word count: 1220
Pairing: Neteyam Sully x Female! Metkayina! Na'vi Reader Tags/warnings: Fluff, angst, bittersweet, established relationship, adult reader, adult Neteyam, no smut Summary: Neteyam quietly watches you from the shore as you perform a ritual dance in the water, to the utter delight of your daughters.
Author's Note: Set some time after the big battle. Also moved those events further ahead. You and Neteyam are mated and have children before the RDA attacks the reef. Got inspired by the song~
Sa’nu - mum, mommy
Tahni - bioluminescent freckle
Close your eyes.
Deep breathes.
Remember the moves.
Remember the words...
Your heart thrums in your chest almost painfully. You take a deep, slow, calming breath; placing a hand over your heart.
“Sa’nu? Are you okay?”
You open your eyes, looking down to meet the gaze of your youngest daughter. The cool water of the sea comes up to her neck. Sweet thing. You told her, she and her sister could watch you from the shoreline. But they were persistent to be as close to you as possible. The water barely reaches your hips.
You offer a soft smile, reaching down and affectionately stroking her hair.
“I’m okay…Don’t worry my little star. Mommy’s just nervous.” The 5-year-old beams up at you with a toothy grin. Your 6-year-old beside her pats you on the arm.
“You practiced aaaaall the time! You got this.” She offers you her own encouraging smile. You give her an appreciative nod before facing the shoreline once more. You return your face to neutrality, closing your eyes once again.
You hear the disturbance of the water as your daughters move a bit to the side to give you more space to move.
With one final calming breath, you open your mouth and begin the song cord of your family.
---
Neteyam stands under the shade of a nearby tree on the shoreline. His arms are crossed as he watches the three of you.
The evening breeze carries your voice to him. He stands up straight when the sound hits his ears.
When you sing, it reminds him of the melody of birdsong in spring. No matter how many years may pass between you two, every time he hears you play the instrument of your heart, he feels like he could fall in love with you all over again.
He takes in your form as you start swaying in the water, admiring you from top to bottom.
Your hair, thick and long, reaching all the way down to your knees; you and your sisters spent what must have been hours, braiding it into the intricate patterns now adorning your head.
Even from this distance, he can still make out the faint markings of the tattoos framing your face. Though today you also have a thin line of white painting the centre of your face. You could have mud smeared all over and he would still find you to be the most beautiful woman; you have him convinced you are blessed by Eywa herself.
You arms move slow and with purpose through the air; attuned with the words as they fall from your lips.
Your soft lips.
How he wishes he could kiss you right now.
You dip down, submerging your arms into the water. In one fluid motion, you rise back up to your feet, the motion you perform with your hands and arms bring water up with you as you rose. Your arms are stretched out to your sides as you pirouette.
Neteyam’s heart skips a beat as he watches you, and it’s as if time itself slows, just so he can drink in the beauty of your very being.
With your back to eclipse, your front is cast in shadow.
The water falls around you in a shimmering curtain of rain. The last light of eclipse hits the smooth stones woven into the fabric on your chest; causing a cascade of colours to dance across your skin. And when the sun disappears, your tahni come to life like the brilliance of dawn.
It’s one of his most favourite parts of your body. Though you had the scattered stars as did all Na’vi, for reasons he attests only to being blessed by Eywa, you have thin bioluminescent swirls weaving itself around your arms, chest, and all down your legs. To him it’s like a faint galaxy glittering in the night.
He recalls fondly the memory of him knowing each and every star on your body intimately.
And in the fading light of the day do you shine before him. Resplendent as you are in the day, so too will you dazzle the world around you in the darkness of the approaching night.
His heart throbs something fierce when you open your eyes after dipping into the water once more. Even behind the curtain of water, or the netting of the fabric draped over your head, your eyes glow with a fierceness he knows all to well. It pierces his very soul, a warmth sweeping over him.
He drinks you in more as you bend your form this way and that. He wishes he knew the intricacies of your dance; understood what each fluid motion meant, the significance of each swish of your tail, or the ways you angle your hands and bend your fingers.
You close your eyes as you near the end of the cord song.
As you perform another twirl, you playfully swat the water with your thick tail, splashing your daughters.
Their uncontrollable gigging brings a smile to your face. You open your eyes as you continue to dance, giving them a loving look. They’re splashing each other with reckless abandon as they try to imitate your moves. You can’t help the unrestrained laughter their antics bring you.
Neteyam laughs quietly to himself as he watches his girls playfully flay about in the water. Every day since their birth he’s given thanks to both you and the Great Mother for blessing him with such miracles. He hadn’t thought it was possible to love something as much as he loved you.
He feels a stray tear fall down his cheek. But he doesn’t move to wipe it away. Instead he continues to smile as he watches your song and dance coming to its conclusion.
You turn to face the horizon, and his gaze drifts to his girls.
They’re singing something he can’t quite make out, but he loves the sound nonetheless.
And when their eyes meet his, finally noticing his presence, they wave at him wildly, giggling all over again.
His smile grows wider, and he offers them a small wave back.
---
One final pose, and you hold the final note of your song, eyes still closed. You hold that note until your lungs and throat burn.
You hear the excited cheers of your daughters as they shower you with praise. Your breathing is laboured as your heart pounds in your chest, but you offer them a bow and a small smile of gratitude.
You turn yourself to the horizon before you finally open your eyes. The ritual dance has come to and end.
You rub the cool ocean water on your cheeks, in your neck, and down your arms; all in an effort to cool you down from your laborious activity. You breath deep in from the nose, and slowly exhale through your mouth, calming your rapid heartbeat.
