Jake Sully x Female Metkayina Reader
Word count | 12k
Warnings | explicit smut, 18+, massage, teasing, fingering, p in v, bioluminescent cum, dom Jake, dilf Jake, misbehaving cheating Jake
Read Part I & Part II here
Summary | Your heat is a tricky beast to tame, let alone with Jake coming back to offer you payment for your massage
The Metkayina folk are well adapted to the heat but today is one of those rare scorchers; the sweat clinging to your skin more heavily than usual, the blinding white sand simmering under your toes. It’s a world apart from the cool evening before, when Jake had turned up at your hut, all slick with rain.
You shift in discomfort under the thick of the mid-afternoon, sitting cross-legged on the beach as you and Tsireya weave the fishnet you’ve been working on together. It’s a lengthy project—a fibrous beast designed for heavy hauls of gliderfin that can sustain the village for weeks.
“I know it’s not been that long, but he seems sweet,” she smiles shyly, her four fingers weaving with a patient delicacy. She’s talking about Lo’ak, of course. They’ve been swimming in each other’s wakes ever since the Sullys arrived, and it brings the sappiest, dumb smile to your face to see your young friend this happy. You follow her gaze to where the Sully kids are over by the edge of the crystalline waves, messing around with something they’ve found in the shallows—chortling—Lo’ak shoving Neteyam in the usual playful dynamic that the two brothers have. Lo’ak is cute, and his fumbling yet charming mannerisms remind you so much of Jake.
You turn back to Tsireya, your face shifting into a teasing grin. “You’ll be mated before you know it,” you wink, and she glares up at you—her stripy, teal cheeks flushing maroon as she scoops up a fistful of sand and flings it at you over the net. You gasp with a giggle, your forearm coming up to protect you against the attack of pale dust.
“For your information, I’m not interested in that yet,” she remarks with her brows arched high in dignity. Tsireya’s more than a decade your junior, but her level of maturity often has you forgetting she’s not yet fully come of age. She looks every bit the Olo’eyktan’s daughter in this light, even with the sand clinging to her paddle-like forearms and a girlish blush weighing on her cheeks.
“Oh, you will be. Give it a few years,” you tease.
She scrunches her nose up, her ears pinning back in mock-annoyance as her protruding tongue tells you to behave yourself.
You break from the weaving with a puff as you drop back onto the baking, white sheet of sand, swiping away the small pearls of sweat that have collected in beads over your forehead. “Why is it this hot,” you mutter as you stretch your legs out long, your toes flexing and wiggling. You haven’t stretched at all yet today, and it always makes you feel antsy—like there’s an unfulfilled itch that needs scratching. That’s the problem with having learned to be so in-tune with your body—you’re always so aware of what it needs and when—and if there’s any tension that needs releasing, it’s very difficult to ignore.
You shelter your eyes with your forearms and sigh, circling your hips around on the sand to earn you a satisfying pop of your pelvis. The beaded ropes of your shawl roll over your breasts, and you notice your nipples reacting—stiffening into peaks straight away at the tickle of the strings.
Hmm. Your nipples are usually only this sensitive when…
You check in lower—giving your thighs a light squeeze together—and the warm, wet sensation you receive between your legs immediately confirms your suspicion.
“It’s not that hot,” Tsireya points out with a narrowed glance at your squirming frame on the sand. Her hands pause on the net in her lap as she eyes you, her dainty nostrils flaring. “Are you… in heat?”
Crap. Her words solidify your thoughts as you cup your flushed, clammy cheeks with a groan. “Eurgh, I think you’re right.” The familiar ache settles with a dull throb in your lower belly, as though your body is exhaling in full force at you finally noticing.
“You stink,” Tsireya declares with a hand thrown over her snickering lips.
“Thanks, Tsireya.” You shoot her a flat, unamused look, your eyes narrowing as a single bead of sweat rolls down your temple. “Thanks a lot.”
Female Na’vi heat cycles are as natural a phenomenon as the body craving to be fed when hungry, but it doesn’t take away the baggage of the awkward, social discomfort that comes with it. It means an inconvenient few days of being achingly horny, all the while receiving a lot of male attention—especially if you aren’t already mated. Your usual coping mechanism is to shut yourself in your marui for the duration—feigning sickness while you distract yourself with your crafts, comfort foods, and a whole lot of touching yourself.
You groan again, drawing your knees in a tight ball into your chest as you rock side to side in the sand. “I need to get home…”
“Mr Sully keeps looking at you—maybe he wants something?” Tsireya drops like a casual bombshell and your stomach plummets so hard you have to stop your core from clenching in a weird spasm.
You sit up a little too hastily, trying to keep your scouting gaze as nonchalant as possible. Your eyes eventually find him, standing with Tonowari and a few other men, taking shelter from the beating sun under the giant mangrove roots at the edge of the huts. The group seem to be deep in an important discussion—Tonowari has a hand planted firmly on one hip as he makes florid gestures with the other, his mouth moving quickly while the other men make contemplative nods and replies.
It’s impossible to hold back the small smile that settles on your lips as you notice the way in which Jake is holding himself. You’ve never seen him this relaxed before, standing with his hip jutted out to the side as he leans his weight slightly more over on one leg—his head tilting with lazy ease while he nods in response to Tonowari, one hand perched loosely over his braided leather knife holster that’s strapped across his chest. He looks incredibly alert and rejuvenated, with a certain loose energy rolling off of his beautifully carved shoulders in a posture that screams satisfaction. The dappled light from the gaps in the mangrove roots dances slowly over the lines of his lax frame as he lounges there, highlighting the comfort that your massage has clearly gifted him.
You can tell he’d slept well last night. Your hands had done him good.
