🧸

that small area, filled with overgrown trees, bushes and plants, lush greens and illuminating purples, had already been claimed before jake stumbled into it. it was hard to find, and it had been a mistake on his part in finding it, he’d took a tumble from the tall trees, fell through some pretty hard branches, and landed before the slender covered entrance. at first, jake thought he was looking at cloth, that somehow the na’vi had created silk fabric. he’d touch it, shocked and slightly excited, only to feel as if he’d touched a spiderweb. the silk, he’d realized, was natural — made from a bug larvae, most likely. jake had pushed the silk aside to the reveal small area. the ground was the most softest marsh he’d ever stepped on, nearly tickling his feet when he dragged them. the plants, the bushes, the trees, everything was alive and glowing, the ground tracking his footprints, it was nothing short of amazing.

he’d turned to leave, wondering if neytiri had ever been here, when his ears perks up. the tall tale sound of a hiss. it sounds like bees in someone’s throat, and escapes in a bone-chilling sound that even now, as a true na’vi and could very much make the sound himself, leaves him nervous and admittedly a little weak in the knees. he could remember when meeting the clans with tsu’tey and neytiri, asking them to fight the humans, he would steel himself when hearing it. there were so many different sounding hisses, and yet jake thinks his clan took the cake for the scariest ones.

he shakes his head. the point being, the sound makes his hairs stand and his tail to swish nervously. he turns, looking up to see a na’vi woman, an omaticayan, squatting in one of the lower branches covered in illuminated moss. she holds a dagger carved from their newest hometree, after many months of searching, tsu’tey found one suitable for their many people. she hisses again, defensive, and he smells it then. it’s like a light switch goes off in his mind. the reason he hadn’t seen neytiri, or any of the unmated women, it was the change of the tide — they called it — and when that happens, unmated na’vi women go into heat.

it’s also the reason he hadn’t seen tsu’tey all day. it makes sense now, he honestly thought they were avoiding him. he wants to slap himself now. how disrespectful of him to stumble into a woman’s marked territory, during her heat no less. he holds his hands up and walks backward, barely withholding a flinch when she hisses again.

“uh, sorry, ma’am. so sorry, didn’t mean to … what’s the word? hm, uh, embark? no, definitely not the word. uh. sorry to invade your territory?” he backs away slowly, least he accidentally starts a chase he did not want. “i’m just gonna—”

“are you mated, toruk makto?” compared to her hiss, her voice is quiet nice, hm, like honey he thinks, smooth sounding, sweet tasting, almost like her scent—he snaps out of it. her words correlate in his mind.

he honestly forgot he was the toruk makto for a moment. the war had been months ago, and despite the fact that many people won’t let him forget that he was the sixth, it was easy to forget when people got over the awe. got over the awe and saw that he was really just a clumsy guy, with a too big heart, a little too smart mouthed, and great enough warrior. he takes pride in being the head warrior, just beneath tsu’tey.

“no…?”

“was that a question, toruk makto?”

“no?” he looks around for a moment, before back to the woman. he noticed it then, she was actually quite beautiful. huh. her hair wasn’t braided, and from the slight waves, he assumed she’d just taken them down. oh, he abruptly looks away. she wore the customary loincloth, yet only a single beaded necklace, with tiny beads extending from it like dripping water, covered her nipples.

“do you want a mate?”

now that he thinks of it. he hadn’t really been looking for someone to mate with forever. once he realized neytiri was destined for tsu’tey, and they had some odd partnership going on between them—he got over that crush painstakingly slow. not to mention, tsu’tey could be scary, and jake didn’t want to mess up his position as the next olo’eyktan. no, no, jake wasn’t looking for anyone, despite the obvious looks he was receiving. he looked back to the woman, she was staring at him with clear eyes. wait. . . was she offering?

“what’s your name?” he questioned, dropping his hands when realized he still hand them up like a idiot.

“(name) tshaka de mo’at’ite,” she says, confidently. he blinks. now, why has he heard that name before? oh, oh! the mystery woman! he remembers it clear as day now. the younger sister of the three sisters, the deceased one, the next tsahik one, and the mysterious one. that’s what, he couldn’t even remember the dead avatar driver’s name now, had said, anyway. the avatar driver had thought he was being funny, until grace practically kicked his ass and nearly cut him off.

jake couldn’t for the life of him remember seeing her, he could remember hearing her name being called, her voice talking, but she was never in sight. “neytiri’s sister?”

