voidxxmeblack

You’d been running your mouth all night.

“Relax,” you’d said. Chin high, tail flicking like you owned the damn kelku. “I can take it. Just fuck me already.”

Wukula had only stared down at you, one scarred brow arched, tail giving a single slow lash behind him. He hadn’t even taken his tewng off yet and you were already squirming on his sleeping mat, thighs pressed together, trying to look like this was nothing new. Like you’d done this a hundred times. Like the way your breath hitched when he finally peeled the last strip of cloth away from his hips didn’t make your ears flatten.

He’d warned you.

“Do not test me,” he’d growled low while he stroked himself lazily to full hardness, “you keep talking like that and you’re gonna regret it when I split you open.”

You’d laughed, sharp and cocky and a little too loud. “I said I can take it.”

So he decided to make you prove it.

Now your back was plastered to his chest, legs dangling uselessly because he’d hooked his thick forearms under your thighs and lifted you like you weighed nothing. Your tail curled tight around his wrist on instinct, trying to anchor yourself as he carried you. Still impaled on nothing but anticipation, across the kelku to the tall slab of polished obsidian that served as his mirror.

He stopped right in front of it.

Your own reflection stared back: wide golden eyes, flushed cheeks, lips parted on shallow pants. And between your spread thighs. his cock. Fat. Heavy. Already glistening at the tip from where you’d been grinding on him earlier like you knew what you were doing. The dark, ridged length looked obscene pressed up against your slick folds, the blunt head nudging right at your entrance.

Your crazy, bratty giggles died in your throat.

Wukula felt the exact second your bravado cracked. Your whole body tensed in his hold. Your hands flew up, covering your face, fingers splayed over your eyes like that would hide you from the mirror.

He clicked his tongue. Sharp. Annoyed.

“Don’t you dare.”

You squeaked. Actually squeaked, when he flexed his hips and pushed.

Just the head. Just enough to stretch you open, to make your rim flutter and cling. The burn was immediate, bright, overwhelming. Your thighs jerked in his grip; your tail thrashed once against his forearm.

A tiny, broken moan slipped past your fingers before you could choke it back.

Wukula’s growl rumbled straight through your spine.

“Hands down.”

You shook your head frantically behind your palms. “N-no—”

“Hands. Down.” Each word was punctuated by another slow, inexorable push, another thick inch forcing its way inside. Your walls spasmed, trying to push him out and pull him deeper at the same time. The stretch was obscene. You could feel every ridge, every vein, every bump dragging against places you’d never been touched before.

A high, embarrassed whimper leaked out.

He thrust again, shallow, punishing. And your fingers slipped. One hand dropped to claw at his forearm; the other stayed half-covering your mouth like you could trap the sounds inside.

In the black mirror you watched it happen.

Watched your own cunt stretch around him, pink and slick and so small compared to the brutal girth splitting you open. Watched the way your stomach flexed every time he sank deeper. Watched your ears pin flat, your tail go limp, your thighs tremble helplessly in his hold.

And worst of all—watched your own face.

The cocky smirk was gone. Your eyes were glassy, pupils blown. Your mouth hung open on silent little gasps. Every time he rocked forward your brows pinched, your lashes fluttered, and another mortified moan punched out of you.

“See that?” Wukula’s voice was dark honey against your ear. One massive hand slid up to grip your jaw, fingers digging into your cheeks.

forcing your head to stay forward. “That’s what a person who lies looks when she’s finally getting what she begged for.”

You tried to shake your head. Tried to deny it. But another deep grind of his hips made your voice crack into something pathetic.

“I—I’m not—”

“Liar.” He pulled back. Almost all the way out, then slammed back in to the root in one brutal stroke.

Your scream was instant. Sharp. Needy. Your whole body bowed in his arms; your nails raked red lines down his forearms. Tears—actual tears—sprang to your eyes and spilled over before you could stop them.

In the mirror you looked ruined.

Cheeks wet. Lips swollen. Pupils so wide the gold was nothing but a thin ring. And between your legs, his cock was buried so deep the bulge of it showed faintly under your navel.

Wukula groaned at the sight, low and feral, and started fucking you in earnest.

Long, punishing strokes that lifted you onto your toes every time he bottomed out. The wet slap of skin on skin filled the kelku. Your own reflection rocked with every thrust. Breasts bouncing, thighs shaking, tail wrapped uselessly around his wrist like you were begging him to hold you together.

“Say it,” he snarled, thumb brushing a tear track on your cheek only to smear it wider. “Tell me you’re inexperienced. Tell me this is your first time.”

You sobbed, half embarrassment, half pleasure so sharp it hurt.

“I—I c-can’t—”

He angled his hips and ground right against that spot inside you that made stars explode behind your eyes.

You broke.

“I- ngh!—this—!” The words came out in a humiliated wail. “First—My first time—please—!”

Wukula’s rhythm faltered for half a second. Something hot and possessive flashing in his eyes, then he fucked you harder.

“Is that right?” he growled against the shell of your ear. “Now watch yourself take it like you promised.”

You couldn’t look away.

Couldn’t hide.

All you could do was hang in his arms. Spread open, stuffed full, crying and moaning and finally, finally admitting exactly what you were:

His.

However, when you did have the time, you'd be the one pulling So'lek into dusty corners of the base, hidden from the others just to kiss him, to feel him. He'd kiss you hard and hungry, pressing you back against any surface he could find as his teeth nip at your lower lip, diving back into the heat of your mouth with his tongue.

It would make you weak in the knees, feeling his pleasure with your own through the connection of your kuru’s. Feeling the ache in his cock that ground against yours, his large hands gripping your thigh to hoist it over his hip.

Only for one of your comms to buzz, a low growl ripping from his throat each and every time. It was a mood killer, to say the least. Always sharing whispered promises and quick kisses goodbye. Each time you considered going to Priya and talking to her about timing.

Which is why today is so exciting. You had previously asked Priya to make sure no one bothers you and So'lek tonight, wanting to spend it together. You just had to get through helping with storage first. “You seem excited” Ri'nela teased, helping you take note of what items were in stock, “Can you blame me?” You asked, tail practically wagging as you tried to hurry up.

“No, I suppose I can't” Ri'nela giggled softly, her gaze shifting back to the tablet in her hands. She paused for a moment, staring at the screen before looking up at you, “Go on, I can finish up” She offered, and your head immediately snapped up, lips curling into a wide grin, “You mean it?” You asked, eyes wide. Ri'nela could only laugh as she nodded, taking your tablet from you.

“Thanks Ri'nela!” You beamed, quickly taking off your bullet proof vest before heading outside. If you were counting, it probably would've been the fastest you ever ran to your ikran. You just couldn't wait— at least not any longer to finally spend some time with So'lek.

And you were definitely going to make the most of it.

<-->

“Finally—” You sighed, laying back as So'lek laid on top of you. You both have been like this for a while now, cuddled up under the stars. So'lek had made something you can't recall the name of for dinner, and after that it didn't take long to collapse into the others arms.

“I know, yawnue” So'lek sighed, his tail swaying lazily as his face stayed pressed into the crook of your neck. You could feel the tension in his muscles, your hands gently rubbing up and down his arms, “Missed this” You murmured, lips brushing against his ear as you nipped at it. You almost chuckled at the groan that left him, watching as he lifted his head.

“You are trouble” He whispered, his golden eyes peering down at you with something more than love. “Yeah, but you like that” You smiled, leaning up to capture his lips. So'lek sighed into the kiss, deepening it without a second thought. His teeth nipped at your lips, not waiting for them to part as his tongue delved deep into your mouth, a low whine slipping from your throat.

“Let me take care of you” So'lek whispered breathlessly, his hands lowering to slowly untie your loincloth as his lips trailed along your jaw, nipping and sucking at the skin. You gently tugged at his braids, guiding his lips back to yours as his hand slowly wrapped around your cock, whimpering at the feeling of him.

So'lek chuckled softly as he watched your reactions, his calloused hand slowly pumping your weeping cock. “That's it—” He rumbled out, leaning down again to kiss the base of your throat, “Pretty boy” He groaned, his hand squeezing around your base before dragging up and down— over and over again.

His breath fanned over your skin as he kissed lower, leaving blooming purple marks along your blue skin. He could taste the sweat on your skin, his tail curling as he groaned, his thumb swiping over your weeping tip. “Missed the taste of you—” So'lek grit out dipping down lower until he settles between your legs. “Don't hold back for me, yawnue” He breathed out before wrapping his lips around your purple tip.

“Sh-Shit! Wait—” Your mouth fell open, fingers tangling in his braids as you whined. So'lek didn't give you any time to prepare as he bobbed his head, taking you deeep down his throat— stars practically shined behind your eyes, that coiling heat building up and up as your tip hit the back of his throat. His tongue swirled, tracing every vein as he sucked.

So'lek was practically starved, having spent too many nights alone with just his hand and the thought of you with him. He didn't feel like waiting much longer. He pulled off your cock with a pop! His other hand wrapping around your base as he kissed up along your length, “I need to prep you yawnue” He breathed out, throat slightly hoarse as he used your precum to trace your rim.

“Please—” You choked out, thighs trembling as he grinned up at you. You practically threw your head back as his finger slowly pushed past your rim, his mouth wrapping back around your length without mercy. “Fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck—” Everything felt so hot, your toes curling as So'lek eased in another finger, curling them deep into your gummy walls.

Searching and searching— until you both shudder, feeling your pleasure built through the bond. “M’ gonna cum—” You gasped, tail whipping as So'lek took your aching cock all the way down. His calloused fingers rubbing and prodding at your prostate. He was so mean with it, so mean in how he deep throated you, how his fingers toyed with that squishy button that had you seeing stars.

Until your body locked up, a sharp cry of ecstasy ripping through you as you came down his throat, body trembling as he slowed down, drinking every sticky drop of your cum. You were gasping as he finally pulled off with a wet pop! His lips curled into a satisfied grin, “Did so good for me—” He hummed, his hands pushing your thighs apart as he moved his way back up, capturing your lips with his.

“Think you're ready f’me—” He groaned as he pulled at the strings of his loincloth, tossing it aside as his hand wrapped around the base of his cock. His tip flushed a deep purple as precum leaked out, nudging it against your rim. “Ah— shit!” You gripped onto his shoulders as he slowly eased into you, his large cock splitting you open as he rubbed soothing circles on your hips.

“So good—” So'lek groaned into your ear, nipping at it as he slowly started rocking his hips, his hands moving to hook under your knees and spread your legs wide open. “So’lek—” You whined, desperately grasping at any part of him you could hold onto as his aching cock drilled deep inside you.

“Yawnue—” So'lek choked out, pushing your legs up higher and higher, hips smacking harshly against the globes of your ass as his tip abused your sensitive prostate. The stars shined brightly above him, your gaze blurry as you moaned— “So— So'lek! Fuck—” You garbled out, the pleasure making your toes curl and your eyes water.

