Chapter Text
There was this scent.
Lo‘ak hasn't stumbled in the forest in years, not since his first steps on the soil, not since long training days with dad, reading tracks and hunting lessons with mum and lanky limbs that have by now grown into board muscles and lean flesh.
Any awkwardness had fled when he had completed his iknimaya, the one with his people and then again, with the metkayina during his families stay at the sea clan. Now, at twenty-eight, every step is predicted. Calculated. Steady. He still knows these forests like the back of his hand.
Despite that, he feels as though he should be stumbling, running into branches, tripping over obscured rocks. The pounding of his heart and the adrenaline he can taste in the back of his throat tell him so. Lo‘ak didn't need a trail on the ground to follow, which was good, because whatever it was that had left this scent hanging in the air hadn’t left one. He didn't need splatters of blood, the sight of terror or the remains of a fight, not even boot prints in the dead leaves. No, he could smell it from miles away. Like a distinct call for his name that only he could hear.
He was under no illusions about who was the hunter and who the prey. Every instinct told him to run like hell and catch this- this thing, this prey, that smelled so sweetly, it felt like his teeth would begin to rot any minute now. His tongue curls over his fangs. They’re itching to be rammed into something and bite. Claim. And Lo‘ak feels so animalistic, so feral. His nose twitches, scenting the air once again.
He finally comes to an halt by a clearing, surrounded by tall trees with overgrown branches and thick leaves that cast various shadows over the mossy ground, leaving most of it covered from the warmth of the sun. Lo‘ak inhales shakily, heart still beating a foreign rhythm inside his chest that makes him clutch his fist against it to calm himself.
It’s so silent here, it fills him with unease. The forest is never that quiet, unless there is danger close by that the great mother is trying to bring to his attention. His ears turn against the soft breeze of the wind, focusing. There’s nothing. Nothing, but the soft hum that is coming from a few feet ahead. The sound of something, or someone, breathing. Low and steady, oblivious to the hunter in close proximity.
Bow in hand, Lo‘ak crouches low to the ground.
The first thing Lo‘ak remembers being taught by his father was how to be quiet. To be a stealthy warrior. A quiet hunter.
Looking back, he knows that must’ve been his first lesson solely for the reason because he has always been a talkative kid. Even now as an adult, silence doesn’t come to him as it comes to his older brother when needed. Countless slaps to the back of his head had been served as a reminder to bite his tongue. Even now, Lo’ak has to focus and concentrate in order to be quiet.
Any good hunter knows how to follow tracks, stay downward of the winds. The element of surprise was their best asset. Sometimes all they find are sun-bleached bones, offering little clue to potential prey. So they continue on. Taught to be patient, careful and quiet.
But Lo‘ak doesn’t have to be patient for very long this time. He doesn’t even have to search the ground for tracks or listen to the whispers of the wind. He finds his prey right there, served on a silver platter, laying in the soft grass like an offering from Eywa herself.
A human. All soft skin and short limbs.
Spellbound to the sight in front of him, Lo‘ak doesn’t pay attention to the stick he involuntarily steps on and it breaks with an echoing crack. He winces at the sound that would’ve earned him a smack if his brother was anywhere near him right now, but the human in front of him doesn’t raise from its position. Is it sleeping?
Lo‘ak remains frozen in place until his very fingertips begin to tingle in anticipation and he can’t help himself anymore. He steps closer. Close enough to come to realize that the human is a female and she is unconscious. He crouches down next to her limp body, so much smaller than his own that it frightens him to think that she is all alone out here, seemingly unprotected to the possible danger that lingers in the forest.
Lo’ak studies the woman for a long moment, hesitant at first, but soon he can’t stop his hand from moving to carefully brush the hair obscuring her face out of the way. And what a sight it is that greets him.
Behind the glass of her mask is a face so pretty, his breath momentarily gets stuck in his throat.
An angel. That’s what comes closest to a word that could describe her. Lo‘ak remembers his fathers stories of angels and suddenly, she is the missing piece to the puzzle in his imagination. She his what his mind has always failed to comprehend when imagining these mythical creatures from earth.
The woman's face is delicately structured, with high cheekbones and soft skin. Her lips are plump and softly shaped, slightly parted as she exhales a breath. Her features are harmoniously balanced, with a gentle curve to her jawline that adds to her overall beauty. The contours of her face are accentuated by the dappled sunlight filtering through the trees, casting a serene glow. Her brows are naturally arched, framing her closed eyes, which seem to hold a depth of emotion even in slumber. There is something ethereal to her appearance, as if she is a part of the forest itself, an enchanting presence amidst the foliage. Truly, such beauty could only be created by eywa herself. And it felt like finding her here was like a gift from the great mother. A reward of some sort, possibly.