“yes, neytiri is my older sister by a single cycle,” she grits her teeth, a hand briefly pushing at her lower belly. “you did not answer my question, toruk makto. do you want a mate?”

“uh, are you sure this isn’t your heat talking?” jake couldn’t help but wonder. what if it was someone else that barged in, would she say the same?

“i have seen you—”

“you have?” jake raises a brow.

“i have watched you—”

“you have?” jake raises both brows.

“i have followed you—”

“you have?” jake couldn’t help the voice crack or raise in pitch. he never noticed anyone following him. oh man, this shouldn’t be as flattering as he’s taking it.

“i decided that i will have you,” she finishes, not an ounce concerned with just how odd she sounds. she is confident, jake will give her that, to outright tell someone that you will have them is ballsy.

“you will?”

“I will. I am glad it was you who stumbled upon my thicket. otherwise, i would have injuried them.”

well, that settles it. jake always liked a woman who could kill him, and well, (name) looks fierce and ready to kill him. besides, jake’s a simple man, someone willingly to be with him? forever? hah, if his old buddies from earth could see him now. they were always saying jake would never find a girl or guy, he wasn’t the best at flirting.

“well, here i am, have me?” he understands his old buddies, now. he cringes, by eywa, did i really say that?

(name) gives a rich laugh, it causes a shiver to run down his spine, and he only has half a second to catch the lunging woman. they tumble through the soft marsh, nearly sinking into it as she settles quite contently on his lap. she brings her quene around, and jake does the same, watching in morbid fascination as the tendrils coil and link around the other.

it only takes a second for their minds to connect, emotions bursting full and richly around their interlinked minds. there’s no love there, not yet at least, but its overwhelming, heartwarming and thrilling all at once. he could feel her brushing against his mind, squeezing around his brain, settling into the missing blanks, melting into the crevices and nooks. it feels good, it feels right, and he’s suddenly heavily aware of the stabbing pain in her lower belly. amazing how she kept a clear mind with that amount of pain, geez.

he wonders, briefly, if this would have felt more special if they took things slow. but then, he’s struck by unbridled lust, and forgets his wonderings. well, it’s been years since he’s last did anything, really, and her scent was starting to coat the air thickly.

“so,” jake starts awkwardly. does this count as a one night stand, we just met, and now we’re about— his thoughts blank when she grabs his hands, pressing them against her tits. the beads dig into his skin for a moment, but they’re easily removed, and suddenly it’s skin on skin contact. he squeezes, instinctively really, and draws out a breathy whimper from (name). his eyes widens briefly, and he feels like inexperienced teenage boy again with his fast he hardens.

she must have felt him, there’s no way she hadn’t, her hips move upwards slightly, then back down. it’s his turn to whimper at the friction of the cloth and the pressure of her weight on him, practically suffocating his cock. he decides, last minute, to give her perky nipples a little twist and he savors her sounds. she really did sound good, like — his eyes caught the silk curtain swaying gently — like honey dripping onto silk.

her scent rolls around his nose, strong, thick, and heady. he rolls them over without a second thought, hands sliding down to her loincloth. his eyes meet her’s, and he raises a brow. “may i?”

she twists her hips a little, impatience nudges against his mind, “please,” she purrs, litreally, it starts in her chest and settles in her throat. like a cat. like a kitty. oh, he shudders.

he makes easy work to untie the strings, the cloth falling away aimlessly, and that is all it takes for her arousal to truly be smelt. he gulps, swallows harshly, gulps again. shit, is it hot? why does it feel like his control is breaking? her inner thighs were glistening and as she happily, and proudly spreads her legs, he couldn’t help the groan of utter pain. his cock throb painfully, his chest ache painfully, this has to be a crime. he’d never once in his life seen a cunt so pretty.

his mouth waters, and he swallows again, least he starts drooling everywhere. he knows that wouldn’t be an appetizing sight. he shakes his head, back on track. he clenches his fingers, before scooting himself back, settling on his belly, and eye level with this beautiful, beautiful cunt.