Jake’s eyes are narrowed with the discussion at hand, but you can’t miss the gold glint of them in the shade as they shift sideward with a sly ease—slipping onto your gaze as he continues talking, and it immediately sends a kaleidoscope of unexpected butterflies surging through your stomach. Your dumb smile drops as quickly as your gut, and you flick your attention back to the net, where your fingers are already busy fiddling with it—the rough fibres of the weave catching on your skin.
“Strange, not sure what that could be,” you mumble under your breath before sending a sneaky glance up to Tsireya, hoping she’s oblivious to your sudden fluster—your sweaty skin humming with a new heat that has nothing to do with the sun.
If Tsireya is being at all impish, she hides it well, seeming blissfully ignorant as she inspects a small tear that’s appeared on the net. “Urgh. Ruined it,” she huffs.
“No, you haven’t. Here.” You lean forward on your knees, the chafe of your loincloth at your thighs tough to ignore as you reach out to take the section from her. “I always get this—you just need to thread it back through with this part and loop around—“
Your hands and mouth flow mechanically as your eyes creep toward the side, and sure enough—Jake’s gaze is hot on you past Tonowari’s shoulder. You freeze—your big, pale eyes are held briefly captive by his yellow ones, and you swear you catch the ghost of a smirk cross his lips—barely—before he flicks his attention back to Tonowari. Back to his conversation.
Your paddle-like tail twitches hotly on the sand behind you as your eyes drop in fixation to where your fingers are mending the tear by pure muscle memory. The fingers that had Jake’s big, gorgeous body under them just the night before, and that thought alone is enough to have you spiralling further into a heated shambles.
You have to give it to yourself—you’d kept it together well last night, considering you do want that man so badly—only losing your cool towards the end of the evening when he was propped up beneath you and suddenly looking like he very well might take the plunge and close the small space between you both. The strength it took to wrap things up then and there before things went too far is damn admirable.
But imagining that scenario now—in your current, weakened state—is something a little too dangerous that you know you need to keep a distance from.
“You’re good at this,” Tsireya grins, and your eyes snap up to her a little too sharply.
“At what?”
“Um… the net?”
“Oh. Yeah. Lots of practice,” you titter as you swipe back a damp clump of hair that’s sticking to the side of your face. “I’m… need to water. Swim. You’ve got this, right?” you ask, already standing and brushing off the suddenly suffocating coat of sand stuck to your back and thighs.
“Sure! Are you coming bac—”
“Catch up another time! Yeah?” You call over your shoulder as you make your swift escape in the direction of the sea—throwing a casual wave at the stares you receive from Neteyam and Lo’ak as you saunter past, your tail flicking with a mind of its own as the cool, salty veil begins to mingle with the heavy musk of your skin.
The water was a truly heavenly relief, but you feel much better once you’re back at your hut, sprawling out on the comfort of your fur throws and seeking a couple of quick, relieving climaxes.
Ok—a couple is modest—but when the release is this needed, who can blame you? Your body always craves to be filled with something much bigger when in heat, but your fingers do the job well enough, and it helps that it’s always easy as pie to reach orgasm during your cycle.
Your comfort is only aided as the heat of the day has dropped with the retreat of the sun behind Polyphemus, the moisture from high up in the humid air falling to create that delicious, crisp smell of night that you love—ozonic, salty and fresh. It’s a scent that you would store by the bottle if you could.
You sigh, letting your eyelids fall heavy as you sip your sweet yovofruit tea—your heat temporarily staved off as you lean back against the wall with your knees caving in, propping up your jelly-like legs that hum with the soft buzz of your evening antics.
This isn’t so bad. You can stay here, cosy in your hut for the duration of the tricky days with your tea and snacks to hand—nursing yourself back to health from the ‘sickness’ you’ve come down with—the deflection you’ll use against any nosy priers. And then, once it’s all blown over, you can get back to your big bucket of tasks.
Finishing the net with Tsireya is the first and foremost priority, but once that’s finally off of your hands, you can take that trip beyond the reef that you’ve been planning to for a while now to help collect the supply of medicinal seeds that the village is running low on. Plus, while out there, you can scout for that rare species of aquatic lichen you’ve heard mentioned by one of the wind traders in passing—the properties apparently having an incredibly relaxing effect when—
“Please don’t freak out—“
“SHIT!!!”
You jolt like a spooked iluout of water, a glob of tea jumping out from your cup and crashing down onto your evening sarashi that’s hugging your breasts. You frown down at the dark stain that’s bleeding out across your wrap before snapping your gaze up to the deep voiced culprit standing in your doorframe.
He’s standing with one hand holding back the flap of your marui and the other hovering over his mouth, barely covering his low, entertained chortle. “God, m’sorry… could see you were deep in thought and it’s all I could… I’m sorry.”
You simply blink at him for a moment—bewildered—your mouth almost curving up to laugh along with him in shock as the spilt tea starts to trickle down your stomach in little streams, but you stop yourself dead in your tracks.
Jake?!
No. Nope. Nu-uh. You scurry to your feet, sliding your empty cup onto the table as you pad over to him at the door, both of your palms colliding against his chest. “Jake, no. You can’t be here tonight,” you hiss in a strangled whisper as you glance around at the village beyond his shoulder—dark and silent bar the occasional buzzing chirps of reef ticks. Most of the frames of the nearby huts are void of glow—no one should even be up at this hour—but your current situation still has you teetering on some kind of… edge, though you don’t quite know what that edge is.
Jake’s dark eyebrows hood his eyes as he leans in a fraction, responding in an equally hushed and concerned tone. “Everythin’ ok? You hiding from something?” His head turns as he tracks your gaze behind him, taking a quick scout over the seemingly calm surroundings outside.
“No,” you hiss, your cheeks warming as your eyes drop to where your hands are still splayed out across his chest, and you drop them awkwardly.
“Then what?”
