch his wrist in a surprisingly strong hold he is left with no other option but to wobble behind you. “I do not know how to dance. I was never taught.” He shouts to you over the music.
Throwing a smile over your shoulder you do not respond until he has successfully been pulled into the edges of the crowd. “There is nothing to teach.” You say, dropping his hand to face him. “Dancing is the opposite of thinking, So’lek. You simply feel.”
“That is not the comfort you believe it to be.”
Your laugh is barely audible over the roaring drums. “What you need is some liquid courage then.” With a wave of your hand Novao is flagged over. His eyes roll but the swish of his tail is friendly when he comes over to hand two skins of liquor over.
“You are an angel.” You giggle, taking the containers with glee.
“So much more than you realize.” Novao snorts before giving your shoulder a teasing bump and sauntering back towards the cookfire. So’lek barely has his hand wrapped around one of the skins before you are chugging back the other.
When squinted eyes peek up at him over the rim you finally take a breath and push at his hand. “Novao is proficient when it comes to strong drink, I promise.”
Not wishing to feel out of place for any longer, he slants his lips over the rim and takes an ambitious guilt. Regret immediately stings his throat as it slides down like pure fire. The responding choke that comes from him immediately after is utterly humiliating. Eyes already welling with tears, So’lek does everything in his power to shut up the ridiculous sound and gain whatever is left of his composure.
“A little strong, huh?” There is a giggling shrill to your tone but a flicker in your gaze shows concern simultaneously. So’lek is shaking his head before you can even suggest a glass of water.
“No no it is fine just,” He clears his throat, “...different.”
And different it is in comparison to what he has had. It is only now that it hits him how long it has been since tasting anything even close to resembling alcohol. There are a few tawtute at headquarters that occasionally try their hand at brewing alcohol but it is nothing short of fowl and disappointing. There are no inebriating effects from such water down drink, especially consider he is the twice the height of the intended party.
So what comes next is completely out of his control. His body is rendered utterly unprepared for the strong drink that he continues to consume in spite of his better judgment and the fact that you don’t continue to urge him to drink. However, So’lek is no child. He is a man, and one that should be able to hold his liquor so when you occasionally blink up at him or catch a glance from the corner of your eye to make sure he is doing alright, it warps his pride to push him into foolishly drinking down even more.
“Okay I think that is enough.” It takes rising onto your toes in order to reach the rim pointed at his lips. That apparent show of height difference should not please him so much but there is no denying the thrill that tightens his chest. “Now you dance.”
Braids clinking together he is already resisting as you continue to pull him deeper into the crowd. “I truly do not know-”
“Yes yes, I heard you before. I will assist you.” Peering up at him through thick lashes, your hip bumps against his thigh softly as you tack on, “Or do you not trust me?”
That is the line that sinks him. Head already feeling floaty, So’lek lets you maneuver him into position.
Small hands skate across his shoulder blades, for a moment those talented thumbs press into the muscles there just as you had done upon your first meeting. “You are too tense. You must relax.”
Easier said than done when there is a line of electricity left behind every inch of skin you touch. But sooner than later he finds his shoulders loosening, starting to sway in a weird motion that seems pointless but actually fits with the rhythm of drums. A burst of confidence fills him when you step back to face him from the front again, trusting him enough to continue the motion.
“There you go! Learning already.” And just as the simpering student he feels like he is would, So’lek perks up at the praise. Those flirty smiles and encouraging words coupled with the strong drink running through his veins, it becomes all too easy to let his body go without thought.
Regardless, you continue to guide him. So’lek falls into line with whatever movement feels natural from your promptings. For the first time in years a fuzziness takes over that nagging voice of responsibility and he lets his body take precedence over his overactive brain. The more liquid fire he consumes the easier it becomes to not imagine what he must look like on the outside. Every fiber of his being gravitates towards the addicting pulse of those drums. Drowning in that vibrant energy until he is also engulfed in the crowd of Zeswa.
Other Na’vi surround him from every side but it’s your touch that pulses through him. A brush of fingers along his arm, his bicep. The zapping electricity every time that dainty hand clasps his own to pull him closer. Even the tickle of your hair in the wind brushing his chest has him fighting back a full body shiver.
Dancing is not a brash display, although some excel in that arena. No, dancing is the mechanism that pulls you closer to the touch you crave. The perfect opportunity to let hands wander, to mold bodies together without social consequence. And now, So’lek finally understands the rave over this activity.
So’lek doubts he could confirm whether or not his head is still attached to his shoulders with the amount of alcohol running through him. However, there is no more vivid memory than the one of his hands mapping your frame. They encase your sides, ribs, up to your shoulders over your collarbones, feeling the silky skin beneath as you curve into every brush of his greedy hands. It’s when one hand mindlessly curves around the nape of your neck, the two scents mingling in the most satisfying of ways, that So’lek finally catches the burn of another’s stare.
It radiates from a male off on the sidelines. Each hand holds a skin of strong drink while the male attempts to burn a hole into So’lek’s head through slitted eyes. Something rumbles at the back of So’lek’s head. A voice that tells him there is some reason he should be upset by this situation, but that caution is muffled. It rings out like a message shouted from the deepest part of the lake and So’lek can’t find it within himself to spend more than a few seconds trying to decode it.
It’s not just you that distracts him. Ta’kuri is suddenly on his left shouting some sort of encouraging words over the music. There’s no making sense of it but before he knows it there are more Na’vi that join the mix. Even Novao meshes with the crowd at some point, slurred conversation passing between him and every Na’vi he meets. Some friends lean on each other to stop from collapsing on the ground in their drunken state while others flourish in a flutter of moves that has the fields buzzing with cheers. So’lek’s own voice joins the other exuberant shouts.
To call the event hectic would be an understatement but every time So’lek feels as if he may be the one to topple over next, there is a small hand at the base of his spine. Gorgeous golden eyes and a bright smile peering up to remind him that you are watching over him.
So’lek dances until his ears ring. He dances until the very soles of his feet have grown bruised from landing on the hard ground. It is only when you are stumbling across the long grass, caught by his strong hands desperately trying to pull you back up that the two of you decide to trail off from the dance floor.
“Save some drink for the rest of us, sister.” Ta’kuri jests, tapping your nose once before helping So’lek pick you up from the ground. That sweet voice seems to be in a constant state of giggling, a sound So’lek is in no rush to rid himself of.
The two of you find yourselves back in the middle of camp around a fire thanks to Ta’kuri. Several other Zeswa stagger to the outskirts of the cookfire, some already sloppily rolling in the dirt with greedy hands wandering into dangerous territory. The outright display of lust hardly fazes So’lek when his attention is caught by a leaf of meat handed to him. Tender and sweet, it settles in his stomach heavily, finally starting to soak up the excess of alcohol consumed.
You are just as consumed by the food as he is, scarfing down the last bit with a delighted moan.
“Alright you miscreants, let’s leave some room for oxygen.” An older male grumbles fondly, softly nudging a couple with his foot who are engaged in a heated lip lock. He settles around the fire and after several minutes of squinting So’lek makes out the figure to be Kin. Although his thoughts still muddle through a haze, So’lek can finally feel his brain starting to come back online.
Kin engages the group in grand stories while offering milk to be passed around. From the corner of his eye So’lek tracks the way you sway to and fro as the stories continue, but that smile never leaves your tempting lips. Several times you sneak a peek up at him, causing his tail to wind against the floor.
“This story again.” Ta’kuri mutters from his left, quiet enough that Kin continues the tale without interruption.
“He has only told it a dozen times before.” Novao adds, sitting on the other side of you. “That is quite good considering how many times he has told the others.”
“I don’t remember this one.” Lips screwed into a pout and eyes squinted in concentration, you stare intently at the male in the middle. Ta’kuri lets out a short laugh before handing over another container of milk.
“You don’t remember any of them when you're drunk.” You accept the drink, ignoring her fond scoff and the way So’lek’s gaze is once again drawn in your direction.
“So rude,” you huff. He lends a steadying hand when chugging down the bowl of milk has you toppling backwards. A deep laugh rumbles in his chest with ease, even once you are back upright and sending him a heated glare.
Playful comments and quotes of the story are passed between the four in hushed tones until even So’lek is fighting back tears of laughter. Luckily the other Na’vi do not behave much better, half of them already on the brink of wrestling in the grass or laughing until on the verge of passing out. The entire scene is a messy jumble of comradery. It warms him from the inside out.
“I left it down by the lake.” Novao whispers urgently.
“You should not be so careless with your things. Who’s to say an arrow deer has not run off with it by now?” Ta’kuri quips back, still even So’lek can tell that she is going to go back and look for his spear with him as requested.
“I see it is not only Kin making up stories now.” The joke earns him a swift swat to the head with a few fond insults woven before the two are rising.
“Can I trust the two of you to survive until we get back?” She gestures between So’lek and you, a crooked curve of her lips present. It’s doubtful that you have understood even half of where the conversation is at this point but you do respond in a way that both shocks and amuses him greatly. Fingers together at your forehead you flick it out messily in the same way the sky demons do in salute. It’s imperfect and honestly he’s not sure if there is any true understanding of the action but it appears to be an inside joke that Ta’kuri is in on. She returns the gesture with a fond grin.
So’lek doesn’t try to break the silence once the pair has left. It’s hardly uncomfortable with such jovial ambience surrounding. Not to mention the fact that he’s not sure how of a conversation you can carry in this state. It makes no difference. Sitting here is nice. Being next to you is fulfilling in a way he could not have imagined.
“I lied.”
So’lek’s ears stand at alert. Your comment comes so abruptly that he takes a second to lean forward and make sure that you had meant to say it. Those beautiful eyes are transfixed off in the distance but there is no sign to say otherwise.
“About what?” So’lek shifts forward, propping an elbow on his knee as he veers forward to observe your strange expression.
“About not being scared.” It’s a miracle he can detect that whisper over the boisterous conversation around. A part of him wishes he hadn’t. It creates a knot in his stomach. “I am scared. I’m scared all the time. Even on days like this, I should be happy. But I still worry that it could all be ripped away. I don’t want to lose everything, not like…”
The end of that thought dies in the wind but So’lek catches it anyways.
Don’t want to lose everything like he did. One glance at your now pinned back ears proves his suspicions to be correct. Comforting others is not his strong suit. Heavy emotions have a way of winding his tail anxiously as he sputters to understand the right course of action. But tonight, he is grateful for the lowered inhibitions brought on by liquor. It’s what allows him to pause and simply feel the weight of your words.
So’lek’s rough hand, a hand battered by handling weapons in the face of war, settles over your knee. That warm touch has glistening eyes staring back at him.
“That is not going to happen.” It is a vow, one that is spoken deep from his chest. The Sky People have stolen everything from him. Everything. But he is not afraid to protect you from the same fate. To promise with the last meager supply of hope he has left that he can and will prevent this tragedy from coming your way.
A single tear cascades over your cheek. Then you’re suddenly curled up against him, resting that head of long hair against his shoulder, seeking refuge there. It bursts something new within him, something even scarier than he has experienced since meeting you. Never in his life has he been a safe place for another person. That honor has never been one he’s opened himself up to or has felt worthy of.
But you tuck against him, sigh into his neck and every form of tension in your tiny frame evaporates.
“Fuck, I’m so drunk.” Your half giggled slur coaxes out a deep chuckle from him but So’lek is careful not to move otherwise. This moment is too fragile. And if he’s not careful in a blink it will be tomorrow. A day where he puts that chest guard back on along with every other responsibility he has holstered alone for years. That yearning for revenge will return and clean out the softness that only you can supply.
So’lek can’t recall at what point he had fallen asleep. The last thing he remembers is Novao laughing so hard that milk came out his nose. Eyes as heavy as metal doors, he squints them open to find the sky still dark. He is not the only one to have dosed off in the middle of camp around the fire. Different groups of Na’vi are passed out in the greenery but there is a warmth at his side.
