─ ❛𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧 𝐌𝐞 𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐃𝐨𝐞𝐬𝐧'𝐭 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡 𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐘𝐨𝐮❜
➳ 𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 | Jake Sully x Fem Human!Reader
➳ 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | Na’vi instincts were different, more primal and direct. Jake could handle them, he had to handle them. And maybe he actually could've, but there you were. He never was very good at denying himself where you were concerned.
➳ 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 11,034
➳ 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | Mature Content-Explicit Descriptions Of Sex | Inter-species relationship, Primal/instinctual behavior, Possessive undertones, Slight power imbalance, Forbidden romance themes, Smut: Size Kink, Biting/marking, Dirty talk, PIV sex, Oral(fem! receiving), Glowing cum(Cuz you know...alien), Slight manhandling.
➳ 𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞 | Nobody look at me! Just read it okay?🫣 Can Na’vi breathe the same air as humans? They can in this fic! Set during the first movie.
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THE QUIET HUM OF THE LAB HAD ALWAYS BEEN STRANGELY COMFORTING. Fans whirring, terminals blinking, and the faint hiss of the air filtration system cycling in a steady rhythm. You’d grown up in that soundscape, more familiar with recycled air and humming machinery than with the fickle music of wind through leaves. Still, you learned to love the glimpses of Pandora outside the thick glass of Hell’s Gate. The way the forest seemed to pulse with a soul all its own.
The microscope's lens glinted under the lab’s sterile lights as you adjusted it, tracing the intricate network of veins in the sample you’d been left to catalog. A small, satisfied sound hummed from your throat as the image swam into perfect focus. The kind of pleased noise that came when everything finally aligned after so much squinting.
There’s a sudden sigh of the hydraulic door that pulls you out of the work induced trance.
Jake filled the doorway like a shadow born of blue light. His broad shoulders bowed just enough to clear the frame, azure skin beaded with the sheen of Pandora’s humidity. The refined air shifted with his entrance, bringing with it the green-sharp scent of wet leaves and the loamy breath of the forest floor. In one of his hands, a specimen bag dangled by its strings.
“Hey, little Augustine," he greeted, voice pitched deep enough that it seemed to hum through your ribs. “Got that flower you wanted.”
You looked up, eyes wide, and your lips broke into a grin. “You actually found it?”
Of course he had. Jake had this habit, this annoyingly thoughtful habit, of bringing you little pieces of Pandora whenever he came back from the forest. Sometimes it was a rock with strange mineral striations, sometimes a leaf with colors you’d never seen before. You’d jokingly asked him about fetching you a particular flower called a Sun Lily, or tsawksyul to the natives, for your project. You half-expected him to forget. But he didn’t.
“You bet,” he answered, ears tipping back, angled with some emotion you couldn’t decipher. He stepped forward in that calm, rolling gait, setting the bag down on your workstation with an ease that disagreed with the restless sway of his tail behind him.
You looked away from his studying gaze to open the bag. Inside, the plant’s leaves shimmered faintly. The iridescent purple hue glowing like threads of moonlight.
“Where’s your mom?” He asked, trying to sound nonchalant as he glanced around the lab.
“In the greenhouse,” you said, still focused on the delicate patterns of the flower. “Why?”
Jake’s mouth quirked up like he had a secret he was dying to tell you. “Not exactly supposed to be in here like this,” he admitted, gesturing vaguely to the long length of himself. “She catches me, I’m in for it.”
You glance up again, meaning to tease him, but the look in his eyes makes you pause. He was watching you in that honed in, too-quiet way, as though you were something both dangerous and delicate. Something he wasn’t meant to touch, but he wanted to anyway.
You couldn’t decide if you were imagining it or not. You and Jake messed with each other, sure. Teasing, stealing one another’s snacks, occasionally incurring your mom’s wrath when she caught you both slacking off. That was normal; something friends did. But lately… lately things have changed. You’d been finding yourself noticing the slope of his shoulders in his avatar body, the way he moved with the kind of grace taught by the forest. More than once you had tried counting the little bioluminescent freckles on his face.
So when he looked at you like that? Definitely was not helping.
Human Jake was somewhat closed off, hard to analyze the way your scientist’s brain begged to. But avatar Jake was easier to read by a landslide. There was the flick of his ears, pulling back before angling forward again. The restless curl and uncurl of his tail. The slow sweep of his tongue along his teeth, catching slightly on the sharper points of his canines.
Truthfully, you were thankful that avatar Jake was hardly around. You’d never get any work done if all you did was stare at him.
“You’re… fidgety,” you said, curiosity outweighing caution.
His gaze sharpened for a heartbeat, then softened. “Just got a lotta energy right now. Neytiri’s been putting me through the ringer.”
You were about to press him—to ask what that meant—when he cleared his throat. His golden eyes darted to the side as if to shake off whatever was wrong with him. You didn’t quite believe the excuse, but before you could question him, his hands landed suddenly on the neck of your microscope.
“Jake!” The word burst out of you as he slid it across the table toward himself, the metal feet scraping faintly against the counter. Your gloved hands shot forward to stop him, but he brushed them aside with a light, almost teasing flick of his wrist.
“Whatcha working on,” he said, not a question so much as a quiet command to know.
You jumped as you felt the brush of his tail on the backs of your thighs as he bent, closing the space between you in small, deliberate increments. There was something creeping in the movements, like a predator hunting prey.
That’s sort of what he was now, in this body, a hunter. Na’vi were skilled huntsmen and women, and Jake’s avatar possessed all the attributes that made the Na’vi formidable. That fact made your chest tighten in a way that had nothing to do with fear.
Your eyes followed him carefully, and still, a sharp inhale escaped you when his palms pressed to the counter, caging you between the table and his towering form. Your shoulders hovered dangerously close to brushing the firm line of his navel.
Then came the curve of his tail again, sweeping down until it hooked lightly around your ankle. The pressure of it was gentle but inescapable. As if he had every right to do it, and he thought—knew—you wouldn’t protest.
“Hey—” You admonished him, though your voice came out thinner than you’d intended. You wiggled around as best you could, trying to find his face. “What is with you today?”
Jake grinned at your question, the kind of lopsided smirk that said he had no intention of answering it honestly. “C’mon,” he coaxed, leaning in so his shadow spilled over you and the counter. “Teach me something about all this science you lock yourself up with all day.”
You let out a shaky laugh, not quite able to disguise the edge of nerves. “I’m not a teacher, Jake. I’m a student,” you reminded him. “I’m still learning myself.”
“Then show me what you’ve learned,” he pressed, his voice low and warm in a way that seemed to bypass your ears and settle somewhere in your chest.
You duck your head, fussing with the microscope as if that could break the intensity of his gaze. “You wouldn’t find it interesting,” you insisted. “It’s just cataloging leaf vein patterns and pigmentation analysis. It’s very boring.”