“I’m… sick.” It sounds pathetic as you say it, but you bring a balled fist up to your mouth anyway as you attempt the most convincing sounding cough you can muster. “You need to get away,” you rasp, “I don’t want to go spreading it. I’m, going to… sneeze…” you flap your hands as you turn away from him with a bottled-up chest, before exploding into a little, soft ‘htchu!
“Damn, you poor thing,” Jake winces, his face crinkling in concern. “You seemed alright last night…”
“I know. It came on so suddenly,” you murmur gravely, shaking your head in a grimace, your voice growing more husky by the second. “Must’ve been all that damn rain in the air last night…”
He hums. “Explains why you were strugglin’ so much on the beach earlier…”
Your cheeks feel like they resemble the purple yovofruit tea that’s on your chest.
Jake grumbles—sympathetically—bringing the backs of his fingers up to test your forehead temperature, and then your cheeks. “Yeah, you’re burnin’ up, alright.”
You nod with your brows knitted together, playing into the tragedy while you quietly enjoy the feeling of Jake’s heavy fingers on your face.
“Guess I stopped by at just the right time, then.”
You freeze mid-nod. “Err… what?”
“Nothin’ quite like a good massage to ease those symptoms, right?” He says, as though the sickness part doesn’t faze him in the slightest. The smirk that’s suddenly settled on his face is far too knowing for your liking, and you clear your throat, feeling the heat prickle at the back of your neck. Your ears pin back as you try to keep your voice low. “Not right now, Jake. Did you not hear me—“
“But I need to give you your payment, remember?” he interjects, ducking into your hut fully and almost bumping straight into you as he lets the heavy, woven door flap down behind him. “We made a deal, and I ain’t a fan of breakin’ promises.”
You roll your eyes to the side with a huff as you take an awkward step back from him, your hands threading under your armpits as you fold your arms tightly across your chest. Why does he have to be here now, being so insistent, when you’re desperately trying to keep yourself from devolving into a hot catastrophe? This is the exact situation you don’t need, and it seems like he isn’t making it an easy one to wiggle out of.
You drum your fingers beneath your armpits as you give Jake an uncertain glance. The level of relaxed, confident energy that’s radiating from him tonight is offensive, and you’re starting to realise—with a punch to the gut—that this is your fault. Perhaps giving him such an excellent massage was not your finest idea, and now you’re having to pay the price in the form of Jake looking and acting very sexy while practically begging to give you a damn massage.
It’s extremely difficult to stop your disobedient eyes from roaming over the features of Jake’s body that your hands have already memorized. It’s irritating how attractive he looks, dressed in little other than his most casual attire; his smoky blue loincloth draping the insides of his striped thighs, while the fibrous weave of the bands around his upper arms grip his biceps. The green and amber plaited beads of his ceremonial necklace—a symbol of his Olo’eyktan status—hug his throat in a tight embrace, and you watch as his tanhi glows and pulses in little streams down the veins of his neck and arms, branching out into a beautiful river of patterns across his chest and stomach—outlining his robust frame against the dark of your dimly lit room.
There’s something about the bulky presence of him in your hut now that the door is fully flapped shut that’s getting you more tightly wrung by the second. Your nostrils flare on their own accord at the suddenly overbearing scent of him—metal and woodsmoke—that grounding, unique Omatikaya musk that you’ve come to associate as his own, and something else… more subtle, yet pungent lingering underneath. You inhale deeper, trying to grapple at this mystery component, the scent of it almost on the tip of your tongue—
“You’re all uptight,” Jake grins, stepping in closer until he’s hovering over you, a couple of his front dreads falling forward to frame his face as he rests a large, gentle hand on your shoulder. “A lot of tension on these shoulders, huh?”
The sneaky bastard is mirroring your words from last night, but it’s hard to even register that under the searing touch of his big, rough hand on you. You jolt at the contact, as though he’s just zapped you with a static shock, and that gives him a good chuckle. “You really are on edge, aren’tcha. Must be all of that nasty sickness.”
“Jake…” you shoot him a pale, warning glare.
“What?” He’s not exactly heeding the warning in your eyes as his golden ones are already elsewhere, trailing down to where your hands are tucked tightly beneath your crossed arms. He moves his hand down to your wrist, giving it a small, playful tug. “We can start by relaxing here, hm? No good being all closed off like that.”
Fuck, he knows. He has to know. And he’s playing along—hard—and with a damn smirk on his face.
You release the breath you realise you were holding as you allow him to free your hands—letting your arms fall down to your sides—and Jake looks pleased, his grin growing across his stupid, handsome face. “There you go. See? Bet you’re feelin’
better already.”
You watch him with laser eyes as he steps past you and starts snooping around your hut with his tail swooshing behind him, the tip flicking at the end of each lazy arc. The hearth in the centre of your hut isn’t lit tonight—the day having been far too hot to warrant such flames—so you only have a couple of small lanterns lit on the table to give off the cosy light you desire. But other than that… everything in your room is in the exact same place as last night, so it makes you uneasy that Jake is glancing around with a strange, narrow-eyed expression, as if something is different and he’s trying to work out what.
He saunters over to your table, dragging two fingers across the surface before reaching for the small bowl that’s filled with oil—the oil that you used to massage him last night.
“Hm. Thought I could smell something,” Jake murmurs, bringing it up to his flaring nostrils.
“Careful with that,” you blurt, springing to his side quicker than an arrow from a bowstring as you bring your hand up over his to support the bowl. You’re not sure why, but it feels strangely… dangerous, like he’s nosing into something a bit too personal, even though it’s just your damn massage oil.
Jake’s ears twitch towards you in amusement. “What? Afraid I’ll spill it on those pretty furs of yours?” He nods to the pile of pale, fluffy rugs resting on the woven floor beside the unlit hearth. The rugs that, just hours earlier, you’d been writhing on with your pussy stuffed full of your fingers.
“No, it’s just…” you falter with flat ears as you look up and meet his amused gaze. He’s watching you far too closely for comfort with his big, honey-like eyes, and your weak knees threaten to give out as you realise it’s not the oil that’s dilating his pupils like that.