The girls still giggle beside you, resuming their unrefined dancing; now also singing their favourite lullaby in lieu of a songcord.
Sufficiently cooled off, you turn your head to your daughters to admire them in their silliness.
Your brow nits in slight confusion though, when you see them waving at something behind you, giggling all the while.
You turn around, curiosity in your eyes.
But the shoreline is just as empty as when you arrived.
---
Author's Notes: It was a private funeral dance 😢
💝💝💝THE USUAL SUSPECTS 💝💝💝
@rsclopez, @manymaria111, @olivia-the-weirdo, @sarcasticrandy, @royallaufeyson, @essenceinpink, @totesnothere04, @mechformers, @angel-of-silver369, @the-hufflebird-girl, @villirios, @dyingofcookies, @goddesslilithmoriarty
If you don't think that fanfic writers get attached to their commenters and repeat commenters... you're crazy.
There's people who comment on my stories, disappear for months at a time, then comment when they catch up and I almost always remember their tagnames. It means the WORLD to me as a writer to have people who comment both regularly and irregularly on my stories/oneshots/moodboards.
When you guys go away for a few weeks or months... we notice! We hope you're okay and just taking a break, and when you come back rested and excited to read more stories, we're so happy to have you back.
So yes, please comment on stories even if it's once in a blue moon. You're not annoying, you're not overbearing for multiple comments or being super excited. You're helping fuel a writer to keep writing just to see what you have to say next about the next chapter! You're doing the Lord's work with your comments!
Whether you leave a Russian novel in a comment, or just go "noice", like... it makes the writer brain go !!!!!!💞
i met u yesterday n ily with all my heart now, thanks for giving me serotonin xo 😻💗😽
TYSVM YOU PRECIOUS BEAN <3
reblog if your inbox is always open for new members of the fandom who may be a little shy or intimidated. doesn’t matter whether or not you’re a “popular blog”; everyone here is equal and if you’re reading this as a new person/someone considering entering the fandom, we will not turn you away!!!! talk to us!! make friends!! i more than understand being shy but trust me this fandom is chill come join us in this hellhole
Pairing: Human/Recom/Na'vi Miles Quaritch x Female! Na'vi! Sully! Reader Tags/Warnings: 18+ ONLY, rare pairing, possibly dark content, smut, adult themes, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, lust, older man x younger woman, under age reader (16), degradation, nsfw, dubious consent, dirty talk, orgasm, orgasm denial, foul language, choking, p in v - each chapter will have it's own tags
Author's Notes: Am I going crazy? I can't find the masterlist for this fic so I'm making a new one. Seems like it just *POOF* disappeared! Someone let me know if I'm just blind >_>
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
---
Tags: @mechformers @wwebaby657 @zomerlovesme @girlnred @raving-raven-writing @meeeeep5 @imavaduh @mxn14 @ashy-kit @manymaria111 @johoevi @iamwh0iam @jadesmyname @lvangel98 @watertastesnice1 @belos-simp69 @wren-solos @pandoragalora @strbyallycow @so-this-is-a-thing-noww
Pairing: Human/Recom/Navi Miles Quaritch x Female! Na'vi! Sully! Reader Tags/Warnings: 18+ ONLY, rare pairing, possibly dark content, smut, adult themes, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, lust, older man x younger woman, under age reader (16), degradation, nsfw, dubious consent, dirty talk, orgasm, orgasm denial, foul language, choking, vaginal fucking - each chapter will have it's own tags
Author's Notes: Am I going crazy? I can't find the masterlist for this fic so I'm making a new one. Seems like it just *POOF* disappeared! Someone let me know if I'm just blind >_>
Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7
--- Tags: @mechformers @wwebaby657 @zomerlovesme @girlnred @raving-raven-writing @meeeeep5 @imavaduh @mxn14 @ashy-kit @manymaria111 @johoevi @iamwh0iam @jadesmyname @lvangel98 @watertastesnice1 @belos-simp69 @wren-solos @pandoragalora @strbyallycow @so-this-is-a-thing-noww
if y’all think i blog with my head you’re wrong.
this blog is run by pussy and sponsored by horny
Quaritch’s dramatic portrait
Had to redo his shading twice but absolutely love the result !! He is very pretty ! 💙
Is this true? This how it works? I did wonder why I kept seeing some of my fav writers reblogging their own stories 🤔
IF YOU ARE NEW ON MY PAGE AND OR NEW ON TUMBLR LISTEN UP
If you do NOT reblog anything on anyone's post, and only like someone's content PLEASE know that this is not TikTok, creators do not get exposure from likes, they get exposure from REBLOGING,
YOU NEED TO REBLOG STUFF!!!!!
I do not post stories or one shots or short fanfics or any type of art myself but I have friends on this app that do and they do not get the exposure that they deserve I know creators who have stopped creating content or want to stop making content because they feel as if no one likes there content that they created because they were not getting EXPOSURE!!!!