Lo‘ak would’ve loved to admire her for longer, just sitting here, looking at the strange little female. But there was this scent. There had to be reason for no one to have scented her other than him. She was meant to be found by him, he declared. The great mother had gifted her to him and no one else. And this scent was so much stronger now that he was up close to her, the tang of sweetness strong enough he could almost taste it on his tongue. Almost. And that alone made his mouth water in anticipation.
He wanted to taste her. To claim her. Her body called for him and who was he to ignore this call?
The muscles beneath his tattooed arms flexed as he carefully moved his body to shift position, leaning down over her unconscious body to press his nose to the soft curls and strands of hair framing her face like a halo. The subconscious flinch her body gave when his breath fanned over her skin did little to quell his delight when he ran his hand over her rounded shoulder and discovered she was smoother than any surface he'd ever touched and was silky like that of a flower petal. And she smelled delicious, but this was not quite the scent he was looking for. Running the flat of his nose along her jaw and throat, he inhaled deeply searching for the source of it. Her skin was so warm to the touch, he may or may not have let his lips glide along her collarbone as he took her scent in. Not quite a kiss yet, but close enough. Just the barest of touches that made his skin tingle.
He couldn’t deny the fact that the thin material of the black top that clung to her body like a second layer of skin was as much a treat to his eyes as it was an annoyance. If he had any say in this, the little tawtute [human] would wear significantly less. Still, it left enough room to his filthy imagination that he didn’t mind it. For now. There would be enough time for him to unwrap this piece of candy any time soon. For now, Lo‘ak settled on the one place on her body that was radiating so much sweetness, it nearly made his mind go blank from the intensity.
Soft thighs, the softest he has ever felt beneath his palms laid there in front of him, spreading so easily for him to settle between as his nose passed the dip of her navel. With both of them in his hands, he could spread them to press his whole face against the rough fabric of her little green shorts that barely hid her from his hungry eyes. Inhaling deeply, it nearly made his heart jump out of his chest as this pure sweet scent hit his nostrils and filled every vein of his body with adrenaline and the urge to lick, taste, bite, kiss and fuck.
Mine, mine, mine, his inner voice yelled at him. Mate her. Knot her.
Soon, he thought to himself, as he licked his lips eagerly. But first, he would have to still his hunger or he fears he would loose himself right then and there.
With what little sanity was left in him, Lo‘ak couldn’t find the patience necessary to undress her properly, so he unsheathed his knife from his chest and ever so carefully slid it inside the front her shorts. The sound of fabric ripping apart at the seam as he cut it in half made goosebumps raise all over his arms.
The little female however didn’t even flinch. Still so deep in her slumber. He might need to find out about the reason she was unconscious, but that would have to wait until later. Right now, all his senses were entirely fixed on his most priced possession.
Eywa, that scent. It was so intoxicating.
Even better yet, was the sight in front of him. What a pretty, pretty pussy that was, he thought. Red and puffy and in need for someone, for him, to take care of it. Poor thing. How long must she have been waiting for him? Her slick was messily spread over those gleaming lips and Lo‘ak spread them apart with his thumbs to get a better view.
"Aw, nìn nga [Aw, look at you]," he murmurs, "Fìtxan sevin sì tumpin [All pretty and pink.]
Her tiny little hole leaks more clear, sticky fluid as it’s spread open and drool dares to spill over the corner of his mouth at this. Truth be told, it looked barely able to fit his finger, but the thought alone made his cock unsheat and harden to his full size below his loincloth. She would need a lot of patience and preparation, but if Lo‘ak was one thing, it was determined to fulfill his goals. Just a small glance above her entrance sits her clit, the small nub looks just as needy and is just begging for his attention.
No longer able to withstand the arousing scent of the tawtute, Lo‘ak finally, mercifully, gives his first kitten lick to her cunt. And great mother, she tastes delicious. Tongue sharp and pointed, he glides the wet muscle through her folds with a groan. He takes great pleasure in the way the small little metal ball that sits on the middle of his tongue runs from her entrance to her clit, where it sits perfectly on top, before he closes his lips around it and bestows her her first kiss.