Sparks of it electrifying your skin with every drive of his hips. So'lek reached between you both, hand wrapping around your cock and pumping in rhythm with his thrusts. “Ah—! Ahh— shit-” You choked out a moan, head lolling to the side as So'lek leaned down, nipping at your neck. “That's it— give it to me” He urged, fucking you harder into the mat below.

Light exploded behind your eyes, lashes fluttering as your body quaked, thick, sticky ropes of cum shooting over your abdomen. “Good— so good f’me” He groaned, gathering you up to press his chest to yours, hips rutting deeper and harder until he gasped, his seed flooding your walls and creating a creamy base around his cock.

The both of you panted heavily, catching your breaths as So'lek trailed soft open mouth kisses along your jaw, “You did wonderfully” He murmured softly, “So did you” You chuckled breathlessly.

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.

“No.”

So far, So‘leks life was a long series of befores and afters.

There was the time before he had joined the Aranahe clan, before the war had ground the forests into ash and memory. Even before that, long before the Trr’ong had answered Toruk Maktos call at the Hallelujah Mountains, when the world had still felt balanced, comprehensible and young.

So‘lek had been happier before. Lighter, too. Before the world taught him how much it could take and still ask for more. Before he‘d known nothing but loss and anger.

And then there was the after. After the anger that had hollowed him out. After he had become what the people called the Dog Tag Warrior, driven by revenge. After he had helped free the remaining Sarentu from their never-ending sleep. After he had taken one of them under his wing, shown her the ways of the People, taught her everything she now knew.

He had been smarter before, hadn’t he?

But this was after that time, after the days when you had followed at his heel, wide-eyed and curious, absorbing every word as law.

You had been a naive young thing back then. Still kind of are.

Too quick to smile, too ready to believe the best in everyone you met. Where So’lek speaks in silence and measured glances, you fill the space with questions, laughter, and this unshakable warmth that seems entirely misplaced in a world that had taken so much from you. He did not know such thing was even possible. You trusted so easily, learned fiercely, and carried hope as though it were as natural as breathing. To you, it was.

So’lek, by contrast, is all edges and restraint. A man of fewer words, but many scowls and even more discipline. Where you rushed head first into danger, he lingered, calculated, held you back by the tail if he had to. He taught you how to walk on this soil, how to listen for danger, how to survive.

And you taught him, perhaps without ever meaning to, that the world still allowed for light, even the darkest of times.

So‘lek had told himself that teaching you was his duty. That this was the path that the great mother had chosen for him, to make up for all the lives he had taken, for eywas laws that he had broken. He’s told himself that you were simply his numeyu [student] and nothing more. And perhaps that had been true, once.

But that, too, belonged to the before.

And suddenly, so quickly he almost missed the moment where time stopped, there was only the now.

Kneeling beside Ìley, So’lek’s hands were steady as they worked a salve of crushed leaves onto his leathery skin. His ikran gave a gentle nudge that was still strong enough to momentarily take him off balance, before it purred it‘s approval.

"Tam tam, Ìley", So‘lek cooed, patting its strong neck. "Feels good, does it?"

Routines like this always grounded him. They calmed his mind and gave him a sense of peace. Especially when life was getting busier than usual.

The Windtraders had arrived at the Aranahe hometree the day before and since then, the clearing had been alive with music, movement and color, woven fabrics bright as dawn, shells that caught the light, feathers and animal hide dyed in hues too vivid to belong to the forest.

Voices overlapped in easy laughter and loud bargaining. The exchange of goods and stories flowed in a rhythm older than his earliest memory of home.

But So’lek barely sees any of it.

His gaze lifted only briefly, sweeping over the gathered crowd out of habit rather than interest. Nothing that happened required his attention. Nothing, except for…

"You should come with us next time, there are many more pretty shells where these came from."

It’s the sound of laughter that follows which he would recognize even with his eyes closed and his head pushed beneath water.

It cuts through the noise with infuriating ease, as if calling for his immediate attention.

So’lek stills. Careful not to make it obvious, he lets his eyes wander in a subtle glance over his shoulder. His gaze finds you without effort. It always does.

Two Tlalim men stand far too close to you for his liking, their skin marked with orange and white paint, their voices smooth with practiced charm.

One of them offers you a string of shells, clearly made by the skilled hands of Metkayina, polished to a soft sheen that catches the light perfectly. The other laughs at something you say, as if you have shared a private joke. You accept the gift with both hands, cheeks warming and more laughter spilling free.

So’lek exhales sharply through his nose.

A shell? Why would you be impressed by a shell? It costs little effort, no real sacrifice. Anyone with access to the coast can bring one. This small, almost pathetic, gesture should not deserve the attention you give them.

But that’s the thing with you and men.

You’re always looking for love, for attention, for validation. Partially out of neediness, but also out of an open-heartedness that never learned to close itself. You give your warmth freely, assuming it will be met with the same sincerity.

So’lek thinks you are easy to please, but the thought carries no cruelty with it. It is not a flaw so much as an innocence you have never been forced to shed. You just don’t yet see how little it takes for others to earn your smile, how easily kind words and small offerings can sway you. You accept them as genuine because you have no reason to doubt them, because you believe people mean what they say. Because you are grateful for these mere crumbs that the men are giving you.

You just don’t know it any better.

Many men come with courting gifts and practiced words, hoping to win your favor, but they are all empty. None of them stay long. And the ones you allow into your presence never return twice. So’lek watches, with his jaw tightening, and wonders why you keep doing this to yourself.

These men are fools, clumsy and shortsighted.

The Tlalim men in particular are unremarkable.

They are too loud, too confident and too eager in the way of men who mistake friendliness for invitation. None of them are worthy of your attention, let alone your presence. They have not earned it, he thinks bitterly.

And yet, you allow it. That is what needles at him most. It is infuriating. It is sickening.

But So’lek only turns away, forcing his attention back to ìley, before he can witness any more of this madness.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

The low glow of embers paint familiar faces in shifting orange and gold.

The people have gathered around the communal fire, sharing the tender meat from one of his recent kills. The fire fills the air with delicious scents of roasted meat and warmth.

Teylan sits beside him and Priya, legs tucked in too close, voice already in motion before the food has even been passed.

The boy talks and talks and talks.

About things So’lek does not understand and things he understands well enough, but still chooses not to bring himself into the conversation.

His words tumble over one another, but So’lek is only listening with half an ear.

Teylan is also seeking validation, he knows that much, but not in the way his sister does. Teylan’s need is loud and insistent. Like a child tugging at his mother’s loincloth, demanding to be seen, to be praised, to be told he is doing something right. There is no subtlety to it, but So‘lek has learned to handle it. It is entirely different from…

So’lek’s thoughts falter.

Without intent, his gaze drifts across the fire, and his face softens ever so slightly when he spots you. You’re sitting opposite him, your posture relaxed, with the firelight dancing across your beautiful features. But the sight next to you is less pretty and makes his face return to frown.

It’s Tarséy. A young Aranahe warrior. Broad-shouldered, quick to grin, quicker still to speak. An empty-headed idiot, if one were to ask So’lek, with a face only a mother could love.

Everybody knew that Tarséy‘s mouth ran faster than his thoughts, and neither knew the path.

So’lek does not know what you see in him, but he watches anyways. It’s not like he could look away now that he’s spotted you with him.

Shoulder to shoulder you sit with him, close enough that your arms brush when you move. Then Tarséy leans in, says something meant only for your ears and you laugh, soft and breathy, before ducking your head, cheeks warming as you whisper something back into his ear. Tarséy grins like he’s won something and So’lek’s jaw tightens.

You look at ease. Comfortable. And it makes his teeth grind audibly.

Then, to his sheer horror, you suddenly raise to your feet in one swift motion and tug the warrior to his feet with a laugh. Your arms curl around Tarséy’s biceps and he stumbles a little, pleasantly surprised at your eagerness and follows without hesitation. The two of you disappear into the shadows beyond the firelight, voices fading, your little giggles trailing behind you like an echo So’lek cannot escape.

The sight burns. Hot and sharp beneath his skin, an ache he does not allow himself to name.

Still, he does nothing.

If this is the male you choose to spend your time with, then that is your right. He tells himself this with the same discipline he applies to every unwanted thought. He has no claim over you. Whatever he feels is irrelevant, and he will not shame you by interfering where he does not belong.

"I will go," So’lek says quietly, the words offered to Priya and Teylan without explanation. No one stops him, but their faces tell him otherwise.

Still, he rises, turning his back to the fire, to the laughter, to the space you had left behind. And instead of following the path you took, he disappears into the forest in the opposite direction, letting the dark swallow him whole.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

There was a time, before, when So’lek was particularly annoyed at your strange little antics.

You were a whirlwind then, and perhaps you still are. A walking ray of sunshine that was always smiling, always laughing, always finding connection and so very impossible to ignore.

Even more impossible to contain.

Training you was no small matter. It had cost a man his age more than one sleepless night. You simply leapt into action without hesitation, without pause to consider consequence.

You had him tense, on edge, with his heart hammering in his chest even long after the sun had set, worrying for his numeyu [student] that was so oblivious to it all.

Somehow, you carried on with the sort of blissful ignorance that would have been admirable if it weren’t so infuriating. Every morning you had greeted him with the same wide-eyed grin, that same reckless bravery as you wagged your tail and followed him around wherever he went, peppering him with questions and talking about whatever came to mind.

Really, So’lek sometimes thought, if it weren’t for your stubborn charm, he might have throttled you by now. Instead, he just bit back a grin and rolled his eyes so hard he feared it would cause a permanent injury.

Even now, watching you with others, Tarséy or any fool who had managed to capture your attention for the day, So’lek feels that old tug. That irritation, the irrational worry and silent, unspoken fear threaded beneath his stoic exterior. You had always been too much, too bright. His little sunshine. And So‘lek has always carried the weight of ensuring that your own brightness did not burn you.

The Aranahe feast comes with ceremony, swelling naturally as night settles over the forest. It is meant as a farewell to the Tlalim clan that was already overdo to continue their travels.

Music was rising with the smoke of fire, laughter spilling freely as drums and voices find their rhythm. Lanterns sway in the branches overhead, casting warm light over painted faces and moving bodies. The air hums with song, with the sharp sweetness of fermented fruit drinks and unrestrained joy.

So’lek does not enjoy gatherings like this.

There are too many bodies and too much noise pressing in at once. It makes him feel out of place, so he stands stiff at the edge at first, shoulders tight. Someone claps him on the shoulder in passing and then another calls his name in greeting. A fleeting conversation here and there was all he could muster, but then Ri’nela appears long enough to shoot him a look that leaves no room for refusal, and so he’s forced to stay a little longer.

Eventually, though, the noise becomes too much.

So’lek withdraws to the outer ring of the gathering and lowers himself onto a fallen root, back against the tree. From there, he can still see without being seen. Hear without being forced to listen.

Lifting a carved cup to his mouth, he takes a slow sip of swoa [liquor, alcohol]. It burns faintly on his tongue, leaving a warm taste in his mouth.

"There you are, chicken."

The sound of your voice makes him straighten despite himself. He glances up, and there you stand. The firelight catches on the loincloth he recognizes immediately, the one you had been working on days ago with stubborn focus and a tongue caught between your teeth. The colors are rich and warm, stitched with careful, uneven patterns that make it unmistakably yours.