Again I get it if your new, but if you have been here for a while YOU NEED TO START REBLOGING
If it seems like I'm angry, I'm not. I'm just frustrated for my friends and other content creators that I love who are not getting enough exposure who are really really talented like these amazing people who write
@auntvamp @beoneofus @pixielostboy @immortal-velociraptor @myers-meadow @phantomenby @redrosewritingsstuff @lauraneedstochill @prettywhenibleed @sunshinewwx @st-danger @undyingghoul @theyre-only-noodles-michael @luminnara @henhouse-horrors @komotionlessqueenmm @thoushallnotfall @bloodybrahms and @a-supernatural-writer
And also these lovely people who do art/drawing @ominouscrypt and @feuvyper and I'm positive there is more but I couldn't find them, ANYWAY BACK TO THE POINT
You need to start rebloging or people will stop making your favorite content, these are people, human people who deserve way more than they are getting and You Guys Need To Start Caring More, because what happens when they lose motivation to write or to draw because no one is looking at the amazing shit and rebloging them, they work so hard to please people and then y'all treat them like shit, and you guys wonder why people quit writing, making art, and writing poetry it's because they aren't getting exposure
Open your fucking eyes and start rebloging shit on this app or your favorite content creator may just stop posting
Word count: 5086
Pairing: HUMAN Miles Quaritch x Female NA'VI Reader Tags/Warnings: 18+ ONLY, rare pairing, possibly dark content, smut, adult themes, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, lust, older man x younger woman, under age reader (16), degradation, nsfw, dubious consent, dirty talk, orgasm, orgasm denial, foul language, choking, vaginal fucking
Author's Note: This came to me in a day dream. Listening to this song. Set in the same idea I have for Lie of Providence, where you're able to communicate with the spirit of Quaritch in a Dream. Though it's a bit different there. Won't be included in LoP. Have kept reader's appearance vague in some parts so imagine it as you will.
| 1 | <next chapter>
*by clicking keep reading you understood the contents there within*
You shouldn’t want this. You should not be feeling like this. Oh Great Mother, the shame is near unbearable. Yet you are powerless to stop yourself. You want him, this you know. He is a man. Not like the boys of the clan. Immature, stupid boys who know nothing. No, this is a man. You have no doubt he would treat you the way you deserve. Or perhaps, the ways in which you want to be treated.
It started as a childish crush; a flight of fancy. A silly little thing you were, developing feelings for a man you only see in a shared Dream. You enjoyed watching him flex those oh so strong arms, the expanding of that broad chest with each precious breath. Each movement deliberate, no energy wasted in the fluidity of his being. He was taller than you then.
But time passes and it brings with it changes you weren’t entirely expecting. Becoming taller than him at 17 was a given. You’re almost 7’5” now, and will surely keep growing till you’re at least your mother’s height. What you did not expect however, was the swell of your chest. The women of your tribe you notice, do not have such large breasts. They are small, extenuating their lithe form, the agile body of Huntresses. But here you stand, barely an adult, with tits bigger than your hands. Your hips are noticeably wider too.
As time made you older, so too did it make you bolder. You care not if his gaze meets yours as you shamelessly stare down at him when he trains. You openly watch him do any human ritual, especially when it involves him testing the limits of his physique. And you notice too, how his gaze lingers on you. His eyes travel up and down your form when he thinks you do not notice. You eat up the silent attention. You sure as shit weren’t getting it from the young boys of your tribe.
Sure, mother and father tried their best arranging future mates for you. But every meeting of the family, you seem to be the only one to notice the boys’ upturn sneer. To them, you were always a freak. Proportionally wrong. A half-breed.
Your friends tell you not to worry about it. Boys are stupid anyway and wouldn’t know a good thing even if Eywa herself was prostrated before them. Yet you can’t help the jealously that rips through your very blood when they speak of stolen kisses and secret rendezvous. They do not make tsaheylu, as that is sacred and meant for their future life mate, but that doesn’t stop them exploring their baser desires with equally eager boys. And as the days to weeks to months pass, the frustration of it all builds until you are bursting at the proverbial seams.
And when the dam finally breaks, so too does your rational thinking. You are sick of your feelings being rebuffed by these stupid, immature boys. And you are equally as sick of this bizarre dance you’ve entered with Quaritch. If his soul is going to share Dreams with you, and so blatantly eat you with his gaze, then by Eywa does he owes you some actual attention.
---
And so tonight you are going to put your plan into action. You adorn the least amount of beads and thread you possibly can, barely covering your nipples let alone the rest of your chest. You wear a loincloth with a thinner cut fabric in the back, it easily gets eaten into the swell of your ass. You’re sure Quaritch is going to like that, if his roaming eyes are anything to go by. The final touch are some pretty feathers in your hair which you let hang lose and un-braided. You take your ikran and fly somewhere else into the forest; you do not want to be disturbed this night and Eywa forbid your family asks about what you are wearing (or lack thereof).
You find somewhere suitable to lay your head for the night, the flattened top of a nearby tree. Your ikran makes themself comfortable elsewhere, far enough to give you privacy, but close enough to hear you call should you need them.
You sit on your haunches and take a big calming breath. You look up to clear sky. Eywa has blessed tonight with warm breezes and a dazzling display of stars. The forest is alight with bioluminescence and it brings you a sense of comfort. And with that, you lay yourself down and close your eyes.
---
The Dreamscape too, it would seem, has taken the shape of Night. As you have hoped, you are immediately in a Human settlement. You think it is perhaps Hell’s Gate, but something is different. You cannot tell, but it feels different. No matter. These are irrelevant details. You are here on a mission.
You let pure instinct guide you into and through a building. You are drawn to him and he to you. Finding him is never difficult. As you traverse the halls, you are thankful you do not have to bend as to not hit the ceiling, though were you fully grown it would probably be a problem. You immediately stop in front of a door. He’s in this room. You take a moment to steel your resolve. You do not want to back out now. Not when you’ve already come this far. You take a deep breath, then press button on the side.
---
Quaritch finds it strange. To know oneself is dead. To be a wondering soul, bound to The All Mother. To say he was surprised to learn she was indeed real, would be an unprecedented understatement. Yet she does not speak to him. But he can feel her influence wherever he wonders. Most surprising though, is You.