You are curled up into a ball, a ball that is slotted against his own body. Even your face presses at the bicep, your nose cold to the touch. Without the protection of tent walls, the breeze is free to brush over the gaggle of Na’vi. Somewhere in your slumber you must have sought out the first available source of heat. Him.
The wind comes from your direction. So’lek is hardly conscious enough to consider tucking you into a tent for the night so instead he does the next best thing. With careful precision, he lifts himself up over your curled frame and settles himself on the other side. This way the wind now hits him before you. Laying on his side then allows him to create a wall that you can hide from the wind behind.
A shiver sends down his spine at the first nip of plains of air, but So’lek doesn’t dare consider moving. Legs untangle and your tail splays out flat again. Although it’s clear this tactic has warmed you up nicely, he is shocked to see you turning over to face him once more. Breath caught in his chest, So’lek watches as you groggily tuck up against him and sigh with a smile.
How many years had it been since he has slept this close to someone?
So’lek has had occasional lovers, but only as means to an end. Nothing deep. Never anything on an emotional level for either party. And so naturally neither did they end in snuggling close to sleep afterwards.
Call it pride. Call it living in denial. But something pushes him to forget about tomorrow and cocoon you closer to his chest.
So’lek’s dreams don’t carry the strain of blood and terror that night.
“There you go, rise and shine sleepyhead.” That soft voice barely filters through the wind, let alone through So’leks head that now feels like the weight of a tank. Throat dry and eyes barely able to slit open to face the light, consciousness comes back slowly.
And when it does, it hurts like hell.
You lean over to block him from the scorching sunlight. When did the plains get so bright? And when did waking up feel like getting his head smashed beneath an AMP suit? The events of last night are still tucked in his memory, but it takes a moment for So’lek to recall the impact of them properly. And that last thing….the last thing he remembers is you snuggling up against his chest.
“How long did-”
“No talking, just drink.” You advise, handing over a bowl of water sternly. Although slightly embarrassing, he’s grateful for the way you help him slowly sit up. It’s hard to get his wits about him when the world is still spinning.
The cold water spears a painful path down his throat, but after several gulps it’s much easier to take in full breaths. The small hand gently placed on his shoulder is a surprising comfort. However, even in a foggy state, that simple touch immediately has him recalling what a true comfort it was to have you in his arms.
No time in his right mind would he have acted on his impulses so carelessly. But last night he had felt entirely detached from time, even more so distant from the side of him that served to do the right thing.
“I fear I owe you an apology.” Although your lips are quirked in a half smile, the comment has him stiff as a board. Here it is. The consequences of his actions. In no way did he have the right to act so intimately with a woman of a clan he does not belong to. And now you have finally come to realize that for yourself. “I did not warn you properly of Zeswa drink.”
A sense of relief bubbles up so fast that So’lek lets a half laugh slip from his lips. It is graciously accepted with a beaming countenance that makes his heart race.
“No it is fine, simply….different from what I have tried before.”
“Well if I knew you were such a lightweight I wouldn’t have suggested it.” You are never one to give up an opportunity to tease him. It is a routine that he has incidentally become quite fond of. Even more so now when there is a twinkle of sincere concern in your beautiful features.
You care. It’s not the first time you have shown it and So’lek prays that it won’t be the last, but it seems time has only made the impact of this truth hit him that much harder each time. It flushes through like fire in his veins, far more addicting than the rush of Zeswa alcohol could ever be.
“I have no regrets,” So’lek says, deep voice rich with sincerity.
Fingers twiddling in your lap, there is a switch in your demeanor that is hard to ignore. Looking at him through thick lashes and grin barely held by teeth snagging your bottom lip, for the first time a sliver of shyness twinkles in your expression. Although, it is clear that your higher tolerance has afforded a much less dramatic hangover leaving him to look like a mess in comparison, it feels as if he has the upper hand for once.
“Really? Even now that your head must want to split in two?” That radiant sunshine you hold has his already weakened composure splitting instead. His gravely chuckle intertwines with your own soft laugh and So’lek doesn’t even realize how close he has invaded your space until the next words leave his mouth.
“It was worth it. I wouldn’t trade last night for anything.”
The severity of his own statement hits like a boulder. Both smiles drop and So’lek is left grappling with the fact that he has meant every word.
Softened eyes peer straight through him, but these are not full of sympathy. There is no pity extended at now realizing how sad most of his nights must be. There is no squirming to find the right response or looking away with an uncomfortable grimace.
No, you face him with that excitement that feels like he is bathing in the sun after years of wallowing in darkness.
“I’m glad.” It’s a small whisper, very much unlike your usual robust calls. And just when So’lek’s eyes have wandered to watch the way your supple lips form those words, he finds that your stare has pinpointed on his own. Golden eyes dart back and forth between his parted lips and So’lek’s own stare.
There is still that voice that cautions to pull back now. It’s the same voice that screams to curl up and escape your attention before it’s too late.
But you don’t hide. There is only honesty in your curious perusal.
For once maybe he can find a way not to hide too.
So’lek breaches the space between you, leaning forward slowly until there is only a whisper of wind between him and the kiss he has desired for weeks. Your noses almost touch.
“Y/N! Where have you gone? You are needed.” A masculine voice calls from around the corner. There is no one else around the desolate fire where the two of you reside. You make no sign of responding to this call. If he veers forward there will still be enough time to capture what he has dreamed of before the two of you are found out.
However, So’lek recognizes this voice. It belongs to the same man that had tried to glare a hole through him last night as the two of you danced and so it’s easy to deduce that this must be one of your awaiting sutors.
A Zeswa male born and raised. A real viable prospect that So’lek is now on the edge of stealing you away from. This is exactly why he has stayed away. And yet all it has taken is one more night in your presence to lose every ounce of self control he has left.
So’lek veers back. The look of quiet disappointment that crosses your face is enough to twist a knot in his stomach.
The male rounds the tent, letting out an exasperated sigh upon spotting the two. “Ah there you are.”
“What is it?” You hiss, head snapping in his direction so fast that your hair flies over one shoulder.
So’lek doesn’t need to look to feel the way this man’s eyes dart between the two of you.
“Ke’ari is hurling his insides all over the healer’s tent.”
Soft features immediately pinch with irritation.
“Aim him towards a vase then. He is one of many who are suffering from over indulgence. I am still treating So’lek. He needs food.”
“I have brought him some.” Of course he has. A deep loathing for the other male may already be forming but So’lek can’t ignore the craft of this suitor. He did not come unprepared.
Hand running through your hair, you take a moment to look up at the sky and conjure the required patience.
“Fine.” The male is unperturbed by your snipped response. He does, however, glower when your expression melts once facing So’lek once more. “Wait here. I will be right back.”
It’s tempting to savor the longing in your voice, the way those honest eyes practically plead for him to stay.
But it’s too late. So’lek regains the reins of his own heart and forces himself to flee at the first chance. The frowning male has no time to implement his intimidation tactics before So’lek is rising onto wobbly legs and searching to retrieve his gear.
He slips that protective armor back on and leaves without taking a single bite.
So’lek’s eyes burn from staring at the bright screen, hardly blinking while trying to decode the mess that is RDA rosters. Little progress is made as he stares down at the shining pad in hand and tries for the fifteenth time to pay attention. Perhaps it was a mistake not eating the offered meal this morning. Even if your eager suitor had poisoned it, he doubts dying from it would feel worse than the egregious hangover he suffers now.
Leaning back against the table, So’lek’s eyes wander again without permission. Headquarters is unusually quiet today, a sign that the party they threw last night was successful enough to put many in the same state So’lek finds himself in the morning after. Priya and Anqa are up, however. Tucked into an alcove near the kitchen they seem to be under the impression that no one can see them here.
Priya’s giggling echoes through the cave and Anqa only shushes her several times before diving back in for another kiss. Usually this is the part where So’lek’s face scrunches in disgust before he flees to a place he won’t be forced to witness such displays. Today that isn’t the case. In fact today, for reasons unbeknownst to him, So’lek can’t seem to tear his eyes away from the scene.
“Suffering as well I see.” The voice startles him, almost enough to lose grip of the glowing pad in hand. Shuffling to avert his gaze from the two lovers and appear nonchalant, he looks over to find it is Ri’nela that approaches with an amused smile. “From the hangover.” She clarifies.
“Oh yes…you are unwell too?” The dark mark on his forehead pinches together when she comes to sit on the table beside him. Her new Na’vi attire is still as neat as ever but there is a drowsiness in her gaze similar to his own.
“You seem to forget that I was invited by the Zeswa too.” Although it doses So’lek with a tinge of guilt there is no ill will in her comment. However, it does leave his mind swirling to different concerns. If she was in fact at the party last night, how much of his interactions had she witnessed? More importantly, how much of it would she share?
“My mind is….clouded this morning,” comes his lame response. Graciously Ri’nela simply gives a hum of understanding before turning towards the direction he was caught looking earlier.
Priya and Anqa have moved on from swallowing each other’s tongues, but they remain lounged in a hanging chair together, Priya perched atop her lover’s lap as she yaps on and on about who knows what. Although Anqa is less animated in her responses, she listens intently. There is nothing but lovesick admiration in her eyes as she endures the endless jabbering, tucking her girlfriend’s purple hair behind her ear or drawing circles on her side occasionally.
“It must be nice.” Ri’nela sighs softly, a wistful air to her tone. When So’lek turns to raise a hairless brow at her she motions to where Anqa and Priya. “Having something like that.”
“You envy the tawtute?” So’lek can’t mask how ridiculous he finds the notion. Ri’nela has always struck him as a reasonable Na’vi. Even one that shows great potential as a leader. What do tawtute have for her to be jealous of?
“Well aren’t you?”
So’lek’s nose scrunches. “No.”
Despite the brunt response, Ri’nela is hardly put out. Her lips perk up slightly and she gives him a gentle look that one does when teaching a small child. “Are you saying you don’t want what they have? A partner? A mate?”
Calling Priya and Anqa mates feels wrong, like a bad taste on his tongue, but he can’t deny they must be something close. After all, they are committed to one another in similar fashion as one does their mate. They always have someone to run to.
“I have not thought about it.” If Ri’nela senses his lie, she doesn’t let it show.
“Hm well I have. It feels kind of impossible though considering our situation.” She sighs and it’s the first thing she has said in this conversation that immediately makes sense to him. Just like him, she is an outcast of sorts. There are only a few that survived in the Sarentu clan and all of them had been kept in with RDA like a lab experiment throughout their adolescence.
“Difficult indeed.”
Ri’nela lets out a sad laugh, something painful shifting in her features. It sets So’lek on edge, already mentally preparing to navigate a situation where he is expected to comfort another. “Sometimes I think that even being a tawtute would be easier than this. They may live on an alien planet, but even those who have left the RDA have found each other and created this place together. Those two have found love here. This is their clan for all intents and purposes.”
So’lek has never thought of it that way. Do Sky People form clans the way Na’vi do? If so this clan is by far the most peculiar one he has ever seen. Then again, they do work as a team. Everyone comes together to maintain their lodging and when dangers comes knocking there are always a group of former RDA military tawtute ready to act like warriors.
“We have nobody.” Ri’nela continues. “No clan, no place to call our own. Even our memories of the clan we once belonged to are hazy. This place is the closest thing we have to a refuge and even here no one can truly teach you what it means to follow your path in life.”
So’lek shrinks, fingers idly twiddling together. Of course things have not been easy for the Sarentu that escaped the TAP program but he didn’t know this is how she views the circumstances.
“And mating…” Ri’nela sighs again, “Mating becomes all the more complicated when you have no clan to pull from.”
“I do not believe now is a good time to mate in general. What is the point when the RDA can easily take away such a bond?”
“Do you really believe that?”