Distraction. Distraction could be your saviour.
You sink your fingertips beneath the layer of thick oil in the bowl before pulling them back out, rubbing the viscous fluid between them with your thumb and presenting it under Jake’s nose. “I’ll bet you can’t guess what it is?”
His brow quirks, accepting the challenge gladly as he shuts his eyes and inhales your fingers a lot deeper than he had the bowl, his chest expanding to make room for
his puffed-up lungs. His exhale is a ticklish plume of hot air against your oil-covered fingers as he sighs out with the word “sweet” between his lips before taking another hit—grabbing your fingers in his free hand and holding them still while he completes his olfactory study. “Milk…” he sighs again, his eyes flicking open on you to reveal golden irises almost swallowed whole. “Mmm, I know. It’s coconut, right?”
“Wow… bingo,” a sharp laugh escapes you—genuinely surprised that he’s been able to pin that so fast and accurately. You lean up on unsteady tiptoes towards the bowl in his hand, taking a sniff yourself—the swirl of overwhelming tropical sweetness almost dizzying under your sensitive Na’vi nose. “Mm.” You let out a little sigh. “I could eat this stuff.”
You regret opening your silly mouth immediately as the words hang in the air like smoke in a cramped hut, and you tense—your eyes flicking open as you feel Jake’s entertained gaze sliding down your exposed neck. His hand is big enough to swallow yours entirely as he holds your oily fingers, and you can feel the slight, rhythmic pulse in his thumb. It’s a much faster and heavier thrum than you expect, and it takes you by a surprise that makes you wobble on your toes.
Jake’s chuckle escapes him in a quiet hiss as he gives you a once-over. “Steady there. How ‘bout we sit down, hm? Don’t want you passin’ out on me from this fever.”
Your mouth twitches wordlessly as he guides you by the hand like a sick patient to your place of rest—the place that’s still humming with the trace of your earlier release. You can’t fool yourself—your hut reeks of your sexual heat, and a blotchy flush starts creeping across your chest and shoulders at the thought that if you can smell it, Eywa only knows what a susceptible Na’vi male like Jake must be thinking.
He’s still holding the bowl in one hand as he gestures for you to sit, and despite your shaky knees, you manage to bend down more or less gently into a stiff, cross-legged position—drawing your dark waves over one shoulder as your tail curls neatly beside you. Your ears follow him like satellites as he moves behind you and clambers to his own seat with a soft pop of his knees, the tuft of his tail brushing past you on the way down.
“Agh, gettin’ old,” Jake chuckles, placing the bowl beside him with heightened care as to not spill any oil on your rugs. “Not as virile as I used to be.”
You can’t help but huff a small laugh at that, and it releases a little of the tension that’s clamming up your shoulder blades. “You’re not old.”
“Old enough,” he counters with a grin, shuffling up closer so his hitched legs are flanking you on either side like two safety barriers, and you feel the immense heat from his thighs radiating into your skin like an open flame. As much as you’re glad the fire isn’t lit—because by Eywa you would probably combust—you wish the crackle of flames could at least cover the acute sound of your heart hammering against your ribs and the soft, slow squelch of Jake starting to spread the coconut oil between his palms.
Wait… old enough for what?
“Now, don’t laugh,” he continues frankly. “Ain’t no expert like you are.”
“Ah, I’m not sure I am,” you titter back with airplane ears, drumming your fingers against your shins in your lap—your mind starting to whirl as your heart skips with rapid, spiralling anticipation for those very slick sounding hands to land on your back.
“Damn, this stuff is thick,” Jake murmurs as his hands glide over one another with a squish, in no apparent hurry at all as he plays with the texture of the syrupy, aromatic substance. “Feels like butter—“
“Jake. I need your hands on me, please,” you blurt quietly, your ears sinking further to your skull. It’s a meagre whine that comes out of nowhere, and the despair in your tone fills you with utter horror. You wish you didn’t have to be this pathetic, but with your chest heaving suddenly with the need to be touched, you’re left with little other choice. Your stupid heat pulses through you with a damn vengeance—the blotchy flush sitting on your skin burning you like a kiln, and you clamp your arms across your stomach, trying to hold it all in.
Your breath catches in your chest as a sudden blanket of treacly, delicious warmth shrouds your shoulder blades, cloaking you in pure heaven as Jakeplaces his hands on you at your request—splaying out all five digits before pressing them into your skin with the exact, devastating pressure your body is aching for.
“Fuck,” you whisper with your arms falling down loosely in your lap, your head lolling forward on its limp support as though he’s just drugged you.
“Jesus, sweetheart… should’ve said something sooner. Could’ve been helpin’ you out,” Jake murmurs—gliding long, blissful sweeps across the expanse of your back, his hands slipping over your curves like liquid silk with the slick of the coconut oil.
His fingers are already exploring around the sides of your mid-waist—encompassing the dips of the hourglass—his thumbs pushing deep yet tender digs into the soft flesh on either side of your spine. He rolls them all the way up, to the tips of your shoulders, before giving a good squeeze, and dragging them back down.
Fuck, it feels electric and comforting all at once. For a man claiming to be no expert in the field of massage, you immediately realise that Jake is extremely talented, and very modest. It makes you wonder what other talents he might have hidden up his sleeve, especially with all five of those fingers. The hot friction of his oil-coated pads are quickly sending long, warm ropes snaking into your stomach, ropes that are settling comfortably into an arousing coil deep in the pit of your groin.
Your little breathy moans are becoming harder to control and more pitiful sounding with each pass of Jake’s hands—your body reacting with a delicious shudder every time he reaches the back of your neck. He draws his fingers and thumb into a pinch as he rubs down the column of your neck—digging in a little more beneath your scalp—and you start seeing stars behind your eyelids.