You look… stunning.

So’lek smiles fondly before he can stop himself, but your eyes do not quite meet his. Not fully.

"What are you doing here, moping around all alone?" you ask. Your words suggest teasing, but your tone is flat and dulled around the edges. Your usual bite is missing and the soft little giggle whenever you called him chicken, whatever this word meant, was nowhere to be found either.

So‘leks smile falters into a faint frown just as you drop down beside him, close enough that your shoulder brushes his arm. It’s an innocent touch, but he shuffles away as if it burnt him. Opening his mouth to answer, he closes it just as quickly when you’re a little too eager to take the cup straight from his hand. You tip it back and take a long, unwise gulp.

So’lek blinks and his brows lift.

"Sarentu," he starts, already reaching for the cup, "this is very strong. You should not—"

"Urgh, So’lek, please!" you snap, clearly frustrated as you clutch the cup to your chest. Your words slur just enough to make him realize that this probably wasn’t your first drink of the night. "Give me that. I can decide what is too strong for me and what not."

This mood does not belong to you. Not to his sunshine, and he studies your face carefully now.

Softly, carefully, he dares to ask, "Where is Tarséy? I thought you were…"

"Tarséy can fuck himself."

So’lek makes a face as he cringes from your foul mouth. He has heard worse on battlefields, and from other warriors, but never from you. Never like this.

He lowers his voice. "That is not how you speak."

You laugh, the sound short, bitter and nothing like yourself. "Oh? Is there a rule for that too?"

His jaw tightens, but then he forces himself to breathe.

"Tell me what happened."

You stare at the drink in your hand for a moment too long, then wipe your nose with the back of your hand and scoff. "Nothing. He just got what he wanted," you say flatly and shrug. "And then he left. Just like the others."

The words sit between you and him, heavy and ugly. They make something in his chest starting to hurt.

So’lek’s hands tighten into fists. "Then why," he asks, unable to keep the edge from his voice, "If all they do is disappoint you, why do you keep giving these skxawngs [idiots] your time? Your…," he wanted to say your body, but doesn’t finish that sentence. There’s no need to, anyways.

You turn on him then, eyes flashing. "Don’t," you snap. "Don’t talk to me like that."

"I am only trying to understand you," he says, frustration bleeding through despite himself.

"No, you’re not," you shoot back, slurring a little. "You’re judging me, talking to me like I’m a child. You always do that!"

"That’s not—"

"I‘m not stupid, So‘lek." You take another sip from his drink.

The swoa has loosened your tongue, tangled your thoughts and is now turning hurt into anger. So’lek can see it, he knows this pain all too well and still, something in him snaps.

"No, you are not stupid, Sarentu. But you are naive," he says sharply. Too sharply. "A foolish girl who believes words too easily. These men are blunt, dull as an unsharpened blade, and you let them in simply for smiling at you!"

The moment the words leave his mouth, So‘lek regrets them deeply.

Your face goes still. Hurt flickers there, raw and exposed, before it hardens into something colder.

"I knew it…" you whisper, turning away from him.

"That is— That is not what I meant," he tries, but the damage is already done.

"Oh, don’t worry, So’lek. I know exactly what you meant."

Silence stretches for an unbearable long moment. The music from the festival feels distant now, muffled and irrelevant.

So’lek exhales, slow and controlled, and then he pushes himself to his feet. "You are drunk," he says, voice flat. "And this conversation will lead nowhere."

He does not wait for you to reply.

Turning away, he steps back, leaving you and the rest of the fest behind.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

The next few days feel wrong. After the argument.

So’lek feels off-balance in a way he does not like, as if something essential has shifted just out of his reach. His routines remain intact, yet they feel unfulfilling, hollowed out, missing a familiar weight. He catches himself listening for footsteps that never come, for a voice that no longer fills the quiet. Not even the chirping sound of your ikran as it nuzzles against Ìleys side or steals a fish out of his basket are there. The perch beside his ikran remains empty and the familiar sound of wings and impatient chuffing are nowhere to be heard.

The spaces you normally fill suddenly feel strangely empty.

You are not where you usually are. The training grounds at dawn aren’t occupied, there is no one already stretching and talking before anyone else has fully woken. Not near the cooking fires, stealing bites from your siblings. Not chatting with Priya, weaving with Nefika or even racing Etuwa.

No one is trailing after him with questions he pretends to be annoyed by, but loves to answer all the same.

It feels… odd.

On the third day, Teylan finds him.

Not for personal matters, but with a datapad tucked under his arm. He talks about a minor complication that needs solving and So’lek listens, answers where necessary, nods when expected.

When there is a brief pause, he slips in a question about you— careful to keep his tone level, almost uninterested, as if the question means very little at all.

"She told me she wasn’t feeling well, said she needed some time away," Teylan looks at him in sympathy, his lips pressed into a thin line. "If you’re looking for her, I think she’s staying at one of the Resistance field labs. But don’t tell her you got that from me! She will kill me if she finds out I’ve told anyone about her secret spot…"

"Thank you," So‘lek tells him with a hand on his shoulder.

Luckily, your so called 'secret spot' was not so secret after all.

There are several field labs scattered through and around the kinglor forest, hidden well enough from human patrols. But only one in which So’leks spots a fire burning low and the familiar colors of an ikran sitting on the roof nearby.

Tracking you down had taken far less effort than he expected and So’lek can’t help but grin as he urges Ìley to land. Perhaps he had not been such a good karyu [teacher] after all.

"Did Teylan tell you I’m here?" you grumble, rolling your eyes as So’lek pats his ikrans strong neck and then walks over to where you sit in the grass, poking at the fire with a long stick.

Your gaze is stubbornly fixed on the flames, avoiding him entirely.

"Do not be too hard on your brother, he wouldn’t have told me if I hadn’t asked," So’lek explains softly. "He worries for you."

You snort, still staring at the fire. "Oh, he worries for me, yeah?"

So’lek does not respond to that. Instead, he sits down beside you, letting the quiet stretch for a moment before he speaks again.

"Why are you hiding, Sarentu?" He asks softly, his face tilted slightly to look at you.

You fiddle with a loose strand of grass, everything to avoid his gaze as his eyes bore into the side of your face.

"I… I don’t know," you mutter finally, your voice small. "I guess… I just needed space.“

So’lek considers your words for a moment, then, cautiously, he asks, "Space from what?"

Biting the inside of your cheek, you shy away from his gaze even more. Truthfully, it breaks his heart to see his sunshine hide behind dark clouds like this, so he carefully reaches out and cups your jaw in his hand, slowly turning your head back to him.

Although you let him, your eyes still refuse him.

But the words that had sat on your tongue spill out anyways.

"From everything, I guess. From men, from the others and… from you." Your voice falters, almost a whisper now as you add, "I… know you’re disappointed in me."

So’lek’s gaze softens and he almost smiles at the silliness of it. How could he ever be disappointed in you?

"Disappointed?" he repeats quietly. "Why would you think that?"

Finally, you glance up at him, eyes red-rimmed, and your lips press together. "Because what you said at the festival was true," you admit. "About how naive I am, about how easy I am to please. You’re right, So‘lek. Your always right. And now I feel stupid and—" You pause, cheeks burning hot with embarrassment. "—easy. Great mother, you must be so disappointed in me!"

The last part comes out frustrated and angry and you ball your hands into fists in the grass.

So’lek remains silent for a long moment, letting your confession hang in the air. Then, softly, he says, "Sarentu, you are none of those things. What I’ve said at the festival was not… that was not what I truly meant."

You shake your head, "But it feels like it."

“So it feels like it,” he repeats, tone firm but gentle. "But feeling is not truth. And I am not disappointed in you. I am…" So‘lek sighs deeply, and then it’s his turn to let his eyes shy away when you look at him. "…angry only that you allow others to treat you as less than you deserve. These men are not worthy of you and it angers me to see them with you."

"I know, okay? I know that!" you groan. You scrub a hand over your face as if trying to hide in shame. As if you could somehow erase what happened if you only scrubbed at your face hard enough.

So‘lek feels confused and lost.

"Then why are you letting this happen? Why do you let them treat you as less?" He asks immediately.

The look in your eyes changes then and So‘lek watches the way your blush creeps over your cheeks and all the way up to the tip of your ears.

"I— I kind of…" The words come out hushed, like a secret you’re sharing only with him. You breath in and out, your voice suddenly small and hesitant, "I thought you had no interest in me since I’m your student. You— You see me as a child! And I guess I kinda wanted you to see me as a woman with… with needs."

Your confession comes unexpected. So unexpected, that So’lek feels all blood drain from his head and wander elsewhere. He swallows thickly, his throat suddenly dry as you blink up at him through your lashes with those big eyes, as if you could somehow see right through him. His chest feels tight, and it takes him a long moment to get his thoughts under control.

"You are not a child," he responds matter-of-factly. And it’s true. You might be younger, yes even a little naive from time to time, but you are not a child. Great mother, no. You are not.

You huff a bitter laugh. "You say that now."

"I say it because it is true," he replies, leaning forward slightly. "And because I should have said it sooner." He exhales, slow and controlled. You catch the way his eyes fall to the softness of your lips, before he regains composure and meets your gaze again. "I am not blind to you, Sarentu. I was simply trying to be… disciplined."

So‘lek watches with great satisfaction as your eyes widen at his words, only for your blush to deepen into a dark hue of purple.

"I-I just thought as my teacher you’d be—", you stammer, the words faltering as your courage wavers.

"Your teacher," he repeats gently, a low chuckle slipping free. Then he lifts a hand before he can second-guess himself and cups your cheek. Your breath catches when he stares openly at your lips, no longer hiding it. "I am not your teacher anymore."

Then, So’lek leans in slowly, giving you all the time in the world to stop him, to back away. But you don’t.

"Then don’t act like it all the time," you murmur, softer now, closer. The hand on your cheek moves to the back of your neck, pulling you impossible closer.

"That," he murmurs, voice strained, "is because you still have much left to learn."

"Like… what?" you whisper, eyes fluttering shut.

"How you are supposed to be treated," he answers, stopping mere millimeters from your mouth, close enough that he could feel the warmth of your rapid breathing.

"Then show me, So’lek," you whisper against his lips. "Teach me."

And that is all the invitation he needs.

He closes the distance at last, no hesitation left, no before or after to hide behind. Only now. Your lips smash together and in a desperate, hungry way and he could practically feel your entire body melt into it.

So’lek kisses you with all the power he could muster, making up for all the months, weeks, days, even minutes and seconds his lips hadn’t been touching yours when he had wanted to so badly it hurt.

The groan he exhaled into the kiss was anything but subtle and disciplined. It was raw and unapologetic and so full of need. Need to feel you, to taste you, to have you close— closer.

So‘lek moves quickly, doesn’t break the kiss as he shuffles to his knees and moves between your thighs. His other hand comes to cup your face as well, holding onto you as he tastes your lips, your tongue, even your sweet salvia. He wanted to drink it all, taste it forever, let it seep into his skin to become part of him.