No, not really. If he had been asked a month ago, perhaps. Back then it had only seemed logical to avoid close ties when he is surrounded by death daily. It would be just another thing for the RDA to take from him.
But now…now the words are sour on his tongue.
Ri’nela has this quality about her that is hard to place a finger on. A certain calm vulnerability that somehow makes it difficult to lie to her. So instead of trying, So’lek simply shrugs.
“I think that if I was lucky enough to find something even close to what they have, there is nothing that could keep me from it.” Ri’nela’s gazes with a sad fondness at Priya and Anqa. There is a longing glimmer to true there that it has his own stare pulled back to the couple. “Someone to weather this storm with. A person that knows you in a way unmatched by any other, and still they choose you. A bond that reminds you why life is so precious, makes it more than just surviving.”
Is that what Anqa and Priya have? Something worth living for? On the surface it has always seemed like some gooey infatuation, a naive romance that he is forced to witness. But perhaps it is more than that. So’lek doesn’t often think about what life would be like as a tawtute, in fact he never does, but can imagine it not being the most comfortable of circumstances. They are not even able to breathe the Pandoran air around them without suffocating. Going back to their home planet is no good option either as it is already dead.
So then maybe Ri’nela has a point. Priya and Anqa find happiness in their day to day affairs, affairs that include risking their lives to fight against their corrupt former employers, despite the harrowing circumstances. They always have a reason to smile, something to laugh at. And it’s just hitting him now that this reason is each other.
“I’m sure you will find something like that, Ri’nela.” The hypocrisy burns So’lek’s throat. How can he claim to believe that when those rules don’t apply to himself? The survivors from the Sarentu clan are the people closest to having the same experience as his own. To have faith in Ri’nela finding a mate not himself goes against all logic.
“Only time will tell.” Although still melancholy, Ri’nela sends him a sympathetic smile. She rises from the table and goes to make her exit. So nonchalant in her retreat as if she has not induced a spiral of thought for him to wind into.
She pauses just before reaching the corner and turns to him again. “I know it is not any of my business, but you should know how lucky you are.”
So’lek’s heart drops to his stomach.
“Don’t let her get away.”
So’lek would prefer to blame Ri’nela for his inability to sleep that night. After all, she is the one that dropped a bomb on him with her speech about mating. Not to mention the only person in headquarters that has knowledge of his love life and the ability to make his feelings for you public domain.
However, that would be dishonest. And at the end of the day he knows that tonight was always going to end this way. He has been trying to get his mind off of you for weeks, in fact every time he has returned from the Zeswa camp, and it has always been unsuccessful. And now the fact that two of you had almost shared a kiss only amplifies that obsession more.
It was already hard enough to control his desires when he could believe that it was a one-sided longing. But now that he knows there is some interest on your side as well, fighting the demons in his head is borderline impossible. You knew he was going to kiss you. You knew and you not only were ready to let him but showed disappointment when he failed to do so.
How is he ever supposed to resist now that he knows the object of his desires is at his fingertips? That there is a chance he can have you.
Perhaps not as a mate. It would be naive of him to assume his ever growing feelings for you are reciprocated in the same manner. But even knowing you desire him in a physical manner is enough to have him rolling over in the hammock and biting into the material.
This is absolute madness.
What is his plan? Avoiding the Zeswa clan forever can surely not be it. He can try to reduce the amount of time spent there but they are still allies so there will always be occasional visits required. Even then, does he really trust that distance will be enough to get rid of these feelings?
No, this is not a phase that will pass.
And even if So’lek were to find a way of dealing with feelings without intervening in your courtings, what would that change? It would mean that another male comes along and makes you their mate eventually. And every day from then on he would be forced to face the fact that he is in love with a mated woman. He would have to witness that union every time he visits with indifference while everything within him would ache to rip this male’s throat out with his teeth.
So’leks stuff a growl down his throat. Eywa above, what is wrong with him? Never before has he felt so connected to the primal beast inside of him. For years he has been a master of not only his emotions but impulses as well. But you’ve awakened something else within him. Something that has laid dormant for years and now refuses to go back to sleep.
When he’s not echoing your perfect laugh in his head, he’s imagining the way you would groan his name. When he’s not recalling the silly story you told him earlier that day with a smile, he is crafting fantasies of his tongue lapping the sweet nectar between your legs. And when he is not pushing back every pulse of his heart that sings for you, he is grinding his teeth at the thought of another ever loving you the way he does, yearning for you the way does.
Everything circles back to you.
You have torn him apart from the inside out and the worst part is, he doubts you have any true inkling of this. At most, you understand there is a flirting atmosphere between you two.
So where does that leave him? It seems there is only one option that has the potential to lead him away from years of insanity. However, that means facing exactly what he has avoided for weeks.
Telling you the truth.
So’lek is a man. He can and will face rejection if necessary, although the idea of that somehow has his insides curling with dread. If it were only a matter of gaining the courage he would have unrooted his tail from between his legs and told you weeks ago. But that is not the main issue.
The real danger is having those feelings reciprocated, because that would then mean being open to mating. That would mean letting all of his hard work to protect you go down the drain and instead take you selfishly for himself. And he hasn’t done that. He hasn’t done that because…well because he is not worthy of you.
Then again, does that imply that your current suitors are the opposite? What do they possess that he does not?
They grew up in a clan, in your clan nonetheless. And So’lek didn’t. He has no clan.
His conversation with Ri’nela bubbles up again. Does he truly believe that not having a clan means being subjected to a life without a mate? He would not wish that to be true for Ri’nela’s sake. Or Teylan’s. Or really any of the other Sarentu that are left. If she were to come to him in a similar situation, having found interest in someone within the Zeswa clan he would approve of her going after that connection. So why does he not approve of that for himself?
He does not have a deep understanding of his culture or know exactly what it means to have People of your own. And somehow that makes him unworthy of you. Because one day, a long time ago, the Sky People rained hellfire on his home and took away his clan.
Does that one instance mark him as damaged goods for the rest of his life?
If so, that seems to be a lot of power to put in the Sky People’s hands. It means that the Sky People not only took everything he had with such ease, but also everything he could ever gain for the rest of his life. And So’lek…So’lek is so damn tired of having things stolen from him.
It is not fair for the RDA to steal you away from him too. If he is unworthy of you it is simply because of his shortcomings in character and light when compared to your vibrance. Not because of circumstances he did not choose. You are too good for him, So’lek can recognize that, however that does not mean he is not allowed to chase you like the others.
Ri’nela prays to find someone to spend her life with, a mate she can call her own, and So’lek can no longer deny that he wants the same too. He does not want to simply survive anymore, he wants to thrive. But unlike Ri’nela, he is lucky enough to already understand who he wants that with.
So he’s not willing to let you slip away.
Not before he has given it everything he has first.
It is only when So’lek hears one of the tawtute’s alarm go off that it becomes clear has had not slept a wink all night. And yet, So’lek has never been filled with so much energy. He dresses and grooms himself within record time, ignoring the puzzled looks that are sent his way. It seems that nothing matters besides getting to the Zeswa camp as fast as possible.
Wrestling his emotions all night has left him with a buzzing energy that threatens to make him explode. He needs to tell you and he needs to tell you now. Every second that this remains unresolved is another that has So’lek on edge.
And so the trip to the upper plains has never felt longer. Although he makes the trek with incredible speed, his feet don’t take a second to adjust their stomping pace once he enters the camp. In fact, they only drum faster against the long grass as he hunts you down among the bustle. No thought is put into the expression he exhibits or body language, so So’lek doesn’t pay attention to the Na’vi that drive out of his way in fear.
There is nothing but cold steel determination laced with an anxiousness that overtakes him.
Then there you are. Long hair blowing in the wind and basket in hand as you carefully weave the next row. So’lek’s lungs finally fill with air. Has it truly only been a day since he has seen you? How was he foolish enough to believe he could ever continue being around you without trying his hand at making you his? Heavy steps cross the space, almost on the brink of jogging to where you stand next to a tent.
When your tails perk and eyes finally clock the impending advance of his tall frame, there is a surprised glimmer in your expression. Even a shot of excitement in those beautiful golden eyes that has all of So’lek’s restraint depleting.
“So’lek, what are you doing here?”
He doesn’t answer with words. Instead he springs the last two steps into your space and immediately hunches to plant his lips against yours. His long fingers curl at the nape of your neck while his thumb caresses your cheek. Although your response is lagged from shock, it doesn’t take long for your lips to meld with his in perfect unison.
So’lek gives everything to that kiss. Every night that he has laid awake thinking about you. Every sputter that his heart has wrenched from your laughter as he has fallen off a pa’li over and over. Every ounce of desire that rushes through him like a river bashing against a dam ready to break.
Deepening the kiss, he refrains, however, from letting it get too vulgar. If he lets that primal creature inside of him lose now, he’ll take you right here and now before talking anything through. It’s difficult to remember this, however. Technically his plan was to speak to you then take his shot at a kiss but So’lek can find room for regret when you taste like everything sweet he has been missing for years. You are just as soft as he imagined. Even more addicting than he could have envisioned.
When So’lek breaks away your lips are already a pretty shade of pink, parted to release heavy breaths. Those golden eyes are now only a sliver of color as your pupils have dilated and eyes widened in disbelief.
“I should have done that yesterday.” That truth gives little explanation, but it’s the only words he manages to get out without sticking his tongue down your throat.
Your chest heaves and features morph into a delighted shock. Seeing you like this is more satisfying than he could put into words. You’ve always been the outspoken one between the two of you, but now it is him that renders you speechless.
So’lek almost goes in for another kiss before the weight of several gazes finally register. Turning over his shoulder he finds that you are not alone in weaving your basket. In fact there is a group of Na’vi sitting on the ground holding their own materials, watching with wide eyes and dropped jaws. It hits him then. You aren’t just sitting here working on your own basket. You are in the middle of teaching a class.
A class he has so dramatically disrupted.
“I apologize for the interruption.” And he should be, he really should be but So’lek doesn’t even believe his own words at this point. He stalks off simply out of respect for the class and the chance to remember how to behave in public.
It won’t matter though, not when he can feel the prickle of your wide-eyed gaze along his back.
So’lek lingers just outside of camp in an alcove of blood leaf trees. It’s just enough space for him to catch his breath, try to clear his head as he waits for your class to finish. Palms spread along the bark in front of him. So’lek drops his head between his outstretched arms and focuses on inhaling and exhaling. The exercise is borderline pointless when each inhale only sparks attention to your taste lingering on his tongue.
Never before would he consider himself this impulsive or irrational but even now that he has made a spectacle in front of everybody, So’lek fights the urge to turn around and do it all over again. He barely resists the aching need to stomp back into camp, throw you over his shoulder and carry you into the woods where he can finally have his way with you.
So’lek spins on his heel, leaning against the tree with his head thrown backwards now. This is insanity.
His nostrils flare the second there is a trace of your essence in the wind. So’lek almost wishes he wouldn’t have looked because now he is sucked in by the way your breasts bounce as you jog from the camp towards him.
Great Mother above, how is going to have a conversation with you while in this state?
Luckily, or perhaps not so lucky, you are in no mood for conversation either. So’lek doesn’t get out a simple hello before you are bounding into his chest and pulling him down for another kiss. This time there are no boundaries keeping the kiss from turning absolutely filthy. That devious tongue swirls around his own until So’lek is capturing your bottom lip between his teeth in retribution.
Fuck, you are so much trouble.
“Wait…mh...wait.” You don’t afford him the space for speaking so So’lek eventually catches your upper arms in a firm grip and establishes some distance. “Wait for one moment.”
“No, I’m sick of waiting.” Voice teetering on a whine, you brush off the hold and capture his lips back to yours. So’lek feels like he is being torn in two. It’s important to talk things through, make sure that you understand just how deep his feelings are, but with the way his tewng struggles to keep his hard cock trapped, it is only a matter of time before instincts overcome logic.