Lo‘ak had gotten several body modifications over the past few years of his life. The tattoos were his first, made by the olo’eyktan Tonowari himself after successfully mouting a tsurak. Followed soon by the tunnel earrings that were inspired by his mothers and then the piercings on his ears made by some of the younger humans at hells gate. The one on his tongue was Spiders idea and even though it earned him pointed looks of his people at first, not even the most uptight na‘vi woman his age could resist her curiosity of the little metal ball and how it might possibly feel as he ran it over her most sensitive parts. He would have to thank his human brother forever for this. And he can tell that she likes it, too.
The metal ball adjusts to her body heat quickly, prickling on top of his tongue as Lo‘ak makes it circle and bump against her clit. This motion rewards him with the first sound of what could soon turn into a beautiful moan. For now, it’s a breathy little sigh, with her brows drawn together and the muscles in her thighs tensing and jumping slightly.
Oh, she likes it very much, he can tell.
Lo‘ak presses his face harder against her cunt until all he can taste and smell is her. Her juices are already running down his chin, yet he can’t get enough of her. The difference in size makes it easy for his tongue to reach all these wonderful, delicious spots inside of her. He curls and thrusts it until the females back arches off the ground. A guttural groan escapes him as he kisses and licks her clit, loving the way she responds more and more to his touch.
Glancing up, Lo‘ak catches the way her breathing seems to quicken, the way her soft stomach tenses and the noises falling from her parted lips increase in volume. The first real moan tumbling down those beautiful lips is like music to his ears and he nearly comes inside his loincloth from the sound of it. What a beautiful voice that little demon has. Soft and feminine and so full of need. He wants to hear her beg in that sweet tone. Wants to hear her call out to him. Wants to hear moans turn into screams of pleasure that will make her voice go hoarse.
"Kalin 'u. Oe fpìl tsal lu krr ne tìtxen si [Sweet thing. I think it’s time to wake up]," he purrs against her sensitive skin, watching the way she instinctively jumps as his warm breath fans over her spit slicked skin. His tongue darts out again, but this time he aims for the pillowy flesh of her inner thighs. He licks a board stripe over her skin, kissing until it turns a pretty hue of purple that matches the shade of his tip, which was currently oozing heavy droplets of pre-cum onto his tewng [loincloth]. Eyes so heavy with lust, he can’t stop himself from letting his kisses turn more feral. Open mouthed and wet, until his fangs graze her delicate skin and sink into her flesh.
His cock throbs heavily at the first claim set onto the small tawtute [human] female. It’s followed by another, and another. Lo‘aks is careful, though, to not break skin and draw blood. He could never forgive himself for hurting the fragile human. Once he deems her marked enough, he switches back to burring his face against her sweet cunt. He‘s more frantic this time, groaning and breathing heavily as he suckles on her folds and makes out with her clit until its swollen and puffy between his lips.
Behind him, his tail trashes vividly against the mossy ground, eager like a puppy waiting for a treat. He wants her cum. Wants to know how it taste. How it feels soaking his face. He want to make a mess, wants to let the little demon claim him as well. He wants everyone to smell her on him and know they belong together.
The intense tension of her muscles is the first sign of her approaching orgasm that Lo‘ak takes note of, so he doubles his efforts. Her body craves release and he will happily give it to her. But then she turns restless. Squirmy little thing begins to wriggle under his touch, hips jerking away from the assault of his tongue and he grunts in disapproval.
But she‘s so small, easy to hold down. His shoulders are enough to keep her thichs spread and folded, knees nearly touching her ears as her lower body is contained by his massive frame. He holds her wrists tight above her head in one hand before she can even claw and push at him. Tiny wrists. Bones like a bird's.
And then finally, her eyes flutter open.
Lo‘ak watches with the intensity of a predator catching sight of his prey how these pretty pupils slowly focus down on him. The human gasps and he grins, wide and dangerous.
Suddenly she’s making these new sounds, little high pitched noises and whines, as he tongue fucks her. Her head turns, left and right, trying to hide her face from him, but there’s nowhere to hide. Precious thing. He can feel her core clenching hard around nothing.
"My name is Lo’ak," he smirks at her from between her thighs, making her flinch despite the soft tone in his voice and the breath stutter in her throat. "Can you say Lo’ak, baby?" Lick after lick he spoke, making sure to bring pleasure to her as she tried to comprehend his words. Her mind must be a mess, that much was obvious to him. Even though he imagined waking up like this from such a deep slumber must be a nice surprise, he could clearly see her inner turmoil. Her body wanted her to enjoy this, so close to her pleasure high. But her brain, the logical thinking part of it, was struggling to figure out if she could trust him. If this was right.