“I’ll be the judge of that,” he said, leaning closer until you could feel the faint heat radiating off him, the scent of rain-soaked foliage clinging to his skin. His tail loosened around your ankle only to curl there again, a slow, deliberate movement that made your stomach flip.
Friends didn’t act like this. You didn’t stand there with your pulse racing over some guy you traded sarcastic jabs with in the mess hall. But it was Jake. Which meant the rule you’d made for yourself about keeping things simple didn’t seem to matter much anymore.
Your laugh this time was softer, a little breathless. “Jake…” You shook your head, your smile faltering, but your pulse was thrumming. “Don’t you have anything better to do?”
His grin widened. “You’re extra grouchy today.”
You scoffed, though your voice wavered under the weight of his nearness. “That’s because my mom dumped a mountain of work on me this morning.” You gave the microscope a pointed little nudge, as though the sheer existence of your task list might physically push him back. “And, in case you forgot, you’re not even supposed to be in here like this.”
His ears flicked at that, but he didn’t move away. “So? You gonna kick me out, pretty?”
“I should,” you shot back with words that lacked enough bite. It was hard to sound authoritative when he spoke to you like that; called you things like that. Especially with the shadow of his hands draped over yours, dwarfing them with their sheer size. And when every exhale of his smelled faintly of sun-warmed leaves and damp bark.
Jake tilted his head, gaze sliding over your face in a way that made you feel like the one under a microscope. “Then do it,” he challenged softly.
You opened your mouth—ready to tell him to knock it off—but the hiss of the hydraulic door split the air before you could.
The shift in air pressure was immediate; the sterile current of the lab was replaced with the faint tang of greenhouse humidity. You didn’t have to turn to know who it was. The crisp, purposeful cadence of your mother’s boots on the metal floor was unmistakable.
Jake straightened a fraction, but not enough to put any respectable distance between the two of you. His hands stayed planted on the counter, his tail still loosely coiled at your ankle like he was daring her to notice.
“Well, isn’t this interesting.” Grace Augustine’s voice carried the kind of dry amusement that meant you were both in trouble. She strode into view, the lab’s fluorescent lights glaring down on her as she glared at you and Jake. “Sully, remind me, what’s the rule about you being in here when you’re all blue?”
He raised his hands in surrender, the barest flash of guilt breaking through his grin. “Just visiting, doc. Dropped something off.”
Your mom arched an eyebrow, glancing between you and the suspiciously close wall of blue muscle boxing you in. “Uh-huh, I’m sure.”
You opened your mouth to explain, but your voice felt lodged somewhere in your throat. Jake just smirked like a kid with his hand caught in the cookie jar.
Grace sighed, shaking her head as she moved past you, her hand reaching toward the specimen bag. “You’ve got five seconds to stop distracting my kid, marine. Then I start yelling.”
Jake finally stepped back, slow and reluctant, his tail unwinding from your ankle in one last intentional stroke. “Fine, fine. I’m going.”
You gazed after him even when the door hissed shut behind him. Your mom cleared her throat loudly, an obvious signal.
“Eyes on your work, kiddo.” She said without looking up from the bag, but the faint curl at the edge of her mouth told you she’d noticed far more than she was letting on.
You turned back to the microscope, but the image swam uselessly in and out of focus. All you could think about was the phantom weight around your ankle and the heat of a blue shadow.
FOLLOWING YOUR MOM’S INSTRUCTIONS WAS HARDLY EVER A CHALLENGE. The lists, the schedule, the specific directions helped you keep track of day to day tasks. Having a strict plan was beneficial to not losing your mind in the never ending biorhythm you called life on Pandora. You barely ever argued against what she wanted you to do. But there were times when you got a bit stir crazy.
So when your mom finally allowed you to tag along on a field run, you tried not to look too eager.
The rover rattled over root-knotted ground until at last the forest opened its jaws and swallowed you. You stepped down into it with a reverent excitement, boots sinking into moss that exhaled under your weight. The light filtered through the canopy of the trees in fractured beams, each one a column of green-gold fire, alive with drifting motes of pollen. The air pressed in, humid and thick, humming with an orchestra of fluttering wings, distant calls, and the groaning creak of ancient trunks shifting with their age.
Through the glass of your Exopack, you tried to drink it in all at once. Every shade of green, blue, purple, and orange seemed exaggerated, as if the forest had been painted with too-bold strokes. Leaves the size of your torso arched above, beaded with pearls of recent rain. When the droplets fell, they hit the undergrowth with a sound like soft percussion.
You trailed behind your mom’s and Norm’s avatars, trying to keep up with the long-legged ease of their alternative bodies. You, by contrast, were painfully aware of every uneven patch, every rock that threatened to attack your footing.
Still, it was worth it. You barely ever got the chance to come out here. One of the disadvantages of not having an avatar of your own. For once to have no metal walls separating you from Pandora’s living pulse was well worth the tricky terrain.
For a while you managed just fine. Keeping your steps careful, a case of sample containers in one hand. A few times your eyes were drawn to the flora and fauna around you. Your attention on blooms and buds rather than the path ahead. The scientist in you wanted to stop and take a sample from whatever looked interesting, if only to take them back to the lab and catalog the inner workings of them. But field missions weren’t sightseeing expeditions. You were out here to collect root samples from the cycad trees, not stop every few seconds to gawk at the native plants.
You passed by a cluster of Helicoradian, their glowing orange spirals tempting you to tap them just to see how they retreated into the earth.
“Eyes up, kiddo!” Your mom’s voice called you back, always seeming to know when your head was wandering.
Up ahead the path spilled into a clearing where the cycad trees rose in congregation. They looked ancient, like everything else on this planet. Older than the metal bones of Hell’s Gate and older than the hands that built it. Their trunks were armored with anemonoid in rough spiraling plates. On the top of each column flared a crown of rigid fronds, green spears edged with faint luminescence, as though the trees had stored away slivers of starlight. The clearing smelled sharp and resinous, a tang that traveled through your Exopack and clung to your nose.
You were still a bit behind, but your mom was already at the base of the nearest tree. Her avatar’s queue swung as she tilted her head back, scanning the fronds of each cycad to determine which to take samples from first.
Norm was off to the side of you, busying himself pulling out instruments from his field kit, muttering something under his breath about contamination protocols.
“Make sure you watch the roots!” Your mom called over her shoulder, voice carrying easily through the clearing.
But her warning came too late.
The ground around the cycads was a living thing in its own right. Roots coiled and knotted together like the misshapen ribs of some buried giant, slick with moss and threaded through with thin vines that turned slippery underfoot. You adjusted your grip on your supplies, shifted your weight to step around a thick arch, and—
Felt your boot slide.
