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tiredmamaissy · 2 years ago

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SU I LIVE FOR YOUR FUCKEN COMMENTARY LIKE??????? Girl. You are supercalifragilisticexpialidociously too sweet. Thank you so much I literally love you so much that it hurts. I’m so happy we’re friends istg AND THE POISON PART HAD ME DYING WITH LAUGHTER LOOOOL. cus it’s so fucken true this man just got us drunk so we’d leave him alone I’m so fuckin dead ☠️ but yes do not worry we are going to be fucked next chap I swear. Like I’ll make it nice and spicy just for you my love

Ralak te Sepawn ieyk’itan: Chapter Four

An Illustrated Collaboration with @zestys-stuff

Masterlist ; Rut/Heat/Knotting Info

🔞 minors, do not interact 🔞

Hyperlinks are attached to specific paragraphs that when clicked on will lead you to its illustration by Ralak's creator @zestys-stuff.

Characters: Metkayina!Ralak (24) x Sully!Omaticaya!Reader (19)

Warnings: nsfw, smut, fluff, angst, profanity, age gap, sexual tension, size difference/kink, praise kink, fingering, alcohol consumption/drunk character, mating, oral sex (both receiving), p in v, virginity loss, blood, marking/biting, let me know if i forgot anything?

Word Count: 15k (i think, i dont even know at this point)

Requested: Yes || No

Author’s Note: Guys, I'm so sorry this one took so long. I hope it's worth the wait. I tried to proofread this but the app keeps crashing and I lost my progress thrice. So forgive me for any typos and errors. I'll probably go through it with fresh eyes tomorrow and fix them. Enjoy 🤍🤍

Synopsis: Your family seeks uturu with the Metkayina in the village of Awa’atlu. You have a difficult time adjusting, and are assigned your own special teacher, Ralak.

<;- Previous Next ->

“Not today, tahni. I must get you back, now.”

----

You protest, not wanting to go back to the prison with your less-than-understanding father and his two soldiers keeping an eye on your every move. You try to convince Ralak to have a conversation with your father, but he insists that won’t do anything. Jake is a man of action, and he would need to prove himself to Toruk Makto – prove that he is worthy of mating with his daughter.

To do things ‘the right way’.

All it took for you to behave was him grabbing your hand, pressing it against his warm, half-hard cock while he looks dead in your eye. “Tame Tsurak. And this is yours to do whatever you please with.”

“Oh?” Your lips pucker as you husk the word, brow raising in astonishment.

Of course, Ralak would turn this into a lesson of some sort, saying something along the lines of you being a fast learner and would only need a day to learn. It was laughable really – him saying that you need a week to learn the sign language of his people but less than a day to tame a skimwing.

He clicks for his swimwing, watching as it glides quickly through the water towards him. He takes a few steps back, making space for the large creature to come to a standstill. Ralak approaches it cautiously and respectfully, hand reaching behind him to grip and stroke the length of his kuru.

You’re only now just getting a good look at his kuru, it’s much longer than yours given the stature of this man, but his tendrils are a deep pink, very composed and calm, much like Ralak himself. They dance slowly, sporadic movements gaining direction once they sense the kuru of the Tsurak in proximity.

“Bond carefully. Tsurak are not like ilu.” Ralak says, pupils constricting momentarily as the tendrils slowly entwine with one another, making tsaheylu with the scaley, large beast. It shivers vigorously as their breaths synchronize, two beasts becoming one. Ralak takes a sharp breath before swinging his leg over the creature, settling himself graciously on its back. “They deem if the rider is worthy.”

“Oh. I see...” You nod slowly, nerves fraying from the thought of not being worthy enough to tame one.

Ralak motions you to mount the Tsruak, patting it’s back behind him. “Come.” He holds your hand, helping you on before wrapping your arms around his waist. “Hold tight.”

With that, you’re off. The beast glides easily, and slowly through the water, never going underneath. Ralak spends the ride teaching you about the techniques to apply when bonding, mounting, and riding a skimwing. Even how to hold the harness properly, so you’re not pulled off by a water drag.

“Most important. When you dive back in, maintain a good position.” He rambles, demonstrating the diving movement with his hand, fingers pointing downwards.

You listen, but you’re focus is primarily on the way his waist feels in your arms. You savour the sensation, feelings of self-doubt making you think that this may be the last time you’ll touch Ralak in this way. You rest your face into the dip of his back, ear pressed into his skin as you listen to the thump of his heart.

The words echo in your head. “...to do whatever you please with.”

You could do this. You can do this. You’ll do it for him. For your mate.

Ralak slows to a halt a far distance away from your family marui pod, exchanging glares with your two older brothers. Though they were younger than Ralak, he still treats them as equals, respectfully signing ‘I see you’ to them both. Reluctantly, they return the gesture, maintaining their downward glare to the giant. Neteyam stands tall, chest puffed out to appear bigger, whilst Lo’ak’s arms are crossed over his chest, shifting his bodyweight from one leg to the other.

You scoff. Two idiots doing their idiot thing.

“We will meet again, my love.” You whisper, planting a kiss on his back before dismounting the creature to swim around to the mangrove roots.

“My tanhi.” He hums lowly, watching you swim away and climb up the root to the backside of the marui pod. He turns around, diving under the water to leave before your father’s arrival. Your brothers help you up, pushing you inside the pod by a hand on your back.

“You smell even worse.” Neteyam makes the snarky remark whilst grimacing, turning his head away from you.

“Yeah. He’s not joking, sis.” Lo’ak adds with a chuckle, leaning in to get a better whiff. He pulls back dramatically, letting out a loud ‘whoof’ as he turns his head away too.

“Ha-Ha.” You say, imitating the sound of a laugh. “Thanks guys.” You mutter sarcastically, although you really did owe them.

The sound of your father flipping back the flap of the marui averts your attention to the door. All three of you stand in formation, acknowledging the former marine’s presence. He walks past you, lips pursing into a thin line once your scent wafts past him.

“Jeez, y/n. Ya need to take a bath or something. Preferably before tomorrow ��cause that’s when training with Tsireya starts.” He shifts his glare to his sons, patting them both on the back as he praises them for doing a good job watching you. Another scoff bubbles up your throat, prompting you to roll your eyes and find refuge behind your privacy curtain.

----

Swish. The sound of your privacy curtain being yanked aside, allowing slivers of the first rays of sunlight to shine against your cheek.

“Get up, kid. Time for your lesson with Tsireya.” Jake’s voice beats against your eardrums.

Are you fucking kidding me?

Never have you had a lesson this early. Nor have you had someone wake you up for one. And how many times did you have to speak to your father about privacy? That’s why you sat down for a week straight making these curtains. And by the way everyone keeps yanking and tugging at it, you’ll have to make another sooner than planned. You lift your head groggily, rubbing your right eye with the ball of your palm. Groans of irritation rumble up your throat as you roll over onto your side to ignore your father.

“Hey. Don’t make me come over there.” He jesters, hoping to lighten the mood.

It only makes things worse. How could he joke after locking you away and having his two watchdogs guard over you? He’s taking away the one good thing for you in this wet-land and thinks a joke will make things better?

“Leave. I’ll come out soon.” You mumble into your pillow.

Jakes brows lower in defiance for a moment, and relax when he realises that you’re just hurting. Regardless, this is what he thinks is best for you. You were still his ‘babygirl’. He takes a few steps back before turning around to walk out of the marui. Once you hear his footsteps die out, you rise from your cot and get ready for the day.

----

“Wow, y/n. You have improved so much since I last taught you!” Tsireya exclaims, surprised by your skilful movements.

“Yeah. Ralak was a good teacher.” You smile, tugging the fishnet towards you. Your lips flatten into a line when you realise how that sounds. “Not saying that you weren’t or anything.” You add quickly, staring wide eyed at Tsireya.

“It is okay.” She giggles, two dainty fingers covering her lips.

“Yeah. There’s just something about him. He’s… different.” You smile once more, slowly wrapping the fishnet around on itself, “A good different!”

“I know Ralak, y/n. He is... like a brother to me. Although we don’t talk very much...” Tsireya says, swimming towards the spears on the shore. “I am surprised you two got along for this long.”

Your brows twitch. Brother? What did she mean by that? What does she think even happened?

“I’m going to mate with him.” You blurt out, earning an astonished expression from Tsireya. “When I pass my iknimaya, of course.” You say, knowing that’s not what she’s concerned about.

“You two got along that well?” She questions, reaching for the spears.

“You could say that we confessed to each other in the heat of the moment” You mumble as you work your way to sit on the shore.

“So, why am I teaching you?” Her movements come to halt, inquisitive gaze flicking down at you.

“Dad found out. He is forbidding me from seeing him because I haven’t passed my iknimaya yet.” You twirl a strand of wet loose hair around your pointer finger, “He didn’t even care to ask about the situation. Or if I even need lessons anymore.” You shake your head, watching the hair unravel from your finger.

“I see. I think you two would be good for each other.” She shrugs, staring at the spears for a moment before throwing them back into the sand. She looks at you and smiles, “Has he taught you about our dances?”

Gaze snapping up to hers, a smile stretches your lips as your brows raise in fascination. “Dances?”

Tsireya offers her hand, and you take it, letting her help you up. “Mhm. Our way of dancing. It is very... sensual. It is said that eywa speaks through the soundwaves of the music.” She walks you over to a clearing near the shore.

Apparently, the musical instruments are sacred, some parts of it harvested from the spirit tree. And when they are played, the way of Eywa can be felt by those that listen, expressed in bodily movement – dancing. It’s movements manifest erotically, acting as a mating ritual.

It draws in the fated or desired mates of those that partake in the ritual, driving them to find one another and dance together.

“Teach me.”

----

The days go by slowly as Tsireya shows you the sinuous movements of the Metkayina. She explains that it is much like the way of water, gliding and flowing freely with the music. One must allow the music to flow through the body in waves, to slip into a trance like state for your body to sway with the rhythm.

It takes you about a week to learn all the movements. It posed to be an even more difficult task without the music, and just Tsireya’s humming. Of course, this music is only only played on the night of an iknimaya celebration.

Tomorrow is your iknimaya, and Tsireya decides it’s best to run through a few pointers on taming a tsurak. Taming one is not something you practice doing, not like an ilu. You attempt it, and if denied, it is because you have much more to learn. You may try again after further training.

“Your grip is the most important thing. Once it loosens, it is ove –”

“Girls.” The olo’eyktan’s voice booms above you, averting your attention to the three casted shadows on the shore. Your eyes trail up the silhouettes to see Tonowari, your father, and... Ralak. Your heartbeat quickens, body heating up from sensing its desired mate in proximity. You try to play it off, looking down at your knees buried in the sand.

“Father.” Tsireya shuffles to her feet, signing ‘I see you’ to the three men, acknowledging their presence.

You follow slowly after her, eyes now locked onto your feet. “I see you.” You gesture, finally lifting your gaze up to the three men.

Ralak’s brows twitch as his cold eyes trail up your body, doing their best mask his excitement from seeing you. You look beautiful – dressed in clothing native to his people, pearls embellishing your top and a string of shells sewn to the band of your tewng [loincloth]. Braided hair with bright red flowers twisted into it, his chest tightens from seeing you like this.

This is the first time you’ve seen him in a week. He looks... dishevelled. Nothing like he usually looks. Hollow eyes, body enveloped with bruises and scabbed over wounds, you can sense the fracture in his spirit. He looks so, so worn. A heated wrath simmers your blood, making you red in the face.

What have they done to you, my love? You ask him through concerned eyes, breaking your stare to seethe at Tonowari.

Jake could see the upset on your face, lips pursing into a thin line as he squints his eyes, telling you to drop the attitude. But you were vexed with him too. Did he really think you’d be an obedient little soldier? You scoff at the thought, rolling your eyes to land them back onto Ralak, who is also giving you a look.

Now that’s different.

All it takes is a quick raise of his brows and a slight shake of his head to quell your attitude. You huff a small sigh of defeat and drop your irate stare to your feet once more, holding your tongue. You wanted nothing more than to lash out at Tonowari, despite him being the olo’eytan. But you understand that this would only make matters worse.

Jake witnesses this, feeling a little embarrassed about your blatant disregard for his order and not Ralak’s. But he can’t ignore the smidge of respect he’s feeling towards him right now. To be able to handle your rebellious attitude with a simple shake of his head is impressive.

“Iknimaya is tomorrow.” Tonowari speaks, eyes drifting towards the discarded spears.

He’s clearly speaking to you, but you’re too caught up in your own head to even hear him.

“Yes, father. I am confident that she is ready.” Tsireya answers quickly, using her tail to nudge the back of your leg.

“Yes – yes sir. Your daughter taught me well.” You say a little too composed, avoiding eye contact all together.

“Good. We will be on our way then.” Tonowari nods, turning his heel to leave.