So you leave him with no choice.
With one graceful swoop he has you manhandled back against the tree, arms planted on either side of your head to keep you bracketed there. “You need to listen.” So’lek seethes and it comes out far angrier than he intended.
In spite of that, your eyes take on a new sparkle. Those beautifully swollen lips part and soft features morph into a dazed shock just as they had done after that first kiss. Except this time, the aroma of arousal thickens.
Fuck, you’re into this. You like the way he has wrestled you into place. You like how he towers over you now and demands to be heard. Perhaps it is the only reason your protests have immediately stopped. He needs to get this off of his chest before the ability to make full sentences leave him entirely.
So So’lek blurts it all out in a heated rush.
“I did not come here to fool around once. That is not what this is. I am here because it is physically impossible for me to stay away. There is not an hour that goes by where I don’t long to be with you, even in your presence if that is what I can get. I have no clan. I don’t know the customs of your people and I often have a disposition that makes people want to run away rather than draw near. I am not like your other suitors, I do not offer the same things. All of this I know and have tried to respect but it seems no iron will I construct is strong enough to keep me from wanting you all the same.”
You don’t dare to blink and disconnect his gaze from yours.
“And want you I do, paskalin. But not just once, not just in a way that satisfies our bodies alone. I yearn to have every part of you that can be offered.” One step closer and So’lek’s can practically feel the drumming of your rampant heart against his chest. “So if this is not what you want, then you need to tell me now. Because I know that once we cross this threshold, once I get one more taste of you there will be no going back for me. You will have my heart until my dying breath.”
Winds whips against his back. Second feel like years as dainty hands wind up his arms and clasp at the nape of his neck.
“Maybe if you weren’t so stubborn, So’lek, you would already know that I have been yours since the moment we met.”
The next connection of lips is softer, far more patient than the ravaging before. It allows So’lek to fall into your confession properly, to let it settle into his head and heart that this is real. That you are truly sunk into his embrace, candy on his lips, and heart open for him entirely.
So’lek pours every fiber of gratitude into this kiss. He winds his love into the tender brush of his fingers across your cheek. His tail curves around your thigh with the solemn promise to protect you until his heart stops beating. And you breathe in every silent promise he makes with one of your own.
Your long lashes tickle his cheeks and small hands rooted in his hair causes So’lek’s knees to weaken.
This tender moment can only last so long, however. That deep seated fire has not been forgotten and with every second the two of you remain entangled, the hotter it burns. That shift is prevalent in the way you go from running nails over his scalp to tugging on the long locks to pull him closer. So’lek’s own hands go from tender exploration to greedy groping down your hips and backside.
A part of him would question the harshness and vulgarity of his actions were it not for the way you now moan into his mouth. You take every crude touch delivered and beg for more in the same breath.
So’lek only departs from your lips to finally slot his face into the crook of your neck. Nose running along a vein of your throat, he is free to drown in the place where your aroma is most potent. But it’s not enough to breathe you in, not even sufficient to simply witness the way his scent now intertwines with yours. He must taste it, must run his tongue over every inch of perfectly delicious skin like he has dreamed of for weeks.
The flat of his tongue draws over from your collarbone to the edge of your jaw. You don’t hide your sound of delight, nor the obvious push of your pelvis to find his own. Bruising kisses turn into sucking deep marks at the vulnerable skin. So’lek only pauses when you manage to crane your head down and capture one of his ears carefully between sharp teeth. The tip of your tongue follows a smooth path at the shell of his ear. It taunts a deep rumble from his chest.
Pulling back, So’lek hardly gets a chance to witness your pleased smirk before he is caught in another kiss. Unlike the first day in the healer’s tent when you had been hesitant to touch his chest guard, you now use it as your personal leash to bring him closer. Those small hands dig into the tough material and yank without reserve.
Not that it’s needed. So’lek would gladly crawl at your feet if it means getting to devour you once more.
However, it quickly becomes not enough. His mouth salivates at the idea of tasting another sweet part he has been dreaming of. You give no struggle when his hand hitches behind your knee, allowing him to curve that long leg around his waist and press your pelvises together. It takes bending his own knees to account for the height difference but it’s worth all of the hassle when feeling the heat that literally radiates through your tewng.
So’lek suddenly becomes all too aware of how overdressed he is in comparison. That sentiment must be shared because your eyes dance with excitement when he is haphazardly shucking off the chest guards and gear attached. Your own chest piece does little to hide those perfectly shaped breasts, one nipple managing to slip out from under a feather, and even more so does not hide that now red hue over the area. It seems that all your grinding against him, has consequently rutted your chest over his radio and other hard gear.
Perhaps he should feel bad but all So’lek can think about instead is whether or not his teeth and tongue could exhibit a similar reaction along your perfect breasts. Is the other nipple as hard as the one that has slipped out?
It’s as if you can read his mind, or rather notice where his gaze has lowered to have him drooling, because without a single prompting you are undoing the clasp and letting the delicate top fall away.
So’lek would judge any other male for acting the way he does now. So easily reduced to a mouth breathing imbecile just from a natural part of female anatomy. But perhaps he simply didn’t get it until now. Staring at those beautifully pointed nipples and curved breasts the perfect size for his hands, he thinks he may just now understand why a sight like that never gets old. At least, not when it’s yours.
You grasp the hand not holding your leg, confidently guiding his palm to rest over the right breast. So’lek requires no further invitation. He squeezes and savors the squishy weight in his hand, drawing his thumb over that perky nipple that is begging to be sucked. Delight spikes his blood pressure when he witnesses how his calloused fingertips tighten the bud.
“So’lek please! I’m not fragile.”
His name has never sounded so beautiful. Those wicked eyes ensnare him without an ounce of bashfulness. Caught between two temptations So’lek eventually drops your leg in favor of using both hands to explore this new uncovered skin.
The first time he pinches one nipple between his fingertips and tugs it brings on a sound from your throat so sudden and lewd it makes his cock twitch in its confines.
“Harder.”
So’lek’s pupils dilate. What a little pain slut you’ve turned out to be and from the blissed expression you wear now, there is not an ounce of you that is ashamed of it. Nor should you be. Every new discovery is a gift So’lek delights in unwrapping.
“Always so demanding, paskalin.” Voice gravelly and thick with lust, So’lek bends down further until his lips are skating over the swell of your breasts.
“I’m actually quite a patient person.” Even with labored breath your quip doesn’t lose its whip.
“Is that so?” It is by no means playing fair, but So’lek latches his lips around your left nipple before letting you respond. He rolls the raised flesh between his teeth, biting down just hard enough to capture the peak and pull it back.
You have a handful of braids gathered in your grip tightly but they don’t stop the retreat of his head. You let out a guttural groan, rising onto your toes as if to enhance the sharp sting. And still, your determination to get out a response does not falter.
“I’ve waited for you this long, haven’t I? Agh Eywa mm…flirted with you for weeks waiting for you to take the bait.”
So’lek switches to the other side, snapping his teeth around the raised bud before muttering, “You poor thing.”
“Mock me all you want but you’re cruel for making me wait.” A gasp bubbles up your throat when he pinches the disregarded nipple while the other is nipped by his teeth. “A woman has needs, So’lek.”
Those words have his ears perking in interest, even lapping at the abused flesh so you have a better chance at finishing that thought.
“Thinking of you with my hand between my thighs is only good for so long before I start wanting the real thing.”
A string of saliva still connecting your nipple to his lips, So’lek pulls back to look up at you. “Is that what you do, paskalin? Touch yourself while you dream about me?”
Then with zero hesitation, “I was three fingers deep inside myself this morning while I pondered what your cock would feel like down my throat.”
Static fills his head, the only sound bouncing in his skull is your unabashed confession. This morning. You had been touching yourself to the thought of him this morning. Meaning while he was buzzing with adrenaline, thoughts wild and uncontained at the thought of what if, as he made the trek to the Zeswa camp, you were exploring the parts of yourself he had been dreaming of for weeks while conjuring dirty fantasies of him. So’lek had been spiraling and questioning all of his desires with no knowledge that you were already his for the taking.
And that’s what it has been. Weeks and weeks of him dreaming and wishing and overthinking while you waited patiently for him to untuck his tail and do something about it. How long has he gone on torturing himself while you’ve been right here?
Too long.
Way too fucking long.
But now, he is determined to make up for every second of lost time.
“You are trouble.” Voice rough with a rumbling depth, you are unbothered by his change in inflection.
“I’m just being honest.” You shrug, lips tempted into a crooked smirk. “Don’t ask the question if you can’t handle the answer.”
Your confident snip simultaneously delights and taunts him. It tugs at the part of him that no longer wants to be gentle or conscientious. You are coaxing out the beast in him that is nothing but teeth, and from your self satisfied smirk it’s clear you know it too.
So’lek rises back to his full height, dragging his muscular form along your sweet curves until his impressive frame is molded against your own. When you crane your neck to look at him he witnesses your dilated pupils even beneath the shadow that he has cast over you. It’s So’lek’s hand now that roots into your hair, yanking you forward into a demanding kiss.
He gives no room for air, slotting his nose along yours and devouring you with vengeance. So’lek has to hold back a vicious smirk at the moan you release once he begins sucking on your tongue. Dulls nails dig into his waist, clawing to bring him impossibly closer. They seek to draw blood in retaliation when he finally breaks the kiss.
“You are not the only one who has been waiting for a taste, paskalin.”
You grin and lean forward, interpreting that as another filthy kiss coming your way. However, it is not your lips that he speaks of now. Or at least, not those lips. Your tail whips in surprise when large hands begin undoing the string around it. So’lek tugs and digs at those knots without preamble, watching your pretty face as you realize where this is heading.
Once the offensive garment is ripped away he drops to his knees. His nostrils flare, greedily taking in your thick essence but it's not enough. So’lek roughly yanks one of your legs over his shoulder and his ears twitch to catch your pretty gasp. Now teetering on one leg while the other is curved over his broad shoulder, you are perfectly laid out for him.
So’lek barely has enough time to appreciate the view before his instincts demand a taste. Intricate stripes along your inner thighs and navel create an alluring path to the treasure between your legs. So’lek runs the tip of his nose along one stripe of your thigh before stopping less than an inch from your soaked cunt.
Eywa above, his vivid imagination could never compare to the beauty that lies before him now!
Your needy clit is already engorged, a pretty pearl that begs to be played with. He uses his thumbs to part your lips and get an unobstructed view. Hot breath tickles your sensitive core causing your now displayed entrance to flutter. Watching the way your pussy grasps at nothing has So’lek caught between wanting to drown himself in your juices or fill you with his aching cock.
“So’lek, you are such a fucking tease I-”
The end of that complaint is strangled into a whine when his lips close around your clit. A small hand pushes at the back of his head. As if he would need the encouragement. So’lek smothers himself in your warmth. Nose slotted between your lips his tongue runs up the sensitive cut of you, collecting every ounce of sticky arousal it can find. The tip of his tongue then circles around that pulsing bud until your clitoral hood is pushed back and he can attack the nerve dead on.
That action conjures a violent reaction. Hips buck back at him hard enough to have your one supporting leg struggling to remain planted. So’lek takes that as his cue to take pity on you. He slinks the other leg over his shoulder and wraps his arms around your thighs to support the weight. This way he has full control of wrangling your soaked cunt to his lips while you no longer have to focus on standing.
“Oh Eywa! More…more So’lek…I need more.” Although your voice has flitted into desperate gasps, it loses none of its conviction.
Your demands push him further, his tongue now spearing into your pussy with a desire to explore. Fuck, even around his tongue you are tight as a vise. So’lek rises to his feet, keeping you sat on his shoulders as your back glides along the tree trunk. If you have a fear of heights it is not voiced as you are pinned against the trunk and ravaged.