"Lo‘ak," he repeated, soft and slow and lovingly as he kissed her clit. More tenderly this time to put her whole focus onto this task. "Say Lo’ak, come on. Say my name."
He would make sure she knew she could trust him. That she was safe. But this would need so many words and so much reassurance, it was hard to do it now with his mouth full of her. Later, paskalin [honey]. He will prove himself as a good man later. But he had to prove himself as a good mate right now.
After a moment of intensely staring into her eyes to make sure she understood him, to signal her that he was no threat and she could enjoy this to her hearts content, it finally clicked.
"Lo..ak," she whimpered, the finest sound his ears ever had the pleasure of picking up. Nodding eagerly with a moan, Lo‘aks tail curled tight around her ankle as he sucked a filthy, rewarding kiss to her clit that made her throw her head back in bliss.
"What a good girl you are," he purred into her folds, "Such a smart thing."
She could tell him her name later, he thought. For the moment, it wasn’t important. He just needed her to scream his and he would promise her, the next time he would scream hers for the whole world to hear. Let everyone know what a perfect little pussy she had and that it was all his now.
Heart beating rapidly in his chest, Lo‘ak doubled his efforts to push her over the edge. Putting more pressure on her thighs to keep them further apart, he leaned half his weight against her body to keep her pinned and folded, her head now entirely framed by her knees, with her weight balanced on her upper back and her pussy high up in the air to reach all the spots that made her hips jump and legs shake. As he did so, Lo‘ak took a mental note of her flexibility. He would make great use of this in the future.
Aware of every new twitch and shudder, Lo’ak was adjusting the patterns of his tongue accordingly.
He was sucking and licking so hard, made sure to hold straight eye contact with her, who was having a hard time keeping herself from moaning too loud. He was running the tip of his tongue along the creases of flesh, around and back down, dipping into her, and then returning to press against her clit, playing with the tiny ball of steel against that sensitive little nub. Her slickness was coating more than just his mouth now. His nose too and his chin, threatening to run down his throat. Lo‘ak was entirely lost in her taste, feasting on her as if she was a fruit he had grown addicted to.
"S-Shit," she was cursing through clenched teeth, eyes squeezed shut as her whole body began to tense beneath him. "Fuck, I’m- I’m gonna– come!"
A low, throaty groan that nearly sound like a growl broke free from his mouth at the sound of that. "Let go, sevin [pretty]," he reassured her, barely lifting his lips enough to detach from her clit. "Come for me, little tawtute [human]. Let me taste it."
It was heat against heat, hot mouth against hotter skin, and then she throws her head back and sobs with relief. His sharp tongue flicks over her clit a final time, and she breaks into a thousand pieces.
Noisy little demon, he muses with a grin, paying close attention to the way she screeches and screams his name, moans loud and shameless and her clit pulses under his tongue. He presses his mouth closer to her, making sure none of that sweet sticky liquid goes to waste as it leaks in little squirts from her tiny hole. She tastes devine and Lo‘ak closes his eyes and groans as he savors it all.
Like a Nantang [viperwolf] cleaning its pup, Lo‘ak makes sure to clean the tawtute [human] of all remaining spit and slick, showering her lower half in kitten licks until he deems her clean enough and finally manages to detach his mouth from the space between her thighs.
Breathing heavily, he pulls back, letting a hand glide down his rapidly raising and falling chest, skimping over his abs, to locate the throbbing pain between his own thighs he only now grows aware of.
"Kalweyaveng… [son of a bitch]," he curses under his breath. He finds his loincloth soaked with his own cum, yet his neglected cock was still standing proud and tall, eager for attention. Giving his own length a quick squeeze, he hisses through clenched teeth. He needed more. More of her and her delicious little cunt. The arousing scent that was still radiating off of her wasn’t helping with that either.
Leaning back on his heels to sit up straight and gently lowering her legs to the ground again, Lo’ak glanced down at the female‘s face to find her lashes kissing the apple of her cheeks. Passed out again.
That’s okay, he thought, unable to wipe the cocky smile from his face, as he ever so carefully scooped the sleeping human up into his arms. "Sleep well," he cooed in her ear, hoping that even deep in her slumber she would be able to hear him, would feel the way he pressed his clothed cock against her as he carried her away. "There’s enough time for this later, ma’muntxate [my mate]. You’re mine now."