Jake follows behind him, throwing one last glare in your direction, whilst Ralak lingers for a second or two. He does one last scan of your body, before locking eyes with you. A soft smile pulls at his lips as he slowly retreats.

It’s like all the negativity bubbling in your being washes away in an instant, leaving you standing there with a dumb smile on your face. He spins around, walking nonchalantly behind the two olo’eyktans, arms tucked behind his back.

“Did he just – smile?” Tsireya asks, a little dumbfounded.

“Mhm.” You hum, smile only growing wider.

----

That night you walked home beaming, smile plastered on your face with your ears flickering wildly. It had been so long since you’d last seen him that it was so uplifting to see that sweet, sweet smile again. You haven’t felt this happy since Jake separated you two, and honestly you couldn’t bring yourself to go home and see him.

Despite your strict curfew, you find yourself alone sitting in the wet sand, watching the sun set, bright hues of red and orange lighting up the sky. You bring your knees to your chest and rest your cheek between them, thinking about tomorrow.

What if I can’t do it? You sigh, feelings of self-doubt crashing in like the waves at your feet.

“Y/n.” Jake’s voice booms behind you.

Of-fucking-course you’re going to come find me.

“What?” You mumble into your knees.

Jake’s purses his lips before letting out a small sigh, shoulders relaxing as he seats himself beside you. “Feelin’ ready for tomorrow? Not nervous, are ya?”

“Ha. Yeah. I had the best teacher in Awa’atlu.”

“Babygirl.” His voice softens as he tries to look you directly in the face. The fact that it’s been over a week, and you’re still upset tells him that he’s really hurt you.

“Not your baby anymore.” You mutter under your breath, turning your head to look the other way.

“Yes, you are... ‘nd you always will be. Even when you have your own.” He speaks gently, resting his hand on your upper back.

You shrug him off, causing his hand to retreat entirely. He reflects for a moment, on how his actions have made you feel. Has he been too harsh on you? Was the ‘tough love’ act too much? The rift that’s he’s driven between the two of you is just too thick and he must remedy it.

“Look. I’m – I’m just tryna look out for you.”

“Excuse me?” You lift your head up and look at him with an expression of disbelief. "Look out for me? Or coddle me? Cut the shit, dad. I know you’re trying to keep me from him.”

"Language!" Jake hisses, “And I am looking out for you, whether you wanna believe it or not.”

“So what? How far are you gonna go to keep me from him? Gonna make us move again? Fresh start, somewhere else?”

Jakes voice is low now, a dangerous growl as he grows frustrated with your venomous words. “Everything I do is to protect you kids. Your safety is everything to me, y/n. I just want what’s best for you.”

"Ralak is what is best for me. He's good to me. Patient with me." You croak, lump forming in your throat. "And - I love him, dad."

Jake quickly stands, letting out a scoff. "No. You don't. You barely know the guy!”

"I do. I know him more than anybody. He's a gentleman–”

“Y/n” He starts, “We’ve only been here for a few months. He’s your teacher. There’s plenty of fish in the sea. Why are you settling for the first one you meet?”

“Dad, just – stop! He’s a good person. And when I tame tsurak tomorrow... I will choose him.” Your voice fades away as you utter the last four words, heated tears rolling down your cheeks.

“Yeah. If you tame it. I didn’t even tame it myself the first try. You really think you can?” Jake spits, growing frustrated with your defiant attitude.

Ouch. You didn’t even have the words to respond to that. Your own father taking a jab at your competency, knowing it’s one of your biggest insecurities. And to instil is own personal doubt into you is on another level of petty.

And just like that, the rift grows wider.

Your bottom lip quivers, revealing the small dimples in your chin. You stare up at him glossy eyed, tears welling up so much you could almost see the way it makes your eyes glisten. His gaze softens, as if he were just hit square in the jaw with words he just uttered to you.

“Y/n, I’m s –”

You shake your head in disbelief, brows gathering so tightly it hurt. You walk past him, shoving him with your shoulder as you make your way towards your marui. You can hear him calling after you, hollering whatever things first popped up in his head that could possibly make it right.

“Babygirl, please! You know I didn’t mean it like that. Just try to see where I’m coming from!”

But you ignore him and keep it going. Slumping into your bed, you lay your head on your pillow and close your swollen, wet eyes in hopes to get some rest for your big day tomorrow. The day that would change it all.

The day of your iknimaya.

----

It wasn’t only your iknimaya today.

Much like when you tamed your ikran, you stand in a line of other younger na’vi, who have been waiting patiently for their chance to prove themselves. Eager and excited to earn their place in the clan and mate with another.

They all speak amongst themselves, whispering harshly and huddling together to hear one another. They’re discussing pointers, reviewing techniques, and sharing tips they’ve learned from the more experienced warriors. It’s a bit annoying, in all honestly. They all seemed to have a completely different motive from you. An intrinsic one.

Whereas your motivation is standing in waist deep in the water, effortlessly holding the thrashing, winged beast in place. His hands grip the harness tightly, whilst Tonowari and another warrior secures the mid and hind section of the skimwing.

You watch as the other young na’vi attempt to tame the tsurak before you. Some pass, some fail, tsurak swimming with such force that it leaves the rider disoriented. Some even begged for another chance, while others accepted their defeat with a tail between their legs.

It makes you nervous. And the more you stand and stare at the thick skinned creature, the more is registers how big it actually is. It’s enormous – the length of six na’vi. Yet Ralak holds it down firmly, arms growing veiny from the sheer grip he has on it. It writhes beneath him, prompting him to restrain the beast even further.

You’d never seen Ralak ‘in action’ before. To you, he’s this big, soft giant, patiently tolerating your less than composed attitude. A man with simple goals, and simple desires. Not this strong, war machine he has been turned into. But you can’t ignore how seeing him like this makes you feel.

A strong and competent man.

But the more the creature thrashes around in his grip, the more your shot nerves fray. Just as you feel the nerves creep their way up into your chest, tightening it with no mercy, Ralak locks eyes with you. A stoic expression, with eyes that said so much. Ocean blue eyes, telling you ‘I’m right here. You can do it. Do it for me. For my big coc-’.

“You got this, kid. I mean – y/n.” Jake’s sudden voice interrupts your... train of thought.

If you hadn’t just been eye-fucking the man he’s keeping you away from you would’ve probably warmed up to his... attempt to make things right.

You let out a loud scoff and roll your eyes before diving into the water. Your fingers pierce the surface of the water, slender body moving through the water quickly and making the lap in one breath.

Turning your head, you quickly realise why they had you so far up in the mangroves. It was a test. A breath test. But what confirmed your suspicion is the look at your fathers’ face. An expression of surprise – shocked to see you even swim much less hold your breath for the entire lap.

Did he really have that little faith in you? You shake your head in disbelief, landing your stare on the spectators – the olo’eyktans’ family and other superior hunters and warriors. All of which stood high up in the mangroves, observing your every move.

How intimidating.

You exhale slowly, hoping to steady your galloping heart, but your efforts are to no avail. It feels as if its leaping from your chest the more you near the writhing, restless beast. And the closer you get, the louder its low, deep rumbling grows.

You’re about chest-deep in the water now, bouncing on the tips of toes as you inch closer and get a better look. You scan its entire body, starting at the white caudal fin, up to its furled wings and long snout – which houses at least a hundred jutting-out, needlelike teeth. Overall, its menacing demeanour makes your stomach sink.

Shit. Can I really do this? You think, shaky hand reaching behind you for your kuru as you continue to study the beast’s tough exterior.

“Y/n.” Tonowari saying your name snaps your eyes up to him smiling down at you. “Make the bond.” He gestures over to Ralak, who’s holding tsurak’s kuru in one hand, and the harness in the other.

He can tell from your body language and the glint in your eye that you’re nervous and having doubts. It’s the way you gnaw at your bottom lip, just like you did whenever you were getting frustrated during your lessons.

You settle yourself beside him, feeling his warmth radiate off his body onto yours. It’s been so long since you’ve been this close to each other. You’re not even touching, yet it feels so good. So right. You allow yourself to sway with the current of the water so that your shoulder brushes against his arm, sending your freckles flickering in broad daylight.

His chin remains tucked into his chest, arm extended towards you with the beasts’ kuru in hand. “Remember what I said.” He mutters under his breath, low enough for only you to hear.

You glance up at him briefly, trying your best to recall what he’s said to you about tsuraks. Your brows pinch in ponder as your pink tendrils dance wildly when they near the creature’s kuru. Was it something about the bond? Or was it how to grip the harness?

Ralak leans in, pretending to bring the kuru closer to your short stature. “yours to do whatever you please with.”

Oh. That.

You recall when he pressed your hand against his half-hard cock and told you it was all yours if you tamed tsurak. Just thinking about how warm it felt in your hand ebbs away the fear you’ve harboured in your chest, replacing it with a new feeling of determination.

Trying to withhold the smile creeping up on your face, you watch as your tendrils intertwine with the tsuraks’, kurus bonding together with a quick pull. A shiver runs through the creature as it snarls and growls, and your pupils dilate and constrict, breath hiccupping as you sync together.

You can feel it’s strength – it’s prowess. The way it breathes under and out of water. The way its left wing is injured from the na’vi that kicked it when tumbling off. The frustration brewing in its stomach. The exhaustion he’s feeling.

Instinctually, your hand caresses the length of his slippery snout, razor sharp teeth grazing your darker blue skin. “tam tam, tam tam [calm; there there]” You coo quietly, sliding your hand up his snout to grip the harness tightly. To your surprise, he settles immediately, sensing your empathy towards his state.

A sense of mutual respect.

Taking this as your signal to mount him, you hoist yourself up onto his back, being extra careful not to touch his wing. You find yourself struggling, being so far out at this height was only another obstacle in your way. Without warning the tsurak sinks into the water, lowering itself for you to haul your leg over its back.

“Irayo [thank you].” You whisper through a smile, settling yourself comfortably on the woven saddle.

Finally lifting your head up, you’re met with the stare of two surprised men, and one proud man. Ralak has this smug look on his face, like he knew all along that you would be able to make the bond in this way. And that – that’s just what you needed.

The three men let go of the beast, backing away with their hands in the air, allowing you space to ride. You tighten your grip one last time – something you recall being the most important thing, and think, go.

The tsurak takes off at full speed, caudal fin swishing from side to side, providing thrust to propel you forward. The sheer force of his jerky movements has your grip loosening already, audible swoosh of his tail growing louder the more wobble side to side.

Easy. Easy.

He steadies instantly, providing you with enough time to tighten your grip and position yourself properly on his back. You’re mindful of his injured wing, grounding the heel of your non-dominant foot beside his good wing. With your other leg, you settle your knee into his back, finding balance in your own body.

The shimmying comes to a halt, leaving you gliding effortlessly through the water, swoosh of his tail steady and low. You pull up, prompting his wings to splay out, revealing their vibrant red and orange colours. Soon the whoosh of his flapping wings drowns out the noise of his caudal fin propelling you upwards and out the water.

“There you go.” You think out loud, steadying yourself mid-air.

It’s an exhilarating feeling. The cool wind in your face and the way the sun rays heat up your skin. It almost feels like your ikran. A big smile spreads across your lips as you give his gill a gentle, reassuring tap. That’s when you feel the dull ache in your left shoulder worsen.

“Tam, tam. [there, there]” You repeat, recognizing his pain. That’s your cue to prepare yourself for the hardest part – the dive. This is the part which typically ends with the force of such a plunge knocking the na’vi off it’s back. The true test.

With a quick, deep breath, you tighten your grip around the harness one last time and dive onto your stomach, hugging his lower back with your knees. You tuck your chin to your chest and brace yourself for impact. The tsurak tucks his wings flush to his sides and plunges in, long snout piercing the water’s surface with ease.

The force of the plunge is indescribable. It’s almost like the feeling you get when you plummet down the hallelujah mountains on your ikran. But more intense. The water adds extra resistance, knocking you back to the point of your knuckles almost dislocating.

Despite that, your grip remains strong as you hurtle through the water, tilting to the side to avoid the reef. The slight sting of your lungs act as your cue to make a sharp turn and head back. You ascend slowly as you dart through the water, resurfacing completely before the three men.

You let out the breath you’ve been holding with an audible haa as you bring the beast to a halt. You wipe the water from your face and try to catch your breath, looking up to see Ralak with one of the biggest smiles on his face – the first of its kind. And you couldn’t quite tell if the shock plastered on the other mens’ faces are for you or for him.

You return the smile as you gently pull away your kuru from the tsuraks’ and dismount him. “He is weary. And injured. Left wing.” You pant, meeting eyes with the giant beaming with pride. “Let him rest, Lak.”

“Ah.” He chuckles breathily, using his tail to caress the back of your leg. “I will be sure to do that, my Tsurak Makto.”

Cheeks heating up to a dangerous degree, you avert your gaze elsewhere, only for it to land on the Olo’eyktan himself. He, too, is smiling wide, moving towards you with an extended arm. You link arms, slender fingers wrapping around his strake.