By Eywa’s grace, the two of you keep sharing Dream spaces. He’s sure you’re not dead though your spirit visits him often. And he’s also sure of one other thing; you must be sweet on him. Never in his waking life, and apparent afterlife, would he have foreseen something like this. A savage girl, the daughter of the traitor Jake Sully, developing a crush on him.
It was cute at first. When you were small. But you’re not a child anymore. And he has, to his disgust and pleasure, taken notice. He thinks of the way you tease him, swaying your hips with purpose when you jog ahead so as to walk in front of him. That damn tail flicking whichever way to draw his attention. When you puff out your chest when you show him how good you’ve become with bow and arrow. Oh yes, he’s sure you’re doing this shit on purpose. And you stare! You openly stare, and when he catches you, you don’t even try to hide it. The audacity of it all.
He’s not even sure if you’re considered an adult by your people’s standards. He never once cared to learn about the filthy natives’ culture. If he remembers correctly, you had mentioned to him last time he saw you that you were 16, coming on 17. You were complaining about some dumb teenage boy in your clan. Something or rather about not finding you attractive. He let you vent your frustrations by manifesting an appropriate sized gun turret in the shared Dreamscape for you.
You mounted the machine without hesitation, and shot at nothing in particular. Your frusted yells drowned out by the loud rhythmic expulsion of bullet rain. And while you had your cute little moment, he watched as your supple body jiggled and bounced oh so wonderfully.
It’s wrong, he knows it. To lust after such a young teenage girl. But you’re not exactly human.
He rubs the back of his neck frustratedly; doesn’t even notice he’s manifested himself in his old quarters, a place of comfort.
---
He tries to clear his mind. Think of something, anything else. But it all comes back to you. Fuck you’re a God damn tease. A succubus sent by Eywa to torture him. God dangling a piece of Eden in front of him, just out of reach.
What he wouldn’t give to bury himself deep into that pretty little cunt of yours, a hand grabbing fistfuls of your hair as you cry out in pain and pleasure. He wants to leave pretty purple bruises up and down your skin. Mementos he hopes you carry out with you into the waking world. He wants every one of those pathetic teenage boys to know who you really belong to. Show them how a real man lays claim to what’s his. Typical savages having no fucking taste. There’s a tent in his pants now, and he’s about to reach in and relieve himself when the sound of the door sliding open catches his attention.
Speak of the Devil and so shall She appear.
When the door opens you stop yourself in the door way. There he is, standing in the centre of the room. He’s wearing that black singlet you love so much; the entirety of his arms are exposed as well as part of that divine broad chest. The giant window ceiling lets in the natural light of the night awash the room in gentle moonlight.
You’re blushing hard, you can feel the heat spread up from your neck and dust your cheeks. There is a gentle heat forming between your legs as you keep staring.
“Well hey there Sweetheart. Now aren’t you just a sight for sore eyes…” Quaritch is the first to break the silence. His eyes start from your face, and slowly he rakes it down to your loin cloth and back up to face; not before lingering on your chest you notice.
“Now you didn’t have to get all dressed up pretty for lil’ old me—or should I say, dressed down?” You smile shily, brushing some of your hair behind your ear. “Come closer darlin’, let me get a good look at’cha.” He’s smirks at you mischievously.
You obey without thinking and step into the room to stand before him, the door shuts behind you instantly with a quiet swoosh.
When you’re this close, the height difference is a bit more apparent. His head height is perfectly situated at your breasts.
He hums approvingly, then gestures behind him for you to take a seat on the bed. When you, he standing in front of you, arms crossed on his chest. You bite your lip noticing the bulge of his biceps, your tail flicks excitedly behind you. He chuckles when he notices.
“Now tell me, [Y/N]—” it takes a great deal of willpower to stop the whine threatening to escape your throat when he says your name in that delicious accent. You audibly inhale. “—what exactly is it, that you think you’re doing Sweetheart?”
You decide you to feign ignorance. It is far too embarrassing to simply come out and say it. You want him to say it; want him to be the one to admit it first. He wants you just as much as you want him.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Colonel,” you see the slight tense in his arms when you address him by his title; ‘oh he definitely likes that’. You place your hands in your lap, lightly squeezing your breasts together with your arms. You see his eyes shift down to stare at your cleavage, you can feel your nipples teasing through the bare fabric. He licks his teeth and you inwardly shudder at the action.
“Oh ho, I think you do, you little fucking tease. Now what I’m wondering is, does your Dear ol’ Pa know you’re here? Presenting yourself in front of the enemy like that.” Quaritch bends forward so he’s eye level with you. “I wonder how disappointed he’d be right now. Guess his sweet little [Y/N] ain’t so innocent after all, huh?”
“I do not want to talk about my Father right now Quaritch,” you huff at him frustratedly. You don’t want to think about your family right now, that’d be a sure-fire way to kill the mood before it’s even begun.
“Oh? Then, what is is that you want to do, [Y/N]?”
“You know exactly why I’m here Quaritch…” you avert your eyes, too embarrassed to make extended eye contact. You don’t see him lean closer, moving to the side of your head to whisper directly into your ear.
“Come now you’re a big girl [Y/N]. Why don’t you use your big girl words? Be a good girl, and tell the Colonel what it is that you want?” You audibly whimper. He moves to the front of your face again, grabbing your chin in his hand, forcing your face forward.
“Now I’ll ask again—What is it that you want hm? What is your plan here?”