The world tipped as your ankle rolled with a sharp twist, pain flaring white-hot and immediate. A breath tore itself from your throat as you pitched forward, the forest lurching sideways in a blur of green. The sample case knocked hard against your knee as you stumbled, feet skidding uselessly on damp bark.
You hit the ground on one knee with a soft, ugly sound, moss cushioning the impact but doing nothing to dull the fire blooming in your ankle. Heat pulsed there, deep in the muscles, each throb sending a fresh wave of ache up your leg. You sucked in a breath through clenched teeth, more startled than anything.
Your mom’s head snapped towards you, braid swinging, and eyes widening as concern dawned across her face. “Don’t move, hun,” she said sharply, already striding over to you. Norm followed suit, instruments clattering softly back into his kit.
You tried to wave them off, more out of instinct than sense. “I- I’m fine,” you managed, though the words wobbled around the throbbing, growing more persistent by the second. When you shifted even a fraction, pain lanced up your leg, sharp enough to steal your breath. You hissed, half from the ache and half from sheer humiliation, before going still again.
Your mom crouched in front of you, her movements brisk but careful. Her large hands hovered just short of touching you. “Where’s it hurt?” She asked softly, golden eyes already assessing.
“My ankle,” you admitted. “I… slipped.”
“No kidding,” she muttered, gaze flicking to the treacherous lattice of roots beneath you. She gently nudged your boot off your foot, revealing the redness already blooming along the skin. She rotated your ankle just slightly, testing. You flinched despite yourself, a grunt of pain escaping you.
“That looks pretty bad,” Norm said quietly, stepping closer. His usual awkward humor vanished.
Exhaling through her nose, your mom fixed you with a stern look. “Field run’s over for you, hun.”
“No arguing,” she added, because she knew you too well.
You opened your mouth anyway, stubbornness flaring even in the face of being hurt. But the words died in your throat as another pulse of pain waved through your ankle. The limb throbbed with its own ugly rhythm, a hot, insistent reminder that Pandora did not care how badly you wanted to prove yourself capable.
“I can carry her,” Norm offered as he crouched beside you, glancing between you and your mom. “It’s not far back to the rover.”
Your mom took only a moment to think before nodding. “Yeah, that’s probably a good idea.”
Embarrassment prickled at the back of your neck. “I can hop,” you said weakly, as if that might somehow make this better.
Norm gave you a look somewhere between apologetic and clumsy firmness. “You’re not hopping anywhere,” he said, trying for humor and missing it entirely. “Not unless you want to make it worse.”
He moved carefully, one arm sliding behind your back, the other under your knees. The world shifted again as he lifted you, the new height making your head swim for a split second. You instinctively grabbed onto his shoulders, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt. Norm was all steady awkwardness, extremely aware of where his hands were and how he was touching you.
“Sorry,” you murmured, mortified.
“Don’t be,” he said quickly, adjusting his grip. “I’ve had my share of stumbles out here too.”
Despite yourself, a breathy laugh slipped out of you, dissolving into a wince once he began to walk. He was being as careful as he could, but each step sent a slight tremor through you as the motion jarred. The forest moved around you as Norm navigated the roots with exaggerated caution, his long legs stepping easily where yours had failed.
From this height, Pandora felt different, and you were once again caught by the disappointment of not having your own avatar to navigate the remarkable planet. It was more overwhelming at this high advantage somehow. The canopy loomed closer, tall leaves able to brush your shoulders as Norm passed beneath them. Somewhere nearby, a creature chirred sharply, answered by a distant, echoing call that reverberated through the clearing.
Your lingering embarrassment said they were mocking you.
BY THE TIME YOU MADE IT BACK TO HELL’S GATE, THE ACHE IN YOUR ANKLE HAD SETTLED INTO A DEEP, SULLEN THROB. No longer sharp, but still insistent. Med Bay had wrapped it snugly, a careful lattice of white and compression, and sent you off with strict instructions to ice it and stay off your feet.
So that’s what you did.
Your quarters were dim; the only light on was the amber strip along the ceiling. The faint spill of Pandora’s nighttime glow added a calm overcast as it came through the narrow window. You lay propped on your bunk, one leg stretched out before you, the other tucked in close. A thin towel lay between your skin and the ice pack pressed to your ankle, the chill seeping in cold and biting. But it was welcome.
You exhaled, letting your head fall back against the wall. The day had wrung you out more than you’d expected. Between the adrenaline of the fall and the humiliation of being carried back like a wounded animal, exhaustion had crept in quick and heavy.
It was because of this fatigue that you realized at the last second that someone rapped a knock at your door before opening it.
“Hello…” you started, then stopped all within the same moment. You froze halfway pushing yourself upright. Jake filled the doorway; avatar Jake.
For half a beat you didn’t say anything. He stood too tall for the narrow frame, shoulders barely brushing the metal, his tail swishing behind him still out in the hall. Blue skin caught the amber light in soft gradients, freckles glowing faintly like silver embers in the slight darkness. His queue hung loose over one shoulder, threaded with tiny bits of leaves. Like he had been in a hurry on his way here.
Your room was built for humans. For narrow shoulders and shorter frames, not for Na’vi or avatars. Their tall stature and long tails weren’t meant to navigate such tight spaces. But there was Jake, ducking so he didn’t bang his head on the ceiling.
You blinked hard, then stared at him for another second, incredulous. “Jake!” You finally gasp as his tail sweeps across the desk, taking a few books with it. “What are you doing?”
His ears flick, angling forward like they always did when he was caught off guard. “Hey.”
Your mouth fell open before snapping shut. Then opening again. “How the hell did you even get in here like that?”
He huffed a deep laugh, one shoulder rolling in a half shrug that brushed dangerously close to a shelf holding some preserved samples. “Carefully,” he said, grinning.
“That’s not an answer,” you said, the shock bleeding into exasperation. But under it, hidden in the far corner of your chest, a familiar warmth began to spread like it always did in his presence. You dragged your eyes over him despite yourself, taking in the sheer scale of him cramped in your small room. “You're not supposed to be wandering around Hell’s Gate in your avatar.”
“I know,” he said quickly as if to fight off the lecture he knew you’d give him. “I- hey what happened, pretty?” he asked then, gold eyes zeroing in on your leg.
Your gaze dropped automatically to your ankle, still wrapped and propped up, the ice pack starting to melt, making the towel damp. When you looked back up, Jake was watching you with a focus that sent a delirious shiver down your spine. His gaze wasn’t edged with the playfulness from seconds before. This was sharper, fervent almost. Concern, stripped down to its barest form.
“It’s just a sprain,” you promised, suddenly feeling the need to downplay it. “It’ll be fine in a week or two.”