“You are Metkayina now, y/n. Soleia [congrats; you did it]” Tonowari declares.

“Thank you, sir. And your daughter –”

“While I am sure she has taught you well, Ralak is the one to thank here.” He rests a firm hand on Ralak’s shoulder.

You look over into the mangroves and see your father with his arms crossed over his chest, nodding and smiling. He’s impressed, to say the least. But not only with you and the way you absolutely mastered the taming of the skimwing, but also with Ralak – who is clearly to thank for that.

----

With night being only a blink away, things move quickly. Na’vi men and women rush to begin the preparations for the iknimaya celebration on the open, sandy area on the beach. They haul in large, tightly strung instruments, scrupulously carved flutes, drums made from animal skin, and horns made from bone, setting them up on the large, flattened rocks.

The clans’ best singers apply various colours of tsamopin [warpaint] to their skin, accentuating their features, while the elder, wiser na’vi prepare the native dishes for the feast. Fruits, vegetables, grains, and meat are cooked to perfection and spread carefully for everyone to have a taste. Bottles of fermented fruit garnish the spread. Others hurry to ornament the space with harvested bioluminescent flora from inland, and light the bon fire.

Tsireya approaches you with a full, large basket tucked on her hip. She smiles as she places her free hand on your back, guiding you and the small group of four other na’vi who passed their iknimaya to a secluded marui. Propping the basket between two jutting mangrove roots, she retrieves a handful of different coloured beads and shells.

As tsakarem [Tsahik in training], it is Tsireya’s duty to seal the iknimaya by rewarding those who passed with a few artefacts to signify their adulthood. “For your songchord.” She speaks, distributing the beads among the five of you before fetching the special pieces of clothing.

“You have all passed your iknimaya.” She speaks softly, distributing the clothing to the others. “Soleia! [congrats; you met the challenge] You may all receive your inking at the ftxozä [celebration]”

She comes to you last, carefully handing you a woven palm leaf. “I am proud of you, y/n.” She whispers, watching as you quickly open the woven packet, revealing your first Metkayinan article of clothing. Your eyes widen as you hold it in front of them.

Seven warbonnet fern leaves stained in crimson coloured ink, strung tightly together with fishing line. It’s beautiful. The leaves are long and pointed, meticulously placed to provide enough coverage for your chest. You rest it against your chest, raising your brows at Tsireya for her opinion.

She clicks her tongue, hand flying to grip her chin as she ‘thinks’. “Hm... He’s definitely going to rip that off of you.” She teases, fingers covering her mouth to hide her giggle. You laugh, probably a little too loudly given the four pairs of eyes staring at you both.

“The sun is setting, everyone! Get ready, wear your pen [clothing] with pride, look your best, and most of all, have fun!” Tsireya shouts happily, gesturing with her hand for them to hurry.

Everyone rushes to get ready, slipping in their pen and putting on their best face. You observe their hasty, excited movements, when the last rays of sunlight avert your stare to the horizon. You catch sight of the sunset, something you rarely got to see back home. The big, blood orange orb sinks beneath the horizon, turning the water a hue of orange.

Your gaze follows the ginger ripples of the water up to the beach, where you’re met with the sight of a blazing bonfire, flames growing as tall as some palm trees. A breath-taking sight. The skilled pamtseotu [musicians] work at their instruments, nimble fingers plucking the taut strings, and the wax coated bones beating away at the drums.

You admire the glow of the people as they enjoy themselves. Two elderly women trying to hear each other over the loud da-dum of the drums. A few young adults having their first sips of pxir [beer; liquor]. Parents with their sleeping babies strapped to their backs sharing a dance under the moonlight. Ao’nung and Rotxo eating as much as their cheeks can hold. Ralak – oh.

Ralak talking to your father.

----

Ralak’s POV (starting from iknimaya)

“While I am sure she has taught you well, Ralak is the one to thank here.” He rests a firm hand on Ralak’s shoulder.

Ralak remains silent, yet his mind is loud. He has so much to do – so much on his plate. But all he can think about is you. How you bring light to his small, dim world. How your presence alone uplifts the weight on his shoulders. And oh, how the past few weeks have been tortuous for him.

Tonowari, the man that took him in after the passing of his parents, had him hard at work since you weren’t allowed to see him anymore. Tonowari isn’t oblivious to what’s going on. He can tell the situation for what it is, but out of respect for Jake he made the arrangements for Tsireya to teach you instead.

Ralak has been waiting for the right time to speak with Tonowari about the matter. The matter of asking for your hand. Although he wasn’t necessarily asking Tonowari for permission for your hand, but more so permission for himself. Permission to dedicate his time to his mate, his family – to his dream, mundane life.

He watches you swim back to the mangroves, and with an injured tsurak there’s a bit of time between you and the next contender. Tonowari instructs for the other warrior to tend to the tsurak, and for a moment, it’s just Tonowari and Ralak.

The two giants exchange glances, standing in silence as one waits for the other to speak. Ralak knows it’s the perfect time to do it. You’ve just passed your iknimaya and they’re alone and far from any company.

“Sir.” Tonowari turns to face Ralak, knowing what’s coming next. Ralak slowly raises his head, tilting it to return the gaze. “I want to mate with her.” He speaks assertively, showing his seriousness through a stern gaze.

Tonowari nods a few times, breaking eye contact as he momentarily drops his head. He knows what this means – what he’s truly asking for. Freedom. Less duties. More time put into building the family he’s always wanted. To rediscover his days as a fisherman. To live his simple life.

Tonowari looks at Ralak, hand swiftly moving to firmly grip his shoulder and give it a squeeze. “You have my blessing, son.” Ralak smiles, using his free hand to clasp Tonowari’s. “But you must speak with Toruk Makto first.” Tonowari booms with laughter, pulling his hand off Ralak’s shoulder.

Although Ralak is almost as much as a giant as his mentor, he found Jake to be intimidating. He has extreme respect for Jake, admiring how family oriented he is. Which is why he wants to do it right. “I will. Tonight.”

Ralak hauls in a lengthy, wooden table, plopping it down in the open, sandy area. An elderly woman approaches him, thanking him with a gentle hand to his back and a gummy smile. Her free hand holds a bowl containing a mixture of diced fruits. He quickly takes it from her, placing it carefully in the centre of the table.

“Allow me. You rest.” He says with a thick accent, linking arms with her to walk her back over to the seating area.

“Tak. Always such a kind boy.” She whispers softly, patting his hand before letting go and taking a seat.

Jake and Neytiri are assisting with the seating area, rearranging the order of things. Ralak gestures a respectful greeting to them both, bowing his head before the former Olo’eyktan. Neytiri gives him a warm smile, acknowledging his kind gesture towards the elder.

She has always disagreed with Jakes decision to separate you two, insisting that he is too harsh on you and that you have already passed your iknimaya back home. She had taken a liking to Ralak since the day you rode an ilu after only a week of lessons.

“Sir. May I speak with you?” Ralak asks politely.

Jake lets out a hesitant sigh, looking at his mate who’s shooting him a deathly glare. He purses his lips into a thin line and gives Ralak a firm nod, gesturing with his hand that they go somewhere more private to talk. He follows Jake willingly, walking with him to the shoreline.

They stand in silence for a moment, much like he did with Tonowari earlier. Ralak takes a deep breath, preparing himself for the worst. He turns to look Toruk Makto dead in the eye, mask of indifference fixed tightly to his face.

“I would like to apologize for the way things turned out. It was never my intention.” Ralak speaks, holding eye contact with the great warrior – who is visibly biting his tongue for the sake of not being strangled by his own wife. “Your daughter. She is truly the best thing that has happened to me. Kind. Caring. Understanding. Yes, she has her moments.” Ralak widens his eyes, quirking his brows before smirking a little. “But I love those too.”

“Uh-huh.” Jake gives him a small nod, doing a ‘come on’ motion with his hand, implying he should get to the point.

A little intimidated, Ralak averts his gaze to his feet and speaks quickly and confidently. “I want to provide for her. Protect her. With my life. I will give her anything she desires. Everything she needs. I will give her a good life.” Ralak’s eyes snap up to meet Jake’s. “But only with your permission, sir.”

“You gonna look me in the eye this time and make that promise?” Jake raises his brows, wrinkling his forehead.

Ralak clears his throat, straightening his shoulders to stand at full height, towering over Jake. “I love her. I will take care of her. Give her everything. If you’ll allow it.”

There’s a moment of silence – other than the increasingly loud thump of the drums – where Jake and Ralak stand face to face. Jake process all what Ralak has said. He’s never heard so many words fall from this man’s mouth before. Jake’s shoulders drop as he heaves a sigh, perked ears now relaxing against his skull. Hands flying to his hips, he looks away briefly before looking back at Ralak.

“She’s my babygirl. You know that, right?” Jake growls through gritted teeth.

“Yes, sir.” Ralak is quick to answer.

“I swear, if you let anything – and I mean anything happen to my babygirl...” Jake’s voice his dark and gruff, laced with uncertainty.

“Understood. And, agreed. If anything happens to her, you have every right.” Ralak assures the former Olo’eyktan, grimacing at the mere thought.

“Right. Then you have my permission, Ralak.” Jake nods, extending his arm to the taller na’vi. Ralaks ears bolt upright, overjoyed to hear the words. They join arms with an audible smack, sealing the deal with a firm shake. “Go on. Go find her.” Jake nudges over to the mangroves with his chin, “Before I change my mind.” Ralak bows his head slightly and parts ways to look for you.

---- End of Ralak’s POV

Shit, I should go. You think, turning on your heels to go find Ralak. By the time you’ve turned around, everyone is gone except for Tsireya.

“Come, let’s get you ready.” Tsireya grins wide, slowly creeping towards you with her handmade palette of colours.

You pull your head back, a downturned smile spreading across your face. “Where are you putting that? What is that?”

“Just a little something for your cheeks, come on.” She smiles even wider, dipping her finger into the creamy concoction.

“Eh. Not my thing.” You pull your head back even more.

“Ralak will like it.” She sings, wiggling her pink stained finger in the air.

You let out a small sigh of defeat and lean forward. “Fine. Only a little, okay?”

“Mhm!” Tsireya squeals, beaming with delight as he smears the creamy mixture on the apples of your cheeks. “There. And a little for your lips, too.” She says, quickly swiping it on your lips before you can refuse.

You grunt in response, popping your lips to distribute it evenly. “Well. How do I look?”

“Sevin [pretty], and you’ll look even better when you put that on.” She stares at the crimson strained top in your hands.

You slip into your top, fixing the leaves into position to cover your nipples, and do a twirl for the chief’s daughter. “Well?” You ask with open hands.

You didn’t think that cheeky grin could grow much wider, but it does. A grin so wide that it’s ear to ear.“Fyole [perfect]. Now let’s go get your mate.”

Maybe her giddiness is just catching, but hearing one of the most beautiful girls in the village call you fyole makes you grin too. She tugs at your arm, urging you to follow her down the webbed pathway towards the sandy area.

As you both make your way down to the beach, the faint whoof of the drums deepen in bass, and the plunk of the stringed instruments grows higher. And soon you can make out the song that’s playing. It’s the same song that Tsireya has been trying to hum to you for the past week. You keep your chin tucked to your chest, gaze locked to your feet as you follow behind Tsireya.

Once you see the silky sand spill through the cracks of your toes, you look up to see that you’re both standing at the edge of the crowd. People are packed tightly together, sweaty bodies pressed firmly against each other as they move to the beat.

The ambiance is electric, you can practically see it jolt through the crowd. Different colours glow around the moving bodies, it reminds you of your dream hunt.

Tsireya grabs a hold of your hand, squeezing it tightly to bring you out of your deep thought. “Remember what I taught you, yes?” You stare at her wide-eyed, knowing what she’s going to tell you next. “Dance with me, vultsyìp [stick].” She sings the last word teasingly, tugging you into the crowd behind her.

As much as you loved the music, you’re focused on Ralak. You want to find him, be with him. You look around as you both weave through the crowd, bumping into people having a good time, drinking, and dancing. You swear you see a few people laying in the sand on top of one another, bent into positions you’ve never seen before.

Tsireya can sense that you’re a little anxious. Perhaps you feel out of place, or maybe you’re just a little stunned by the way of her – your people dance. She looks back on you and gives you a reassuring smile, squeezing your hand tighter as she burrows you both through the dancing crowd.

Finally coming to a more spacious area, she wraps her arms around your waist and pulls you in close. You slump into her, chin resting on her shoulder. Her lips brush against the shell of your ear. “Let him come to you.”

You pull back, looking around to see if he’s anywhere nearby before leaning back in to speak into her ear. “How will he know where to find me?”

Tsireya laughs, lifting a hand from your waist to tap her flat nose a few times, signing ‘smell’.