“Eyes on me baby,” your ears perk forward at the new moniker, eyes immediately fixed on him. Oh Great Mother this man is going to break you.
“I—I—want…”
“SAY IT.”
“You! My plan! You were my p-plan! It is you that I want! Please Colonel!” You all but yell when he commands you. You squeeze your eyes shut, the shame and embarrassment too much after such a declaration.
You hear Quaritch hum approvingly and can practically hear the smirk in his voice.
“Well, aren’t you just sweet?”
His lips crash onto yours suddenly. Both of his hands are on either side of your head, holding you firmly in place. He doesn’t move at first, testing to see your reaction. When he feels you tilt slightly to one side and gently push up into him, he deepens the kiss. You’re a mess of teeth, saliva and tongue. Hot breath mingling in each other’s mouths. By Eywa does he taste divine. Better than anything you could have possibly imagined. Heat pools at the base of your belly. The tiny flicker of a flame come to life. You stupidly wonder if the boys of your clan are even a fraction as skilled as he.
“I can feel ya thinkin’ about something you shouldn’t be, naughty minx.” He says when he breaks away from you. He pushes your collar bone forcefully enough for you to fall back onto the bed with an oof. You lean up on your elbows to look at him at the foot of the bed, your legs planted firmly on the ground.
He uses his legs to kick apart your legs and stands in the space between.
“Let me clear that pretty little head of yours…”
He leans onto the bed, presses his right thigh firmly against your sex, his hands are on your hips holding you in place. A pleasured gasp escapes you, the sudden unexpected feeling of pleasure sparks from your core through your entire body.
Satisfied that you won’t move, you can feel him move his hands up the expanse of your body, thumbs pressing into you as he traces the stars painting your skin. Upward he travels till he reaches your chest. Your breasts are exposed to the open are, your meagre coverings having fallen wayside when he pushed you back before.
He delicately traces the glowing pattern of one breast, before he gives you a gentle squeeze.
“Hmmm~” you murmur at the feeling, warmth pooling at the precipice of your legs. He grabs you, one in each hand, and starts kneading you firmly. The rough callouses of his palm causing delicious friction upon your nipples. He feels them peak into his hands and squeezes you tighter.
You can’t help but moan. You’ve never been touched like this at all by anyone else. It feels nothing like when you do it yourself. No, this is so much better.
He swings his left leg over you, resting on your side, his right leg presses harder onto your cunt as he leans forward. He kisses you roughly, forcing his tongue into your mouth; immediately seeking you out to fight for dominance. You feel the slick of your cunt coat your loin cloth.
He breaks the kiss to plant kisses on the underside of your jaw. Slowly he starts licking the dots there, tracing down your neck, and he sucks hard on the flesh there, catching the skin between his teeth. At the same time he pinches both your nipples between his forefinger and thumb roughly.
“Fuck!” You exclaim loudly, the pleasure in your body starting to burn. Each nerve is set alight in pleasured brilliance. You body demands more friction, so you rub your greedy clothed pussy up and down his thick muscular thigh, drenching his pants leg in your juices.
“Aww is that all for me? Well ain’t you just a peach,” Quaritch teases you when he feels the wetness upon his leg. He looks down and inspects the darkening hicky on your neck. Satisfied with his work, and continues to leave more on either side of your neck. Not content yet, he starts leaving them along your collar bone. All the while you grace him with the sing-song of your voice, openingly moaning in pleasured ecstasy at his ministrations.
You feel his hands vacate your chest, his leaves a wet trail as he traces his tongue along one swell. He gives your nipple an experimental lick causing you to make the cutest mewl. And when he takes your whole nipple into his mouth and starts sucking like a starving man, you can’t help the profanity that escapes your lips.
You push harder against his leg, enjoying the feeling of his strong muscles rub against your neglected clit. The pleasure from your cunt and tits pool together in your belly. A gentle coil of a promise starting to form. The build up stops suddenly when Quaritch moves his leg from your sacred conjunction. But before you can even complain, you watch as he moves his entire body lower until his face is between your legs.
Your embarrassment is renewed tenfold. You lay your head back and cover your face with both hands; too bashful to watch what’s about to happen. You aren’t completely ignorant, your friends made sure of that, sparing no detail of their escapades.
You obey his command, pushing yourself up on your elbows to stare down at the man poised at your nether region.
Quaritch laughs quietly at your display of embarrassment. He unties your loincloth with ease. When he takes in the sight of you, he cant help but suck in a large breath through clenched teeth. The stars painted on your cunt glow brightly in the moon light, the nectar of your arousal flows freely from your slit. A Waterfall of Eden before him.
“Now that just won’t do Sweetheart. Eyes on me, I wanna see those pretty eyes while I eat this pretty pussy.”
He nods approvingly and lowers himself once more, his eyes never break contact with you.
You inhale sharply when you feel him flatten his tongue against your slick, giving your slit one long slow lick up and over your clit.
Louder and louder you moan, there is no need to keep quiet here; there is only the two of you blanketed in soft moonlight.
He presses his hands into the groves of your hips to hold you down as he gets to work eating you out proper. Up and down he licks between your folds, sucking on your clit finally, in between. He cleans you up good, drinking deep of your honeyed nectar you so graciously give him.
He listens to every keen, mewl and moan. When the pleasure becomes too much you’re on the flat of your back once more, eyes closed in blissful ecstasy. Each hard suck on your clit pulls tight the coil in your core, the fire burning brighter with each passing moment.
And just when the tension on your belly threatens to snap in glorious orgasm, suddenly the feeling stops completely. Quaritch having ceased his ministrations.