“Is the pressure ok?” he mumbles, his voice a pleasant rasp behind your ear as his hands come to hover on your lower back, and he spreads his fingers out over your hips—his thumbs deliberately pushing into the two little dimples just above your glutes. That earns him a gorgeous little noise, and he takes it as an opportunity to pull you back closer to him—deeper into the hollow of his massive frame behind you, and your breath catches in your chest again without warning at the warm, half-hard bulge you can feel in his loincloth.
Your brain—or what’s left of it—tries to grapple for a last thread of dignity; some decency, perhaps—but as it’s sliding down your spinal cord quicker than molten
wax and your ovaries are screaming Jake’s name at the top of their lungs, you realise that you might just have to accept that you’re playing a losing game.
Jake’s fucking you tonight, and there’s not a single damn thing on Pandora that can help it.
“Can I take this off, baby?” He whispers beside your ear, leaning over your shoulder to take a look at you as his hands hover over the back of the sarashithat he soaked with tea when he spooked you earlier.
Baby. Oh Eywa. Your head flutters with something that resembles a nod as his fingers slide like anchors into the lip of your cloth wrap. He undresses you with watchful eyes over your shoulder, shimmying the tea-stained band down with slow patience until it drops to your hips—releasing your big, heat-swollen breasts.
You lean back into the crook of his neck as your eyes flutter closed, a quiet groan escaping you at the cool sensation of the air against your hardening nipples. Freeing them feels like a mercy and a provocation all at once—as though the air itself is caressing them—and you arch the small of your back against Jake in pleasure, your hands landing on his propped-up knees like an armrest.
“Need me to be gentle?” He asks, leaning down to ghost his lips over your temple as his eyes remain transfixed on your breasts. The intimate act feels oddly natural, considering Jake has never kissed or even touched you in this way before, and it takes you by surprise. It feels so normal, and right.
“Yes, please,” you breathe, looking up at him—and it’s only now that his gaze breaks from your chest, landing on your hazy green, pleading eyes. Jake’s own eyes are swimming with a muted fire that sends a fresh lick of flame straight to your core.
“So polite despite yourself,” he smirks wryly. “I admire that.” His ears twitch forward as his face swivels back to your breasts for a beat, before returning to hold your big-eyed stare with his hands snaking around the sides of your breasts from under your armpits. “Been admiring a lot about you.”
You gasp at the feel of Jake’s oily, warm hands slipping slowly over your skin—your little lips forming an ‘o’ at him—and he mimics you, his mouth dropping open before crawling into a savagely dirty grin. His dilated pupils balloon an impossible fraction more as he starts to knead at your weighty breasts with a soft gentleness you wouldn’t expect from hands that large and calloused. Capable hands—conditioned from years of holding up heavy metal yet softened by countless nights of carrying his sleepy young to bed over his shoulder. You can only imaginewhat else he can do with them—but right now—with the way your mind is spinning out of control from his touch, you can’t focus on anything other than what he’s doing to you.
You moan feebly, your brow pinching as you glance down in front of you to the cause of your insanity. Your legs have bowed together—your knees collapsed in with your loincloth lost in the tight space between your thighs—the thighs that are clenching automatically with every manipulation of Jake’s searing hands on your breasts. The warm lubricant of the coconut oil is the perfect aid for his heavy thumbs as they circle over the tender, aching plush, and the slick, wet sound of it vibrates all the way down to your toes.
You wince sharply between your teeth, your hands tightening on his knees as his fingers pinch the stiff peaks of your nipples—picking on the painfully sensitive buds.
“These sore?” Jake rumbles sympathetically, his flat nose pressing to your temple to graze another kiss over the clammy hair that’s stuck to it—pecking you better—and the warm plume of his breath under his nostrils makes you shiver.
“Y-yes,” you sigh. “But it feels good, too…”
“Yeah?” he mumbles, watching what he’s doing to you out the corner of his eyes as he pinches your nipples a fraction harder between his thumbs and forefingers before giving a small, delicious twist—making you gasp noiselessly—and you feel his breath growing heavier at the side of your face, his bulge now fully solid against your low back. “That feel good, baby?”
“Mmh,” you whimper, your head slumping further back against his collarbone, and this time, he leans down to find your face—a single dread toppling forward as he catches your swollen bottom lip between both of his in an agonisingly slow tease. He pulls back again, just enough to enjoy your green, glazed over eyes, before claiming your parted mouth as his entirely.
Your eyes roll somewhere far back in your head at the sensation of Jake’s lips. At his warm, demanding tongue that pushes its way in—sweeping over yours with a slick, wet sound that sends sharp sparks shooting through your core. At the taste of him—slightly bitter—filling your mouth with the heady, masculine pheromones that you’ve been desperately trying to coat your palate with since he arrived. His chin and jaw is rough with his unique, short stubble of hair—something so interesting that you’ve never experienced before during kissing—and the sensation sits between a tickle and a burn as he moves against your soft face. You can feel the vibration of his heart against his chest—a heavy, quick thud that matches your own, and you notice how his thighs tense under your hands, how his cock pushes tighter against you every time he drinks in your little moans.
As you drown in in the essence of Jake, you’re suddenly struck with a wave of panic at how your twitching body—a ticking bomb on the very short fuse of your heat—is reacting far too well to his incessant nipple teasing, his kissing, and the feel of his big dick behind you. The nipple stimulation is releasing all kinds of weird and pleasantly fuzzy hormones surging into your bloodstream, ones that have the power to make your hips stutter and your stomach heave. It’s a lot—too much and too soon, and with the way your thighs are clenching together, your hips jolting up in little, random spasms, you realise—with paling horror—that this is going to make you come.