You nod slowly, trusting her word, despite you being in a large crowd that reeks of pxir[liquor], and – sex. You take a deep breath, smelling an array of scents all mixed, and overlapping one another. It’s almost overwhelming, leaving you feeling all hazy and dazed.

“Now dance with me!” She shouts over the boom of the music, sliding her hands down your waist to grip your hips. A giggle bubbles up your throat, the aphrodisiac properties of the music now taking affect. It sets a fire in your body, heating you up from the inside out and making your hips move in her grip.

It’s a little frightening, feeling your body move on its own, much like it did during your first heat. You try to fight it a little, feeling a little timid from how the music is affecting you in this way. But you recall Tsireya explaining to you that it’s something to do with ‘the way of Eywa permeating through the music’ – or something.

Tsireya realizes that your movements are bit rigid and broken, plagued with uncertainty. “Let go. Feel the music.” She urges you, guiding your hips in the direction of her motions. You allow yourself to let go, closing your eyes to immerse yourself in the trance of the music, moving freely to the rhythm.

With each beat of the drum comes a quick roll of your waist. And soon you’re dancing on her, vibrations of the instruments rippling through you. It comes naturally, body moving in a sinuous manner against hers. At the same time, it’s such a foreign feeling, as if your pores are dilating and releasing your essence into the air.

Meanwhile, Ralak is searching for you at the edge of the crowd, peeking over the sea of people. His eyes quickly scan the waves of dancing na’vi, looking for his tahni. His deep blue tahni. He had no interest in going into the crowd, much less surrender himself to the hypnotic ways of the music.

But he has no other choice.

He nosedives into the crowd, working his way between people as they increasingly get more and more suggestive with their bodies. One cannot simply walk through this without being affected to some degree – the pink tinge of his cheeks is evidence of it.

A hand instinctively flies to his nose to block out the mixture of scents bombarding him. Pxir. Sex. Desperation. Its almost contagious. Only making him want to be with you even more. Nearly to the point of desperation. He needs you. To be around you. To touch you. To be inside you.

Until it just becomes too much. Too much that a simple hand overing his burning nostrils won’t suffice. He drops his hand in defeat, allowing the mesmeric fumes to engulf him. It’s nauseating, yet his want for you grows stronger, to the point where he could swear to Eywa herself that the scent is slowly morphing into yours.

And yours only.

Ralak closes his eyes, inhaling so deeply that his chest tightens – all so he can savour your sweet, sweet aroma. He succumbs to it, nose following the scent to the source like an ilu being lured with a piece of fish. When he opens his eyes, he sees you. Clear as day.

There’s an aura around you, glowing so bright it’s almost blinding. It’s like the light in the darkness – all over again. Just like the first day he met you. The day you brought meaning to his life after losing so much.

Right there.

In awe, he watches your little body move effortlessly to the rhythm, slender tail swishing excitedly behind you. It’s the way you look – all flushed and flustered, dressed in the clothes of the Metkayina. He swallows thickly at the sight, influence of your pheromones making it that much harder – literally. He’s so hard it hurts, balls tightening and pulling so close to him that he shifts his weight to the next foot.

Yet his eyes dare not move. They bore into you so deep that even you can sense his stare. Your body knows he’s close, speeding up with your lewd movements, luring him in even more. And it works. He can’t help but move a little closer. Just to get a better look at you. At how you’ve learned the dance of his people, moving just like one of them with no difficulty.

And then you feel him.

Pressing against your body from behind, his warmth only heating you up more. You can smell him – no need to turn around to check who it is. You lean back into him, back of your head slumping into his chest. Everything’s so hot – so heavy. He leans down, pressing his soft, warm lips against your throat, using his tongue to taste the sheen on your skin.

You exhale an audible haah, chest heaving harshly as your nipples harden into peaks underneath your new garments. Tsireya lets you go, retreating into the crowd to leave you both alone. His hands quickly replace hers, wrapping tightly around your waist, pulling you in closer to his hot body.

That’s when you feel it, hard and firm, pressing into your lower back. Then your breaths turn raggedy, becoming louder. You can’t help but grind into it, feeling him bend his knees, body receptive to your movements. And soon he’s grinding into you too, bodies falling into synchrony.

“So this is what you have been learning. Hm?” He whispers gruffly into the shell of your ear, following your every move as you lower yourself even more.

“May-be” The word comes out broken from the pace your body is setting for him to keep up with.

“All for me?” He chuckles, greedy hands lowering to your thighs, fingers smoothing over your clammy skin.

“Mmn – mhm.” You purr, thighs squeezing together as you shimmy your hips into him, providing your throbbing clit with a little friction.

His hands swipe underneath your loincloth as they glide back up to your hips, his lips pressing into your neck once more. He peppers hot, wet kisses down to the tips of your shoulders and up to the back of your neck. It sends your freckles flickering under the moonlight, surely gaining more eyes on the two of you.

But neither of you cared. Not in this moment.

“Feel me.” He growls, sinking his fingers into your hips to shove you into his pelvis. “Feel what you do to me.”

You can hear the frustration in his voice, he’s so wound up that you can just tell from the way he’s manhandling your hips. “Oh, fuck.” You gasp, rubbing yourself against his hardened bulge, tail wrapping around his thin waist.

Calloused hands work their way up your stomach, fingers grazing over the dip of your navel before finding purchase under the strings of your top. He hooks his thumbs under the twine, running them along its length. You bow your back against him, pushing back into his crotch.

“My beautiful tahni.” He groans shakily, resisting the urge to pin you down and take what’s his, right here, right now. “I have missed you.”

“Ma’ Lak.” You moan softly, feeling so out of it – so hazy and light-headed.

“Do me the honour of being my mate.” He tries to speak politely, keeping his voice steady and calm, rough grinding smoothing into gentle swaying.

“Say that again for me.” You pant through a smile, dipping your head forward to give him better access to your neck.

A low growl rumbles in his chest as pointed canines graze over the nape of your neck, eager to sink into your supple skin. You spin around, drawing a little blood when they scrape against your skin. He shoves a knee between your legs, spreading them apart to press his pelvis firmly into yours. “Mate with me, woman.”

“Oh, yeah? Right here?” You tease, tugging at his queue to bring it over his shoulder.

“You’re trouble. You know that?” He chuckles breathily, leaning down to nuzzle into your neck, breathing in your hypnotic scent.

“I’ve been told.” You let out a soft giggle, twirling the end of his kuru around your finger.

Eywa, did that feel good.

“Come.” He says quickly - impatiently, hoisting you up onto him, wrapping your legs around his waist. He stumbles over to the shore, still feeling the effects of the melodic music coursing in his bloodstream. Quickly calling for his tsurak with a tik-tak, he watches as the large beast glides through the water towards him.

In an instant, Ralak bonds and mounts the beast with you stuck to him, holding you close with one hand and gripping the harness tightly with the other. You bury your face into his chest, basking in his natural scent as you try to calm down. But you’re so on edge and need some sort of release soon.

“Need y-you. S-so bad.” You moan needily, breath hitching as you grind the soft flesh between your legs against the tautness of his tewng [loincloth].

Ralak’s brows pinch tightly together, huffing a breath of hot air through his nostrils. His restraint is dwindling by the millisecond. He needs you. Craves you. Hungers for you. And he can no longer withhold himself, not when you’re still grinding into him, even though the music has faded out.

“I know. Almost there. A little longer.” He hums breathlessly, beads of sweat rolling down his temples.

Ralak’s so flustered and hot that he can barely maintain control over his winged beast, making the ride to the cove of ancestors rough and bumpy. The burning need to possess you – dominate you – only grows stronger with each huff of hot air you breathe onto his bare chest.

He wants so badly to just drill himself inside you, right on the back of this tsurak. Leaving his cock buried deep in your tight, wet heat for the remainder of the ride. So that when you do arrive, he can lay you down on the nearest rock and have his way with you.

But he won’t. Not for your first time. Not before you mate.

Your breath rasps in your throat, nimble fingers working away at the knot above his tail. It’s as if you could hear his thoughts already, telling you to take him right here, right now. Or perhaps it’s the way his painfully hard cock almost bores through the thin cloth, right into your sopping cunt as his hips buck into you. Both of you reek with desperation, a scent so pungent any passer-by would gag. Yet he still finds the self-control to reach behind him to rest a gentle hand on your wriggling fingers.

“Wait.” A single word parts his flushed lips, gruff and strained. It’s all he can get out in his state of mind. He wants nothing more than to just do this the right way. The way he’s been planning for years on end. You whine a little when he pulls your hand away, plunking it back onto your slippery thigh.

“Please.” You mewl, fingers now burrowing between your pelvises to slip under the band of his loincloth, pulling it down just enough to unsheathe his thick cock. It’s slaps against his flexed abdomen, tip of his glossy, reddened head poking right below his crossed ribs. It’s all swollen and throbbing, sticky from how much precum he’s leaking all over himself.

Denying him the chance to refuse, you shove your clothed cunt against his slickened length, humping into him with ease. He tries to bite back a sudden groan, tightening his jaw so much he may fracture it. His breaths turn raggedy as he rests his chin on the crown of your head.

Eyes becoming so lidded, he doesn’t even realise that you’re finally here. The cove of the ancestors. The most sacred places in the village of Awa’atlu, where na’vi go to mate. You’re blissfully unaware of your surroundings, trying to stick your hand in your crotch to shift your loincloth to the side.

“I said. Wait.” A gruff, stern voice sends a shiver down your spine.

And fuck – it only makes you hornier, sending your hips in a thrusting frenzy, doing their best to line his cockhead up with your dripping entrance. You can’t quite catch it as it keeps bucking and slipping over your puffy clit. You grunt a frustrated ‘mmph’, irritated that he isn’t sliding in like you thought.

Ralak is struggling to maintain his composure. Half of him wants to chuckle at your futile attempts to fuck him, and the other half wanting to just ram his cock inside you for being so stubborn. He takes a deep breath in, holding it to reground himself. He exhales a sigh of relief once he bumps into the rocky cove of his people’s most sacred place.

“Eywa – tahni.” A tortured groan evades his lips when he forces himself to shift his pelvis away from you as you persist with your efforts to hurt yourself. He inhales deeply, slowing his galloping heart. “Be a good girl for me, hm? We are here now.” He croons at you, wrapping your hands around his neck and supporting your back as he dismounts his tsurak.

The bioluminescence of the water glows behind you as Ralak walks you both towards a nearby sea cave. Directly below you is the spirit tree – its fronds and filters luminating the area radiantly. You try to squirm out his grip, feet dangling above the cave floor from the way he refuses to let you go.

“Not here. Too rough.” He grunts as he hoists you back up and walks further into the large, open sea cave. Its floor is completely flat, with all sorts of flora growing between the cracks of the rock. The deeper you venture in, the greener it becomes. Until eventually, all that covers the floor is a thick bed of green, silky moss.

Little creatures buzz around, luminating the darkness of the cave, exposing the markings on the wall from previous mating sessions. Etched swirls, zigzags, and other patterns to signify a new union. There’s no doubt that this little ‘hidden’ spot is a popular place for na’vi to mate before Eywa.

You calm down a bit, influence of the music wearing off now that you’re both so far away from the celebration. At this point you just feel a bit buzzed, melting into Ralak’s grasp as your tense muscles relax. But your droopy eyes snap open when you feel him unwrapping your legs from his waist.

“Here.” Ralak husks, voice deep and thick with arousal.

He lets you down gently, snaking his arms around your waist to pull you in for a kiss. His lips crash into yours, so heated and frantic that there’ll for sure be bruises there tomorrow. His eager hands explore your body, releasing all the pent-up feelings he’s been holding back for the past few months.

Hearts thumping wildly in your chests, you pull away and share the same breath, panting open mouthed before your lips meet again. His hands find themselves cupped around your reddened cheeks, impatiently pulling you in closer until your bodies are flush against one another.

Webbed hands work their way down the column of your throat, calloused thumbs gently pressing into your windpipe. You let out a choked gasp, mouth hanging open as his hands continue their way down to your chest, fingers parting the blood-red leaves to expose your stiffened nipples.

Rolling the tiny, sensitive peaks between his thumb and index fingers, he quickly moves his kisses down your jaw and up to the lobe of your ear, biting it as gently as he can. You stand there open-mouthed, breath catching in your throat momentarily.

You exhale as you rub your thighs together, smearing your sticky arousal all over them. It spreads your scent into the air, causing Ralak to pull away from your ear and takes a deep breath in. He releases it with a lengthy ‘ahh’, face growing hot from the way you smell. You can see him clench and unclench his jaw as the lump in his throat moves from how hard he’s swallowing.

Cerulean eyes pierce into yours, a moment of stillness passes by where his face morphs into the same face he makes when he’s trying not to succumb to that animalistic urge to ravish you on the spot. But it’s been too long. No amount of clenching and gritting could help him.

Not tonight.