“Delicious, thank you for the meal.”
You whimper unabashedly, tears threatening your eyes as you look down at him with a confused lidded look.
“So sorry Sweetroll, but the first time your cumming is going to be on my cock; no exceptions.”
You watch with bated breath as he undoes the belt around his waist. Eagerly does he free his throbbing cock from the confines of his pants. He’s already so fucking hard as he starts slowly pumping himself. He sees you bite your bottom lip as you drink in the sight of him. You lick your lips eagerly.
He feels himself twitch in his hand at the thought of you on your hands and knees as he throat fucks you till your insides are raw. But he’ll save that for another time. Right now the sweet musk of your cunt is beckoning him, and nothing is going to stop him answering the call.
He gathers some of your nectar to spread up and down his member, before he lines himself up with your entrance.
He looks down at you, eyes meeting yours.
“You ready baby? I don’t think I can be gentle,” you nod in response. He rubs his thick tip up and down your slick, gathering more of your nectar. When he finds our entrance, he slowly pushes in just the tip, gauging your reaction. Your eyes close as pleasure assaults every nerve of your body. You feel your cunt immediately drench, excited at the prospect of being utterly fucked full. He can’t help it, seeing your face like that, hearing you sing like that? His resolve all but shatters. In one fell fluid motion he pushes all of himself in up until the hilt, meeting no resistance.
The suddenness of him, feeling his long hard cock stuff the entirety of your pussy, you can’t help the scream that rips itself from your throat. There is a pleasure you didn’t think possible, but also a dull pain from the sudden stretch. You can feel the hairs of his crotch brush against your clit. He isn’t moving though, waiting for you to adjust to this new feeling.
“[Y/N]…Can I?” He’s trying to ask if he can move in between laboured breath. You nod almost immediately. The dull pain nothing you can’t handle.
“P-please move Quaritch,” you beg and he hums in response. You feel him lift both your legs, holding them up at the knees. He pulls out slowly till the tip, then slams back into you.
“Aaah!” You yell in pleasure at the friction gracing your inner walls. Quaritch takes in one deep breath, and he starts pumping into you with all the force he can muster. He is not gentle. He leans over your body, pushing your legs up and apart, granting easier access to your welcoming cunt.
It’s all too much, all too good. The pleasure is insurmountable. Touching yourself will never bring you pleasure like this. Each time he slams back into you, he crashes against your throbbing clit; lightning sparks through your veins, each nerve ending singing a chorus of pleasure, your body is burning in the flames of desire.
You feel the coil tightening; the build-up of orgasm approaching far quicker than you anticipated.
“Fuck—fuck you feel so good baby,” Quaritch starts praising you. Despite the size disparity, you are tight, perfect, made just for him.
You can’t answer him with words, the only sounds escaping your swollen lips are sing-song moans. It strokes his ego something deep, to see you like this; folded in half, hair framing your face like a [h/c] halo, your face dusted in deep blush. And oh, the faces you make. You can’t be this cute. It should be illegal. If this was Earth, it would be illegal.
But he’s not on Earth. And you’re not Human. Such delicate sensibilities don’t apply out here 4 light years away. Besides. Eywa presented you before him oh so generously, and it would just be impolite to refuse such a gift.
“Q-Quaritch—I’m—” You can’t seem to get the words out, your orgasm approaching without mercy. He knows it though. The squeezes of your drenched cunt warning him. But he’s not ready for you to cum yet. He’s got one more little thing he wants to do.
“Don’t you dare cum [Y/N], you hear me? That’s an order,” he doesn’t relent his pace, the bastard. You close your eyes tight, trying through sheer force of will not to cum.
“Y-yes Sir,” he all but growls the moment you call him that, and you can’t help but smile cheekily. You feel his pace slow to deliberate thrusts. He doesn’t say anything but you feel his hands remove themselves from your legs and hear him fidget with something. You open your eyes in time to see him brandishing his belt in hand.
“Now hold still darling,” he instructs as he, without question, ties the belt around your neck, wrapping the leather around his left hand in tight coils.
“Do you trust me?” he asks as he smirks down at you. Your hand traces the belt around your neck, and your eyes meet his. You stare deep into those blue pools; he is brimming with lust, desire, and something so much deeper. You can’t explain it, but you trust this man with every fibre of your being.
“Yes…I trust you,” You give him the sweetest smile you can muster, and hold your left hand. He threads the fingers of his right hand through yours.
He picks up his pace, returning once again to that brutal pace before. He thrusts and hard as he can, pounding into your cunt with all the strength he has.
“Yesyesyesyes!” You chant eagerly, feeling your orgasm build up for the third time. Without warning, Quaritch pulls on the belt. It tightens around your neck, cutting off your oxygen.
Your eyes widen in sudden panick, reasling you can barely draw in any air. And that feeling, the leather as it bites into the skin of your neck, the tightness in your chest at the lack of air, it is delicious. Your cunt squeezes unabashedly around Quaritch and he huffs with a smirk.
He lets go of your hand then, you bring it up to your throat, grabbing the belt to try and relieve some of the tension.
“No you fucking don’t—!” Quaritch pulls tighter, and with his now free hand, grabs a hold of your tail—and pulls.
Your shut your eyes at the pleasure, tears falling freely down your face. Drool seeps from the corner of your mouth hanging open. No sound escapes your parted lips.
“Such a good girl, you take my cock so well [Y/N]! No one will ever fuck you like I do! Don’t you ever forget that, you God damn hear me?”