The realisation settles like a stone in the pit of your stomach as Jake breaks from the kiss—his smug lips crudely wet and glistening—only to hunch forward over you—trailing his hot, rough mouth down to the throbbing peaks of your tits, replacing the friction of his thumbs on your nipples with the overwhelming feel of his savvy tongue. He sucks on the stiff, sensitive buds with a desperate hunger while his broad hands coast down either side of your waist—halting over the wide of your trembling hips to ground you with a gentle sweep of his thumbs back and forth, over the straps of your loincloth.
“Jake!” You whimper, digging your nails into his knees as he starts to get a little too excited with those sharp teeth of his, nipping with his fangs at your hard, tender areolas. The sharp sting very quickly settles into a warm flood of pleasure under the forgiving swirl of his soft wet tongue, and you’re right back to square one—the pressure between your legs swelling up double time after the pinch of pain.
You fidget under his relentless suckling, your embarrassment growing as quickly as the throbbing thrum of the building climax between your thighs. Jake can’t know that what he’s merely doing now is enough to have you completely undone. He cannot find out you’re this weak. There’s still the chance that he could be unaware of this whole situation, and you can walk away from this little escapade without the humiliation—come back to it all another day when you’re less likely to explode into smithereens under Jake’s heavenly mouth and hands…
The thoughts are a pitiful attempt at distraction, lost under the humming buzz of white noise as your warm, foggy climax rushes through you with a torment under Jake’s low, vibrational groan. The quick yet intense pleasure beats at your swollen folds as you hold your thighs clamped together very still—your body turning rigid—your stare fixed up at the ceiling beside Jake’s nuzzling head as you attempt to ride the orgasm out as coolly as you can muster.
Crap, fuck, mmmughh—
“Mmm,” Jake hums idly as your nipple releases from his mouth with a little pop. His eyelids flutter open as he brings his head back up to you with a shit-eating grin, and you try to shrink further back under the shelf of his jaw to hide your burning face.
“Hey, woah,” he coos, his voice wrapped up in a smirk as he brushes your cheek with his big knuckles, leaning out to the side to get a good look at you. “No need to be embarrassed, sweetheart. You’re allowed to feel good. Only fair after what you did for me last night.”
“Jake, this is a little… different,” you huff, hot and a little desperately as he’s now forcing your head to tilt to the side as his flat, feline nose nuzzles against you, planting strings of wet-lipped kisses along your jaw, his hand roaming its way to the centre of your loincloth. You feel his hard cock give a little nudge against your back through the barrier of its restraint, and you swallow at how incredible and hot it feels pressed up against you.
“Pssh, what difference does it make,” Jake winks, as though—in fact—making you come from his mouth over your breasts is actually how the massage comes as standard. “Still getting the tension outta ya one way or another,” he jokes lewdly as he slides his cupped hand over the throbbing mound beneath your tweng. “Christ, sweetheart. Think I’ve found the source of that fever of yours.”
Your ears go droopy as you lean into him, pushing your weight into his touch. “So much for ‘I’m no expert’,” you jest with a sigh.
A smooth chuckle reverberates from his chest at that, and you quiver while watching his fingers disappear underneath the top flap of your loincloth, over the soaked material underneath that’s clinging to the outline of your pussy. His fingers squelch the cloth against your swollen heat as he feels around—figuring out what he’s working with—and your willing thighs fall open to make room for him. Your head falls back against him as you release a moan—a sound that’s fast becoming a repetitive melody against the hushed quiet of your hut this evening.
Jake’s smile pinches to the side in a pout of contemplation. “Hm. I think we can do better than this,” he mutters, pulling away—leaving you aching from the loss of his touch and body heat as his knees slide back from your sides, and you struggle to stop yourself from whining and reaching for him like a needy child. He shuffles to a crouch, resting his elbows on his knees as he looks at you with an expectant grin. “Wanna lie down on your front for me, sweetheart?”
You don’t need to be asked that twice, keenly getting yourself to all fours and sliding to your stomach at his feet, your tail scooting over to one side as an invitation you don’t even realise you’re sending him.
“Thassit,” Jake murmurs, and he doesn’t hesitate to climb over—mounting you with a flick of his tail—shrouding you in his shadow against the lantern light as he traps you between the thick pillars of his arms and thighs. He hovers there a beat longer than necessary, before falling back to his haunches at your feet.
“Comfy?” He asks, giving your calves a slow, pleasant rub.
You hum, slipping your forearms under your cheek as a pillow to rest on. The soft tufts of the fur beneath you caress your oiled up breasts and stomach like a warm, ticklish hug, and without thinking, you circle your hips—chasing a delicious, relieving crack of your spine.
“Slinky little thing aren’tcha,” Jake laughs quietly as he leans over to the bowl, collecting a fresh slick of oil for his palms. “Really know your way round yourself.”
You titter as your ears flick back at that sound again—so squelchy and vulgar—and it tightens the hot coil that’s still lingering in your groin. It doesn’t help that Jake keeps talking like that, his voice all deep and gravelly and sending shivers through you. The rough strings hanging from his loincloth tickle your feet as he wraps his hands around your ankles, his thumbs brushing slow sweeps over the bones—until he runs them further down, to the bottoms of your sensitive soles. He gives them a good squeeze, and it makes you jolt with an involuntary giggle. Jake’s face darts up to you at the sound, his expression contorting into a wicked grin. “Ticklish?”
“Right there,” you laugh, and he shows no mercy at this discovery—his thumbs probing into the spongey pads beneath your heels before he wiggles his fingertips down to your flaring toes, and that makes you squeal uncontrollably.
“Shh,” Jake hisses in a hushed chuckle, moving away from your feet and shuffling forward on his knees so his weight is straddling your calves. “Keep it down, Jeez.”
“You’re making it very hard,” you hiss back, your ribs vibrating into the furs with your muffled giggling as he continues the ticklish assaults.
“You ticklish here?” He teases as he traces those loose, wiggling fingers over the soft backs of your jelly-like knees, up the lines of the tanhi on your thighs with a touch deliberately light enough to make your legs shake and your core squirm in peril.