He grabs you by the jaw, pulling you up on the tips of your toes to kiss you – hard. His lips crush yours frenetically, letting go all his worries and apprehensions. Truly indulging himself in the moment. In you. He fills his lungs with your arousal – your aphrodisiac. Getting high on you and allowing his body to speak for him.

Slipping his tongue into your mouth, he backs you up against the wall, hand flying to the back of your head to cushion the impact. Your tongues roll over each other, taking in the feeling of every tastebud. Both his hands slip down to yours, lengthy fingers enfolding your wrists as he brings them above your head, pinning them to the wall.

He quickly binds your wrists together, securing them tightly with one hand whilst he shoves his free hand between your slickened thighs. A small, shaky gasp breaks the kiss, thick fingers tugging down your soddened garments. You help him by shimmying your hips, allowing the flimsy material to drop to your ankles.

Now you’re just irresistible.

His fingers graze past your plump, smooth folds, before finding their way in between them. “Ralak.” His name slips out, all breathy and small. You say it so nicely, so sweet and innocent, and his ears can’t help but flicker at the double syllabled word. Eywa, he loves it so much that he makes it his mission to have you scream it by the end of the night.

But not yet.

He brings his digits to his nose, inhaling as deep as his lungs can go, closing his eyes to relish in the sweet, sweet scent of your arousal. And when his eyes open, you swear you see them shift in colour, darkening to a cerulean blue. There filled with greed, gazing longingly at you as if you were something to devour.

And that’s when he takes his fingers into his mouth, having his taste of you. Tongue weaving through the cracks of his digits, he licks them clean, using his thumb to wipe the corners of his mouth before popping that in too. There was something about the way he did that, sucking on his fingers as if you were the best thing, he’s ever tasted in his twenty-four years of living.

It makes you want to taste him too. Back bowing against the jagged wall, you try to wriggle free from his grasp, prompting him to loosen his fingers. In an instant you sink to your knees, staticky hands latching onto his thighs as you press your face against his half-covered bulge. His hand flattens against the wall, supporting his weight as he peers down at you wide-eyed.

You walk your fingers up his thighs, tucking them under the band of this loincloth to yank it down. Out springs his twitching cock, rock hard and throbbing from how swollen he’s gotten from sharing a few kisses. Your eyes cross as you look at it for the first time up close.

It’s... thick. So thick you can’t close your hand around it, leaving a spacious gap between your fingers and thumb. It only gets fatter towards the middle, then tapers off into his mushroomy head, curved and ribbed. His ridges are pointed, yet soft, spanning around and down the underside of his cockhead.

It curves upward, jumping to the rate of his heartbeat. A single bead of precum oozes from his slit, dripping off his cockhead in a thin string. Your tongue darts out, flattened with the tip of it touching your chin, eyes locked on his as you wait patiently for your fill. And when it finally drops onto your tongue, your tastebuds dance from the slightly sweet taste.

His brows jump at the sight, eyelids fluttering a little too quickly to be considered calm and collected. You can’t fight the smug look creeping on your face when you lock your jaw and swallow it with glee. Oh, to make a big, grown man like him crumble.

Naturally, you want to see how far you can push him. You wrap your dainty fingers around his cock, hold it taut to expose his throbbing head. Unsure of what you’re doing, you give him little kitten licks, playing with the little ridges underneath the tip of his cock.

His head slumps forward, thick strands of loose hair swaying side to side as his core flexes and unflexes. He’s biting his bottom lip, struggling to hold back that low grumble deep in his chest, hand balling into a fist against the wall.

And when you finally take him into your mouth, engulfing him in wet heat, his hips thrust. Hard. He didn’t mean for it, you just feel so fucking good around his cock, swollen lips stretching to their limit just for him to fit. Your eyes water, tip of his cock prodding into the back of your throat, corners of your mouth burning from the sheer size of him.

The way you’re looking up at him all glossy eyed and innocent, trying to absolute hardest not to gag on not even half of his cock sends him over the edge. He tightens his fist, knuckles scraping against the rocky wall, surely becoming bloody as he fights the urge to thrust into you one more time.

That’s when you hear the rumble in his chest, the steady, low growl traveling up his throat. Perhaps it was meant to scare you, or maybe it’s the face he’s making – narrowed, beady eyes and thinly pursed lips. Make you sit in the dip of your feet and be the good girl he wants you to be. But it only makes you wetter, thick strings of your own slick oozing onto the mossy floor.

You take him deeper into your mouth, mushroomy tip making its way down the tightness of your throat. The hot tears stream down your cheeks, washing away the rouge to reveal an even pinker tinge of your skin. The saliva pooling in your cheeks spills out the corners of your mouth, dribbling down your chin with nowhere to go.

Instinctively, you swallow.

An innocent reflex, as innocent as the glazed eyes that peer up at him. He lets out a sudden, sonorous groan, brows pinching so tightly together it creases his forehead. It’s so sensitive, so tender, that his hips snap back, cock pulling out your mouth with a loud pop. His bloodied hand flies down to your pinch your chin, pushing you away from him all together.

“’m sorry.” You apologize through a hoarse voice, thinking you’ve hurt him.

He shakes his head, thumb swiping the drool on your swollen bottom lip. “Don’t.” He exhales, chest rising and falling from how hard he’s breathing. You watch this gentle giant crumble to his knees before you, chin tucked to his chest to hide his face. He swallows harshly, clearing his throat as he slowly raises his head and looks up at you through hooded eyes.

“Tsaheylu.” He says breathlessly, heated ears laying flat against his head. He catches his breath as he shuffles closer to you, hand reaching for his kuru. All that’s running through his mind is that he must do this right. And with whatever remaining restraint ebbing away, he must do it now. “Tsaheylu, tahni.” He repeats quickly.

Ralak holds his kuru upwards, exposing his pink tendrils as they dance wildly before your eyes. There’s a moment of silence, where you both take in the lilac hue of his kuru. You nod franticly as a hasty hand reaches behind you, quickly tugging your queue in front of you. You hold yours next to his, revealing your wiggling tendrils.

Your eyes widen when you realize that they sense one another – an invisible force pulling them together. You glance up at him, wondering if he’s feeling the tug too. He’s watching intently, ears twitching and eyes tinted purple from the hues of your kurus coming closer together all on their own.

Looking back down, you witness your tendrils excitedly intertwine with one another, kurus meeting with a quick, harsh tug. His eyes slam shut, ears practically disappearing as they embrace the curve of his skull. He exhales loudly, head dipping forward as his brows gather tightly.

Your breath catches in your throat, body waiting for him to take a breath. When he finally does, you gasp for air, filling your lungs in synchrony with him. His eyes pop open, pupils so blown that only a thin ring of blue remains. Your tail swishes wildly behind you before curling around your waist to tickle his thigh.

A faint ring buzzes in your ears, fading out into a vague, echo of his voice. You can hear his thoughts, feel the way your tail brushes against his skin makes him hot and bothered. You can feel his tightened chest, thick with emotion and overwhelm. And if you close your eyes and focus enough, you can feel his deep-rooted trauma – his past.

But you can also feel his present. His future. The way he desires you to be the one to bear his children. To make his marui into a home. His immense adoration for you and only you. and the more you tune into your mate, the more you feel his immense restraint and composure, the way he’s forcing himself to be gentle.

It’s all too much at once, yet not enough all together.

“I love you.” You blurt out in unison, urge so strong it’s exigent.

The tightness in your chest grows ten-fold, spreading to your core. Eager hands caress one another’s cheeks, pulling each other in for another heavy session of kissing. You break the kiss with a shove to his chest – your futile attempt to push him onto his back. He’s unbudging, strong and solid, even in such a carnal state.

“Lie down, Lak.” You pant, still out of breath from such an intimate experience.

Ralak nods, slowly leaning back to prop himself up on his elbows. Loose, curly strands of hair sticks to his temples, inebriated gaze boring into yours. You climb between his legs, settling yourself comfortably in the dips of your feet.

His neglected cock twitches madly, pre-cum practically flowing down his length and onto his swollen, firm balls. You swallow thickly at such an enticing sight. You want to taste him. To return the pleasure he’s always ensuring for you. Now that you’re here, between this gentle giant’s legs, you realise that you’ve never even stroked him before.

Shaky, inexperienced hands wrap around his girth, experimentally gliding up and down its length a few times. You can feel every vein, every ridge pressing into the palm of your hands. He’s so rock hard that it looks painful. You can tell in the way he grimaces, peering down at you as you pump him without rhythm.

Holding his cock out the way, you lean in do something you’ve been thinking about since the day of your first lesson. Lick his tattoo. It’s raised and warm, even a little veiny too. You trace each stripe with the tip of your tongue, trailing it down to the base of his cock. Nuzzling your face into the space between his thigh and balls, you fill your lungs with his musky aphrodisiac.

“Eywa. You smell... so fucking good.” You exhale, licking his cock from base to tip. He shudders before you, lying down flat on his back and covering his face with his hands. You can tell you’re doing a good job, the little groans evading his mouth confirming that for you.

Taking him into your mouth, you suck on his mushroomy head, swallowing all the slick that pools in your cheeks. Its mostly sweet, with a little bit of a salty aftertaste. You mindlessly play with the ridges under his tip, liking the way they feel against your tastebuds. He seems to like it too, hips jolting forward with each swipe of your tongue.

“Muntxate [wife]” He growls the word, hand flying from his face to grab a fist full of your hair.

Yes, my love? You think, knowing he’s hearing your every thought and feeling your every emotion.

“Keep doing that and I’ll cum.” He warns you, tone of voice gruff and serious.

Good. Cum for me.

“Ssst–ah.” He lets out a shaky breath, hand beginning to pull your head off him. You quickly clutch his wrist, picking up the speed of your tongue whilst bobbing your head on his cock. “Tahni. Tahni. Tahni.” He groans, each word becoming more and more guttural as they slip off his tongue.

Let me taste you, Muntxatan [husband].

“Shit.” He whispers, caving in on himself as his other hand flies to your head, stopping you from bobbing your head all together. With a quick, single swipe of your tongue, his head pulsates feverishly, spurting ropes of warm, thick cum in your mouth. It pools in your cheeks, stuffing them until they burn from how full they are.

You swear you can hear the da-thump of his throbbing cock, balls pulling closely to his core. You hum triumphantly, proud of yourself for making him cum. You pull off with a subtle pop and a loud gulp, swallowing his huge load with greed. Wide eyes stare down at you, processing what you just did.

Seconds of silence fill the air, two freshly mated na’vi staring into each other’s eyes.

Within seconds he’s pinning you down on your back, assaulting your throat with rough kisses. His core ruts against yours, sweaty, inexperienced bodies bumping into each other. Everything moves so quickly that you can barely process how he’s got you pinned down on your back underneath him, trailing wet, feverish kisses down your chest. You go to slip out of your top, only for a large hand to stop you.

“Keep it on.” He grunts into your skin, tip of his tongue leaving a trail of saliva down the centre of your stomach. Eyes flicking up to yours, his predatory, lustful gaze bores into you, soft lips pressing into your abdomen. They flicker from side to side as they admire your luminous beauty, flushed lips sucking bruised-like marks into your dark skin.

Little broken mewls part your lips, hips lifting slightly as he peppers gentle kisses below your navel. He maintains eye contact with you as he works his way down to your hipbones, leaving open-mouthed kisses against your hips, he works his way down to your soft thighs, tip of his tongue swiping against your skin – salty from the sea. He lingers there for a while, breathing deeply to savour the sweet scent of your heat that’s so, so close to him.

He lingers there, waiting patiently.

Waiting for your permission as he begs you with his eyes to let him have a proper taste of you. To have his turn. One side of your mouth pulling coy smirk, you weave your fingers through his hair to push his nose between your folds. He wrenches your thighs open, pinning your legs to the mossy ground as he begins to devour you.

Tongue parting your pussy lips, he greedily laps up the sweet nectar dripping from your slit. He grunts into your cunt, sucking on your clit, all swollen and puffy from being so neglected. His hips buck into the mossy bedding beneath him, chasing the feeling that’s transferring to him through the bond.

You yelp out when you feel his finger stretch you out, sinking inside you at a torturously slow pace. He doesn’t want to be too rough with you as it’s been a while since he’s touched you in this way. But you reassure him with a tug at his wrist, shoving his finger knuckle deep inside you.

But it’s just not enough.

“M-more, Ralak. Please!” You cry out, extreme pressure in your chest coming to a head.

Feeling the taut tension, Ralak quickly obliges, sinking another digit inside of you as he assaults the little bud of nerves with the flat of his tongue. Your toes curl at the same time he curls his fingers inside you, prodding them deep into that gummy part of your heat. The pressure feels like electricity, surging through your core and to the tips of your extremities.

He loves how you’re squirming around, hips sputtering to chase your orgasm all on your own. He’s so proud of you, working for your own release like the good girl you are. Praising you with a quick pat on your thigh, he quickens the pace of his fingers, working out a squelch with each thrust.