“Right there! Right there! Ah yes! Right-”
That constantly babbling has never been more beautiful than now. His tongue curves to hit that oh so special spot that has your thighs shaking around his head. So’lek’s nails dig into your ass to spread you wider as your own viciously claws into his scalp.
With the perfect combination of his tongue fucking up into you and his nose rutting along your clit, your first orgasm comes in no time. So’lek drinks up every last drop selfishly. He considers it a reward after all of this time he’s behaved, been patient and tried to get you out of his head. Now that you’ve broken his resolve, it’s only fair that you give him everything that you have. That he collects what belongs to him.
When So’lek finally peels away, he finds you catching your breath while one hand grips a tree branch above. He’s caught staring but even with a flushed hue over your cheeks, you simply let out a breathy laugh in a daze. Your legs are shaking as he lowers you back onto your feet but that isn’t enough to deter you.
Half of his face coated in your essence, So’lek graciously obeys the hands that yank him down for another kiss. It seems right that you get to taste how delicious you are too. His big hands wrap around either side of your neck, angling your face upwards and deeper into the kiss.
Meanwhile, it seems that even in the afterglow of a climax, you can’t refrain from being a minx. Confident hands map the territory of his slim hips and v line before one sneaks back to grab his ass. His dark chuckle is passed between his lips to yours as you hold back a devious smirk.
“Your turn.” You demand, tugging at the waistband of his loincloth with the patience of a child waiting to unwrap a present. The motion only increases the ache in his groin, somewhat surprised that the piece of fabric has managed to contain his boner.
So’lek practically jumps out of his skin when you slip past the waistband. His left hand slams against the tree trunk as he groans when you wrap around his base, thumb running up a thick vein. The fire in his eyes matches your own. This is a game of tug a war. Weeks of yearning and dreaming have left both of you utterly insatiable. Matched in intensity, you too are determined to take everything your desired mate has to offer.
And So’lek is going to deliver it to you on a silver platter.
That is, after he gets his own chunk of flesh.
Hastily undoing the string of his tewng, So’lek slots his face into your neck as you start a slow but firm pace stroking him. It is borderline torture, the way you already know how to apply the perfect amount of pressure at the right places while still having your fun sweeping a thumb over his head to collect the precum there. A sweat breaks out along his forehead. He finds himself wishing for a hair tie to wrangle his now messy braids out of the way as he holds back from exploding all over your stomach.
“You’re so pretty.” You marvel, aroused scent intermingling with his own as you stare down with blown out pupils. Fuck, you are going to kill him if you keep looking at him like that. It’s no wonder his feral instincts have taken over. When yours are already unleashed it’s impossible to hold back. He was a fool for ever thinking he could escape your taunting.
“No,” So’lek nearly barks when you try to sink down onto your knees. He quickly wraps a firm hand around your bicep to urge you back up. Those plump lips part, no doubt preparing to protest, perhaps say something about how unfair he’s been for once again making you wait. So’lek cuts in before you get the chance. “I need to be inside you. Now.”
It’s impossible to keep back the rugged timber that takes over his words. Even more so impossible to hide the desperation that fills him to the brim. As much as he is overtaken by the thought of your talented mouth wrapped around him, he knows there is no way he will be able to hold himself back from coming then. And when he reaches that high for the first time with you, So’lek wants nothing more than to be buried deep inside of you, feeling the way you unravel around him.
But his body is already far too close to the edge. A heat coils in his abdomen and every touch you deposit has his tip leaking more sticky precum. This needs to happen now before he loses it prematurely.
Luckily, your attitude appears to be put into check by his words. All signs of disappointment quickly shift into a raw fervor, hands grabbing for his shoulders. So’lek takes the cue in stride, hoisting your knee up to his hip and positioning himself at your entrance.
And then he hesitates.
So’lek is not small by any means and he has not properly prepared you for him.
“Oh Eywa,” You groan, “I stretched myself out this morning, So’lek just…please!”
That whine and pinched expression is borderline distressed and therefore all the encouragement he requires to slink forward. You’re his mate and as you’ve said, a woman has needs. From here on out he is going to be the sole provider for every single one of yours.
It takes a hand to your hip in order to keep control of his pace sinking inside. So’lek’s hairless brows furrow and muzzle wrinkles at the difficulty required to keep himself from plunging inside with one thrust. Sweet sounds wracking your throat, you provide no help as your hips keep trying to slant forward. At this point there is going to be an imprint of his fingers from where they press into your hip.
So’lek lets out a harsh breath.
Stars above, that thought has the potential to send him down a very dark hole. Just thinking about all the ways and places he can mark you has his ball drawing up against his body.
When he is finally seated all the way inside, pelvis flush against your own, both of you take a moment to breathe. Panted air tickles his chest from where you have your forehead slants against his collarbone. His own nose buries into that luscious hair that he has admired flying in the wind for weeks.
So’lek’s tail wraps around your planted leg and it’s then that he feels the way you are on the verge of collapsing. Hooking an arm underneath that knee he swipes it to his waist. The new angle makes both of you groan but you are quick to lock both ankles at the base of his spine and cling for dear life.
This moment is sacred.
The first of many times that he can feel what it means to be intimately intertwined with you in a way only inferior to making tsaheylu. So much distance he has kept between the two of you only to now gorge himself in a closeness beyond anything he has ever experienced. And someday, someday very soon, it will be even more. Once he has courted you properly, showered you with the love and attention has wanted to give you from the very beginning, the two of you will make the bond.
A permanent entanglement that he will cherish until the end of his days.
“So’lek,” You whisper. Nothing but his name against his chest until your right hand is reaching up to brush his cheek. He nuzzles into your palm without thought before ducking down until your cheek is sliding against his own. It’s in this primal act of scenting that his hips finally begin to move.
Long languid thrusts that have you shuddering against him while his teeth bite into his bottom lip hard enough to draw blood. In this state you are an open book. Every spike of your pleasure is indicated by the way you squeeze his cock, or dig your nails into his shoulder blades, or even nips at his pulse point. There is nothing demure about your exploration.
As his pace picks up, now figuring out where that sweet spot is to torment, your soft hands are mapping every inch of him they can reach. His neck, his shoulders, every rigid line of his abdomen. When one hand reaches to squeeze his muscular bicep his tail coils.
You are matched in desire perfectly, a fact that threatens to coax him into spilling inside of you instantly. So’lek has to grit his teeth to hold back even as your lips find his own again. This kiss is a mess of saliva and haphazard coordination as the increased speed of his thrusts have you jackhammering up the tree trunk. It doesn’t matter.
All So’lek can focus is your sweet sounds and how eagerly your body welcomes him in.
“Paskalin,” He groans, barely managing to tear away from your lips. “You are everything.”
He witnesses the way those words sink in, how long it takes for them to settle before you are able to smile back at him in your disheveled state. This smile is unique from the many others he has seen you wear. It is one not meant for the public eye, a rare form that one can only be seen in an intimate setting like this. A smile that now only shines for him.
A burst of adrenaline courses through his veins. Tired muscles renew tenfold, cock driving up into you now with uncontained zeal. This burst of energy has him entirely distracted so when a foreign touch suddenly scrapes his kuru, So’lek just about buckles and takes you both to the ground.
With a hiss he rights himself and pushes you harder against the tree. Nails glide over his protective braid with a featherlight pressure before sweeping over his shoulder and getting dangerously close to the exposed tendrils.
So’lek’s jaw clamps hard enough to make his teeth ache.
“Don’t do that, tanhi [star]. You’re going to make me come.”
“My thoughts exactly.” That devious hitch in your voice cracks when he sends a harsh thrust in reprimanding.
“I mean it.” He grits.
“So do I.” Baby hairs plastered to your damp forehead, you stare him down with a renewed fervor. “I want all of you, So’lek. Everything.”
The dancing tendrils of his kuru are dragged along your shoulder teasingly. His vision zeroes in on the sight, muscles of his abdomen tightening. Your forehead tips against his own, lashes almost kissing his cheek.
“Please don’t make me beg,” you whisper.
It’s intentional, the way your pussy clamps around him in a vice like grip as those words leave your lips. So’lek can no longer remember why he was trying to draw this out as he rickets his hips upwards and gets lost in the feeling of his kuru tendrils wrapping around one of your fingers.
Whatever composure you had temporarily regained becomes frazzled once more as the head of his cock knocks at your sweet spot over and over again with overwhelming accuracy. Your cries muddle together just as your orgasm comes to line up with his.
So’lek has felt no greater relief than releasing himself deep inside of tight heat. Stars dot his vision while you milk him for all that he is worth, panting against his neck. His kuru is dropped and So’lek’s knees wobble, for the first time finding difficulty in holding both of your weight.
He becomes a statue following that high. His brain rings with the same dead sound the computers at headquarters make. You are no better off, clinging to him for dear life as your breasts push against him with every rushed exhale. The first movement is your arms cinching tighter around his neck. A strangely innocent and endearing hug considering the lewd entanglement the two of you maintain.
Gently, So’lek slips out and guides you back onto your feet. He has to scramble when your knees immediately buckle. Swiping his arms beneath your own, he coaxes you to lean your weight on him.
“Are you alright?” His worried tone is in direct contrast to the breathy laugh you give.
“Yeah, I’m fine.” You giggle, clinging to his shoulders. “They’ll work again…eventually.”
Your eyes crinkle in the same way they do when watching him fall off of a pa’li. So’lek’s lips curve into their own grin. His lips are still stretched wide when he plants tender kisses to your hairline.
“You smell good,” You hum.
So’lek chuckles fondly before noticing the combined spend that trails down your inner thighs. He has nothing but his gear with him out here in the fields. The only fabric he carries is a small bundle of bandages but he used up the last of it a few days ago. His lips turn down. He will need to be more prepared than this now that he has a mate to look after.
“Paskalin, let me find something to clean you up with.”
“No no shhh,” You reach up and place a finger against his lips. “Stop thinking for one second and hold me.”
So’lek’s heart twists at your little antics, silently obeying your request, shifting both of you to lay on the long grass. Sweaty limbs tangle together, your smaller form messily sprawled across him until your hair is twisted over his abdomen. So’lek slings and arm over your back to cradle you closer.
This is always the part he has missed. Various partners over the years and yet not one of them holding the tender affection that radiates between the two of you now. The chance to just hold and bask in the other’s presence. Little touches that speak volumes louder than he ever could. So’lek is not good with words. He never says the right thing or in the right way.
But he can do this. He can drench the sweet brush of his fingertips over your skin with the weight of every confession he has ever been tempted to give you. He can radiate the deep love that blossoms in his chest with every soft kiss to your hairline and swipe of his thumb over your cheek. And he can feel the same devotion reciprocated every time you snuggle further into his chest or trace lines over his abdomen.
Before long your tail whips out to jest with his curious fingers. He swipes over the thin appendage, watching the way it flickers and circles around his wrist before letting go. The tuft of hair at the end tickles his forearm as it playfully taunts and bats away from his touch. This little game is more amusing than he cares to admit.
A muffled giggle against his chest tells him that his fixation is not concealed. However, for the first time in weeks he’s allowed to not care. There is no lingering regret at showing his cards to you or betraying his emotions to be analyzed. With you he gets to let that mask fall away, allowing you to see a part of him so vulnerable that So’lek thought it had died off years ago.
“I will be ready again in about ten minutes.” You state, smiling while tracing the veins of his left arm. The insinuation and expectation is clear and it shakes a surprised laugh from his lungs.
“And if I am not, paskalin?” So’leks goads with a smirk.
You shift onto your stomach, chin resting atop his chest so that you can look at him directly now. Your tail lashes behind you as you smirk up at him. “Then you better find a way to be.”