“pretty,” he unconsciously mutters, mesmerized. her pink bud peeking out between her puffy lips, his eyes catching sight of tiny droplets sliding down and disappearing into the marsh below them. “god, such a pretty pussy.” it felt wrong to call upon eywa, what if she heard? what if she saw? he doesn’t think the mother goddess needs to see this.

“hurry, jake,” she whines above him, twisting her hips again, and his eyes tracks the movements. she’s practically waving her cunt in his face. he groans.

“patience, kitty,” he mutters, debating if he should eat or finger, hm. shit, he really wants to taste her. “you want me to touch you?”

“yes, please,” she whispers, sounding shy all of a sudden. he chuckles at that, barely dodging the thump from her tail against his face.

jake uses his index and thumb to spread her puffy lips, his eyes flutter, his breathing is caught, he could die right here, he could die a happy man right here, right now. jake can’t even call it glistening anymore, she’s practically a river, so wet, dripping and dripping, her pretty hole clenching around nothing.

he leans forward, flattening his tongue, and giving her a generous swipe. her taste melts on his tongue, heady and sweet all at once, he swallows like a man starved and does it again. his tongue nudging against her hole, catching the juices that exit. “ooh, fuck, you taste so good, babygirl,” he groans. he really feels like praying.

“j-jake,” her whimpers and mewls were like music to his ears, and the moment she grips his hair, his hips jerk and he has no choice but to eat her like a man straved. he slurps as much of her juices as he could, before turning his attention to her neglected bud, swirling around the engorged bud slowly, eyes fluttering open to watch the way her body responded.

he swirls on the left side, her belly clenches. he swirls on the right side, her thighs shudder against his head, a true moan ripped from her throat. “so pretty, you moan so prettily,” he grins against her cunt and attacks that spot with vengence.

he uses his free hand to wrap around her thigh, prying it open as they begin to close around his head. she shudders above him, fingers tightening around his hair, pretty sounds trembling from her lips. he swirls and slurps, sucks and nips, and he could only feel himself growing harder by the second. “j-jake—haah!—m’gonna cum!” she warns, spreading her legs a little wider and practically shoving her cunt into his face, and he happily takes advantage of it.

he wraps his arms underneath her thighs, hands settling on her hips in soft grip, locking her in place as he brings her closer and closer to her release. she’s not quiet anymore, sounds ringing above them, her mind is blissful against his — thinking of nothing but the strings of pleasure. it only takes a well placed swipe of his tongue, a tiny nip of his fangs and—

“j-jake—m’cumming!” she cums with a sequel, thighs nearly locking around his head, but he grabs them in time. he’d seen what a na’vi women’s thighs could do to a head. he happily licks up the steady trail of white leaking from her hole, listening to her soft whimpers and satisfied purrs.

“good, kitty?” he asks, propping up on his elbows to get a good look at her. he nearly starts kicking his feet at the satisfied expression on her beautiful face.

“mhm, very good, jake,” she grins, fangs on display, and goddamnit, he’s going to burst from that image alone.

“you want some more, pretty girl?”

her cheeks bloom like anemones, eyes casting downwards, and her grin turning shy. she’s so fucking cute, it hurts, really. “i need your cock, jake.”

“oh?” he raised a brow, condescendingly, “you need it?” she nods, eagerly. “if you didn’t need it, babygirl, would you want it?”

“yes,” she shudders, “please, jake.”

“hm, let me see,” he mutters, dragging himself onto his hunches. he chuckles when she props up on her elbows eagerly, watching his fingers untie his loincloth with lustful eyes. he sighs when the cool air hits his cock, the tip an angered magenta and leaking clear pre-cum. air sucks through his teeth when she reaches forward, grabbing his cock in a tight grasp. “careful, kitty, don’t hold to tight for me, yeah?”

she leans down, mouth dropping open, and he stops her, index underneath her chin. “later, pretty girl,” he promises.

her lips pout, slick from spit and brusied from biting, “but, you—”

he gives a quiet tut, “i’ll train your pretty throat for me, later. right now,” he grabs her waist, forcing her on to her back. she gives a startled look, pretty eyes wide, and mouth popping open. “i need to fuck your fat cunt, until the only thing you remember is my name, hm?”

she shudders, hands reaching for his. “please,” she begs prettily.