You begin chanting his name over and over, voice waning with each syllable, until its nothing a tiny, pathetic whimper. Your head spins and your heart skips as you clench tightly around his digits. Your legs tremble, working their way towards one another to close around his face.

“Gonna – oh f-fuck.” You let loose a sudden whine, shoving him into your pussy when you feel the final shockwave ripple through your being, leaving you a shaking mess at the mercy of his two fingers and tongue. Following your every jolt, he hums a victorious groan from the feeling of your pussy walls fluttering helplessly around his fingers. He pulls away with a ‘pwah’, using this opportunity of pure, unadulterated pleasure to stretch you out even more.

“Good girl. And breathe for me.” Ralak coos, sliding his third and final finger inside you. The stretch stings, causing you to wince for just a moment. He quickly curls his fingers, causing another wave of white-hot pleasure to ripple through you, masking that string just right.

Ralak gently moves his fingers inside you, just enough to get you used to the such a big stretch. The sharp sting fades away, leaving nothing but small shocks of electricity surging through your swollen pussy. Slumping your head back into the pillowy moss, you focus on steadying your breathing. Your vision is blurry, and things are becoming hazy, but you don’t want this moment to end.

“Lak... Want more. Please.” You moan weakly, eyes crossing before they roll to the back of your head. You’re already all fucked out from his fingers alone yet you’re begging him for more. And he can see it, too. The way you’re just so spent, body trembling beneath him as he continues to stimulate your rubbed out sweet spot.

“I am not like you, tahni. I only have three.” He chuckles softly, curling them inside you as a reminder.

“Ngh! Y-you know what I mean. I want you...” Your voice falters, hand reaching down to grab his erection, a little surprised that he’s still this hard. “I want this. Please.”

His features soften, apprehension filling his lower stomach just from the jaded look you’re throwing his way. “Are you sure? We can do it another time.” He insists, feeling how tight you still are, despite taking three of his fingers.

“No, please no.” You pant as you shake your head lethargically, shimmying your hips closer to his. “Need-you-to-fuck-me!” You cry out, stringing the desperate words together so quickly it almost sounds like one.

“Tahni.” He utters just over a whisper, staring down at you with eyes of concern. Not only can he see the exhaustion on your face, but he can feel it too. It travels in waves through the bond, right into him. And after such a long day, iknimaya and all, it’s expected. “It will be too much for you right now.”

“You said, ‘anything I please with’. Right?” A tremulous, soft voice reminds him of his deal, knowing he’s a man of his word, albeit few. He chews on his bottom lip, a little impressed with you. He heaves a heavy sigh of defeat, positioning himself between your clammy thighs as he hoists your legs over his.

“Tell me if it hurts. Okay?” He leans over you, using a thumb at the base of his cock to line it up with your entrance.

You nod lazily before tucking your chin to your chest to witness you become one. The crown of his cock prods at your tight opening, looking massive in comparison. For a second you even question yourself how that will fit inside you. It’s way bigger than his three fingers combined, not to mention, much, much lengthier.

It bucks against your innocence, slipping and gliding over your sticky clit. You both grunt in unison, tension snapping just to rebuild all over again. His hips snap back, all four fingers now gripping the base of his cock.

An unexpected wave of anxiety crashes through you, making you cling onto your mate. You bury your hot face into his shoulder, completely abandoning the plan to witness it strip you of your innocence. He can feel your hesitation through the bond, holding his position in case you change your mind.

“Do it, ma’ lak. Put it inside me.” You mumble quietly into the dip of his collarbone, inching your hips closer to his.

He pushes into you slowly, breaking past the resistance of your tightness, mushroomy tip liding in with an audible pop. You bite down onto his shoulder, hard enough to sink the full length of your canines into his cyan coloured skin, staining it red with his blood. It muffles your pained, little cry, tear drops crashing onto the swell of your cheeks.

Fuck, it hurts.

It hurts so much that it makes your body shake and shiver underneath him as it tries so desperately to adjust to his size. It burns and stings and oh – it’s just too much. It feels as if something were lodged between your joints, snapping you open with such force.

His movement comes to a standstill, as if he were frozen in time. He grimaces, unsure if its from the way you’re pinching him or if its from how deep your little canines are sunk into him. Or maybe it’s your pain transferring to him, but he feels it too.

“You okay? Feeling pain?” Ralak’s voice is tender, a gentle hand moving to release your bite.

You unlatch from his shoulder, leaving open puncture wounds for blood to trickle down his chest. The pain fades at a torturously slow rate, but any little movement causes a new wave of fire to shoot down your legs. Surely, just like with his fingers, if you stay here for a bit, it’ll fade completely.

“No. Haah. Just give a m-minute.” You pant out a lie, breath hitching at the last word.

“Y/n. I can feel your pain.” He utters breathily, pulling out as gently as he can.

“Don’t. Please, I want this.” Your voice is breathy, yet strained, legs quickly locking around his hips to push him in a little deeper. You let out a sudden, high-pitched whimper, burning sensation worsening. Your legs begin to shake uncontrollably around him, sending little vibrations up his spine.

“You’re shaking. Another time.” Ralak says sternly, unhooking your legs from around his hips.

“No, please.” A pathetic little plea falls from your lips.

He shakes his head, grinding his teeth together to deal with the guild bubbling in his chest. “Your body isn’t ready.” He mutters, pulling out tenderly. The more he moves, the more the scent of blood fills the air. He can feel it trickling down his back, but it’s the least of his concerns right now.

“I-I am ready. Please Lak, just give me a moment to –”

Ralak looks down as he pulls out, head snapping back up to reveal the panic etched into his features. “You – oh Eywa. You are bleeding, tahni.”

“It’s okay. I’m okay.” You coo with quivering lungs, cupping his cheek to make him look in your eyes. “Really. Look at me, Ralak.” You give him a wobbly smile, only for him to pull away from your grip.

“I am hurting you. Look.” Two fingers pinch your chin, pulling it down to avert your gaze. A thin layer of blood coats your inner thighs, some smearing on his too. Your eyes snap back up to his, which are glazed over with panic and guilt. He pulls out of you fully, sitting in the dip of his feet to have a proper look between your legs. “I am so sorry tahni... I-I thought I stretched you enough.”

“Lak...” You whisper shyly, trembling legs slowly closing to hide yourself from his eyes.

“We must go.” He declares, carefully scooping you up into his arms, holding you close to his chest as he makes his way out of the cave. Calling for his tsurak, he glances down at your face to see it screwed with discomfort. The guilt weighs heavy in his heart, driving him to act quickly.

So quickly that you don’t even realise that you’re already on the back of his tsurak, soaring at full speed through the water. You were truly fine, just a little sore and uncomfortable, but certainly nothing that required this level of speed. The ride back is uncomfortably quiet, Ralak trying his hardest to regulate his emotions. You can see the restrained look on his face, tightened brows, and thin lips.

“I’m alright, my love. You don’t have to go so quickly.” You try to reassure him with a small voice. He huffs a sigh in response, clenching and unclenching his jaw, biting back his feelings to focus on remedying the situation. “’ts not your fault.”

Eyes slamming shut, he shakes his head slightly, as if he were saying you were wrong. He holds you closer, opening his eyes to glance down at your blood-stained thighs. Eyelids fluttering, he looks back out into the distance, watching his marui pod appear larger and larger as he approaches it.

Within seconds he’s dismounted his skimwing, and takes large, quick strides to the cave. Your legs dangle over his forearm, other arm supporting your back as he carries you bridal style into the water. A shaky hand reaches for his kuru, holding it in the air to expose his pink, tendrils.

“Tsaheylu, Lak.” You groan needily, bringing it closer to yours.

“Soon, tahni. Let me clean you first.” He hums tenderly, glancing down at your body one last time before slowly submerging you in the water.

The lake is always warmer in the nights, glowing around you from its bioluminescent properties. Supporting your back with one hand, he carefully parts your legs and cleans you gently. Your eyes remain locked onto his face, his clenching jaw, his flattened ears – the way the column of his throat protrudes when he swallows.

The guilt is evident on his face, and it worsens the more he looks at what he’s done to you. And when he moves down to the flesh between your legs, you can’t help but jolt, legs closing around his hands as you wince a little. His head whips towards you, worried eyes boring into yours. You give him a quick smile, nodding that he can continue.

Hand parting your legs once more, he ensures to be extra gentle and tender, even leaning in to see if he’s doing it right. After he’s finished, he bathes the rest of your body, rinsing the sweat and grime out of your hair after such a long night.

“Thank you. You didn’t have to –” You mutter, trying to stand so you can have your turn at bathing him.

“No need.” He says quickly, scooping you back into his arms with ease, making his way up to his marui. “How are you feeling?”

“I feel fine, Lak. Honestly. You could’ve kept going, I just needed a moment.” You blubber out, trying to wriggle from his clutch.

He scoffs, shaking his head as he ducks under the flap to his marui. “You are like a baby.” He walks over to his bed and lays you down carefully, treating you as if you were really wounded. The leaves of your top stick to your breasts, wet and saturated from such a long bath.

“And you were about to fuck –” You mutter under your breath, to be cut off by Ralak’s glare. You let out a small sigh, a little frustrated from how the night played out. He walks towards a shelf on the opposite side of his marui, giving you the opportunity to sit up, and scoot over to the edge of the cot to get up.

His ears perk up from the shuffling sounds, but his back remains turned to you as he mutters the word. “Sit.”

Defeated, you plop back down onto the soft bedding, thumbs twiddling with one another as you wait for him to come back. Meanwhile he extends his arm to the top shelf, back muscles flexing as he retrieves two wooden drinking bowls and a bottle of liquid.

It’s mauve, and iridescent, swirling around as it sloshes from side to side. He pops it open with his back teeth, spitting the cork into a woven basket on the floor. He plans to cut it into two later, saving a piece each for your songchords.

Sitting next to you on the end of his cot, he hands you the wooden cup, nudging it closer to you with raised brows for you to take it from him. Reluctantly, you take it, a little confused as to what he’s giving you to drink. He pours the thick liquid into the cup, stopping after a few glugs. Then he pours himself one, too, waiting until the liquid touches the lip of his cup.

“Drink.” He orders, bringing his cup to his mouth as he waits for you to do the same.

Bringing it to your lips, your face screws with disgust, head turning away to get the smell out your face. You lower the cup into your lap, looking at him with an expression of perplexment.

How could he drink such a foul-smelling thing?

“Erm, no thanks... I’ll pass.” You barely get out, afraid to take a breath in.

His ears flatten in frustration, lip twitching ever so slightly. He knows this will help with the pain, so why are you being so stubborn? He doesn’t utter a single word, beady eyes piercing into yours.

“Okay. Okay. I’ll drink it... Eywa.” You say the great mother’s name like a curse, bringing the cup to your lip.

You take a sip, face contorts with revulsion, eyes watering as the liquid burns on the way down your throat. Your tongue darts out in repulsion as your eyes flicker up to him, brows raising inquisitively to ask if you drank enough.

His lips purse, and he shakes his head slightly. “All.”

You heave a sigh, rolling your eyes a little before bringing the cup back up to your lips once more. You feel a single finger rest under your hand, nudging it upwards to tilt the cup all the way back, encouraging you to take a swig. You knock it back, gulping down the viscous liquid and stick your tongue out for proof.

He nods in approval, slight smirk curling the side of his lips. He knocks his back in one go, letting out ‘ahh’ after the liquid travels down his throat. Not even a wince. He seems to enjoy the burn.

For you, the after taste is even worse, making your nose scrunch and the tears overflow from your eyes. He’s quick to wipe them away with his thumb, tucking a strand of loose hair behind your ear before retracting his hand entirely.

“What did I just drink?” You croak, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand.

“Fermented fruit. Pxir...” He looks at you, “Liquor.” Ralak takes the cup from you and refills it, as well as his.

Plunking it back into your hand, you look at him through pinched brows. “What does it do?”

He brings his to his wet lips, exhaling a sigh of guilt. “Pain. It will help with the pain.” He sighs, throwing his head back and swallowing the pxir in one, loud gulp.

Your features soften when you realize how he knows such a thing. “Is this what you had when you did your own tattoo?”

“Yes. Not the same. But the same effect.” He chuckles a little, impressed by your ability to put things together so quickly.

“Ah. I see.” You say, looking at the liquid as it swirls around in your cup. “So if I drink enough of this, you’d do my tattoo for me?”

“Sure.” He utters, fighting the little smile creeping on his face as he watches you chug the pxir. “But tomorrow. I have already caused you a great deal of pain today.”

Another sigh makes its way out your nose. You give up entirely, handing him the empty cup and laying down in the bed. Your bed. In your marui pod. Wondering, heavy eyes begin exploring the pod all on their own. It feels like the stilts holding the roof up are spinning, making you feel a bit woozy.