Your chest is raising and falling in short pants as he lays you down onto the grass, his lips never leaving yours, not even for a moment to gather his breath. You’re both just panting into kiss, exchanging soft little noises that sound like sighs and moans with how good it feels.

To So’lek, you taste sweet and warm and like home. It is addictive. And he could smell your desire, tinged with a subtle base note of your natural scent. It’s the only plausible excuse for him to finally untangle his tongue from yours and instead burry his nose into the space where your shoulder meets your throat.

"Sarentu," he sighs as he inhales deeply the sound of it almost painful with how heavy the weight of need settled over his voice. And then he groans when he feels heat surge through him and settle in his groin, before he captures your lips in another kiss.

You make a sound that’s close to a moan, your hands impatiently fumbling with his tactical west and so he’s forced to break away from your mouth again, helping you slip the west off of him before he returns the favor and unclasps your top.

The sight before him is a long anticipated one. Enough to make him momentarily forget to breathe. You’re such a pretty little thing, with your chest heaving, face all flushed and lips swollen and wet.

"Why‘d you stop?" You pant.

"Don’t be so impatient. I am admiring," So‘lek smirks, then cups one of your breasts in his hand. His thumb brushes gently over a hardened nipple, before he lowers his head to press a wet kiss to the underside of your breast.

"L-Later, you can admire me later."

He slowly, so very slowly kisses his way down your body, tongue tracing invisible patterns onto your skin, marking you indelibly as his. His tongue dips into your navel, kisses it, and he chuckles lowly as you squirm and sigh under his ministrations.

"So needy," he says, his breath tickling your skin where it’s wet from his tongue and goosebumps raise over skin. "Did none of the men you occupied yourself with ever satisfy you?"

So’lek presses a kiss below your navel, where a V-shaped valley guides him down. His eyes are glued on yours and you hesitatingly shake your head, no. That should make him angry, he thinks. But instead, all he feels is triumph.

"Then they were truly useless," he sighs in disappointment, then slips your loincloth down your legs and tosses it aside. "What a shame. For them."

Settling himself between your parted thighs, broad shoulders holding you open, he tugs your calves over them. You look so pretty like this, he thinks. Your slit is glistening in arousal, wet and needy and just begging for him. For someone to treat her right.

His breath is warm against your skin and you toss your head, the anticipation making you crazy. But you’re completely at his mercy as he rubs his jaw against your inner thighs, forced for patience you could not muster in this very moment. Goosebumps erupt all over your body at the sensation of him rubbing himself all over you.

"I will show you exactly how you deserve to be treated, paskalin [honey]," So‘lek says with the certainty of someone who knew for a fact that he could. "And I want you to remember this moment. Remember who‘s name you will be crying by the end of the night. This is your lesson for today, sweet girl."

His thumb then carefully strokes your clit, his touch gentle but his skin roughened with calluses, and it’s perfect— even more so when he bends to slide his tongue over you, spreading your thighs with his hands and tasting you with unexpectedly delicate licks until you’re whimpering and your hips are twitching.

You taste like Tana‘rìng he knows from home. Sweet.

Finally, though, finally he opens his mouth properly against you, his broad hands holding you open as he fucks you with his mouth. Your back arches off the ground when his tongue pushes inside you and more moans tumble from your parted lips.

His tongue is firm and sleek, thrusting inside before tracing back over your folds to suck hard at your clit. One, then two fingers dip inside, past the tight ring of your entrance, curling and thrusting and creating just the right amount of friction as he groans filthy praise against your cunt.

Your voice cuts through the air then, a desperate cry of "S-So‘lek, I’m—"

"Come for me, numeyu [student]," he says between licks, pulling you closer against his face. "Let me taste your pleasure."

You can't help but scream as he goes back to sucking on your swollen clit. It feels like an eternity but no time at all before you're coming, flooding his mouth as your body quakes and spasms for him.

In all of his years of living, So‘lek doubts he has ever heard a sound so beautiful before as the noises you make as you come on his tongue. From the sound of it, it might even be the first time a male has ever succeeded in doing so.

His mouth is determined as he strokes you through it, easing you down, hands soothing on your thighs.

When he pulls back, his mouth and chin are shiny with you. He wipes his hand across his mouth and licks his lips, giving a low hum of approval before he briefly closes his eyes and returns to let his cheek brush over your inner thigh. It’s not for long though, before he slowly slides up your body.

After a moment, his sinful mouth presses against yours once more, coaxing your lips open. You sigh when you taste yourself on his tongue and So‘lek hopes you enjoy the taste as much as he had. Pulling back, he smiles when you try to follow his lips.

"Paskalin [honey]," he purrs, his voice low as he nuzzles his nose against your cheek. You can't even form words, just nod your head as he kisses you once more, quick and dirty while he slips himself free of his remaining clothes and settles himself between your spread thighs. "Will you let me make you feel good? Will you let me prove myself to you properly?"

"Y-Yes," you whisper breathlessly, "eywa, yes, please!"

You immediately wrap your legs around his waist, enjoying both, his warm skin against your legs and how his hips hitch towards you as he groans in approval.

"Then I will not disappoint you as the others before me."

So‘lek enjoys the tiny hitch of your breath, the way your tail suddenly curls tight around his thigh and your pupils dilate at his words. You’re so eager to find out just how good he could make you feel, when what you had just experienced had already been more than any other male had ever been able to.

He holds you like that, spread open and with a hand on your hip while the other lays above your head, taking as much weight off of you as possible. His hand is close enough so he’s able to stroke your hair and the top of your head and you let out these sweet noises that are close to a purr. It makes him feel fantastic, knowing that you feel good. That you’re happy and content where you are. And he wishes to be the reason for his sunshine to glow until the end of time.

Your small hands are at his back, holding onto muscles and warm skin, your dull nails scratching him gently, urging him on.

His cock throbs in a way it hadn’t done in what feels an entirety as he slowly slides inside, filling you, inch by inch.

So’lek moans as he pushes further, pushes harder, and you whine and cling to him, unable to do anything but lie there and take it. He's panting now, too, not as unaffected as he wants you to think and you use it to your advantage. You want him to lose it for you, in you, with you. And so you clench yourself tight around where he's buried inside of you, visibly enjoying the way his hips thrust almost involuntary in response, before he stops all movement completely.

"Sarentu, you are…" he breaths heavily, his eyes closed shut to focus on breathing, on calming his nerves, on not coming right away. "…very tight."

Despite the way your trembling beneath him, your legs locked tight behind his back and your wonderful wet and silky walls fluttering around him, you still somehow manage to let out a breathy little giggle.

Not believing if his ears have heard right, So‘lek manages to pry his eyes open to look at you. Already, there was sweat beading at your temples, but the same grin that he had grown so used to seeing when you teased him was now spreading over your soft lips.

And there was also this feeling of your walls clamping down around his cock, squeezing him so painfully tight it felt like he might come undone at any second.

Little menace.

"W-What, old man? Are you gonna—"

"Quiet," he groans. "Before I tie your mouth shut."

"You would like that, w-wouldn’t you?" You say softly with that lazy grin on your face that made you look almost drunk of it.

The next time you open your mouth to speak and continue your teasing, a moan slips out instead. And then another, higher pitched, a little gasp that’s punched out of your lungs with thrusts deep enough So‘lek could feel the opening to your womb against the tip of his cock.

A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as he said, "You talk too much, numeyu [student]. We will have to change that."

The slow drag of his length as he withdrew from your warm, wet and velvety-like walls made So‘leks own tail curl in enjoyment, and his eyes fluttered close once more as he lets himself drown in the feeling of you.

Then his hips move on instinct, pushing forwards, thrusting into you. It’s slow and languid, with muffled groans pressed against your skin.

So’lek wants it to last. Wants to stay like this forever, soft touches and warmth and the fond familiarity of your skin under his fingertips. But he can't resist that voice. Can't resist that desperate, pleading tone.

"S-So good," you whimper, "Karyu [teacher], more, I need more! F-Fuck me!"

"Such a foul mouth you have on you," he chuckles, teasing the lobe of your ear with his sharp canine. "I did not teach you that."

You barely started to relax and stopped clenching around him, when he pulls himself all the way out just to rock right back into you in one sharp thrust. He repeats the motion, harder, deeper, until his pace and your moans increase in volume with every passing second.

"So‘lek!" His name rolled off your tongue as a gasp, followed by a choked-off moan as he gripped your hips and pressed himself closer against you, buried his face into the crook of your neck and lapped at your skin until a purplish mark appeared right there.

Mine, it said in the most intimate way So‘lek could think of.

Anyone could claim their mate with a courting gift, he thought proudly, sucking yet another hickey into your throat as he simultaneously trusted into you. But these marks, they were an art that required precise observation from their presenter and the complete trust from their acceptor.

These weren’t cold, lifeless symbols of affection, no. You couldn’t just take them off like a necklace. Although they had short lifespans, he knew it would give him the opportunity to continue to give you new ones over and over, of different sizes, shapes and colors; and if he didn't feel like putting them on your throat, then he could put them on your breasts, your hips, on your wrists, your shoulders or your thighs.

So’leks thoughts went wild with all these new possibilities of marking you as his. If you allowed it, your entire body would turn into an available canvas for these markings and he would take great advantage of this.

They were profoundly intimate, a powerful symbol that was physically felt each and every time it was given to an extent that any other courting gift never would be. That was what would make him stand out from all the others.

Because what was a pretty shell compared to the shaking of your thighs, the quivering of your breasts and the hoarse voice that called his name over and over in pleasure? What was a shell compared to how good he was making you feel in this moment?

His hips only increased their pace from there, taking you harder, hands holding you tighter, tail coiling around your ankle to spread your legs impossibly wider. There’s this sensation, hot and burning and he allows it to rise within his core— he allows it, and welcomes it.

"Let go," So‘lek breaths hot and heavy when he feels your walls clench down hard on his length, "Let go and come with me, my sweet girl."

The kiss he captures you in is hot and dirty and your skin is slip-sliding against his with every movement. When the kiss breaks you moan loud. His nose drags along your cheek as he pants and rocks and fucks and you can't take it, can't take it one second longer.

His name falls from your spit slicked lips in incoherent brabbles and moans, greedily pleading for more, more more, until—

"S-So‘lek, oh! I‘m gonna— gonna… Fuck!"

You come in deep wracking shudders around him, calling out his name. Almost immediately, he follows, thrusting hard one last time, burying himself in you to the hilt as he comes, emptying himself inside of you with a low groan of your name.

So‘lek holds you so impossible close as you both shudder and moan from the intensity of it, he fears he might hurt you from how hard he was squeezing the soft flesh of your hips.

Nothing, he thinks. Nothing has ever felt this good before. He could still feel the tremor of your legs, the little twitches of muscles slowly loosening up in the afterglow of your orgasm.

So’lek’s breathing gradually steadies, though his hold on you does not loosen. He lowers his voice to a murmur meant only for you, words pressed softly into your hair, about how good you feel against him, how beautiful you are like this. There is no heat left in the praise now, only sincerity.