He took a step closer, crouching down to where he was more level with you. Then he seemed to stop himself from shuffling even nearer, shoulders pulling back, spine stiffening like he’d hit some invisible line.
“You’re back early tonight,” you pointed out, desperate to fill the sudden space of dense silence.
“Got let off,” he answered absently. “Neytiri said I was distracted.”
You laugh quietly. “Imagine that.”
The corner of his mouth twitched, but the smile didn’t fully form.
With him this close, the room felt smaller, if at all possible. Crowded was more like it. His presence filled the space in a way that human Jake never did. Not because he was less than in that body, but because he was always so closed off. He was more confident in his avatar, but even if he tried to hide it, he hated himself. It always made your heart ache for him.
You liked human Jake just as much as avatar Jake. If you were braver, you might even say you loved him, but that was a disaster waiting to happen. So you kept those confusing feelings to yourself even as the lines of your friendship began to blur on both sides.
He inhaled, deep enough that you could hear the intake of breath. His brow immediately furrowed, nose wrinkling as if he’d tasted something sour. His ears flicked back, pinned to the side of his head.
“You smell like Norm.” His face scrunched up in disgust, which you would have found funny had it not been for the equally repulsed tone in his voice.
“I- what?” A startled laugh slipped out of you before you could stop it. “That’s a weird thing to say, Jake.”
He dragged an azure hand down his face, his fangs peeking out behind the cage of his fingers almost like he was fighting off the urge to bare them.
“I couldn’t walk, so he carried me to the rover,” you said, feeling the urge to explain the situation. “It’s not a big deal,” you insisted.
Something dark flashed across his vision at that. Not anger, but something closer to offence. Like instinct bristled as reason lagged. His jaw tightened, and the way he looked at you… possessive wasn’t quite the right word. Protective didn’t cover the total breadth of it either. It was territorial in its raw, unfiltered reach.
You saw it in the way his pupils narrowed, in the subtle flare of his nostrils as he breathed you in again. Deeper this time, slower. Like he was trying to catalog every note of you and finding something there that did not belong.
His tail lashed once behind him before he pounced.
The space between you vanished in a single step. Too fast for you to react, too sudden for your mind to catch up. His thigh clipped the edge of your nightstand as he closed in, the impact sending it skidding sideways with a sharp clatter as a few loose items toppled to the floor.
“Jake-” you squealed, startled.
He didn’t answer as his arms came around you instead, broad and warm and impossibly solid, drawing you carefully off the bunk and against him. Not rough. Always gentle. One arm braced firmly behind your back, the other sliding under your thighs just enough to shift you without jarring your injured ankle. His movements were instinctive, precise, like even now some part of him was cataloguing your fragility and adjusting accordingly.
You gasped softly as your body was pressed flush to his, your good foot barely finding purchase against the floor. Your hands hovered uselessly for a moment before landing on his chest, fingers splayed over the unfamiliar warmth of his skin.
His breathing was harder now. Not really frantic, more controlled, but strained at the same time. Like someone holding a door closed against a rising storm.
“Jake?” Your voice came out smaller than you meant it to. A mix of both confusion and hopefulness.
He dipped his head without answering, burying his face into the curve of your neck.
The sensation of him being so close was overwhelming. A big mass of blue muscle and heat. The brush of his cheek, the warmth of his breath ghosting over your skin, the faint rasp of his inhale as he drew you in again and again. His nose pressed hard into the hollow beneath your ear. His braid lying over his shoulder brushes your chest.
You went still. Not because you were afraid, you could never be afraid of him, but because you were stunned. Because your body hadn’t decided yet what this meant, and your mind was scrambling to catch up. To make sense of it. You didn’t push him away, but you didn’t lean into him either. You simply stood there, caught in the gravity of him. And some part of you wanted to stay trapped in that pull forever. You wanted to get lost in him and never find your way out again.
Jake’s hands flexed against you, tightening just enough to be felt.
Possessive.
Anchoring.
His breathing, still heavy, turned uneven. A rough sound that vibrated through his chest and into yours. He inhaled once more, deeper this time, almost desperate in a way. Like he was trying to overwrite something, drown it out with sheer force of will.
Norm’s scent and your scent. Together.
A low sound slipped from his throat, whether he meant it to or not. Something between a growl and a frustrated sigh. His grip adjusted to pull you closer, his body curving around yours as if to shield you from everything else. To claim the space you occupied as his too.
As if to remind himself, and the world, that this was his. His woman. Even if he hadn’t said it. Even if he hadn’t let himself so much as believe it yet.
Mine.
The thought burned through him, unfiltered by logic or consequence.
His mouth brushed your skin, not quite a kiss, just the barest deliberate press of his lips and breath and scent against your neck. He lingered, his mouth resting there, breathing you in until the tension in his shoulders began to tremble.
You swallowed hard. “Jake,” you whispered, confusion threading through the sound. “What are you doing?”
Your voice finally reached him.
He froze, not pulling away yet, but stilling completely, as though the words had cut through the fog clouding his mind. His breath hitched once against your skin. His arms remained locked around you, but you felt the fight return to his posture. The conscious effort to rein himself back in.
For a long moment neither of you moved. Then, slowly, reluctantly, he lifted his head.
His eyes were blown wide, gold rimmed with black, something feral he looked almost ashamed of. His ears were pinned back, tail twitching once before going still.
“I-” His voice was rough, scraped raw. He swallowed. “I’m sorry.”
He loosened his hold, just enough to give you space, though he didn’t let go completely. As if he were afraid that if he did, something worse might spill out in its place. You were still pressed close enough to feel his heart hammering against your palms.
And suddenly, with his pulse so close to your skin paired with his intense gaze, you realized this moment had changed something irrevocably.
Whatever line you’d been dancing around? Jake had just crushed it underfoot as soon as he stepped into your room. And you had let him, all but welcoming its destruction. And neither of you could pretend otherwise anymore.
IT WAS STRANGE HOW SOMETHING SO SMALL AS ABSENCE COULD FEEL SO LOUD.
Jake’s absence was deafening, and you noticed it everywhere. The last week he’d been avoiding you; you heard it in the lack of his wheelchair rolling up to your lab station. At the doorways that never darkened with a too-tall blue silhouette. In the quiet moments when you caught yourself listening for footsteps or rolling wheels that never came. He avoided you with an efficiency that hurt more than if he’d done it clumsily.
No teasing jokes in the mess hall.
No poorly cut samples on your lab table.
No Jake, human or avatar, hovering just close enough to be distracting.
At first, you told yourself it was a coincidence. He was training to become one of the Omatikaya, after all. Schedules change, and your lab hours were probably just overlapping. Life on Pandora moved fast.
By the fourth day, the lie stopped holding much truth. And by the seventh, when even your mom asked where Sully had been, it burned.