“Ralak. I feel weird.” You hiccup, heavy lidded eyes threatening to close for good. “All... bubbly.”

“Ah. My tahni.” He hums softly, sliding into bed next to you. “It will do that to you. Get some rest, okay?” He rakes his fingers through your hair, using his fingertips to massage your scalp.

“Lak. I want – I want to try again, doesn’t hurt anymore.” You blabber incoherently, trying to open your legs for him. Reminded of the pain that he brought you, Ralak shakes his head, closing your legs gently and covering you with the sheet. Snuggling into his warm chest, your eyes fall shut for the night.

“Another day.” Ralak whispers, planting a soft kiss on your forehead.

Unable to sleep, he spends the rest of the night swigging straight from the bottle, bathing, and checking up on you. You’d wake every so often to him parting your legs, checking to see if you were alright.

He thought nothing of it, just one of his duties as his mate to care for you. But you’d be quick to shove away his hand, mumbling to him not to look despite the coy smile on your face, all from knowing he cares that much.

When he finished the bottle, he was woozy enough to crawl back into bed with you and snuggle behind you. His eyes finally closing when the first rays of sunshine beam through the marui pod, the same rays that wake you up.

#you are the best #thank you for such a sweet reblog #I live for you #and ilysm

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officialaemondtargaryen · 5 months ago

Text

Dinner & Diatribes

❝i knew it from the first look of mischief in your eye.❞

Summary: You both swiped right and suddenly you're standing in a stranger's kitchen while he makes you spaghetti.

Pairing: Modern Aegon Targaryen x Reader

Word Count: 5.2k

Author’s Note: this might be the most self-indulgent fic i've ever written, so fair warning. also, thank you tom, who inspired this by saying that dinner & diatribes would be aegon's hozier song. it's just true. anyways, this was really fun to write.

Warnings: language, recreational drug use, alcohol use, fluff, intense sexual situations (including: oral sex - female receiving, sexual intercourse - p in v), just two single people who are horny, more fluff, aegon being so cute that i couldn't stop smiling the whole time i was writing this.

It was precisely 9:39 PM on a Tuesday.

You were sitting cross-legged on your couch, nose deep in a fresh murder mystery that you had been working through for the last two days. There was a lit joint between your fingers that you were nursing, taking little hits so that it wouldn’t completely burn out, and on the cushion next to you, your phone softly vibrates and lights up; a familiar icon flashes across the screen and you can easily make out the words, “It’s a Match” from the corner of your eye.

It’d been a regular occurrence since you had downloaded that accursed app.

You’d been single for far too long, according to your best friend, though you hadn’t really noticed. The sweet silence of a solitary life was something that you had enjoyed for the most part. It wasn’t even like your online dating life had really taken off, either. You’d get matches but hardly anyone would reach out in any way that made you feel like they were serious. They wanted your Snapchat username, or they were in an ‘open’ relationship or asking for a threesome, and one guy even asked if you would send him pictures of your feet. Even some of the ones you thought were serious about taking you out- or even just hooking up- would end up ghosting you before anything actually happened.

“It’s not supposed to be serious,” you could hear your friend’s words rattling around in your brain. You shake your head and focus once again on your book; they have a suspect, it’s the best friend! How fitting.

Once again, your phone lights up and vibrates. Not wanting to be distracted from the plot, you ignore your new match and get back to your mystery with anticipation; the best friend is about to confess. You go to take another hit of your joint and frown upon realizing it’s burnt out. As you move to grab your lighter, in comes another message, and another, and another. You stop what you’re doing and pick up your phone, swiping at the screen until you find the culprit. He’s known only as Aegon T, and according to the one sentence he has written on his profile, he has a dog. You swipe through his pictures- the dog is a golden retriever, the man looks like a golden retriever.

In the message thread, he’s basically talking to himself.

There’s four new messages waiting for you, while three little dots begin flashing at the bottom of the screen; disappearing and reappearing as you read what he’s already sent.

“So, I’m high.”

“And I am making spaghetti… and it’s really good.”

“At least I hope it’s really good, it could just be the weed…”

“I could use a taste-tester, if you’re up for it? I can’t pay you or anything, but it’s honest work 😏”

Aegon begins typing again and you watch the screen, a smirk on your lips. You are 99% sure that the spaghetti is truly an innuendo for what he really wants and have half a heart to just block him, but you watch as those little gray dots continue in the bottom left corner of the screen; he’s going back and forth with himself and you can’t help but find it oddly cute. Your fingers hover over the keyboard as you contemplate a witty response, but before you can even begin typing, he sends a fifth message.

“That was weird as fuck, right?”

Then a sixth.

“You probably don’t want to come over to some random guy’s house on a Tuesday.”

He finishes up with a seventh message.

“Unless you do…”

He almost sends an apology. After all, what's another message? He’s already fucked this whole thing up; not even giving himself a chance before he nose-dived. If he was being honest, he should just go ahead and delete his whole account; save you from secondhand embarrassment and save himself from repeating the same mistake again in the future. He sets the phone down on the kitchen counter and goes back to ripping bong hits to calm his nerves. Though, he’s unable to keep himself from checking his phone for a response; a response that likely wasn’t going to come and he’d spend the rest of his night feeling like a complete idiot.

Seven back-to-back messages should have screamed ‘red flag’, but you’re glancing at the clock as if you were seriously contemplating taking this stranger up on his offer. After all, you do have needs just as much as the next person. But, you’re wearing a sweatshirt and a pair of pajama shorts, your hair’s a mess, and you were covered in the crumbs of your munchie snacks. Meaning, you were nowhere close to being prepared for what was sure to happen between you and this random stoner offering you dinner.

Yet, you respond to him, “I could never turn down spaghetti”.

Aegon’s stirring the sauce when he gets your message. He’s instantly elated, thrusting a celebratory fist into the air. His fingers fly across the keyboard swiftly, sending another quick message, “Atta girl 🙃 My place is on the corner of 9th and 51st, above Jasper’s.”

“Be there soon,” you reply with haste.

It was apartment #4 and you made sure to text your friend the address, and given name of your potential murderer, and also share your location for her to keep an eye out. She says all you have to do is text her at any time if you need her to call and bail you out with a fake emergency. All she asks in return is for you to have fun and let her know if you are planning on spending the night- which was an idea that you weren’t opposed to, but it wasn’t something you were planning on.

You’re nervous as you stand outside of the door to his apartment, fist hovering for a moment. Now’s the time to make a fast exit- you haven’t met him, you could turn around right now and never meet him. You could wake up alive in the morning, safe in your own bed. Or, you can knock on the door and have what might be a really nice spaghetti dinner with a really nice guy. Hell, he could even be the love of your life and in fifty years you’ll both look back on this day and laugh about how you met on Tinder and how you were stupid enough to go to his house and not a public place.

Finally, you knock.

Aegon puts the lid back on his spaghetti sauce and shuffles into the living room. Sunfyre is on the couch with his ears perked; his tail’s wagging and he’s panting eagerly, waiting patiently to meet this new visitor. Aegon whispers over to him, “wish me luck,” and thinks to himself, please don’t be a catfish, please don’t be a catfish, please don’t be a catfish. He peers through the peephole when he approaches the door and there you are, a sigh of relief deflates his chest.

“Oh, thank God,” you can hear him say as the door swings open. His accent is surprisingly British. “You’re real.”

The very first thing that you notice are his eyes. They’re piercing; somehow blue and lavender at the same time– the color of a warm, summer sunrise and they’re crinkling at the edges as he smiles. He’s wearing a pair of dark gray sweats and a pale green hoodie, and the only word that comes to mind when you look at him is warmth. He’s somehow more attractive in person than he is in the pictures on his profile, which you didn’t think was possible, but he’s standing right in front of you and you can’t help but think to yourself, he doesn’t look like a murderer.

Then again, neither did Ted Bundy.

Aegon stands there for a moment, just staring at you, unable to do anything else. His words escape him, he can barely even breathe. You look exactly the same as your pictures; even without the makeup and even in the shitty, fluorescent overhead lights of the hallway. Even in a sweatshirt and pajama shorts, you’re stunning. He’s having a hard time believing that you actually showed up and he doesn’t realize that he’s been staring for much too long until you shrug back at him.

“Did you think I wasn’t?” You ask with creased brows and a lopsided smile.

The corners of his lips pull upwards as he looks at you, “I don’t know. You’re just so beautiful, I’m still not entirely convinced you aren’t some sort of hologram… or a robot.”

“Wow, you’re pretty smooth,” you say with a playful smirk, desperately trying to keep your composure— trying to play it cool, hoping that he hasn’t caught on to the fact that you’re secretly spiraling, because it took all of one smile and one compliment and you were done for. “But, I’ll have you know that flattery won’t work on me. I’m here for the spaghetti and the spaghetti alone.”

“My apologies,” Aegon says with a chuckle as he holds his hands up defensively. “Right this way, then.”

He steps to the side, allowing you to enter his apartment, and shuts the door behind you. It’s nice, clean, smells like fresh baked bread and tomato sauce. There’s niche artwork adorning the walls, he’s got candles burning, and there’s some lowkey, downtempo R&B playing softly in the background. He quickly moves past you and disappears into the kitchen, leaving you to follow him.

However, before you can take all of two steps into his apartment, a flash of golden fur is suddenly at your hip, pawing for attention. You drop down to a knee and happily accept any and all kisses from the pup. “Oh! Hi, what’s your name?”

Aegon sticks his head around the corner and says, “That is Sunfyre. In case you were wonderin’, he’s a very good judge of character and I will be consultin’ with him later where you’re concerned, fair warning.”

You roll your eyes and scratch behind Sunfyre’s ears, his tail thumps in approval.

“Would you like something to drink?” He continues and disappears back into the kitchen. “I’ve got wine and bottled water. Oh, and milk?” There’s a rustling in the kitchen before Aegon adds with a nervous chuckle, “scratch that, there is no milk.”

You politely excuse yourself from Sunfyre and step into the small dining room off of the kitchen.

There’s a grin on your lips, which you pursed so that he doesn’t think you’re laughing at him. Sunfyre joins the two of you and circles around his owner’s legs as Aegon empties an almost full half-gallon of milk down the drain. His kitchen is small but looks to be well used, which you appreciate. You know almost nothing about this man, other than his name- if ‘Aegon’ was even his real name- and the name of his dog, and yet here you were, standing in the threshold of his kitchen with a strange sense of comfortability as if you had been lifelong pals.

“Water is fine,” you tell him.

He produces a bottle of water from his fridge and tosses it over to you with ease and goes back to the stove. You step further into the kitchen, taking in your surroundings. The kitchen, like the living room, is covered in artwork and vintage decor- things you’d only find in some obscure thrift store or estate sale. On the refrigerator are a collection of magnets from different cities and countries, real touristy type shit. Some of them even had names on them; Alexander, Aaron, Alistair, Alan, Adolf.

Maybe these are the names of people he’s killed.

“You travel a lot?” You ask, trying to keep the conversation going.

“I try to,” he says from over his shoulder as he continues to stir the sauce. You can hear him set the lid back on the pot. “Most of those are from my sister, Helaena. She thinks it’s hilarious to give me magnets with random ‘A’ names since you’ll never find the name Aegon on any of those,” he says from behind you. He’s leaning against the counter with a half glass of wine. You quirk an eyebrow at him, not fully convinced. “She has a few from me that say Helen.”

“Is that her?” You ask, finger pointing to a pretty blonde in one of the many photographs he had pinned up.

He nods and takes a step closer to you. He’s so close that you can feel his warmth, smell his aftershave. The proximity causes you to blush and he smirks in response, leaning over your shoulder as he points to the other people in the pictures. “Those two are my little brothers, Aemond and Daeron,” he claims and then points to two women. “That’s my half-sister, Rhae, and next to her is my mother.”

“The redhead?” You ask surprised, given she didn’t look like she could be old enough to have four grown children. He nods and takes a step back, leaning against the counter with half-lidded eyes and a tipsy blush. “She looks like she could be your sister,” you say softly, turning back to glance at all of the faces; he seemed proud of his family, like they were very close.

You turn away from the fridge and lean against the counter at his side. It’s quiet for a moment, save for the music and the sound of boiling water where the noodles were cooking. You look at him and the corners of your lips can’t help but twist up into a shy smile, but you bite at the inside of your cheek out of nervous habit. He props himself up on his elbows, taking a sip of his wine, clearly comfortable with the silence.

“So,” you look up at him and his little smirk grows. “About the job…”

“Ah, yes,” he nods. “As I stated earlier, I won’t be able to pay you a monetary wage, but the position does come with a benefits package.”

“And what exactly would this benefits package include?” There’s an innocent flirtatiousness in your voice that only adds to the tension.