You let out a soft hum that tells him you’re listening, but your eyes are already closed and the tension in your body has melted away in the safety of his arms.

Carefully he shifts then, rolling onto his back and guiding you with him until you rest on top of his chest. One arm curves securely around your shoulders, the other settling at your waist

His chin dips, brushing your crown, and then he presses a slow, soft kiss to the top of your head.

And for once in his life, So‘lek feels truly content. Because his life had divided itself cleanly at last, into everything that came before you, and everything that will come after you.

It’s been a week now, seven long nights and days. There was no contact, no warmth shared between you and So’lek

You always counted time differently when he’s not around by the campfire, you barely even finished your favorite meals cause your eyes only drifted back to the darkness between the tall trees.

Tonight though, the forest was calm and quiet, you were sitting near the river on a hard rock with Teylan, your feet nudged the dust on the floor as the small fire crackled nearby. The light danced on the leaves, soft and greenish, and somewhere above, the canopy hides the stars that shimmered a sense of comfort and familiarity.

Teylan plopped down beside you with zero grace, nearly missing the rock.

“Oof—okay, wow. This rock is smaller than I remember,” he muttered.

And here you found yourself not reacting at all at his usual silliness.

He looked at you and squinted a little “you’ve been staring at the fire for a long time now, what’s the deal?”

You sighed softly “im just thinking”

“oh..” he nodded seriously, then leaned a little closer “about rocks? Or him”

You glanced at him from the corner of your eyes.

“Him I guess..”

Teylan’s face lighted up like he just solved a very hard puzzle. “Ah yeah that explains it”

You looked over at him, as he grabbed a stick and started drawing random shapes in the dirt, literally none of them made sense, circles and lines, something that might be an animal or maybe a shoe ?.

“its only been a week,” he said, reassuring you but in a very wrong way. “That’s basically nothing, I once didn’t had my favorite knife for three weeks and I was totally fine.”

You raised an eyebrow not believing what he just said “you cried.”

“okay but emotionally ? I definitely grew up”

A small smile tugged at your lips before you can stop it.

“he’ll be back,” Teylan continued, nodding confidently to himself. “So’lek is like… very good at surviving, and being quiet, oh and doing that intense weird cold staring thing”

He paused, thinking “actually maybe too quiet, have you considered he just forgot how to use the comm?”

“I wouldn’t be surprised”

“See? Also if he doesn’t come back soon, I can teach you how to whittle little animals, im bad at it but its fine.”

You exhaled a soft laugh, finally looking away from the fire.

There was a comfortable silence between you two, the river hummed quietly now as you were about to say something you heard a sound.

Crack.

Your head snapped up before you even realized it, your eyes scanning the dark between the trees while teylan noticed it instantly.

“Oh” he said looking around “ that’s either a predator or your melancholic staring finally worked”

You rolled your eyes as you stood up slowly, your heart picking up pace as you approached the shadow.

And then So’lek stepped into the firelight.

His hair was pulled back loosely, a few strands fallen out. One shoulder was smeared with dirt, the other one marked with faint scratches and paint. His chest rose slowly as he breathed, calm and steady. His eyes scanned the area out of habits before finally landing on you.

Teylan blinked.

“Oh..”

So’lek’s gaze softened instantly, his posture easing like he finally allowed himself to be casual.

“Took you long enough,” you said crossing your arms.

Before he could respond, Teylan cleared his throat loudly, stepping in front of you “hi, hello, welcome back from not dying, we were kind of worried uhh mostly her. I was medium worried, do you know comm are made to communicate with other people?”

You looked at Teylan throwing bombs at him, as so’lek raised his eyebrows “you are loud”

“Yeah..” he nodded “I’ve been told”

You crossed your arms, suddenly very aware of how fast your heart was beating. “You’re late”

So’lek titled his head slightly “a week”

“And you even counted huh?”

For a second you thought he might smile, he didn’t. But his eyes wore that softened and that was worse.

“Come,” he said quietly.

“Where?”

Instead of answering, he reached out and took your hand. You barely had time to react before he pulled you gently into the trees.

Branches blurred past, leaves brushing your arms, the forest opening for him like it knew exactly who he was. You struggled to keep up until he finally slowed near a quiet clearing, hidden and green, glowing softly with bioluminescence plants.

Up close you could see the exhaustion in his eyes, the dried blood on his arm, and the tension he hadn’t let go of yet.

You swallowed, checking him out “you okay?”

He nodded softly “I am now.”

You didn’t thought twice, you stepped closer and for a moment neither of you spoke. Then so’lek leaned down slightly resting his forehead against yours.

His hand brushed against your cheek, as his eyes looked deep into yours, and finally his warm lips pressed against yours. The kiss was so gentle, also slow like he was afraid of breaking something previous.

His hand traveled on your hips, grounding you as your hands cupped his jaw, deepening the kiss even more.

“I missed you so much” you whispered against his lips.

“I did too” he replied, before devouring your lips again.

His warm tongue brushed against yours, the slow tango of your mouths made your heart beats even faster.

And when he pulled back, he guided you to lie down on the soft grass. Your hands hooped around his neck as you brought him down on top of you, his body pressed against yours as he kissed you again.

“Lemme make it up to you..” he whispered against your neck, as he peppered kisses all along it.

“No please.. let me do it,” you murmured before sitting down, guiding him to lean back against a rock.

You sat on his lap as you kissed him again, your hands traveled down his firm chest, feeling his heartbeat, then sliding to his abdomens, where the warm muscles tensed by the touch of your fingertips.

You cupped his jaw, looking at his eyes as you untied the lace of his loincloth, you kept your gaze on his while you gently traced the shape of his hard member with the tip of your fingers. He closed his eyes instinctively before letting a low grunt when your hand finally wrapped around his length.

“O Eywa..” he whimpered softly, as you kissed his jaw, your hand not stopping its movement. You felt him pulsing in your palm as you stroked him, alternating between fast and slow, you looked at the little bioluminescence freckles that englobed his shaft, plumping in your hand as you pleasured him.

“Look at you..” you said, voice low, only for him to hear. The state of desperation he was in right now, only made your core aching for him.

“Txantsan oe, yawne..” he grunted again as you pulled your lips back from his neck. You kissed down his collarbone, chest and slowly licked a long stripe of his abdomen, feeling the muscles under your tongue, you licked all the way down until you reached your desired destination.

You didn’t waste time as you took his tip into your mouth, gently sucking on it. You felt his toes curling as your hand stayed on his lap massaging them softly. His hand dropped to your head as you kept your devious ministration, feeling him pulsing against your tongue. And oh.. he tasted soo good, not because it’s sweet or anything but because it was his scent, and it made you crazy.

Your movement turned faster as you took him all in, trying to fit all you can in your mouth, he was a whimpering mess at this point. His head was titled back, his breath heavy. And all you could hear was inaudible murmurs from his lips.

“I’m close—” he groaned, spreading his legs a little more while looking down at you working on him, your eyes met his, and that’s how he loosed it.

With a last whimper — that sounded more like a whiny moan, he came. You kept working on it though. The way he looked was the best view you could’ve ever see. His breath eased as you pulled back from him, getting on his lap again.

“You missed me that much..?” He asked softly, still breathless as his hands hold your hips in place.

You simply nodded before kissing him again, letting him taste himself against your tongue. The kiss became heated as your core brushed against his bare length, that you purposefully rubbed against, the fabric of your loincloth was totally soaked as you kept moving against it, seeking pleasure from it. And so’lek noticed.

He gently took your fiber top off, letting his hand slide down your right breast before leaning and taking one bud into his mouth, sucking on it gently.

“Oh ma So’lek—” you closed your eyes as he nibbled at your hard nipple, suckling, and biting it gently. You kept grinding on his length as he moved to the other bud, giving it the same attention.

You reached back for your kuru, and his hands were already there, guiding his near yours. His forehead pressed against yours as you made tsaheylu. Feeling the warmth, love and desire for each other washing over you.

He kissed your cheek softly as he caressed your whole body, his hand traveled from your waist to your hips, admiring you like the most beautiful creature ever.

“You’re so beautiful paskalin..” he whispered gently, his voice calm and genuine. You caressed his cheek softly, and pressed a kiss on his nose.

“I need you—” you spilled out, feeling the need to get naked and vulnerable physically but mentally as well, letting him see through you completely.

He smiled gently before kissing your jaw, playing with the straps of your loincloth, and when it was gone your warmth pressed against his length. You both stayed here just enjoying the presence of each other.

And then your core enveloped him slowly, his forehead pressed against yours, as his fulness stuffed you gently. You both gasped when you moved your hips against his. The thrusts were more intimate that way, feeling your bodies molding into one as you rocked your cunt against his aching member.

“So good—” you moaned lowly as he stroked your back with one hand, as the other grounded your hips to guide your movement.

You moved back and forth agaisnt him, his mouth crashing agaisnt yours while the delicious frictions under you was making you weak in the knees. He kissed you senselessly, it was less gentle then earlier, it’s more primal. All you could hear was your whimpers and moans merging together.

Your movement fastened as you found yourself riding your highs. The bond that was attached to you made everything even more intense.

You moaned softly as he hit your sweet spot, your hands hopped around his neck as you clung to him.

“So’lek—” your plea made him stroke your back even gentler, his movement became frantic, every thrust was a path forward to your highs.

“You’re doing so good yawne, keep going I’m here” his little praise made your cunt clench around him. causing him to slip a grunt, he was never shy about the noises he made and you loved it. “Im here just for you..”

Your hips started drawing movement on him, writing his name with it, and with every letter he would let a loud grunt out. You bit your lips as you felt that familiar bundle of heat warmer.

“Ma so’lek I’m—” you moaned a last time before reaching your highs, clinging to him as you still felt him pulsing inside of you. And with the way your needy cunt clenched around him, it took him around four seconds before reaching his own high as well. He kept you close while you hugged him, sharing warmth as you breathed in, his hand rubbing your back again. You seeked reassurance from him, and you got it.

He held your chin, making you look at him.

“You did so good Nì’aw” he praised you one last time before placing a soft kiss on your lips. You smiled softly as he pulled you down near that rock, holding you against his muscular and comforting body.

His hand soothed the burning skin between your thighs, as you peppered kisses along his jaw and drew hearts on his chest.

“Get some sleep, you just came back from your mission, you’re probably tired.” You whispered softly.

“Yeah I am, come here” he pulled you even closer as you fell asleep in his arms.

You never gave it much thought. Being bait, that is. You’ve been everything up until this point—a pawn in this sick war, a subject for their experiments, a punching bag for their anger, an object with no value other than the war machine they could train you to be. 

But bait? That’s a new one. 

They like to call him the ‘Dog Tag Warrior’. That’s the name they’ve been using while you’ve been imprisoned between four glass walls, confined to a metal bench by chains that grow heavier by the minute. Days pass by like a thief in the night—silent, unknowable. With no windows, there’s no way to tell if it's night or day—to see what the great mother has created. No reminder of life or hope.  