So’lek lets out a low chuckle, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. Your smile, however, falters when you notice something. Legs still shaky and weak, you try to climb up his chest to get a better look. He’s unsure what you are getting at but So’lek doesn’t hesitate in cinching a hand behind your knee and using that grip to slide you upwards.
Hairless brows furrowed and bottom lip on the verge of jutting into a pout, one dainty finger runs over the skin beneath his eyes. It is only then he realizes that he must have dark circles beneath his eyes from not sleeping last night.
“You did not sleep.”
It truly is of little importance but watching how genuinely concerned you are by it may just be the most endearing thing he has ever witnessed. It reminds him of the day you met. The first time was subjected to your insistent care as he writhed and tried to assure you he was fine. If only back then he knew what he knows now. You always take care of him, of anyone and everyone in your vicinity.
No matter what front he has put up. Regardless of every effort he has made to convince you and himself that he does not need this, it has never been a match for you. You who not only sees through his walls but knocks them down with that infectious grin. The Great Mother has blessed him with the only woman stubborn enough to break him the way he truly needed.
“I was up thinking.”
You scoff, rolling your eyes. “Of course you were. What am I going to do with you?” You give him a reprimanding glare but fondness seeps into your beautiful features before you are scooting upwards again.
So’lek expects a kiss, lashes already flutter over his cheeks in anticipation but then those lips are not touching his. Instead a delicate kiss is placed over each eyelid, as if to kiss the sleep deprivation away.
When So’lek opens his eyes you are already shuffling to tuck your face against his neck nonchalantly as if you have not made his heart overflow with one simple move.
This is what Ri’nela had been talking about. Not just surviving but thriving. Have a place to call home, or perhaps in his case someone. For years his sole drive in life has been to repay the RDA for the tragedies they have rained on Pandora, on his clan. That has been his purpose. There has always been something to fight for.
But for the first time in years he now has someone to fight for as well.
Please don't hesitate to share your thoughts! I spent way too much time obsessing over this so getting some feedback/interaction would mean the world to me<3
"Taglist" AKA peeps I thought might like this: @pandoraslxna @tallulah477 @eywaite
Summary: you decide to go destress and before you realize it you’re ovulating. good thing your man knows too!
Warnings: lowercase intended! smut, smut, smut, and more smut! So’lek and reader are mated (mentioned briefly) a hint of possessiveness but nothing too crazy! some teasing but it’s literally just p in v sex! there’s a small mention of Teylan (he’s my baby) and Priya! please let me know if i missed anything!
A/N: this is my first official fic so i apologize in advance! credits to the owners of the pictures! all dividers are from @diviniyae ! i got them from pinterest! i tried my best but i hope you enjoy! i’m ovulating and i’m craving So’lek soooo bad 😵💫
Word count: uhh idk i wrote this in my notes app :/
Na’vi Translations:
tewng: loincloth
tsaheylu: bond, neural connection
tìyawn: love
ma: vocative marker
nga yawne lu oer: i love you
yawne/yawntu: beloved/loved one
yawntutsyìp: little loved one/darling
yerik: hexapede
palulukan: thanator
you’re finally able to rest after a long day of helping the clans and the Resistance. it seemed like the day would never end; Priya needed spare parts from an abandoned RDA site, (which led you into an ambush of RDA) you had to intercept a supply convoy for the Aranahe, and even Teylan worked your last nerve. you just wanted a peaceful and relaxing night, away from everyone and away from responsibilities. a nice soak in the lake away from Hometree should do the trick.
by the time you arrive at lake the sun has set and the forest glows with such beauty that you’re still not used to. you take a deep sigh and begin to lay your weapons down before taking off your clothes. setting them down in a nice pile before stepping into the lake. the moment your body hits the water your shoulders immediately relax. you hum softly as you take in the sight around you, the trees move with the wind as if they’re one. the bioluminescent patterns sparkle everywhere and there’s a sense of comfort that hits your chest. as you relax you think about the day you had before your mind begins to drift towards him. so’lek. you haven’t seen nor heard from him all day. there’s a slight pang to your chest but there shouldn’t be. you know he’s busy, just like you but you still miss him dearly. you thought being mated would mean more time together, such a naïve thought. you sink deeper into the water to rid yourself of those negative thoughts. instead, your brain starts to shift to other thoughts about so’lek.
the way he carries himself, no matter how tired or angry he would never direct it toward you. his smile that was only reserved for you. that soft voice; a nice deep rumble but Eywa it always did something to you.
his back. oh Eywa his back.
his hands, harden through years of survival and fighting but the things he could do with them. a shiver ran down your spine just imagining it. without you noticing, your hands begin to run over your body. slowly rubbing your hands over your nipples feeling them harden. you slightly bite your bottom lip, imagining that your hands were his. suddenly there’s a sweet smell wafting in the air, oh Eywa you’re ovulating. a small whine leaves your lips, no matter how much you try to satisfy yourself it won’t be enough.
you need him.
luckily for you, someone has been watching the entire time.
you hear the snap of a twig your ears immediately picking up the sound. you whip your head around trying to find who or what made the noise. is it just a yerik? or even worse… a palulukan? rda? maybe a stray Aranahe making their way home. a soft chuckle breaks your line of thoughts and finally you see him. so’lek. your so’lek. you let out a soft laugh before calling out to him
“do you always sneak up on poor women like this?”
so’lek inches toward the lake before his eyes lock onto yours. “no, just my woman.” a soft scoff leaves your lips before your smile returns. slightly embarrassed you ignore his comment, not from the possessiveness dripping from his tone but from the fact that you’re dripping.
“will you join me?”
he does a quick sweep of the area, always checking for any threats. such a sweetheart you thought, he’s definitely getting it tonight. he slowly begins to undress himself, his vest being the first to go before he undoes his tewng. you close your eyes and take a deep breath to ground yourself. control it. you feel him before you see him. a warmth at your back. so’lek bends down to place his chin in the crook of your neck.
“hello, yawne.”
his voice vibrates against your back and you relax into his chest.
“hi, ma so’lek.”
his hands rub up and down against your arms allowing you to relax even more.
“i have missed you. you must have heard my thoughts, tìyawn.”
he places a soft kiss against the crown of your head.
“mm, that is one way to think of it. how was your day?”
you sigh, “i don’t even want to think about it. how was yours?”
he places another kiss this time on your temple. you crane your neck to look back at him. oh Eywa. you definitely took your time with him.
“long. very, very long. no matter, you are in my arms now.”
you turn around fully, wrapping your arms around his back giving him a much needed hug. he returns your embrace and wraps his arms around your waist. you look up at him and slightly tilt your head
“what did you mean by ‘that’s one way to put it’?”
his eyes slide to yours before a smile graces his lips
“i smelled you miles away, yawne.”
your eyes widen
“you did not! do not tease!”
you hit his chest lightly before he dips his head lower. you watch as his gaze flicks down to your lips before returning to your eyes. his eyebrow faintly raises and your lips part. your breathing starts to become labored and your hands slowly slide up and down his chest. his hands squeeze your waist drawing small circles.
“so’lek—“
“i know. let me help you.”
you nod your head softly and you bridge the remaining space between you two. his lips feel heavenly against yours. this. this is what you’ve been craving. your hands slide up his chest and rest behind his neck. brushing his kuru just a little. so’lek lets out a soft moan into your mouth and deepens the kiss. sliding his tongue into your mouth and bringing you even closer in his embrace. one hand traces the curve of your spine while the other softly strokes your thigh. you instantly arch against him and whine into the kiss. he pulls away and planting soft kisses along your neck, leaving slight nips along his way. he picks up your leg, wrapping it around his waist and you tilt your head back giving him more access to your neck. soft moans spill from you and you roll your hips against his. you feel his hips roll back into yours. your hands slide down to his back, feeling his muscles contract and your fingers dig, leaving slight indents. he lets out a throaty groan and picks you up. both of your legs wrap around his waist and his hands rest under your butt. his face dives into your breast and gently sucks on your nipple. your head falls back and you continue to rock your hips against his. you push against his shoulders to guide his head up to look at you. you bring him into a kiss but you pull away.
“are you okay, yawne? do you want to stop?”
“no ma tìyawn, let’s move out of the water, i can’t take anymore teasing.”
he lets out a chuckle before leaving the water and placing you down on a soft patch of moss. your tail curls around his calf and he lowers down closer to you. he brushes his hand along your cheek and you nuzzle into his palm. one of his hands slide down to your core softly tracing the outside of your lips.
“you smell amazing, yawntutsyìp. you are driving me insane.”
he dips his head back into your neck while you open your legs to allow him more room.
“ma s-so’lek enough teasing baby please.”
he places a searing kiss on your lips before he lines up his cock at your entrance.
“are you sure, yawntutsyìp? i do not think i’ve stretched yo—“
you growl at him but there’s no real bite behind it
“yes so’lek! i’m sure! please i’m serious i can’t wait any longer.”
he smiles and places a kiss on your forehead before pushing in. he’s immediately welcomed with a sense of warmth from you. he lets out a groan and pushes all the way in. your breath hitches and your back arches up into him. he starts with slow but deep thrusts and you feel like you’re in heaven. he hits all the right spots and you swear you begin to see stars behind your eyelids.
“fast—f-fuck! faster baby! please!”
he picks up his pace, the tip of his cock pressing into your cervix. your mouth flies open as loud moans break their way through. your hands leave scratches along his back and it only fuels his pleasure. his mouth is on yours in an instant the kiss is sloppy, tongues wrapping around each other. he lifts your hips to slide his hands underneath your lower back, increasing your pleasure, you wrap your legs around his waist. he flicks his eyes open and he sees your kuru off to the side
“y-yawne, i am close. i-i want make tsaheylu.”
you reach over to grab your kuru bringing it towards his and both of you are overwhelmed with immense pleasure. you can feel how tight you are wrapped around him along with the love his has for you. he feels your deep hunger for him and his hips reach a pace he didn’t know he could even do. his tail starts to lash against the ground pleasure wracking through his body.
“m-ma so’lek! j-just like that! just like that!“
he snakes a hand down to your clit rubbing tight circles around it. before you can say anything you come. a white hot feeling takes over you and you let out a loud moan that would steer away anything close by. your back arches up and shivers rack through you. so’lek comes right after you, slamming his hips into yours before he floods into you. his hips slowly rock into yours to drag out your climax before he lets out a low groan and places his forehead against yours. you both breathe heavily before you smile softly. gazing up at him you whisper
“nga yawne lu oer.”
he whispers back
“nga yawne lu oer.”
he slowly slips out not wanting to hurt you. he places soft kisses along your face before rolling you on-top of him to rest. he lets out a content sigh and you rest your head against his chest. you place a kiss over his heart before reaching up and placing one on his lips. you both smile at each other and you lay your head back onto his chest. you draw light shapes on his chest.
“so’lek?”
“yes, yawntu?”
there’s a brief pause before you begin,
“i’m ready to go again..”
he lets out an exasperated chuckle and looks down at you seeing that you’re already looking at him with that glint in your eye.
“give me five more minutes, yawntutsyìp.”
again, i hope you enjoyed reading this! let me know if you would like anymore! i definitely want to get more into writing!
AH i've been sitting on this one debating whether or not to post it - this is purely smut, that's it, no plot. i've never written smut before nor posted it on here AH - go easy on me, lmk what you think
this was inspired entirely by this post by @crovvhaven; they create such beautiful artwork go check them out pls
i am not tagging anyone that's on my current taglist bc idk if you wanna be tagged in smut? like what if i tagged you and you don't wanna be tagged in smut? i do not wanna be disrespectful - but also lmk if you wanna be tagged in any smut fics
The air in Solek's cave was thick and warm, smelling of damp stone, sweet herbs, and the wild, clean scent of the high mountains beyond the waterfall entrance. Perched as you were on his powerful thighs, facing him, the low, flickering light of the firepit painted patterns across the blue expanse of his skin. Your own body, plush and yielding, felt a delicious heaviness against the firm muscle beneath you. You felt safe here, cradled in his embrace, the world of the Sky People's poison and the RDA's violence a distant, buzzing noise.