“Outside of the free gourmet meals that I would be providin’ to ya, which is obviously the most important part,” he smiles and steps to the side to grab a spoon from the drawer and holds it out to you. Your fingers softly close around his as you pluck the utensil from his grasp. He clears his throat to distract from the fact that he was visibly flustered from the slight touch. “There’s also unlimited cuddle sessions,” before he can finish, you shoot him a look. “With Sunfyre, of course! He’s the real boss ‘round here, after all.”

“Cuddling with the boss?” You quirk an eyebrow and look down at the golden retriever, his eyes round and gleaming; clearly waiting for a hand-out. “Sounds like a conflict of interest to me.”

“Well, if it’s a conflict of interest you’re worried about,” he counters quickly with a soft yet playful tone. “I s’pose we could renegotiate the terms of the agreement and you could have me instead.”

“I’m listening.”

“He might be better at cuddling for obvious reasons and he might be better lookin’,” Aegon continues. “But, I give better backrubs. I mean, I have thumbs and he don’t. You can’t give decent backrubs without thumbs, can you? Plus, he’s a sloppy kisser.”

“Oh, you’re really trying to sweeten the deal now, huh? Backrubs and kisses? I must admit, that is quite a compelling offer,” you muse. “It seems my decision hinders on whether or not you can actually cook, wouldn’t want to accept the position blindly, now would I?”

“Are ya doubtin’ my skills?” He asked playfully.

“No offense, but you possess the aura of someone who could fuck up a can of Spaghettios,” you tell him with a sincere smile. “So, forgive me if I don't get my hopes up.”

Aegon laughs and it’s a warm and infectious sound that fills the kitchen. It’s genuine, as is his perfect smile. You can’t seem to keep yourself from staring; eyes softly tracing every detail of his face– from his full, pink pout, to the scar above his right eyebrow, and the dimple of his chin– thinking to yourself that you’ve never seen a man more beautiful. His smile turns back into a smirk as he notices you staring at his lips and you look up to meet his eyes. There’s something about the way he looks at you that leaves you feeling vulnerable. His gaze softens as you look away, turning your attention back to the spaghetti sauce on the stove in front of you to distract yourself from the blush creeping up your neck.

There’s only one way this night ends.

It was obvious before you even left your house and it was certainly obvious now.

“Go on, then,” he prods, motioning to the pot on the stovetop.

His eyes are wide with anticipation as you dip into the simmering sauce, stirring it a few times before bringing the spoon to your lips. He’s nervous; it’s his mother’s recipe– one he’s spent years perfecting– but with his luck, you will most likely think it’s steaming garbage. Yet, he watches intently; holding his breath as your perfect lips curl to blow softly, cooling the sauce before you finally taste it.

The moment the spoon touches your tongue, you're determined to remain impartial. After all, you’ve had your fair share of disappointing meals from men who’ve claimed to be great cooks. Aegon certainly could be the very latest and you wouldn’t be at all surprised. So, you keep your expectations low, and try your hardest to remain stoic, but as the flavors begin to unfold, you can feel your resolve wavering.

It’s good. Better than most.

Reluctantly, you have to admit that this is the second-best sauce you’ve ever had, right after your grandmother’s. You glance up at Aegon, who’s watching you with a mix of anxiety and hope, and you can’t help but smile.

“I have to give it to you,” you say, your voice betraying a hint of admiration. “This is incredible. Almost as good as my grandmother’s.”

The relief and pride that spread across his face makes your heart flutter.

“Yeah?” He asks with a toothy grin.

“I’m still not completely convinced that you can actually cook, but you can– at the very least– make some top-notch spaghetti sauce,” you tell him as you place your spoon to the side.

“Top-notch, eh?” He asks playfully as he begins plating your meal. “I’ll take it.”

“Don’t let it get to your head,” you say to him with a laugh. “It’s just spaghetti sauce.”

“Just spaghetti sauce? Don’t let my mum hear you say that,” he says with a smirk, setting a full plate in front of you on the counter. “I guess I’ll just have to work extra hard on the next one.”

“Assuming there will be a next one,” you reply, tone dripping with playful sarcasm. “Though, you have set the bar pretty high tonight. I’m sure you’ll be fine.”

“Well,” he murmurs as he steps closer, his body brushing against yours as he reaches around you to grab a plate. His lips are hovering above the shell of your ear, his voice low and teasing, causing your cheeks to immediately flush as the heat between the two of you intensifies. “I’m nothing if not a perfectionist.”

For a split second you expect for him to lean in for a kiss. Your heart is simultaneously skipping beats and racing at the same time; your breath catching in your throat as he leans in— But then he smirks, grabbing the plate and taking a step backwards. He’s doing it on purpose, you realize; his proximity expertly calculated to keep you on edge. You look up at him with wide, sparkling eyes and he knows he’s got you right where he wants you. The soft blush of your cheeks has his blood pumping and sends a surge of adrenaline through him. He’s trying his absolute best to play it cool but the way you’re biting your lip and looking at him has him unraveling.

“Is that so?” You ask, raising an eyebrow. “What other skills do you have up your sleeve?”

His grin widens as he looks down at you, setting his empty plate to the side. His gaze, once again, drops to your lips. “I have a few tricks,” he says softly, his voice filled with promise. “But I doubt you’d believe me if I told you, so how about I just show you?”

“What?” You ask with a playful innocence. “Before dinner?”

“I’m not really in the mood for spaghetti anymore.”

“Oh?” Your smirk is only growing. “What are you in the mood for?”

Aegon says nothing, but a confident grin tugs at the corners of his lips as he rests his hands on your hips. He doesn’t hesitate to pull you in by the waist, until you’re pressed against him and his lips are on yours. The kiss is both gentle and urgent and a little bit awkward, as any first kiss should be. You felt like a teenager again, kissing a boy for the first time– butterflies in your stomach and all.

It takes no time at all for you to find your rhythm with him, and he deepens the kiss, pushing you up onto the kitchen counter to meet his height. Your arms naturally drape across his shoulders, your legs wrap around his middle. He’s completely taken over your mind, filling up every tiny space that he can fit into; the smell of his cologne, the scratch of his stubble against your skin, the feeling of his hands squeezing the flesh of your thighs– his fingertips teasing just underneath the hem of your shorts.

Breathless, he pulls away from you as he pulls your sweatshirt over your head. He stops for a moment to take in the sight of you; clad only in your bra and shorts, lips red and blotchy, swollen and full. You’re looking up at him from under your lashes, softly biting your bottom lip as you wait for him to continue. He gently lifts his hand up to your cheek and traces the curve of your cupid’s bow with his thumb, providing one last show of tenderness before he leans in to capture your lips in another searing kiss.

His touch is suddenly rushed; spreading a wildfire across your skin in the wake of his lips as he rips off the remainder of your clothes. It doesn’t take long at all before you’re sitting exposed on his kitchen counter in only a thong, blushing wildly and covering your face with your hands.

“No– no hiding,” he clicks his tongue and pulls your hands away from your face. “I want to see you.”

He whispers a string of profanities and compliments as his starving eyes roam your figure. Self-doubt creeps into your mind and you momentarily consider making a quick exit, convinced he won’t like what he sees, but the way he’s looking at you makes you feel desired in a way you haven’t felt in a long time.

Aegon’s gaze is electrifying and intense, drawing you in and silencing your negative thoughts instantly. His hands pull you in by the waist, sliding you to the edge of the counter as his lips work their way down your chin and neck; leaving a trail of red marks down to your chest. He hums, smirking as he takes one of your breasts in his mouth. His hand kneads the other, rolling your hardened nipple between two fingers. Your head falls back, lips parted slightly as you breathe out his name.

Each sound he elicits from you urges him on even further until he’s on one knee, looking up at you from his position with those pretty eyes. He runs a hand up the back of your calf, softly teasing you with his fingertips before tossing your leg over his shoulder. You knew where he was going, and yet, you were still surprised as he began placing open mouthed kisses on the inside of your thighs; shivering in anticipation as goosebumps formed on your skin.

“You’re so wet,” he says proudly, praising you.

His eyes are locked with yours as his fingers delicately smooth over your clothed clit. He hooks a finger around the dampened cotton and pulls your thong to the side, groaning at the sight of your perfect pussy. Without wasting another second, Aegon’s mouth is suddenly on you and your hands immediately find the back of his head; fingers curling into the roots of his silver hair.

You roll your hips against his tongue, cursing out as your legs begin to shake. He moans, face still buried deep in you and the vibrations have you writhing. Both of his arms are wrapped around your thighs now, holding you tight to him, not letting up for even a second. Then he stands, lifting you up onto his shoulders. You squeal in shock, holding onto him tightly, but he doesn’t stop; he continues to devour you as he blindly carries you towards his bedroom.

When his knees hit the side of his bed, he tosses you back onto the mattress.

You prop yourself up on your elbows and watch as he strips out of his clothes. . You can see the outline of his arousal; prominent and pressing firmly against the fabric of his sweats. You bite your lip at the sight and he smirks as he catches your stare. His movements are unhurried, giving you ample time to appreciate the sight before you. His hoodie and shirt come off first, then his sweats, and you can’t help but notice the way that his muscles flex with each motion. He’s not overly built, but there’s a solid strength in his frame that is evident in the way he moves.

Outside, headlights from passing cars cast streaks of light and shadows across the walls of his room. It’s quiet, the music in the other room has stopped playing and all you can hear is the sound of your own heart beating in your ears. You swallow thickly, encompassed by the tension of the moment as he crawls up the length of your body; placing tender kisses along your skin. His lips leave a trail of warmth, each touch igniting a spark that travels through your entire body.

When he reaches your face, he pauses, his breath mingling with yours as he hovers just inches away. The anticipation builds, thick and electric in the air between you. His lips find yours in a kiss that starts slow and tender but quickly deepens; fingers threading through your hair as he pulls you closer, his body pressing yours deeper into the plush mattress. Your hands explore his back, tracing the contours of his muscles, feeling the tension and strength beneath his skin and coming to rest on his shoulders; gripping tightly as he continues to worship your body with his mouth. Each kiss, each touch, is deliberate, heightening your senses and pulling you further into the moment.

You curse at the feeling of his girth against your entrance. Your hand moves up to the back of his neck, pulling him down to meet your lips as he presses slowly into you.

“Oh fuck,” he whimpers into the crook of your neck as his arms become weak.

He knows that he won’t last like this; it’s been a while and you feel way too good. He’s slow at first, wanting to steady himself and maintain control, but his rhythm picks up quickly; hips moving with an unrelenting rhythm, each thrust bringing you both closer to the edge. You can feel his muscles tense, his grip on you tightening as he buries his face in your neck. His moans are a mix of pleasure and desperation, and you can tell he’s fighting to hold back.

You tighten your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper, feeling the overwhelming need to reach that peak together. His pace quickens, the tension in his body building to a breaking point. You feel the same pressure inside of you mounting before it’s suddenly crashing over you like a wave. He follows seconds later, a low groan escaping his lips as he spills into you. The intensity of the moment leaves you both breathless and clinging to each other, bathing in the afterglow.

“That was incredible,” he murmurs against your skin, head pressed to your chest as you stroke his hair softly. His eyes flutter shut as he listens to the sounds of your heartbeat.

You hum in agreement, smiling to yourself as you savor the peacefulness of the moment.

Suddenly, you’re joined by Sunfyre jumping up on the bed, his tail wagging enthusiastically. You smile at him and pat the empty space next to you, inviting him to join your cuddle session. He eagerly accepts the invitation, circling the bed a few times before snuggling up next to you. Aegon lifts his head and smiles, clearly pleased that you would be so open to having the dog in bed with you. He wraps his arm around both you and Sunfyre, pulling you closer.

“This is perfect,” he says softly, his voice filled with contentment as he lays his head back on your chest.

"So, about that job offer," you say playfully, your fingers tracing patterns along his skin. "I think I'll accept the position. When would you like for me to start?"

He lifts his head to look at you, a playful glint in his eyes. “How about tomorrow night at seven?”

Before you can respond, a distinct burning smell reaches your nose. Your brows furrow as you sniff the air. “Do you smell that?”

Aegon’s eyes widen in realization. “The spaghetti!”

He jumps up from the bed, pulling on his clothes quickly, and scrambles into the kitchen. You follow behind him, tossing one of his t-shirts over your head and meet him in the kitchen.

“I guess I forgot to turn off the burner,” Aegon looks disappointed but then chuckles, shaking his head. He looks at you with a glint in his eye and smirks. “Occupational hazard, I guess.”

“Oh, that sucks!” You laugh, playfully nudging him. “Is it too late to back out of the job now?”

“Way too late for that,” he says as he pulls you into a soft kiss, silencing any doubts immediately. “You’re mine now.”

“Mm,” you hum against his lips. “But I came here for the spaghetti.”

He chuckles and pulls back slightly. “Will you settle for pizza?”

“I’ll settle for anything, as long as it’s with you,” you say with a smile as you wrap your arms around his waist. “And as long as there’s extra cheese!”

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