You stayed late in the lab tonight. Not because you needed to, but because going back to your quarters meant too much time alone with your thoughts. Too much time to remember how it felt to have Jake’s arms around you, his broad chest under your palms, his breath ghosting over the skin of your neck. The overhead lights were dimmed to their lowest setting, most of the room lit only by bright screens and the soft bioluminescent glow of the forest beyond the reinforced glass.
You sat hunched over your workstation, ankle tucked carefully beneath the chair, data scrolling past your unfocused eyes. A half empty mug of tea rested near your elbow.
The lab was quiet enough that the sound of the hydraulic door opening echoed.
You didn’t look up even when the blue shadow you’d been yearning for came to view in your peripheral. Your shoulders tightened, though, a dull flare of irritation following close on its heels.
“Hey,” Jake said.
You let his greeting rot in the air a moment before finally lifting your gaze slowly.
He stood just inside the doorway, avatar body filling the frame like always. But once where he looked curious and sometimes restless, now he looked wrong. Out of place like never before. He was too still. His ears were angled carefully neutral, tail held intentionally calm behind him. Even his stance felt too measured, like he’d rehearsed it.
He looked like someone stepping back into something he abandoned for the first time again.
“Hey,” you echoed flatly.
He smiled, or tried to, but it didn’t quite land.
“Thought you might be in here,” he said, forcing his voice to sound light. “Figured I’d check in.”
You turned back to your screen without comment, fingers tapping a few keys harder than necessary. The silence stretched, taut and uncomfortable.
Jake shifted his weight. “How’s the ankle?”
“Still attached,” you said.
There was another pause as he took a step further into the lab. “Norm mentioned you’ve been pulling late hours.”
You looked at him then, something sharp and exhausted twisting in your chest. A week of unanswered questions pressed against your ribs, all of them demanding space.
“Oh,” you said coolly. “So it takes Norm telling you that I’ve been staying up late to bring you around?”
His brows furrowed. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means,” you reply, voice tight, “that you disappear for a week without a word, and now you just show up. Like nothing happened.”
Jake opened his mouth, then closed it again. Something flickered behind his eyes; guilt, frustration, things he didn’t seem ready to voice.
You didn’t give him the chance to recover. “If you’re here to make yourself feel better, or to just check a box, you can go,” you said, turning back to your work. “I’m busy.”
The words landed harder than you meant them to, but you didn’t take them back. You never spoke to Jake with any real anger, mild annoyance maybe, but never had you been this mad at him.
For a moment, he simply stared at you. Then, before he could stop himself-
“Why?” he asked, sharp and bitter. “Your new boyfriend on his way?”
The lab seemed to go very, very quiet. You slowly turned to face him again; you stared at him for a few heartbeats. Then you laughed. A short, incredulous sound that scraped its way up your throat before you could stop it.
“What the fuck does that mean?” you asked.
Jake stiffened like he hadn’t expected that response from you at all. His ears flicked back, tail giving a sharp, irritated twitch behind him. He shifted his weight again, growing more restless, that forced calm beginning to crack at the seams.
“Norm also mentioned,” he said, voice tight, “some RDA asshat’s been coming around here. Talking to you. Getting a little too familiar.”
It took you a full minute to even place who he meant. The RDA tech, the one who’s hovered near your station a few times, asked too many questions about your work, lingered around in a way that had registered as mildly annoying at best. He was forgettable, irrelevant, so you hadn’t spared him a second thought.
“That’s-” you cut yourself off, shaking your head as disbelief bled into frustration. “That’s what this is about?”
Jake’s jaw flexed. “I don’t like it.”
“And why would it matter to you?” you shot back, something in you finally snapping; a clean, sharp break. “You act like I don’t exist after whatever the hell happened the other night, and now you’re worried about me with another guy?”
The words tumbled out faster the longer you spoke, the hurt you’d been swallowing all week at last finding its voice.
“You don’t talk to me. You won’t look at me. And now you just show up out of nowhere acting like you get to be territorial?” Your laugh this time was filled with brittle humor. “You don’t get to do that, Jake.”
He opened his mouth before snapping it closed again.
You watched something struggle behind his eyes, like he was weighing half a dozen answers and finding none of them safe enough to say. Your anger faltered just a fraction, leaving a raw, open wound in its wake as something dawned on you.
“Is the only reason you’re here really because you’re jealous?” you asked quietly, your voice filled with the realization that this all might have been one big game to him. That he’d just been toying with you the whole time, using the advantage of his avatar to play you.
The belief that you were right became more real the longer he was silent. But then you watched as his shoulders sagged a little, the fight draining out of his posture. His gaze dropped to the floor between you, then lifted again, gold eyes darkened with something heavier than jealousy alone.
“No,” he admitted hoarsely.
One word; simple, honest, and unprotected by any ulterior motive.
He came a few steps closer, then stopped himself just short of being able to reach out and touch you. His hands curled slowly into fists at his sides like he didn’t trust them to behave.
“I’ve been trying to stay away from you,” he admitted, the words sounding like they physically hurt him to say. “Because I don’t trust myself right now.”
Your breath caught despite your continued vexation.
“Jake-”
“I scared myself,” he continued, cutting in gently, finally meeting your eyes. “What happened in your room… the way I lost my head. That wasn’t how I wanted to be with you.”
Silence pressed in again, thick and intimate and unbearable.
“I thought if I stayed away,” he went on, voice low and roughed around the edges, “I could get myself under control. I thought it’d be better for you.”
“Turns out it just made me an asshole.” His jaw tightened as the admission hung between you, fragile and aching and real.
For a moment you didn’t know what to do with anything he just told you. Your anger had nowhere clean to go now. It dulled at the edges, turning inward, becoming something heavier. Confusion and a tenderness you hadn’t asked for.
Jake stood there like a man braced for impact, shoulders rigid beneath the soft glow of the lab’s screens. His tail had gone still behind him, but the rest of him was wound taut like a cable pulled too tight, trembling with the effort not to snap.
You stared up at him, searching his face for anything that made sense.
“What is wrong with you here lately?” You asked finally, voice hushed with the lack of clarity.
His breath hitched, and you thought he might retreat again. Shut down and swallow it back, turning into that closed off marine. Instead, his jaw clenched so hard you saw the muscle jump.
His hands flexed at his sides before he seemed to make a decision. He closed the distance left between you, crouching down in front of your chair to meet your eyes fully.
When he spoke, it was like something raw and bleeding was being torn out of him. “It’s this body.”
You blinked, and his ear flicked back in shame. “The avatar… it’s not just some suit I climb into.” His throat bobbed as he swallowed. “It’s got its own instincts. Its own needs.”