He wanted to know what it was like to press his callous hands against your skin, teeth against the flesh of your neck, to see you wither and cry out from underneath him. To hear your voice close to his ear, fingernails digging into the flesh of his skin, and legs wrapping around his waist. You were a dream, the only dream, that Aemond found himself wanting to come true.

The betrothal of you both had been announced at a feast held by his father, welcoming your family into theirs with a happy smile and hopes of a bright future for the betrotheds and your family’s house. Your family was a lowly house in Crownlands, and Aemond wasn’t too sure why his father approved of the betrothal that his mother was so vehemently against.

You were quite the spitfire when railed up, and since you hated the court so much, your annoyance was always at an all time high. Aemond had quickly grown tired of it, and decided that he would have to simply take you everywhere with him. It was obvious your interests didn’t lie with powdered words and false laughs, but with exploring the city and watching the tiltyard. Both something he could provide.

Aemond had always been aware of his tendencies and faults, and he doesn’t quite remember when his possessiveness began, just that one day, he saw Cole speaking with you and it awoke something within him. He wasn’t naïve enough to think Cole wanted anything from you, and it definitely stemmed from his own feelings against his mother’s loyal hound. He led the two of you out of the tiltyard only seconds later, and his eye glared at Cole the entire time.

He knew it was getting worse when Aegon made a comment about your hips and bosom, and that had been the first time Aemond had ever put a blade against his brother’s throat. The fallout of the entire situation left him banished to his apartments for the next fortnight, and his weapons confiscated by the orders of his father.

He knew, sitting in his rooms on the sixth night, that he had a problem. A problem that he wasn’t willing to fix. Just six days without seeing your face, hearing your voice, left him angered beyond belief. Why should he be punished when his brother made such comments about his betrothed, his wife to be? Aemond cared not if his mother wanted him alive and well in order to usurp their older sister’s claim.

On the seventh night, when the guards began their rotation, Aemond snuck out. Quick down the stairs, and through long and winding corridors to reach the Maidenvault. Finding your rooms was easy, and slipping pass the dozing guards was even easier. And at last, Aemond laid his eyes upon your sleeping form once more. He stalked across the room, a hand reaching out to shake you awake.

“Wha— Ah! Wait — Aemond?” You gasp, eyes widening at the sight of him. “It has yet been a fortnight, what is it you’re doing?”

“I had to see you again, ñuha perzys,” He whispered, lowering to sit on the edge of your bed. “I fear I cannot go so long without looking upon your beautiful face.”

You raise a brow, “Tis only a fortnight. And, for good reason! You nearly killed your brother and—”

“For you, perzys,” Aemond cut her off, eye widening into something deranged. “I would kill everyone if it meant looking upon your face, hearing your sweet voice,” He trailed off with a faraway look for a moment, not noticing your look of disbelief and slight fear.

“You cannot mean that,” You insist. “You have only known me for five moons.”

Aemond gave a soft look, so uncharacteristic on his usual stoic face. “You understand me, ñuha perzys. You see me for who I am. You do not balk at the sight of my eye. You defend me when no one else has. Be it five moons or five years, I will do everything in my power to see you. Burn the world, if I must.”

You open your mouth, closing it soon afterwards, at a lost for words. Then, then, you grace Aemond with smile that forced the sun to pale in comparison. You sit up properly, face to face with Aemond, and cup his cheeks with your hands. “If I wanted diamonds and gems?” You wonder.

“Then diamonds and gems you shall have,” He inched closer, allowing your hands to grip his and guide them underneath your silk smooth shift.

“If I wanted all the gold from all the Magisters of the Free Cities?” You pull yourself closer, lips close enough to touch his.

“The gold will be yours,” He murmured, lost in your eyes, lost in your silky voice and smooth flesh underneath his trailing fingertips. Your fingers guided his towards your wet cunt.

“What if I wanted the Iron Throne. Would you give it to me?” Your voice ended in a needy whimper, eyes resembling that of a doe’s, as if it were an innocent question. With no merit behind it.

“I’ll conquer the Seven Kingdoms as my ancestor had, and lay it beneath your feet, if you so much as ask for it,” He groaned when his fingers sank inside your dripping cunt, worship in his tone.