“Shit, stop it!” you moan through a fresh fit of giggles—now gasping for air as he’s leaning over you, trailing the tickles up to the sides of your hips with his teeth bared in a silent, wolfish grin. He moves to the dips of your waist—your most sensitive spot—clawing with all those tremblingly light finger pads and thumbs and you just can’t take it anymore, your arms rushing back to bat him away as you twist on the teetering edge of hysteria. “Please, Jake, stop!!”
He tickles your sides again like a vice, tucking back in with another relentless wave until your hips are bucking up at him frantically and you feel like you might wet yourself. “You beggin’ me?” he taunts, his voice full of relish at the fits of silent, breathless laughter coming from you as your hands swat blindly behind you, slapping at his forearms.
Your flapping hands are caught in an abrupt, firm clutch, and your breath catches—the laughter falling flat in your lungs. Your tail whips his thigh in an automatic retort, and he transfers both of your wrists to one hand, freeing up his other so he can hold the base of your swishing tail still. “Calm down, sweetheart,” he chuckles. “Can’t relax you when you’re all flailin’ around like a nutcase.”
Your squirming stops momentarily. You fucking what? How dare he call you a nutcase when he’s the one tickling you like some sort of savage? You fumble as you try to conjure a remark to that—your irritation at Jake being a cheeky prick bleeding across your skin in a prickly, hot flush and you writhe again—purposefully—moaning your frustration while under his hold. Your sulk ends abruptly as the hand that was holding your tail claps down against your backside in a blunt slap, and you jolt from the sudden impact—going rigid and wide-eyed as a sizzling, hot sting starts to rush to the surface of the skin where Jake’s hand just struck you.
His splayed hand comes back down to rest upon it, rubbing a slow, sympathetic caress over your throbbing skin. “Did that hurt a bit, doll?” he rumbles, his voice a low coo laced with a taunt. “M’sorry.”
Your jaw hits the ground.
“You’re fucking not—“
A sharp, wet THWACK reverberates around the silent room—a harder spank that hits you with a force that tells you to watch your damn mouth—and Jake lunges forward on his knees to quickly muzzle your loud cry with the palm that just inflicted the very damage. You feel every nerve in your struck backside catching fire with a heat that rivals the blossoming fever deep in your groin, already knowing the blood is rushing to the surface of your skin in the shape of his handprint without needing to see it.
“Shh,” Jake hisses again, his breath tickling the shell of your ear. “Don’t go wakin’ up the whole damn village, sweetheart.”
Your eyes are big and glassy as you roll them up to meet his heavily half-lidded ones. He holds your defenseless gaze with his hand still covering your mouth as his other finally releases its shackle around your wrists, and your hands fall to the floor—your fingers clawing into the plush of the furs. You hold your breath beneath his palm as his warm, oily thumb contacts a sensitive pussy fold that’s peeking out at the side of your loincloth—brushing past it—before his hand loops around in a stroke over your rear, then back to the same spot with a more deliberate stroke.
You lose focus on his stare as the shivery heat takes over you, your body throbbing with a rage for that thumb to be buried inside of you—his fingers, his cock. You wish his hand wasn’t blocking your mouth as you have the sudden desperate urge to beg Jake for all of it—shamelessly—but as you’re thoroughly muzzled, you settle with rolling your hips up to meet his brushing thumb with little, stifled moans into his palm—grinding against it every time it rubs past your pussy. It’s a tease that has you coiling up inside, your muscles clenching against the sopping material of your tweng.
You can hear Jake’s chest growing heavier as he sneaks his thumb under the wet material to push it to the side, spurred on by your whimpering noises. Your thighs quiver and tense up as he plays with your slick lips before sinking the weight of his thumb fully into your cunt—the thick, warm digit immediately getting absorbed by the hungry suction of you.
“Fuck,” Jake breathes, captivated at the way his thumb disappears into your slit to the hilt, and you feel the curse through the vibration of his hand over your mouth. He shuffles on his heels, his fingers twitching against your mouth as he draws his thumb all the way back out—circling it around your open entrance with a wet squelch—before slipping it back in deeper, bending at the knuckle and pushing it down into the soft, spongey spot inside you.
Your pussy starts pulsing around his thumb within seconds—the stretch a relieving pressure that matches the intensity of your heat, and your hips buck up frantically to get more of that friction you need. His thumb slips out only to be instantly replaced with two big fingers—his pinky slipping underneath to give your swollen clit some attention—and with this position—he picks up to a rhythmic pace, fingering you with an intention no longer to tease, but to get you off.
Jake’s aroused eyes flick up to where you’re muffling against his hand like a drowning otterfin, your knuckles paling where you’re gripping onto the fur in little rhythmic clenches. Your breath suddenly hisses out in a sharp, desperate rush as he releases his grip on your mouth just enough for you to move your lips, and you immediately push your tongue against his palm with a loud whimper, lapping at his palm with a desperate, unadulterated thirst. His skin tastes of the sea breeze that’s still clinging to him from the day as he curls his fingers into your mouth, and you take them—sucking on them as hard as you wish it was the thick length hidden under his loincloth instead, your cheeks hollowing out around them as you bob back and forth.
“Mm, shit baby, you like that?” Jake’s gravelly groan vibrates through his trembling fingers in your mouth, and he slips another finger into your slit to join his other two, stretching you deliciously wide as he starts to pump them in and out faster and with more pressure, hitting the spot that has your walls clenching onto him in a vice grip. He muffles your wails with his salty fingers stuffed deep into your mouth as you writhe until your climax finally breaks over you onto his sodden, squelching hand, sending violent, delicious tremors shaking through your entire frame.
Your trembling hands come up to pull his fingers from your mouth, and you gasp for breath, holding onto Jake’s wrist as you start to lick wide strokes over every inch of his hand in a frantic, orgasm-drunk daze. He pulls back, leaving you chasing him as he straightens back up onto his heels—giving you the space to roll around and face him.