The words sounded bitter on his tongue. “I thought I could handle it,” he confessed. “I thought I was in control.” His eyes bore into yours, the gold heated like molten fire.
Your pulse thudded once, heavy, as he reached a blue hand up to skim along your throat.
Jake let out a shaky breath mixed with an amazed laugh. “Out there with Neytiri, she keeps telling me to listen. To let my body teach me.”
His lips curled, frustrated. “And it is.” His gaze dropped down to your lips, then snapped back up, intense. “It’s teaching me things I don’t wanna know about myself.”
The lab suddenly felt too small. You could hear the hum of the terminals, the faint distant throb of Hell’s Gate machinery, but underneath it all was Jake’s voice, threadbare with restraint.
“I can smell everything,” he said. “Hear everything. Feel everything.”
His hands came to rest on the arms of your chair, fingers wrapping tightly around as his skin spread taut over his knuckles.
“And when it comes to you…” He stopped like the rest of the sentence was too dangerous to let loose.
Your chest constricted.
“I’ve been trying to be respectful,” he said hoarsely. “Trying to be your friend. To be the guy who jokes around and brings you flowers and doesn’t-” His voice broke sharply. “Doesn’t look at you like I wanna take you apart.”
Silence slammed down so deafening you could hear the blood rushing through your ears. Your lips parted, but no sound would come.
“That night in your room when I smelled him on you…” His nostrils flared, like even the memory set something off in him. “It wasn’t rational,” he said, almost pleading with you to understand. “I know it wasn’t, but something in me just-”
One hand lifted from the chair arm, he pressed it hard against your chest like he wanted to brand you with his touch.
“Mine,” he whispered, the word stripped bare. “Everything screamed that you were mine.”
The word lingered between you, a hot, dangerous, trembling thing. You could feel where his palm rested against your chest, broad and warm and shaking faintly with the effort it took not to curl his fingers into you. His touch wasn’t rough, but it wasn’t neutral either. It was claiming and terrified all at once.
Jake’s breath was coming harder now, brushing over your mouth in uneven bursts. His pupils had blown wide, swallowing the gold of his irises until only a thin ring remained.
“That’s what scared me,” he said, voice breaking at the edges. “Not that I wanted you. I’ve wanted you for a long time.”
Your heart stumbled.
“But that it didn’t feel like a choice anymore.” His jaw clenched.
His hand slid from your chest to your waist, slowly. Deliberately giving you time and space to say no. Every inch he closed was measured, like he was walking through a minefield and waiting for you to shatter him into a million pieces.
Your breath had gone shallow. Your fingers tightened on the edge of your chair, but you didn’t push him away. You didn’t recoil or tell him no, because you wanted this just as much as he did.
He watched your face the entire time, searching for hesitation. When he found none, something in him gave. He rose from his crouch, towering over you again, and then—as careful as ever—he drew you up from the seat.
He sat you back down on the lab table, hands sliding around you, one settling at your lower back, the other bracing just under your ribs. He pulled you toward him inch by inch, waiting for resistance that never came.
Your palms landed on his chest as he paused there. Foreheads nearly touching, your breaths mingling. “Tell me to stop,” he murmured. “And I will.”
You said nothing.
The last thread of restraint snapped. Jake lowered his head to your neck, but this time there was no frantic desperation, only an insatiable, aching hunger he was unable to pretend didn’t exist. He nuzzled into the curve of your throat, slow and reverent and quivering. His nose dragged along your skin as he inhaled deeply, like he was memorizing you. Like he was replacing every trace of doubt with himself.
His lips ghosted over your pulse point. Not quite with a kiss, just the softest brush of his mouth. There was another and then another. Half-kisses that were barely there.
His breath fanned hot across your skin as he moved with the line of your throat, up beneath your jaw, and back down again. The scrape of his fangs grazed lightly over you without breaking skin, a sensation that made you gasp as your stomach flipped.
“I care about you,” he said into your neck, voice cracking like something tearing at the seams. “And that’s the problem.”
His arms tightened around you, shaking. “You deserve better than me losing my damn mind every time I’m around you.”
His mouth pressed more firmly now, still not fully kissing you, just heat and intent and possession. His fingers splayed at your back like he was anchoring himself to you. Like without you he would float away, lost to his worries.
“I don’t wanna hurt you,” he whispered, the words playing over your skin. “But I want you so fucking bad it hurts.”
The confession vibrated through you. His control was fraying; you could feel it in the tremor of his arms, in the way his breath stuttered when you shifted even slightly against him.
But he was still holding back, still waiting for you to reject him.
For all your anger at him this past week, you had missed him.
“If you think that I don’t want you nearly as bad,” you whispered, voice bordering on painful desire, “then you haven’t been paying attention.”
Jake froze, the words hitting him like an arrow. His mouth hovered over your sink, breath still fanning hot against it, but his body went rigid as if the confession had rotted him in place.
Slowly, he lifted his head. “What?” he rasped.
You swallowed, throat tight. You could feel your heartbeat everywhere. Under your flesh, behind your ribs, in the space between you where the air itself felt charged.
“I said,” you repeated softly, “that you haven’t been paying attention.”
His ears flicked forward, then back again, torn between hope and panic. His hands remained at your waist like he didn’t know what else to do with them. Like letting go would kill him.
“I’ve been pining after you for months,” you continued. “It’s kind of pathetic how much I want you.”
Your fingers lifted, hesitant for only a moment before you touched him. Just the edge of his jaw, the warm blue skin trembling under your fingertips.
Jake’s breath shuddered.
“You don’t think I haven’t played that night in my room over and over again in my head until it made me crazy?” You asked, eyes burning.
His throat bobbed. The restraint in him was a living thing, shaking and cracking.
“I missed you, Jake,” you admitted, voice breaking. “This entire week all I wanted was for you to show up and not to apologize.”
You leaned forward, close enough that your lips almost brushed his. “I wanted you because it’s you.”
He let out a sound, low and absolutely wrecked, like something inside him finally broke clean in two. His hands gripped your waist, not bruising but enough to convey the frenzy boiling under his flesh.
“You don’t know what you're saying,” he whispered, as if he needed all of this to be a misunderstanding just to survive it.
“I do,” you assured immediately. “I know exactly what I’m saying.” You drew in a breath, forcing the words past the constriction in your chest. “I want you, Jake.”
His name sounded like a plea falling from your lips.
“Fuck,” he breathed as his eyes fluttered shut.
Then he was tugging you forward, mouth capturing yours with a force that was born from his incessant need for you. A low groan tore from his chest and slithered down your throat as his teeth nipped your lower lip, his pupils blown wide as the black eclipsed the sun of his eyes.