You are unable to form any words, the only sound you can muster is a strained moan. Good enough for him.
“That’s it baby—FUCK—Take it all of me like the slut that you are. Throwing yourself at those boys, knowing full well you belong to ME!”
That does it.
The coil in your belly snaps violently, your pussy grabbing his cock in a tight vice as your orgasm wracks your body in glorious ecstasy. You ride the high for all you’re worth. The only sound your able to make is a quiet choke as you struggle to breath, eyes rolling back into your head.
Black spots appear along your vision from the lack of air. But you don’t care, your cunt is still cumming and hard, gushing relentlessly, bathing Quaritch in your heavenly nectar.
You feel his thrusts falter as you continue to squeeze him without mercy. And after a few final pumps, he cums with a load growl. He’s coating your slick walls in his hot seed. He pumps a few more times into you weakly, his hold on the be belt slackens, rewarding you with glorious air once more. You gasp greedily, taking in long slow breathes.
You lay there for a time. Drenched in all manner of bodily fluids. The smell of sex permeates your senses, and you blush, embarrassed suddenly by the activities. You feel Quaritch slowly pull his softened cock from you, the feeling of his cum slowly seeping from your slit giving you a dull pleasure.
Your hole feels utterly abused, but the pain throbs pleasurably, you find you don’t mind the feeling. You feel Quaritch untie and remove the belt from your neck. He hums approvingly at the bruise left in its wake and plants a kiss to your sensitive skin.
He moves up over your jaw to your lips, planting soft kisses along the way.
He kisses you deeply, you can taste yourself on his lips and it almost reignites the fire within you.
When he finally pulls away from the kiss, he’s staring down at you. There is something unreadable in his expression. He opens his mouth to speak. But when you blink, he’s gone.
The room is gone.
Instead, your eyes are greeted with the blinding light of morning; your senses suddenly assaulted with the burgeoning life of the day.
You sit up and immediately notice your clit is sensitive. You smile to yourself; your body must have cum while you dreamt. You stand and stretch, feeling utterly refreshed. You feel a bit bad leaving so suddenly, but that was out of your control. You’ll be sure to apologise in the next Dream.
You call for your ikran, and make the short journey back home. You are trying very hard to remember to wipe the stupid grin from your face. You make your way back to the family nest in the trees, grabbing the extra garments you hid near where you leave your ikran.
Everyone in your family is awake already. You can hear the sound of idle chatter and the smell of breakfast hits your nose. Good, you are practically starving. You don’t bother trying to be quiet as you make your way up. Just as you pull yourself up and onto the platform, it is your brother Lo’ak who addresses you first.
“Ahhh look who finally decided….to…” his voice trails off when he looks up to you.
“What the—WHAT HAPPENED TO YOUR NECK?!” Kiri yells as she immediately stands up and rushes over to you, cold hands immediately on you, turning you this way and that.
Your neck?
Oh.
OH!
Oh no…
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Author's Note: Thanks for reading!!! Hope it was to your liking! Apologies for any mistakes. It's 1am and I have working in the morning lmao TwT
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| 1 | <next chapter>
word count: 1529
Pairing: Ao'nung x Omatikayan! Sully! Female! Na'vi Reader Tags: fluff, romance, cute, silly, oneshot Author's note: A quick oneshot dedicated to @royallaufeyson! Saw their post asking for this pairing fluff and thought I'd give it a go. Hopefully it's too your liking :)
Ao’nung considers himself many great things; strong, skilled hunter, a remarkable swimmer. But jealous? No, never. Why would he be jealous? And of that stupid ikran? Perish the thought. What’s there to be jealous about really? Nothing, that’s what!
Yet here he finds you, his darling Omatikayan future mate, tending to your ikran, instead of meeting up with him like you were supposed to an hour ago.
You don’t even hear his approach, and that in itself stirs an uncomfortable feeling in his gut. You have your back to him, standing before your own ikran. You’re rubbing his neck and humming soothing words as he rests his head on your shoulder. Naturally, the accursed beast is the first to spot his approach.
Suddenly his head is off your shoulders and he hisses with a faux threat, his attention behind you.
“Hoan?” You look up at your ikran, confused by his sudden change in attitude. Noticing his gaze is fixated on something behind you, angry at something intruding on your alone time, you turn around to see what the fuss is about.
A wide grin splits your face, recognizing the would-be intruder as your beloved future mate.
“Ao’nung!” His name slips through your lips like siren song, turning your whole lithe form to him and jog to meet his approach halfway. No matter how many times he sees you, once again is he left awestruck by your visage. As you run to him, those untamed locks flowing freely behind you, your form is caught in the last rays of sunlight before eclipse; a golden luster leaving kisses upon your skin.
And he melts. Ready is he to prostrate himself before such beauty. He catches you in his strong arms with little effort, you are so light and lithe coming from the forest.
Your arms instinctually wrap around his neck and you kiss him without hesitation. A short quick peck and you pull away to look down into his eyes, pale blue meeting gold.
“Hi,” you say and he returns your smile as he places you on your feet once more. You don’t untangle your arms around his neck. His hands are on hips, holding you close.
“Hi yourself,” he says cheekily, placing a small kiss on your forehead. “Oel ngati kameie.”
“Oel ngati kameie,” you say back with a smile.
Hoan makes an annoyed huff behind you, clacking his jaw a few times. You turn to look at him, ears perked up.