His long, elegant fingers were carding through your hair, a gesture that usually soothed you completely, but tonight there was a restless energy humming beneath your skin. A slight tremor ran through you, a shiver that had nothing to do with the mountain chill.
"Shhh, sevin," he murmured, his deep voice a gentle rumble in his chest. "Your thoughts are loud tonight."
He shifted one of those hands from your hair, tracing the line of your spine down, down, until his palm settled over the thick, muscular base of your tail where it emerged from your lower back. He began to rub in slow, firm circles. It wasn't a new gesture. He often did this, a grounding pressure meant to ease your anxieties, to anchor you to him and to the solid stone of your shared home.
But tonight… Eywa, tonight was different.
His thumb found that sensitive patch of skin just above where the vertebrae began, pressing and stroking with a maddening precision. A jolt, sharp and electric, shot straight through you. It bypassed your thoughts, your lungs, your heart, and landed like a lightning strike directly at the nexus of pleasure between your thighs. Your cunt clenched, a sudden, hard pulse that made you gasp and cant your hips forward against him.
"Ah!" The sound was small, broken.
Solek stilled, his head tilting. "Did I hurt you?"
You shook your head, unable to form words, the feeling still echoing through you. It was like he'd flicked a switch inside you you hadn't known existed. Your ears were flat against your skull, your breath coming in short pants. You could feel a distinct, slick heat blooming beneath your loincloth.
"Then… what is it?" He watched you, his golden eyes narrowed with concentration. He brought his other hand up, capturing his kuru, then gently coaxing your own into the open. He brought the delicate nerve bundles together, and the world sharpened instantly, the connection between you flooding with your confusion and a startling, burgeoning pleasure. He felt it, you knew he did. His ears flicked, a small tell.
Experimentally, he stroked your tail again. This time, he dragged his knuckles slowly down a few inches from the base, following the curve. The sensation was exquisite. A deep, rolling wave of heat washed over you, and your body answered in earnest. Your inner walls fluttered, your clit throbbing in tandem with the movement of his hand on your tail. You were perched directly over the ridge of his own loincloth, and you felt a definite, interested twitch from the cock housed within.
A slow, knowing smile spread across Solek's face. "Ah," he breathed, the sound a mix of surprise and delight. "I see."
His grip on your hip tightened, holding you steady as he began to move you. It wasn't a forceful thrust, but a slow, deliberate grind. He used the strength in his arms to guide your hips, rocking your clothed mound against the hard length of him. The friction was delicious, a maddening tease that did little to quell the fire he'd stoked.
His other hand, the one on your tail, never stopped its work. He was learning you, mapping your responses with a hunter's focus. He found another spot, a little lower than the last, and stroked there. The jolt was even more intense. A soft whimper escaped your lips, your head falling back as your fingers dug into his shoulders.
"Right there?" he rumbled, the vibration of his words traveling through your entire body.
You could only nod, your hips bucking against him, seeking more pressure, more friction, more of him. Your slick was soaking through the thin fabric now, making the glide against him impossibly smooth.
He obliged, pressing you down harder as he rolled his own hips up to meet yours. The combined pressure on your clit and the incessant, perfect stroking of your tail were too much. The coil in your belly wound tighter, tighter, your entire being focused on those two points of contact. His breathing was harsh now too, his pupils blown wide with a dark, hungry light as he watched you come undone.
"That's it," he urged, his voice low and rough. "Let go for me, yawne. Let me feel it."
And you did. Your orgasm crashed through you with the force of a flash flood. You cried out, a raw, unrestrained sound of pure bliss that echoed in the stone chamber. Your body convulsed, your inner walls clenching in rhythmic waves as pleasure flooded every nerve ending. Through your connected kuru, you felt a wave of his own satisfaction, a dark, possessive pride that he could unravel you so completely.
As the tremors began to subside, you slumped against him, boneless and panting. But he wasn't done. His hand on your tail slowed, becoming a gentle, petting caress, but it still sent little aftershocks of pleasure through you. His other hand moved to the tie of your loincloth, tugging it free with practiced ease. He did the same with his own, and the hard, heated length of his cock sprang free to press against your slick, sensitive folds.
He was big, beautifully so, and the feel of him against you was enough to stoke the embers of your arousal back into a roaring flame.
"I need to be inside you," he growled, the words both a statement and a question.
"Yes," you breathed, lifting your head to meet his gaze. "Please, Solek. Now."
He needed no further encouragement. With one hand guiding the thick head of his cock, and the other still resting proprietorially on the base of your tail, he slowly, deliberately, began to lower you onto him. The stretch was divine, a burn that melted into pure pleasure as he filled you inch by incredible inch. You were so wet, so ready for him, that he slid home until he was seated to the hilt.
You both groaned at the sheer perfection of the connection. Full. You were so impossibly, wonderfully full.
For a moment, you just sat there, adjusting to him, your bodies fused. Then, Solek began to move again. That slow, grinding rock of his hips started up once more, but this time there was no frustrating fabric between you. His cock dragged against your sensitive walls with every movement, and the pressure on your clit was direct and intoxicating.
His hand on your tail began its magic again, stroking and rubbing in that perfect, maddening rhythm that was synced to the roll of his hips. The dual stimulation was almost too much to bear. Every upward stroke of his hand was met with a downward thrust of his hips, and every drag of his cock out of you was paired with a teasing caress along the sensitive length of your tail.
You found your own rhythm, lifting yourself up and then sinking back down, taking him deep. His free hand moved to your ass, gripping the soft flesh there, helping you ride him. The sounds of your union filled the cave. The wet slap of skin on skin, your shared gasps and moans, the crackle of the fire.
Your pleasure was building again, faster this time, higher. You could feel his own climax approaching, too, through the frantic pulse of your tswin and the way his thrusts became deeper, more urgent. His grip on your tail tightened, his strokes becoming firmer, more demanding.
"Solek!" you cried, your body arching.
"Come with me," he commanded, his voice a strained snarl of pure need. He surged up, meeting your downward plunge, and his thumb found a particularly sensitive spot on your tail, pressing hard.
That was all it took. Your vision went white as your second orgasm tore through you, even more powerful than the first. Your body clamped down on him, your inner walls milking his cock as you screamed his name to the uncaring stone. You felt him follow you over the edge with a guttural roar, his hips bucking wildly as he spilled himself deep inside you, the heat of his release flooding you.
The pleasure was blinding, all-consuming, a supernova that erased everything but the feel of him and the explosive sensation in your tail.
When the last shuddering wave finally receded, all the strength left your body. You went limp, collapsing forward onto his broad, sweaty chest. His arms came around you immediately, holding you close as you both fought to catch your breath. Your face was buried in the crook of his neck, and you could feel the frantic pounding of his heart against your cheek.
Solek's chest heaved beneath you, a warm, solid anchor in the aftermath of your shared storm. For long moments, the only sounds in the cave were the crackle of the fire and your mingled, ragged breaths slowly evening out. You were a dead weight atop him, your body replete, your muscles liquid. His cock still nestled inside you, a gentle, warm presence.
His hand, which had been the instrument of your delicious undoing, now rested on your back, a comforting weight. But he couldn't seem to leave your tail alone. He began a slow, lazy stroking from base to tip, a possessive, tender gesture. Even now, softened and sated as you were, it sent gentle, pleasant tremors through you, little echoes of the seismic pleasure you'd just experienced.
He pressed a soft kiss to your temple, his lips warm against your skin. "Tired, my little storm?" he rumbled, the vibration of his deep voice a soothing balm.
You made a wordless sound of agreement, nuzzling deeper into him. The scent of him, clean mountain air, exertion, and something uniquely Solek, filled your senses.
A low chuckle rumbled through his chest. "Good." He shifted slightly, the movement causing him to shift within you, drawing a soft, involuntary sigh from your lips. "You were loud tonight. I think the banshees on the next peak heard you."
Heat flooded your cheeks, but you lacked the energy to even lift your head to glare at him. You just pinched the skin on his side lightly, a gesture he answered with another deep, rumbling laugh.
"I like it," he murmured, his voice dropping to a near-whisper. "I like knowing I can make you scream." He punctuated the words with another firm, proprietary stroke of your tail. "And I like this." His fingers traced the curve of your tail, mapping it as if memorizing a treasure map. "I did not know..."
He trailed off, but you knew what he meant. Neither of you had. This new pathway to pleasure, this direct line from your tail to your core, was a discovery, a secret just for the two of you.
"Mine," he breathed, the word a soft, possessive growl against your hair. His arms tightened around you, pulling you impossibly closer. You were enveloped by him, surrounded by his strength and the lingering scent of your lovemaking. Sleep began to tug at the edges of your consciousness, a heavy, welcome blanket.
He shifted again, carefully this time, rolling you both onto your sides without breaking your connection. You ended up nestled against him, your chest to his chest, one of his arms slung over your waist to hold you close. Your leg draped over his, and your tail curled to rest over his hip. His other hand continued its slow, mesmerizing petting of your tail, a rhythmic, hypnotic motion.
You lay there in the warm, flickering firelight, the cave quiet and safe around you. The wild energy had been spent, replaced by a deep, abiding contentment. His breath was a steady rhythm against your chest, his heartbeat a constant, reassuring thrum in your ear.
summary: on routine mission, you were compromised by none other than so'lek himself. however, the tables seem to turn on you both.
tags: 18+ MDNI NSFW , smut , sex pollen , cnc , overstim , possessive , rough seggs , hard dom
a/n: @skxawnya this is for u
(yes i know tamtey is technically us but for the plot we're just gonna say its not us)
theme: crazy in love
"Say bye-bye to your precious Tamtey, So'lek." You pronounced the 'k' heavily with a click of your tongue, finger tightening around the trigger of the gun you had aimed towards a very oblivious Tamtey. You were hidden in the trees far enough you could not be seen. You exhaled halfway. Finger curled.
A blur of blue and black erupted from the undergrowth. So'lek, silent as death until he wasn't. His hand clamped around the barrel, wrenching it upward just as the shot cracked through the air. The bullet tore harmlessly into the canopy, sending glowing petals raining down.
You stumbled back as you tried to yank the rifle back, but So'lek had a grip so tight on it, it was near impossible. You flattened your ears, "You-" you snarled, reaching for your dagger at your hip. The dagger never made it out of its sheath.
So'lek moved, twisting the rifle free from your grasp with a sharp jerk of his wrist, then slamming the butt of your solar plexus. Air exploded from your lungs in a choked wheeze. You stumbled to one knee, faltering just for a second, allowing for him to tackle you completely.
He was on you, forearm across your throat, driving you backward through snapping branches and vines until the forest floor rushed up to meet you both. You hit a bed of a soft glowing pod that exploded with the impact, sending spores flying into the air. A shimmering golden cloud erupted around you. Landing on your skin, entering your lungs.
You huffed, trying to regain your steps, but So'lek pinned your head to the ground with the barrel of your own rifle. You laughed, "Well go on. Shoot me. Use the metal your people call poison to the heart."
The barrel pressed harder against your temporal lobe. "Shoot," you spit again, tongue flicking against your lower lip. "Prove you're still capable of it. Or are you too busy playing savior to the last Sarentu princess to remember how to pull a trigger?"
"You think this is a game?" His voice staggered. "You think I won’t end you?"
You hissed, flattening your ears, tail lashing. He reached into his chest armor, pulling out handcuffs, distinct orange, courtesy of the RDA. He cuffed your hands in front of you, hauling you to sit on your calves.
He stayed crouched in front of you, one knee planted beside your hip, the rifle discarded somewhere in the crushed flowers.
You smiled up at him, "For someone who has disdain for the sky people, you sure do use their weapons so expertly." You held up your bound wrists to his face.