There’s no hesitation anymore; he doesn’t pause to second guess or soften. He just took as he anchored you to him with all the intention to never let you go again. He swallowed your startled sound, claiming it for himself, tucking it away in the treasure chest he meant to fill with more like it. It was ravenous, the way he kissed you, matching the hunger festering in his ribs.
His hands were everywhere and nowhere at once. Gripping your waist and sliding up your spine. His touch was devout in its desperation, the kind of worship that came from wanting something too much to treat it carelessly.
He broke from your mouth only to drag his lips down your jaw, pressing open-mouthed kisses under your ear. His breath was hot, uneven, his voice nothing more than a fractured exhale.
“Christ,” he muttered.
You shivered, fingers clutching at his shoulders. “Jake,” you whispered, your voice ending his name with a whine.
“This what y’wanted?” he breathed, settling you farther back on the lab table. He nudged your head back, giving him more of your throat. His plush lips trail down your neck, leading to your collarbone.
You nod frantically, not trusting your voice. Your hands clamber to hold on to something, moving from his shoulders to his biceps.
He raises his head and looks at you like you were something sacred and ruinous all at once. “Yeah?” he asked, a playful grin pulling at his mouth. He slots himself between your thighs, your legs spreading wide to accommodate his sheer size. You don’t want to think too hard about how everything would possibly fit together.
Thankfully you don’t have time to. A gasp flies past your lips as Jake licks a line from the top of your covered breasts up to the curve of your jaw. “Yeah y’do,” he chuckles. “I can taste it on your skin, baby.”
Your entire body jerks when he all but tears your shirt over your head. The cool sterile air of the lab hits you, and goosebumps erupt along your flesh. Jake’s warmth is right there, though, as his hands extend across the full expanse of your ribcage, thumbs digging in to keep you in place.
“Look at you,” he breathes out a sigh of wonder. He bends farther, taking his expedition of kisses to the tops of your breasts, where they spill out of your bra. His tongue darted out here and there to taste.
“Oh god,” you mewl, throat bobbing as you try to swallow back more cries. You bring yourself closer to him, pressing forward on the strong planes of his striped chest. You feel his hands snake behind you, and then your bra is being slipped off your shoulders.
The little whimpers you’re letting out, all for his tongue and lips mapping your skin, send throbs of pleasure straight down to his cock. He can feel it begin to strain against his tewng. It clouds his judgement even more: your scent, your heat, the softness of your helplessly small body against his own. He’s all but thrown common sense out the window.
Restlessness courses through you as his onslaughts of affection overwhelm your senses. A rough sigh snags in your throat when his fangs tease over one of your nipples. Your hands, still clinging to his biceps, roam down until one wraps around his braid. It just sits there, not pulling or tugging, but it's enough to pry a growl from him.
A shiver races up your spine as he guides you to lie back against the table. The cold metal biting into your bare skin. A blue shadow hovers over you, the starvation that he’s held waiting pouring out of his fathomless eyes. You feel hot to the touch as he lavishes you with kisses, his lips memorizing the plush of your belly, the stuttering breath weeping behind the cage of your ribs.
“Jake,” you whine again, wiggling your hips.
“Okay, okay,” he chuckles. His hands hook into the belt loops of your jeans as you lift your hips for him. One smooth tug is all it takes for him to have them off, leaving them in a pile on the lab’s floor.
He traces a finger down the front of your panties, pressing firmly on your clit as he does so. Your pulse jumps, your need growing frantic and you wonder how he’s so calm all of a sudden.
“So pretty,” he drawls. He’s shaking from the inside out, but he’s trying really damn hard not to let his restraint fry. He doesn’t want to scare you. “So fucking wet… all f’me.”
He sinks to his knees, sliding your panties off before spreading your thighs as far as they’d go until they rested flat on the tabletop. He inches further and further to your core, stamping kisses every few inches to the inside of your thighs as he goes.
His chest heaves as he takes in the sight of you bare. You really are the prettiest woman he’s ever seen. Even prettier when you're all laid out for him. His eyes meet yours before he’s lowering his mouth to your center. Not breaking your gaze as he flattens his tongue over your cunt.
You jolt at the first feeling of it rolling over you, coarse and warm and wet. He licks into the quivering depths of you, reaching so deep inside it hurts. You moan outright, fingers scratching at his shoulders. He hums between your legs, the sound skipping through your core up to your ears.
“Jake,” you sob, eyes snapping close as if cutting off your sight would make the pleasure a little less overwhelming. Even his tongue felt huge against you—so, so good, but big.
Jake watched you with a predator’s focus, gaze sharp as your face twisted with rapture. Your hips roll upwards on their own accord, chasing his mouth. His arms wrapped around your thighs to hold you still, to keep you at the mercy of what he’s willing to give you. He sucks your clit into his mouth, earning a squeal from your already raw throat.
“Oh- oh god-”
Hearing your teary voice crying out for him has the single thread of butchered control tying him together all but burning away. Your cunt is so warm and tight around his tongue he shudders to imagine what it would feel like trapping his cock inside you. “Fuck, pretty, can barely take my tongue. How’re you gonna fit my dick inside you?”
You can’t answer; you can’t think around the haze of heat between your legs.
He moves his mouth to replace it with one of his fingers, the tip making light circles around your entrance. “Gonna stretch you a little, baby,” he says before slipping the digit inside.
You gasp around a moan, the stretch of his long finger strange but good. His thumb rubs patterns on your clit in time to each exploratory movement of his finger. He adds a second a few minutes later, spreading your cunt open in the hopes of his cock being allowed entrance.
“Need you to cum first, honey,” he mumbles. Tears gather at your waterline as he works his fingers in and out. “Can’t fuck you if you don’t.”
He lowers his head back to your center, his lips taking your clit between them again. He sucks and nibbles on it as his fingers climb you higher and higher. A wave of heat flushes through you, spreading from your core going all the way through your nervous system. Your thighs yearn to close around him, but one strong arm still keeps you wide open for him. He curls both tips of his fingers up, tapping against your g-spot with a speed that makes your back arch and a yelp of pleasure-pain echo into the lab.
“There again,” you gasp, hips writhing and bucking trapped in his hold. “God, Jake…”
He happily obliges, digits and mouth working you towards your peak with a wild determination. He needed to fuck you, all his instincts roaring at him to take you, but he needed you ready for him. His ears flick towards the sound of a faltering whine, and then you’re breaking apart for him.
He thinks you might actually be crying as you sob around the moans slipping from your mouth. Your fingers dig into his skin while your chest heaves, your release dripping down his hand and chin.
Soothing your live wire of a body, he repositions himself above you. Trailing his lips along your neck, he breathes in the heady scent of your climax clinging to your skin. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” he rasps.
“Really?” You wish your voice didn’t sound so small, but the magnitude of a moment like this was profuse.