What’s worse is that every so often one or two of the pink skinned storm inside with their assault rifles and handguns concealed in their boots, threatening you in an attempt to drive fear into your heart. But no matter how much they torture you, whatever the punishment inflicted, the pain doesn’t come close to what you feel when they speak of him. 

And your biggest mistake is letting them figure that out.

“I should’ve blown off his head while I had him.” The male shouts angrily, huffing as his loud footsteps pace up and down the concrete floor. 

You keep your gaze fixed to your bruised ankles as your heart pounds from the terrifying, yet oddly comforting, confirmation that So’lek is alive. You can’t allow them to see your fear. 

No fear, Sarentu, is what he’d say. 

“Then next time, don’t fuck around.” A rough female voice. Next time? “You’re lucky you still have your tag, corporal.”

Your ears flick towards the distinct sound of metal and glass dinging together. You’ve heard this before—the sound alone is enough to bring you back many years ago, to the experiments, to the trauma you endured in TAP. 

You peek up through your lashes, careful not to make any sudden movements, and see her holding a familiar large, glass syringe a foot away from her face. She flicks the tip with her middle finger until some thick liquid spurts out.  

What are they going to do to you now?

“We’re just gonna have to treat these fuckers like the animals they really are.” She says in a sick, twisted tone. “Let’s see how long he can hold out after he gets a whiff of her.”

The male’s finger settles on his trigger as he moves in front of her, towards the door to your enclosure. Your chains drag against the concrete beneath you as you ready your stance. If you could manage to take the gun from the male, you could get out of here. 

You could find So’lek. 

The plan comes to you quickly. Once they’re close enough, you go for the male's mask, then take his gun and shoot the female. 

Easy, right? So’lek’s voice echoes in your head. 

You watch intently as his hand swipes across the biometric reader, causing the seal on the thick, reinforced door to break. Human air gusts in and the pressure in the room changes, briefly disorienting you. Before you can focus, the male aims, pulls the trigger and you feel the impact in your chest. 

The room spins and you look down to see a bright feathered dart lodged into your right breast. You’ve never seen that before. Suddenly, you have to command your lungs to work, your eyes to stay open—your heart to keep beating. But despite it all, you feel yourself slipping away, vision blurring, sounds muffling together. 

Is this death?

“What…What is this?” You slur your words as you reach for the dart, only for the female to slap your hand away. 

She leans in, her face level with yours—her head impossibly large, her body impossibly small—and thrusts the needle into your thigh. You wince, just barely, trying to maintain what dignity you have left as you inhale, then exhale, and inhale again. 

“Ah—d-don’t…touch—What are you…w-what the fuck…is that?” Your low voice echoes in your ears, your vision splitting into two.

“They said it’ll take effect in about two hours.” She speaks with feigned innocence, emptying the syringe into your spasming, burning muscle, “but we just don’t have that kinda time.” She withdraws the needle from you and steps back as your head lulls side to side. “So I gave her double.” 

“Fuck you.” You garble the incoherent words, commanding every muscle in your body to stay upright, to keep your chin up.

“Brutal.” The male chuckles, his vile, pink hand laying softly against your cheek. “Such a shame, she really is a pretty thing.”

A hiss erupts from your throat, only to sound weak and small. Your body feels like dead weight, as heavy as these chains, dragging you down. You can’t move, you can’t get up. 

“Tranq her.” She gives the order, using her scrawny finger to shove your swaying frame until you make contact with the floor. 

“Are you sure? Didn’t they say one is enough?”

“And what? You want to keep her awake enough so she can be your personal toy when we’re finished with her? I said tranq her, Corporal. That’s an order.” 

Another silent shot and your eyes roll to the back of your head. 

“Good. Load her in.” 

–

So’lek has been tracking you down for what feels like months. After a close call with the RDA that left him wounded, he was able to get a good idea of your location from scent alone. He wasn’t going to let anything, not even his own injuries, stop him from finding you. 

Branches whip past him as he prowls through the forest, his bare feet making harsh impact with the flora beneath him. Every dash, every step is precise, measured. He’s been tracking your scent for a little over an hour now, yet it’s leading him off course. Why does your scent become almost overwhelming the deeper he goes into the forest? His pace lags when the realization dawns on him.

They’ve moved you. 

But why? 

He takes a moment to think, to calculate. To make sense of it all. Why would they relocate you? To throw him off? Is this a decoy? What if you aren’t really there? But, what if you are? He won’t take that chance. Your scent is too strong. You must be there. 

So, how could they have acted so quickly? That means there’s less time than he thought. He scowls, frustrated, conflicted. It’s a trap. Exactly what kind of trap, he’s unsure. But it’s one that requires you to be bait. Just the thought ignites a fire inside him. You, out here, possibly alone, injured and weak. 

Easy prey for a hungry predator. 

So’lek won’t allow it. He quickly weighs his options—track your scent into a potential trap, or abandon the mission to regroup. What else can he do? He can’t gather his thoughts, he’s overwhelmed. Your scent is blinding—it’s grown stronger and he’s barely moved. You need him, he senses this in a way he’s never been able to before. He breathes you in, filling his lungs to capacity, letting himself have this one thing, just for this one second. 

There is no choice. 

So’lek wastes no more time, making quick, tactical strides in the direction of your scent. The horrifying, looping thought of what they’ve done to you, or worse, doing to you, drives his feet forward. He’s crouched low, keeping out of sight, camouflaging himself as best he can. He has to approach this perfectly, he can’t afford to make a mistake. He won’t. Not when you’re involved.

When his nostrils almost burn from the scent of you, he slows his tracks once more, observing, plotting. Silent, and lethal. He counts at least ten RDA troops, scattered sporadically amongst the trees. No, never sporadically. They’re in position. He stalks through the shadows of the approaching eclipse, recounting and revising. They’re surrounding a clearing, which is suspiciously empty. It takes a moment for his eyes to focus.

Then he sees you. 

Oh. You. Naked. With what looks to be a strange, miniature arrow—a dart, impaled into your breast. Your head and body slump forward, arms limp behind you, bound to the tree. The flame inside him roars. You look dead, but your welling scent and heaving chest tell him otherwise. 

These pink skinned will pay, he thinks as he decides who will die first, and who will follow in what particular order. 

He unsheathes his knife, preparing for the most meticulous, silent melee of his life. He swallows, forcing himself to regain focus, to chase the lingering, savoury taste of you from his tongue. It’s imperative he isn’t distracted.

Is that a part of their plan?

Focus. 

He makes his first kill. Clean, and silent. But not satisfactory enough. The fire inside him is hungry for more. He moves quickly onto the next, cutting deeper for his Sarentu. He takes special pride and joy in killing your foes. He steals a glance at you and notices your ankles, how the shackles have eaten away at your supple skin. He snaps another thin neck like a twig—easy. His inner fire flares, pleased with the sacrifice. 

But it’s never truly satiated. 

So’lek moves on to the next offering, smothering him as he pins him to the ground, watching as he writhes. He doesn’t look away as the struggle fades. The flame curls, pleased, and despite himself, a grim satisfaction pulls at his lips. This is the part that he can’t always fully control. The part where the fire consumes him, too. 

It’s when he’s most dangerous. Most distracted. 

But for you, it’s almost natural. It’s like a switch flipping. One second he’s here, and the next, he’s somewhere far away. An observer in his own body, watching himself finish off the next six soldiers in a blur of violence and pure instinct. 

It’s not the hushed sound of the shot, no, it’s the heat pooling in his shoulder that brings him back momentarily. The same bright feathered dart, comically tiny in comparison to his arm, lodged in his upper bicep. A menacing growl rumbles from his chest as he looks in the direction of where it fired from. In the shadows, the silhouette of a metal suit stands in front of him, in front of you. 

Wrong bullet of choice. 

So’lek plucks the dart from his arm, his two fingers effortlessly snapping and crushing the frail glass into mere fragments. The metal suit immediately fires another dart straight into his chest. So’lek pants, his ears flickering as he releases a guttural hiss, heated by the flame itself, before he pounces on his prey, unleashing the rest of his wrath. By the end of it, all that’s left is unrecognizable. 

All except for you.

So’lek’s vision clears once he sees you again, granting himself a moment to take in your condition. When his eyes rake over your bare body, he can’t help his thoughts no matter how hard he tries. The thoughts of admiration.

“Tamtey.” He breathes heavily as he stumbles back, his head spinning. 

He glances down and rips the dart from his own chest with a grunt, before falling to his knees to pluck the dart from yours. He forces himself to look away from your puckered, dark nipples. It’s off limits. These thoughts, these feelings, are. off. limits. 

The sound of oncoming machines and the buzz of electricity solidify his self-discipline, and So’lek moves fast, cutting you free and hoisting you over his shoulder. He takes off into the thick foliage, using it to his advantage to keep you both out of sight. 

So’lek pushes himself to his limit, stride after stride, getting you both as far into the forest as possible. As far away from those demons as possible. Until he can no longer ignore the falter in his step. Whatever they shot him with, it’s slowing him down. He’s losing momentum—focus, and he’s losing it fast. 

No. This won’t do. At this rate, he’ll collapse before he can make it to the mountains and that won’t be good for either of you. He ponders his next move, but there’s this cloud in his head that he can’t clear. Double vision sets in and he blinks a few times in an attempt to fix it. He shakes his head from frustration and readjusts you on his shoulder. 

With a deep breath, he starts scoping out the nearest shelter. He spots a rather large rock not too far off, half swallowed by the roots of nearby trees. If he didn’t look hard enough, he would’ve missed the broken mouth at ground level, just big enough for him to fit through. It’s a chance. It could be nothing. Or it could be everything you both need right now.

Warily, So’lek approaches the cave, carefully tucking you among the safety of the roots. Now that you’re hidden, he can focus on scouting out the cave. Rifle in hand, he enters the darkness, discovering that it slopes gently downward, putting you out of his sight. He feels a sense of unease and looks back up at you, hesitating. 

He doesn’t like you out of sight. 

He huffs a sigh and grits his teeth, hauling himself further into the cave. He understands it’s the most logical choice. The air shifts, it’s cooler, and a little damp. He scans the cave, even through the haze, checking sightlines, listening for echoes. The deeper he gets, the more the darkness shifts into color. The bioluminescence of the glowy moss and small creatures bloom, revealing a thin stream that trickles from a narrow crack in the rock. A small waterfall that pools shallowly before disappearing into the stone. 

Good, he nods to himself. Water to drink. 

But more importantly, it's empty. 

It's safe. For now, at least. It’s somewhere to disappear for a few hours and let his body fight its way back. Immediately, So’lek turns back, entirely too uncomfortable with the fact that he can’t see you. Had your scent not followed him into the cave he probably wouldn’t have even gotten this far. When he resurfaces, that same scent floods his senses. It’s overpowering. To the point that he’d be a fool not to acknowledge what it really is. 

Your pheromones. 

You’re in heat. 

He breathes hard, eyes closed, trying to push back that fog creeping through his limbs—his body. Your pheromones are only aggravating his state of mind. He scoops you into his arms, using what strength he has left to carry you inside the cave. He’s careful of your head—of your entire naked body—taking his time as he navigates through the cave. 