“Hoan, what’s gotten into you recently?” Your attention is immediately pulled to your ikran, instantly removing your arms from Ao’nung’s neck as you make your way back to the creature in question. You don’t see the slight frown that forms on your beloved’s face as he watches you walk away. But your hand catches his, and without looking back, you pull him along with you. A roll of the eyes, ‘of course this thing needs you right this very moment’ he laments to himself.
“Sweet boy, what’s got you huffing and chuffing?” As you ask this you let go of Ao’nung’s, placing both hands on either side of Hoan’s face. “Are you still hungry?” you look to the side and see the fish portions remain untouched.
“Hmm…He must grow tired of the same meal. Poor thing must miss yerik and talioang meat.” You lament as you rub his neck soothingly. He makes a light trilling noise as you do. “Maybe you prefer some soft-shell meat, yes? I think I saw some in a pool nearby. Ao’nung, can you keep an eye on him? I’ll be right back!”
“Well I—” and before he can even protest, you’ve sprinted off, his arm outstretched to your retreating form. After a beat he drops his arm back to his side and sighs deeply. An awkward silence permeates the air. He can feel Hoan staring at the back of his head. Probably plotting his demise. He turns then, fixing a scowl at the creature, though mindful not to make direct eye contact.
“There’s probably nothing wrong with you, is there?” he asks, as if the beast would understand him perfectly. Hoan blinks, tilting his head from side to side as if confused, cawing at him.
“Oh don’t you play innocent with me. You kept her here on purpose didn’t you? Think you’re real smart hogging all her attention.”
Hoan doesn’t give away any indication he understood anything directed at him. Instead he busies himself cleaning the inner parts of his wing; utterly ignoring Ao’nung it seems.
The boy in question shakes his head and rolls his eyes. Turning around to once again face the direction you went.
“Skxáwng ikran…” he mutters to himself.
SMACK!
His hand flies to the back of his head, something having hit him. He turns around and looks down, finding a portion of sand and drool covered fish at his heals. He frowns and looks up Hoan, the offending creature has his head buried in his other wing.
Ao’nung eyes him up and down, taking a few steps back before turning around once more. Where the heck were you?
SMACK!
“Hey!” He turns around angrily and again he finds fish at his heels while Hoan is preening himself; the picture of innocence. “You better stop that or else!” A fool Ao’nung is then, to turn his back once more, because as soon as he does—
SMACK!
This time when he turns around, Hoan is instead looking right at him. The offending creature honks at him rhythmically, and to the annoyed Ao’nung, that almost sounds a damn laugh. Without a second thought, he picks up the nearest piece of fish and lobs it at Hoan’s head. He hits him square in the face, the fish leaving a sandy red kiss to his temple.
Were it possible, Ao’nung thinks the face Hoan’s giving him right now would be that of the utter most offence anyone has ever taken in the history of the forever. He picks up another piece and throws it Ao’nung, hitting him in the chest and leaving the same gross smelly mark.
“So you have chosen war.” Ao’nung states, a war cry leaves his lips and he grabs the pieces near him into his arms, throwing them at Hoan.
The ikran responses immediately, a loud hiss and raw at Ao’nung, this time he grabs as many pieces in his mouth as he can, throwing them haphazardly at his opponent, some missing him completely.
The two of them go at it for a while, the pieces becoming nearly unrecognizable as time passes. All the while, Ao’nung laughs, what a silly thing he finds himself doing, having a, fish war, with your ikran. The beast itself making all manner of caws, bellows, yips, snarls and chirps.
So engrossed are the two of them that they naturally do not here your approach until it is too late.
“By the Great Mother, what is going on here???”
Immediately they both stop, dead still are they, like two naughty children being caught red handed. They turn to you then, you standing off to the side, a small basket balanced on your hips, filled with various molluscs.
Ao’nung drops the pieces he’s holding, straightening up and clearing his throat.
“Well you see, [Y/N], we were just—” another piece hits him in the side of the head. He turns and frowns at Hoan, who has his head facing the other way, turned to the sky as if the most interesting thing he’s ever seen is there right now.
“Pffft….Pffthahahahaha!” A melodious laugh bursts forth from you, and Ao’nung turns to you alarmed; a light blue dust paints itself up his neck and across his cheeks. “The two of you are ridiculous! Look at you! Covered in sand and fish blood.” You shake your head, smile never wavering. You set the basket beside Hoan, knowing you wouldn’t have to shuck the creatures yourself. It will be good for him to use his wing claws to pry them open.
“Silly boy, Hoan!” You tease and make tsaheylu. “Make sure you wash yourself thoroughly before you return to the others. Else Bob will never let you forget,” you say out loud for Ao’nung’s benefit before disconnecting and approaching said boy.
He huffs at you and turns away.
There is a cheeky smile on your face as you look up at him, arms behind your back.
“So…”
“So…?”
“Having fun without me?”
“Don’t know what you’re talking about honestly.”
You shake your head at his antics and grab his hand.
“Come, let’s get you cleaned up in the heated pools,” you say and walk off, pulling him behind you by your joint hands.
You turn to look at him behind you, not slowing your pace as you do.
“And Ao’nung?”
“Yes?”
“Jealousy? You wear it well yawne,” you tease him, letting the word roll of your tongue, dripping in liquid gold. You can’t help but giggle when you see the shocked look on his face, the darkening of his skin renewed tenfold. He turns his face elsewhere.
“Sh—shut up…”
You laugh once again facing forward and squeeze his hand.
He smiles contently, and gently squeezes back.
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Oel ngati kameie - I see you
yerik - the hexapede
talioang - the sturmbeest
skxáwng - stupid/moron/idiot
yawne - my love
We post dirty fanfic here Sir. My inbox is always open :)
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