He mindlessly ruts his hips into yours, dragging his hard length along your thigh. His breath hitches at your surprise, the sweet doubt you still held about yourself being important to him. He had a long list of damage he now needed to fix after his stunt this week.
“Course you are, pretty.” The indigo blush heating his face had everything to do his with need to fuck you and from baring his feelings out like this. “Missed you so much this week while I was being a skxawng. Could hardly focus on my lessons with Neytiri with you on my mind.”
With one hand pulling you down further on the table, his other went to the strings of his tewng. He plucks the strings undone and the fabric falls to the floor.
You’re lying flat on your back so you can’t see what’s about to be placed inside you. And that just won’t do. “Can I see?” You ask timidly, already sitting up with your weight rested on your elbows.
Jake chuckles but indulges you, stepping back so you can get a full look. Oh. Is the only thing you can think once you’ve got your eyes on him. The long length is a darker blue than the rest of his body, splattered with those same bioluminescent freckles. The tip glows with pre-cum, and the scientist in you can’t help but be intrigued by that.
He seems to be able to read your mind because he crowds back into you. “Alright, my little scientist,” he teases, “there’s plenty of time for you to study it later.”
He nudges the tip into your entrance, coating it with your slick. You whimper at the sensation, and he glances up at you. “It’ll hurt a bit,” he warned, no maybes or possibilities; it was gonna be a tight fit. But he needed you like an Ikran needs the open air, and he knew you could take it.
His arms shake with the weight of both holding himself up and back from rutting his entire length into you like a wild animal. A deep groan rumbles in his chest as he lines the head up with your entrance; he ever so slightly pushes it in.
“Oh my god, Jake!” You shriek, your mouth drops open, and a blend of pleasured and pained sounds spills out. You were dizzy with desire as the aching feel of him effectively split you open. And it was only the tip so far. “S-slow please,” you stammer, hands reaching for purchase before landing on his chest. A burning need throbbed inside you to take more of him.
And he appeases that by languidly sinking his cock within you. Little by little until the first inch has disappeared inside your cunt. You tense, walls clutching at him; the intrusion hurts, but that doesn’t stop you from arching your back just to feel him better.
“Easy, that’s it,” he coaches, “let me in, baby.” Harsh pants ghost over your face; his length seems to pulse impatiently. You can tell he’s fighting his urges, the base instincts that scratch at him. He’s trembling with the effort to not hurt you. That thought alone makes you whimper; he really is so good.
He pushes a bit more inside you, but this time something sharp shoots through you. “Wait,” you exclaim. “Just a minute.”
“I’m sorry, pretty, sorry,” he sputters, stilling his hips. He busies himself placing kisses to your neck again, whispering encouragement in your ear. “Breathe for me,” he orders softly.
“Okay, you can move,” you whisper, once the pain subsided and all that was left was the dull ache of him.
“Yeah?” he asked, a smirk playing on his lips. “Y’want me to fuck you?” Upon seeing you nod, his hips resume their movement. Tracing back to the leisurely rhythm to work more of his cock into you.
Sometime between breathless whines and small thrusts of Jake’s hips, his cock sinks almost all the way inside your cunt. Only the last inch or so remains, and that’s good enough for him. He gives no warning when he draws completely out before ramming back in.
“Jake!” You keened, going nearly limp in his arms. The press of him was all but seared into your muscles, your bones, even the pores of your flesh. Your stomach flips with bottomless pleasure that only expands with every drag of his cock. Tears tracked down your cheeks, your emotions having nowhere else to go with him taking up any and all room.
His hands are on your waist, pulling you to meet his thrusts. You hear him moan, the low sound vibrating between you. You’ve never felt so full before as he retreats and then pushes back in. The bad pain is gone, replaced by this deafening wave of ecstasy that seemed like it would never crest.
“Please, please, Jake,” you babbled as he slightly picked up his pace. His fingers dig deeper into the skin at your waist as he continues to haul you down. He meets you halfway with a sharp thrust that finally lets him bottom out. Your vision goes bright white for a moment, a watery sob ripping its way from your parted lips, as he hits your cervix.
Your cunt clenches so tight around him he outright cries out. His head falls to your sternum, his hips continuing their assault. Then he’s growling, his fangs scraping across your flesh. It starts as little nips and then graduates into him taking a group of skin between his teeth and biting. You yelp as he smooths over each mark with his tongue.
Being entirely inside you now has him turning ravenous. He can’t be careful; what little control over himself he had left vanished. His hips roll into yours, branding each and every ruinous thrust through your cunt. His cock making a permanent home for him inside you that would welcome him back each time. The mounting feeling of white-hot heat bubbling in your lower stomach came on quickly. It caught you off guard as you threw your arms over Jake’s shoulders.
He steals your keening wail as his mouth comes over yours again. He sneaks a hand between your bodies, finding the sensitive pearl of your clit. He times his thrusts with his finger’s circles, coaxing you closer and closer to that peak.
“Oh fuck yeah,” he moans, shuddering as your core flutters around him. The hand at your clit speeds up, and you claw and scratch at the back of his neck.
“J-Jake, gonna… oh god!” You’re scrambling for your sanity as you're tightening around him. “Please,” you beg, “I need… Jake, can I?”
You’re asking him for permission? It makes his brain go a tad fuzzy around the edges, you asking him if you can cum. His hips falter as he growls into your neck, the sound beguiling another needy whine from you.
“You go right ahead, baby,” he manages to groan out. “You can cum.”
You feel his cock twitch as his movements quicken. A gasp of his name sounds as your warmth clenches around him. Your back arches off the table while you cry out in pure relief, your nails leaving indents on the skin of his neck.
Jake isn’t far behind you after he watched your quivering cunt climax on his dick. His jaw goes slack as he chases his own. “My pretty girl,” he coos, face nuzzling the crook of your neck. You can hear him mumbling sweet nonsense. “Fuck me, baby, so good f’me. My girl, mine.”
The knot at the base of his spine unravels, spreading through his stomach. He gives you one, two more thrusts before he’s moaning your name and filling you with wave after wave of heat.
“God,” he whispered after a stretch of silence, shaking his head like he was overwhelmed by the sheer fact of you. “You’re unbelievable, you know that?”
There was some whincing as he pulled out of you and some rustling of clothes as he helped you dress. You felt like a limp doll in his hands as he moved you this way and that way. He took good care of you, giving the fact that it was him that had put you in such a stupor.
He lifted you easily into his arms, settling your limbs to wrap around him. You laid your head on his shoulder as he exited the lab. The halls leading to the personal quarters flashed by before you closed your eyes and drifted off to sleep.
I'm still getting use to writing for Avatar and Jake, so this might be a bit rough around the edges. I hope you all enjoyed, though!
FUCKING PEAKKKKK