Once he reaches the soft moss, he is satisfied enough to put you down. He drops to a knee as he does, gentle with his touch, ensuring your head is cushioned by the thickest part of the moss. You curl into a fetal position on your own, the beads of sweat beginning to ball at your temples, your face screwed with discomfort. 

So’lek takes a moment to gather himself, to gather the strength to move away from you and towards the thin stream. He cups the water, splashing it over his face, letting it run down his jaw and neck. It’s there, in the way his blood stained hands tremble as he pulls them from his face, that the realization settles.

In here, he might be the danger. 

If he can’t get a hold of himself now, what will he do when you wake up? How will he resist…you? He exhales, long and shaky, eyes half-lidded now. He retreats to a nearby ledge, far enough from you, but not too far. His instinct won’t allow it. He lowers himself onto the rock, acting as the shield between you and whatever’s outside of this cave. His back presses against the cool cave wall, and he positions his legs just enough to keep himself steady. He settles his rifle on his lap, head slumping back against the rock, finger near the trigger. 

Even in this state, he’s ready for whatever may come. No one will ever take you from him again. He lets himself rest, for now, stealing glances at you every time your sweet scent wafts towards him. Being in an enclosed space certainly doesn’t help the effect it’s having on him. But he can only hold his breath for so long.

He’s got no other choice but to breathe you in. 

It feels like he’s got the reins in his hands but he can’t grip them tight enough. Like they’ll slip through his hold if your pheromones get any stronger. And they are. They most definitely are. Especially now that you’re starting to wake up. 

Your groans start low, and small. More like little whimpers, but they’ve got him watching you none the less. Those glances are no more. He simply didn’t have the discipline to look away at this very moment. He feels ashamed to stare, and he knows it’s the last thing he should be doing. You’re bare. And he’s your mentor. You trust him implicitly. This would be a breach in that trust. But your nipples are puckered so beautifully, dark and flushed. So’lek’s gaze moves downward, your legs are so tightly closed, yet your arousal is so pungent he can practically taste it. 

His tongue swipes his bottom lip before he swallows, his eyes daring to wander a little further down. Heat pools in his stomach and his brows jump when he sees the single, glistening drop of slick slowly roll down your inner thigh, onto the green bed of flora. He shuts his eyes, a harsh breath expelling from his nostrils, his jaw tight. 

In all honesty, he’s never felt jealousy toward moss before, but there’s a first for everything. So’lek bites his tongue, tasting blood. Anything to snap himself out of this trance he’s in. This is a line he won’t cross—can’t cross. No matter how much he may want. He can’t bring himself to turn his head, so keeping his eyes shut will have to do. 

“Mmmn…” 

The groggy sound dislodges from your throat before you can even register it came from you. It’s like there’s a lag between your body and mind. You know you want to open your eyes, but they don’t listen to your command right away. You need to see, or how else will you know what they’re plotting next? You force them open and things are a blur at first. 

Blobs of colors sprinkle your vision and you try to blink them away. Soon enough they merge and things sharpen until you see that you’re in a place you don’t recognize whatsoever. Panic blooms in your chest, and adrenaline pumps through your veins at a frightening rate. Your eyes, once heavy as sandbags, bulge from your head as you spring into a seated position. 

You scramble back until you hit something rough and hard, and reach for your knife which isn’t there. The worst comes to mind. They’ve dragged you to this place where no one will ever find you and left you for dead. And even worse, they’ve found him and killed him. You look down in horror—you’ve got no top on, no tewng, nothing. You begin to hyperventilate, clutching your chest with one hand and hugging your knees with the other. 

“Mawey.” A familiar, comforting voice coos, and when you look up you realise it’s So’lek. Relief cascades over you. “Mawey, Tamtey. You are safe, I have you. Breathe.” 

He’s towering over you, hand cupping your cheek, concern etched into each wrinkle and scar on his perfect face. But his eyes—they’re hazy and glossy. 

“So’lek? Ma’So’lek!” You sob, fat tears streaming down your cheeks as you throw yourself into his arms. 

“Breathe, Tamtey.” He coos as he cradles you close to him, counting down the seconds he has to savour how you feel in his clutch before he reluctantly lets go. 

You look around, and you’re so, so confused. But if So’lek is here, that means everything will be alright. 

“Where are we?” You ask, chest heaving, body burning. “What…what happened?” 

So’lek’s expression hardens as he skitters back, away from you. His eyes flick down to his feet. “I am…not entirely sure.” 

Suddenly, you’re hyper aware of yourself. The sweaty hair stuck to your neck. Your hard nipples. The faint throb between your legs. What’s happened? You close in on yourself even more, embarrassed. He probably doesn’t even want to see you this way, yet you’ve thrown yourself on him. 

Silence passes. The air is thick with tension, an awkwardness filling the space between you and him. You wrap an arm around your chest and cross your legs. You feel utterly exposed, even though he refuses to look at you. 

If anything, that actually makes it worse.

So you turn inwards, to your own muddy thoughts, trying to run through the last memories you have. They shot you, twice. And gave you an injection. And then…that’s it. That’s all you can remember. An unsettling feeling blankets over you. Why are you naked? And…what did they do to you? Worry cramps your stomach, and suddenly you’re nauseous and clammy. 

“You live, Sarentu.” So’lek’s sarcastic tone brings you back from that dark place. He’s finally looking at you now, eyes filled with concern, a light smile on his face. 

You laugh and wipe your tears with a trembling hand. “You came, chicken.” 

“Hmm.” So’lek hums weakly. He looks spent. Like he can barely keep his head up. Like when they shot you.

“What happened…to you?” You ask quietly, you’ve never seen him like this before. “You look like shit.” 

So’lek’s head rolls towards you and his brow bones jump, one side of his mouth curling into a smirk. 

“Me?”

“Ha-ha.” You say faintly, a soft smile pulling at your lips. Yeah, you do probably look like shit, all things considered. At least you feel that way. Like you’ve been caught in the middle of a titanothere stampede. 

But in the same breath, your body feels…strange. Similar to when you’re sick with a fever. That sort of sluggish, air-headed feeling. 

“My head…mmm—” You mumble to yourself as your eyes flutter shut. There’s a muffled ringing in your ears. “…I don’t know.” 

“Tamtey?” So’lek’s calls for you, but he sounds far away. That ringing in your ears is getting louder. 

A bead of sweat crashes onto your chest, and it’s enough to make you look down. Your skin glistens, your tahnìs blinking haphazardly in the dark. There’s a heaviness down there, a pull that makes your legs open to get more comfortable. 

In a flash, a fog claims your mind as you hazily watch your knees part, exposing how swollen and flushed you are. Your puffy folds glisten, and you go to touch them, curious to see how it feels—how it would feel. Your fingers touch, parting slightly, playing with the stringy, clear slick. 

Just as quickly as the fog comes, it clears. And you’re left with this mortifying sense of clarity of what you just did. Of the fact that he’s just seen you, spread wide. Your legs snap closed and you look up, meeting the glowing eyes of your mentor. 

“I…I don’t know—I don’t know why I just did that. ‘m sorry…” You stumble with your words, looking away in shame, further retreating into the wall. He must be so disappointed in you. 

So’lek doesn’t move. He can’t. If he does, it won’t end well. He just holds his breath, embracing the way his lungs scream for air, focusing on that tight feeling instead of the tightness of his tewng. He acts as if it did nothing to him, like his cock isn’t as hard as it was during his first rut. Like he’s entirely unbothered. 

But the truth is…

Your pussy is perfect. She’s more beautiful than he’s ever imagined. Shiny with your arousal, so inviting. As if she’s calling for him. And he’d cut his own tail off so he could answer. But he doesn’t entertain the thought. Instead, he reminds himself not to breathe. Because if he does, then he’ll really taste you on his tongue. 

“It cannot be helped. It is fine.” He manages to get out of his screaming lungs, inching further away from you. But there’s something inside him that’s physically stopping him from completely leaving your side. 

“It’s not—haaah…” You moan shakily as you feel the fog seep back in. You burst out into a shiver, tiny bumps sprinkling your skin. “It’s coming…again. Th-they gave me…something. I don’t—I’m, I feel weird, So’lek.” 

His head snaps towards you, ears tall and alert. “What did they give you?” 

“I don’t know. S-Something.” Your lungs tremble as a wave of heat covers you like a sheet. “An injection.” 

You moan again, that heavy sensation in your lower tummy grows into a sharp ache and you can’t help but cradle that part of you. 

So’lek growls, displeased by the mere thought. And your body responds to the sound alone, producing more of that slick between your legs. His nostrils twitch and you swear his eyes darken when they fall on you protecting your empty womb. 

He will protect it once it’s full. 

“It’s hot, it’s so fucking hot…” You mumble, smacking your dry tongue.

“You and that mouth.” He rasps, finally taking in a deep breath and immediately regretting it. It’s like the air has gone straight to his head, a pressure swelling there until he can’t form a rational thought. 

You’re dangerous like this. No. You make him dangerous. 

The wave passes and some sort of coherence settles, leaving you feeling the most vulnerable you’ve ever felt in your life. Not only that, but the daunting realization dawns on you that this is entirely out of your control. Like there’s something wrong with your body. Anxiety flashes across your face and sympathy floods So’lek’s. 

“Hold still.” He’s speaking to you like your mentor as he makes cautious, calculated movements towards the small pool of water. He cups it in his hands and brings it to your lips, and you drink from them fervently. It’s more than refreshing, it’s reviving. 

“Better, now?” His voice rumbles, his face just inches from yours. When you’re finished, he drags his calloused, wet hands down your throat, cooling you off. 

The feeling is divine. His touch is right. And he’s so close to you that you can feel his hot breath against you. You can smell him. You hadn’t noticed until now, exactly how good he smelled. And it seems to be coming from somewhere a little further down. You don’t realize that you’re looking there, but there's a notable bulge in his tewng.

“Eyes up, Sarentu.” He rumbles. “Focus.”

“So’lek…” You moan as that formidable fog looms back over your entire body. “Ma’Solek.”

“Do not say it…like that.” His brows furrow and his jaw flutters. 

“Ma’So’lek…” His name drips from your lips again, thick as tree sap, your hand brushing against your heavy breasts. Your nipples tighten, a tingly sensation zinging through you like electricity. You’re an open nerve, all of you. And it makes you squirm. 

“I said, rä’ä rikx [do not move].” He bares his canines as he speaks, his voice is deep and thick with restraint. 

“Don’t think I…can—I can’t…” You pluck at your nipples, over and over, it’s annoying how itchy they’re getting. You feel blood rush to your face as another wave of heat crashes over you, leaving you panting and clammy. “Oh, Ma’So’lek…Touch…touch me, please.”

“You are not in your right mind.” So’lek strains his words as he stumbles back, his head turned away from you, yet his eyes still locked on your every move. 

He scorns himself for the lack of discipline he’s showing, for looking at you in your most vulnerable state. He mounts the ledge with a gruff grunt, slightly spreading his legs to make space between his thighs. He leans back, abs tensed, his body unbelievably heavy.