So’lek’s eyes narrowed to slits at your taunt. But he ignored it, already contacting for backup.
Heat began to creep up your skin. An uncomfortable heat that made you writhe. The heat wasn't just uncomfortable anymore. It was consuming. It started as a slow burn beneath your skin, like the first embers of a ritual fire, but now it roared. You tried to fix your sitting position, but each movement made you tingle with sensations too good to be true.
So'lek was now struggling too. His nostrils flared, pupils blowing wide as the same cloud settled over him. The anger in his eyes flickered, something primal bleeding through the cracks of his control.
"You poisoned us both," he growled, standing over you completely now.
You bit back, "Me? You were the one who sent us tumbling into whatever this is!" You shot your bound hands in the air with exaggeration. "Maybe the forest finally decided to punish us both."
So'lek's hand shot out, fingers wrapping around your throat, thumb pressing against your racing pulse. "You tried to kill her," he said.
"Maybe." You arched into his touch despite yourself, a whine slipping past your lips. "And I still would." Your sneer faltered as another wave of heat rolled through you, pooling low in your belly, making your thighs clench.
So'lek's ears flattened, tail lashing once. His breathing had grown heavier, chest rising and falling too fast beneath the straps of his armor. "I should just-" He trailed off, eyes darting from your eyes to your lips.
You tilted your head back, exposing more of your neck on instinct, lips parting. "Then do it," you rasped. "Finish what you started. Kill me. Or-" Your tongue darted out, wetting your lips. You tilted your head down to part your thighs. An invitation.
So'lek's gaze dropped to the deliberate parting of your thighs, slow and shameless. For one suspended second, you thought he might actually squeeze, end it, end you, end this madness. Instead, his thumb traced the frantic flutter of your pulse once more, before his grip slid upward to fist the base of your kuru. He yanked your head back sharply, forcing your eyes to lock with his.
"You think you can provoke me into mercy?" His voice hoarse. "Or into murder?"
You bared your teeth in a feral smile. "I think I can provoke you into fucking me until neither of us remembers why we hate each other."
His ears flicked forward, resolve visibly cracking behind his eyes. Then he moved.
He shoved you flat on your back among the ruined blossoms, the impact sending another soft burst of golden spores drifting upward. Your cuffed wrists were trapped between your chests. You clawed at the straps of his armor. He tore your top away in one vicious pull, and his mouth descended on your throat, fangs scraping over the place his thumb had just rested.
You arched hard, a broken moan tearing free when his rough tongue followed the path of his teeth. He bit down to break skin and you felt the answering throb between your legs intensify until it hurt.
"So needy already," he growled against your collarbone, dragging his mouth lower. "Dripping for the man who should be dragging your corpse back to the clan."
"Shut up and fuck me," you hissed, wrapping your legs around his waist and yanking him down. The hard length of him pressed against your soaked entrance through the thin barrier of his loincloth, and you both shuddered at the contact.
His response was immediate, shredding the last scraps of your loincloth and his own. Fabric tore away like it offended him. Then there was nothing between you but heat and slick skin and the obscene slide of his cock against your folds, once, twice, coating himself in your arousal before he lined up and thrust in like being outside of you any longer would kill him.
The intrusion burned with something so beautiful at the same time. Your body reacted accordingly, clamping him down and sucking him in deeper. You cried out, head thrown back as he filled you completely.
He didn't pause to let you adjust. He pulled out almost to the tip and slammed back in, setting a rhythm that was pure animal.
Each thrust seemed to punch the air from your lungs, and it sent you rocking back and forth, aiding him. The feral rhythm So'lek set was merciless, as if the spores had stripped away every layer of restraint he'd ever clung to.
The cuffs bit into your wrists, restricting any grip you could find yourself holding onto. He snarled against your neck, fangs grazing the fresh bite mark he'd left. "You wanted this," he rasped, tail coiling tight against him, his hand yanking your leg over his shoulder. "Begged for it like a bitch in heat."
You laughed, breathless, arching up to meet him. "And you're giving it. Forgetting where you come from, knowing you hate na'vi like me."
He pulled back just enough to meet your eyes, pupils blown so wide the gold was only a thin ring around black. "I've hated a lot of things, but none of them ever made me this hard."
Your bound hands scrabbled uselessly at his shoulders. You could feel every pulsing vein as he dragged himself out only to slam back in, claiming space that wasn't supposed to belong to him.
Your tail thrashed, caught underneath your body and his. "Then prove it," you gasped, voice cracking on the words. "Fuck me like you mean to ruin me."
He reared up, one hand clamping around both your cuffed wrists and pinning them above your head. This left only your back on the earth below, and your hips in his lap. The position arched your back painfully, breasts thrust upward. He used the leverage to drive even deeper, hips pistoning with a rhythm that bordered on violence.
The wet, obscene sound of him plunging into your soaked cunt filled the clearing, louder than the distant night calls of the forest. Every time he bottomed out, the thick head of him kissed your cervix and your whole body jolted like you'd been shocked.
"Say it," he snarled, free hand sliding down to grip the meat of your thigh, spreading you wider. "Tell me how much you hate me while your pussy tries to keep me inside forever."
You tried to spit something venomous, but all that came out was a strangled whine as he ground his pelvis against your clit on the next thrust. "I-fuck-I hate-"
He smiled, watching how hard you tried to fight the feeling that you so craved. "That's it," he murmured, voice dark. "Keep hating me. Keep lying to yourself while your cunt weeps for more."
Every muscle in your body screamed for release even as your mind clung to the last shreds of venom.
So'lek leaned down, fangs grazing the shell of your ear. "Look at you. Mangkwan warrior. Reduced to trembling and dripping on a traitor's cock." His tongue flicked out, tracing the sensitive edge of your ear. "Say my name."
You bared your teeth, tail lashing hard enough to stir dirt. "Fuck. You."
"Wrong answer," he growled. With that, he pulled out almost completely, just the tip hovering inside.
You immediately felt the loss, bucking your hips to gain some friction. "N-No wait-"
So'lek's ears flicked forward at the sound, satisfaction curling through his chest. He leaned in closer, lips brushing the shell of your ear, breath hot and ragged. "Beg properly," he rasped. "Or I'll stay right here and watch you fall apart without ever letting you come."
Pride warred with the screaming, pollen-fueled need twisting low in your belly. Need that had already soaked your thighs, his hips. You hated how easily the words spilled out.
"Please," you hissed through clenched teeth. "So'lek-please-"
His hand tightened against your bound wrists. "Louder."
"So'lek-fuck-please fuck me-"
The plea had barely left your lips before he slammed back inside that seated had him to the root and punched a cry from your throat. Your back bowed off the ground, breasts heaving, nipples scraping against the rough straps still clinging to his chest. The sudden fullness was almost too much.
He set a punishing pace again, hips snapping forward with enough force to rock your entire body forward. The wet slap of skin on skin mixed with your choked moans and his low, animal growls.
"That's better," he snarled against your neck, fangs scraping over the constellation of bites he’d already left. "Look how prettily you beg when you're empty. How fast that hate melts when I'm not filling you."
You tried to snap again, something sharp, but all that came out was another broken "So'lek-" as he angled his hips just right, grinding against that spot inside you that made you see white.
He felt it. The way your walls fluttered and clamped, the way your thighs trembled around his waist. His free hand slid down again, finding your clit and rolling it in tight circles.
"Come on my cock," he ordered. "Come screaming for the man you hate."
You came apart with a cry that echoed through the forest. Your cunt clamped down so hard he groaned like the blood stopped pumping down there. His hips stuttering as your walls milked him in frantic pulses. Slick flooded around him, dripping down to coat his balls, your ass, the ruined ground beneath you.
So'lek fucked you through it, relentless, drawing the orgasm out until you were shaking like you could take no more. Only when your spasms began to slow did he let himself follow.
His whole body locked above you. Every muscle in his back and shoulders went rigid, tail snapping straight behind him. A guttural sound tore from deep in his chest as the first thick pulse of release flooded into you.
You felt it. God, you felt every single jet.
The sheer volume forced another overstuffed whimper out of your throat even as your own aftershocks still rippled through your core. Each spurt stretched your already swollen walls further, painting your insides until you were so full the excess immediately began leaking out around his buried length, streaks of white mixing with your own slick and dripping in rivulets down your ass, pooling beneath you.
He didn't stop moving. Even as he came he kept grinding into you forcing every last drop deeper, smearing it against your cervix like he was trying to mark territory no one else would ever reach. The head of his cock throbbed inside you with each pulse.
Your bound hands scrabbled uselessly at his shoulders. "So'lek-fuck-too much-" The words cracked.
He answered with his teeth. Fangs sank into the meat of your shoulder, possessive in its violence. The sharp sting made your stomach flutter again, a little aftershock squeeze that milked another hoarse groan out of him. He shuddered hard, hips jerking once, twice more, grinding so deep you swore you felt him in your stomach.
When the last pulse finally ebbed he didn't pull out. He stayed seated to the root, chest heaving against yours. His kuru was still wrapped tightly around yours from earlier, when had that happened?, the sensitive tendrils braided and locked together.
Minutes passed. Or maybe seconds. Time felt distorted by the lingering haze of the pollen still clinging to your lungs.
Eventually his fangs released your shoulder. He dragged his tongue over the fresh punctures, almost tender, and the unexpected gentleness made something dangerous twist behind your ribs.
"Don't," you rasped, voice wrecked. "Don't you dare get soft on me now."
His laugh was low. "Soft?" He shifted his hips, just enough to remind you that he was still hard. "I'm not done."
Your eyes snapped wide.
One large hand slid under your lower back, lifting your hips higher into his lap. The new angle forced him deeper, the blunt head of him tenderly kissing your bruised cervix.
He began moving. He was slower, more controlled, each withdrawal reverent so you felt every vein, every inch dragging against your fluttering walls before he sank back in. The cuffs tugged at your sensitive skin, still painfully bound in front of you. Your tail thrashed, stirring up leaves and petals beside you.
The pollen hadn't faded. If anything, the second wave of it hit harder now that your bodies were already primed. Every time he bottomed out, your toes curled so hard they cramped.
"Look at me," he ordered.
You tried to turn your face away out of spite. He caught your chin between thumb and forefinger, forcing your gaze back to his.
"You don't get to hide," he said. "Not now. Not when your cunt is crying for me like this."
To prove his point he ground forward into you, deep, slow, making sure to abuse that spongy spot inside you. The pressure made your vision white out for a second, spilling incoherent words from your throat.
You bared your teeth even as your hips rolled up to chase the friction. "So'lek-"
"Louder."
"So'lek-" It cracked into a whine when he snapped his hips forward hard enough to jolt your breasts. "Fuck-So'lek-"
He then pulled your knees over his shoulder, folding you in half once again. The position left you wide open, helpless.
And then he fucked you like he meant to carve himself into your soul. Just raw, animal need. Hips pistoning, tail lashing, growls vibrating against your throat as he mouthed at every mark he'd already left. You could only take it, body arching, hands uselessly pressing at his chest.
Each thrust forced more of his release out around his cock, only for the next one to shove it deeper again. You were a dripping, trembling mess beneath him. You were completely drunk on too many feelings to name them all.
"Come again," he snarled into your ear. "Milk me dry. Show me exactly how much your body doesn't hate this."
He barely finished his sentence before your walls instinctively clamped down around him, sucking him deeper if that was even possible. You cried out in possibly pain or pleasure, maybe both.
He immediately followed after, another flood of heat pulsed into you.
He kept moving through both your orgasms, grinding, forcing every last tremor out of you until you were limp and shaking, tears streaking from the corners of your eyes.
It continued like that for who knows how many more rounds. You didn't care anymore, your brain was fogged with the need to keep going until your body gave out. And you weren't complaining.