Then your womb throbs. A yearning sensation, something instinctual flares inside you. It’s not pleasant, but it’s not unpleasant either. It’s just different. An entirely new feeling. You clutch your belly, curling over yourself, trying to understand this all. 

“What’s happening?” You whine, crossing your legs tight to quell that bothersome pulse.

“They put you in heat.” 

“H-Heat? I’ve never…I really, I-I don’t like it.” 

“You never…?” So’lek hisses softly, sinking his head into his hands. 

Of course you’ve never had your heat cycle. You’re half his age. Between that and cryo, it makes complete sense as to why you’re so confused. It’s why you’re so innocent to him to begin with. You’re young, and a little naive. Inexperienced. Untouched. Oh. You’ve never been touched, which means…he’d be your first.

No. No, he won’t. 

His fingers rake through his hair as he breathes hard and fast, his hands covering his ears to muffle your sounds. It’s like listening to an ikran in distress. He wants to help, to make it better. But he can’t, so he won’t. Not like this.

“Nggh–h-how…why’d they…why?” You can barely speak, just let these humiliating sounds come from some primal part inside you. 

“So I will come.” Constraint tenses his deep voice, but it's laced with something else, too. 

Hunger. 

You don’t understand, you just want. You crave, you need, you yearn. For him. It still doesn’t make sense to you. There is no point in trying to understand, to fight this. It’s going to happen no matter how much you resist it, so it only makes sense to just let go. To let it happen, right?

“Would it be…haah…s-so bad?” You ask hazily, settling on your knees, letting your hand slip down between your thighs. 

“Yes.” He’s sharp with his answer, giving you that tone he usually does when ‘it’s final’. Dismay bursts through your ribcage. 

“But why?” You let out a frustrated sob, sounding like a child who didn’t get their way. “Why not!”

“Tamtey.” 

He uses your name like a warning, finally looking at you, just to meet his biggest temptation yet. You’re touching yourself, your inexperienced fingers fumbling, your eyes half lidded and cloudy. Inside, he burns with shame—the internal battle of conflict ensuing. 

“I have lived nearly twice your life already.” He sounds weak. He is weak. Whatever they shot him with is still coursing through his bloodstream. 

“Ke tare [it doesn’t matter].”  

“It does.” He snaps at you, overwhelmed by a new, stronger wave of your pheromones. Your heat is peaking. So’lek narrows his gaze on you, his mouth turning downwards. “You are still young. It is your first heat. I will not hurt you.” 

The tears come, and you can’t stop them. They’re only confirming what he’s said. “…it’s already hurting.”

“Shushh…Mawey. I do not like when you cry.” His breath shakes from restraint, from the struggle between what he wants and what he should do. “You are strong enough for this, Sarentu.”

You whimper as you fall forward on your hands and knees, sinking your chest into the moss until your hips lift into the air—your tail swishing wildly behind you. This position feels better, it dulls the ache, it satisfies the pull. It’s the position your body should be in. 

So’lek watches you through lidded eyes, groaning when you rock back and forth a little. He wants to come behind you and settle on his knees. He can see himself so vividly, curving over you, his pelvis flush to you, pressing into that soft, sticky slit you're presenting to him. Instinct rides him, and he shifts his hips. 

He wants to take this bait. 

The scent of your pussy is driving him mad, he can’t take it. He can smell how ripe you are from where he sits. He wishes you’d move to the side a little so he can get a better look, like you did earlier when you mindlessly played with your puffy folds. He craves to know how it feels inside. 

You don’t mean to move. It just happens. Your palms press into the moss, one in front of the other, your knees following effortlessly behind. This distance between you and So’lek feels wrong, his scent isn’t strong enough anymore. 

Why is he so far away? 

So’lek doesn’t dare take his eyes off you, every muscle in his body is flexed—eerily still. Because you look like a palulukan stalking him, hunting her prey. He’s yours. And it’s doing something to him, something dangerous. He presses his pelvis forward, chasing the throb down there that he can’t ignore anymore. 

You start at his calf, nudging at it with your cheek. You drag your flushed face up his muscular leg, past his knee. You're inhaling his musk, deep and long, pressing your nose into his thigh. 

“Sarentu…” He exhales shakily, his hands gripping relentlessly onto the stone. “What are you doing?” 

“It’s coming…from here.” You mutter into his inner thigh, rubbing your face against him as you breathe in his musky scent. It’s stronger the further up you go. 

“You are scenting me.” He whispers through gritted teeth, “…like I am yours.” 

“Yes, ma’So’lek.” You moan, your hands wandering up his thighs. You push them further apart, your face burrowing right between them. “You belong…to me.”

So’lek’s restraint is palpable. It’s in every loud breath he heaves, to each small spasm of his muscles.

“Tamtey.” He warns longingly, his throat tight. “You are going to send me into rut.” 

“You want me.” It’s not a question, it’s defiance—insistence. You know it in your bones. You feel it radiating from him, his containment, the way he’s peering down at you between his legs. 

So’lek’s jaw tightens. His lips press thin as he intentionally slows his breath, each movement measured. 

“Yes.” He speaks through his teeth, quick and breathless. He will never lie to you, not even about this. 

“Then let me.” You breathe open mouthed against his inner thigh. Your sensitive lips drag upwards, right across that bulge inside his tewng. 

“No…Sarentu.” He speaks quietly, brows tensed, ears slicked back. 

“Smell s’good.” You mumble, rubbing your face against it. It’s hot, and it strains hard against the fabric. You want to see what’s inside. 

“You…” He groans from the friction, his breath heavy as he fights the pleasure. “You do not know what you are doing.” 

“Want…please.” Your tongue darts out for a taste, but it doesn’t taste like much. You need to get rid of this thing stopping you. Frustrated, your hand lugs higher, weak fingers tugging at the taut material.

He’s the male. He’ll help you. 

“Help, Ma’So’lek, help.” 

Hearing you plead for help triggers something inside him, that part that screams protect. Provide. His hand jolts, instinctively going for his tewng, but he stops it at the last second. He can’t think straight, not when your innocent, flushed face looks so perfect between his legs. 

“You will regret this, Sarentu.” His voice is strained, his eyes closing. 

“No, please. Please.” You beg, out of your mind, going for his tewng again, tugging it a little harder. “Want to see…what’s inside. Let me. It smells…s’good.” 

“Eywa.” He hisses through gritted teeth, opening his eyes to see you nipping at his tewng with your little canines. “Give me the strength.” 

“It's what I want…I need…I hurt, ma’So’lek.” 

Well, that pains his heart. Heavily. He can’t have you hurting like this. His hand moves, guiding yours, hooking your fingers underneath the side of his tewng, shifting it slowly. He’s in a trance, moving on impulse as he watches your tail swish excitedly, your body vibrating with eagerness. 

His chest swells with pride, he’s satisfying you, doing you right, as he should. It is right—whatever you want. His duty is to give it to you. Your ears flicker and then pin to your skull, your mouth seeking the source of his scent. You whine longingly, shifting your knees, shuffling closer. 

Eager to see. Your hands slip to his thighs, holding them there so they don’t move, one hand gripping just underneath his muscle. Your fingers sink into his skin, your heart beating its way out of its cage. 

So’lek’s breath is so heavy it’s audible, he’s never seen you so eager. His tewng finally shifts to the side, and his cock springs out, painfully hard. 

Immediately, you rub against his length with your face, enjoying how hot it feels on your skin.

“Tamtey…” So’lek rasps your name in a haze, mesmerized by you entirely. His hand seeks out the ledge once more, gripping it with all his strength when your wet nose brushes against his tip. His cock twitches away from your face, slapping against his stomach. 

“...what are you—?”

He watches as you shove your nose into that space between his thigh and cock, filling your lungs to capacity. Your tail thrashes wildly behind you as you shuffle even closer, your achy breasts brushing against his calves. 

“Ma’So’lek…Ma’muntxatan….” 

Yes. So’lek purrs at the sound of you calling him yours. He is your mate. He feels that is so. That’s also right. His hips buck, the tip of his cock leaking with slick, beading down his length. 

You want to taste it properly, and your mouth opens, tongue lolling out, wet and inviting. You look up at him through damp lashes, dazed. He’s watching intently, like his life depends on it. 

Glancing down, you really see it. It’s big, really big. And hard, so hard it’s straining. His tip tapers into a point, garnished with small spikes, his slit oozing and leaking. He’s throbbing too, just like you. You want to lick the veins protruding down his length, to the base of his cock that's turning deep purple. 

You want to know how it feels against your tongue. 

So’lek draws in a sharp breath when you rest his tip against your hot tongue. Sweetness bursts on your tastebuds and you moan, closing your lips around the head of his cock so you can swallow the taste. It pulses in your mouth, his balls pumping more of those delicious beads into your cheeks. 

Your pussy tightens, slick dripping down your thighs—your belly swirling with anticipation. Your eyes flutter shut as you take more of him inside until that swollen, pointed tip hits the back of your throat and your shoulders heave when you gag. 

A guttural groan rumbles from him, and his hips stutter, making you gag again. He’s never experienced anything like this in his almost forty years of living. How do you look so innocent doing something so filthy? He doesn’t know what to make of it, pleasure and guilt tighten his stomach. It feels too good, his body is reacting quicker than his mind.

His hips drive forward again, rougher this time, but you don’t gag—drool just oozes from the corners of your mouth, your nose getting snotty. His ears grow hot and his swelling balls pull tightly to his core. He’s going to shoot his load down your throat if he doesn’t find the strength to stop you soon. He can’t do that to you. He shouldn’t even be doing this with you now. 

Fuck. He’s losing it, really losing it. He wanted to do this right, to ask you to be his mate. 

But the little self control he had left is gone. Like it was never there to begin with. He’s on the cusp of it now, he feels it creeping up on him. Threatening to take the reins straight from his hands. That fire inside him is waking up again, and it’s not demanding spilled blood. 

It’s demanding you. 

That plump slit between your legs. It wants him inside, deep, touching the opening of your womb. The womb he’ll fill with his seed that you will bear for him. He’s longed for it for some time, to see you round and swollen, carrying a part of him inside you day and night. Now he can make it happen, he can make it real, right here, right now. He can hold you down as you squirm and breed your cunt, over and over. Then he’ll knot you, deep enough to hear your sweet sounds of pain and pleasure, keeping you stuck to him—from running away. 

He’s staring at your expression, hot and bothered, your lips stretched around his fat cock perfectly. He thrusts his hips, driving his cock a little deeper down your throat. His hands fly to your head, fingers weaving through your hair, and he firmly holds you there as you gag repeatedly. With every gag, his knot swells and his cock throbs. He’s going to come down your throat. 

Shit. He’s going to come down your throat.

The realization hits him like a punch to the face and he springs to his feet, his cock popping out of your mouth as you fall to your behind. You gasp for air, unable to catch your breath properly as you stare up at him expectantly. Your hands reach down for the heat between your legs, rubbing and tickling and the sight sends his cock frantically jumping. 

“Tamtey.” He growls low in his throat, his rut riding him hard. “Run.”