You’re met with the sight of Jake with a flushed, arrogant grin sat on his face—his teeth bared and glinting with pure smug, masculine pride at what he’s just done to you—and it’s enough to have you jolting upright, possessed by a fierce, burning heat flaming through your veins.
The air is punched from Jake's lungs as you lunge for him, pinning him onto his back against the hard coolness of the woven floor. His forearm slams against the ground whilst his other lands on the small of your waist as he’s swallowed up in your frenzied, open-mouthed kissing.
The restraint you held in your hands just the night prior is a distant fog of a memory as they run tremulously over every inch of his soft, warm skin now—feeling him up without shame or a second thought—filling your palms with the contours of his shoulders, the strong plush of his chest, the small peaks of his nipples. You break from his lips to trail your open mouth down the length of his neck, and Jake rolls his head back with a low rumble in his throat to let you. You drape your teeth and tongue over his strings of tanhi, over the fibres and beads of his necklace—enjoying every inch of the intoxicating, salty taste of him. You get lower—finding his collar bones, his chest, his stomach—dragging possessive licks over the two moles next to his navel, your dark coils of hair falling in a curtain around your face.
“Good God, baby… think I’m forgiven for spankin’ you, huh?” Jake mutters under his breath as he enjoys the view of you worshipping his body, his hooded eyes following your descending head lazily.
“I haven’t decided yet,” you breathe as you find your fingers fumbling in the ties of his loincloth. His abs clench as he flexes his core upward to reach down and help you out—finishing off what you can’t manage—before untying yours too as you tug the band of your sarashiup over your head and toss it to the side.
Your loincloth drops down between Jake’s thighs, and a low, hungry sounding growl escapes him as he peers down at your fully exposed cunt hovering over him. “Oh fuck, that’s nice,” he sighs, his bottom lip getting pinched under his teeth as he glides his fingers down the glint of your smooth, wide centre under the dim light. He pushes his thumb into the little erect button that is your clit, and it makes you gasp.
“ Jake,” you wince, your brows pinching together as your thighs clench into his at the overwhelming touch.
“Sensitive?” he asks, although his thumb doesn’t budge.
“Very,” you sigh out, your eyes fluttering shut at the small, circular massage he’s starting to tease your clit with.
“Need somethin’ bigger to help you out?”
Your dazed eyes fling back open, and you glance down to see that he’s shifted his loosened loincloth out of the way and is caressing his thick length in his other hand with a feral grin on his face, his ears flared low and heavy next to his head. A hot pulse shoots like a spark through your clit at the sight, bumping against Jake’s thumb with a strength you’re certain he can feel.
Well, fuck. The heavy, upward curve of the beast is more stunning than you wish it was for your own heated sanity’s sake, and your dilated eyes roam helplessly over it—over the little, pretty glowing freckles of tanhi that throb up the veins of his glorious, soft blue shaft. Your dumbed mouth parts to make way for the thick, potent smell that hits you in full force now that his manhood is fully exposed—that heady aroma that you were catching whiffs of earlier now swirling around your head and making you dizzy. You want to reach for it immediately, desperate to feel the thick weight burying deep inside of your aching heat.
Jake chuckles deeply, his teeth glinting in the lantern light as he clearly sees you looking like you’re just about ready to pounce on him again. “You like it?” He teases, his breath coming out ragged as he strokes himself, and you watch him with your mouth falling further agape—hypnotised by the languid movement of it in his hand. The thin veil of his foreskin rolls up to conceal the swollen purple tip—and back down the thick centre again—revealing the exposed head glossy with a sleek layer of faintly bioluminescent pre-cum that glows softly in the dark of the room. The size of the beast in his cupped grip looks like it could satiate you for the entirety of your heat cycle, and as you stare at it—wide-eyed and practically drooling—your brain has a small battle over the conflict of whether you want to bury it ten inches down your throat within the next 5 seconds or cram it straight into your fluttering heat.
Your heat quickly decides for you as you whine with an orgasmic contraction from Jake’s quickening thumb circles—a hint for you to hurry the fuck up as he also groans, his head falling back against the floor with his quickening tugs. His hips make little rolls up, and you take a swift plunge—shuffling forward on your shaky knees to line your entrance up with the tip of his erection. You can feel the heat radiating off of the head like a physical weight against your wet centre, and Jake is quick to move his hands to clutch your hips, guiding you down the length of him. The air hangs thick as you both hold your breath and watch as your slick folds swallow him up whole.
You barely hear Jake choke on his growl over your own brutal whine as he penetrates you—stretching you wide to fill that empty space that’s been bubbling like a furnace with your heat—and your vision blurs at the immense relief of it, as though two starving elements of nature have finally converged. You feel his bulbous cock-head bump against something deep inside of you, and your pussy clenches around him with a fierce, unyielding grip that refuses to let him go.
“Oh fuck, Jake,” you whine as your body hastily gears into action to take what it needs—grinding down into him while your hands come to fall behind you on his thick, tensing thighs. Jake anchors you by your hips with a strong grasp, and you can feel the strength of his arms working in tandem with your grinding rhythm—helping you move back and forth to achieve the satisfying vigour he knows you need.
“God, you’re tight,” he rasps, his voice vibrating through your body as his legs twitch against the floor between your straddled thighs. His brows furrow over his dark, blown out eyes as he watches your bouncing chest as you ride him—fast—using him to fulfil nature’s need as you fuck yourself to the brink. His hips roll up in short but powerful thrusts to meet yours—your mingling sweat and bodily fluids creating an obscene, slick slapping sound around the hushed hut.
“Mm, your cock is so good,” you whimper with your spine in a deep arch, your face tossed to the heavens as you become a breathless, unravelled mess of pleasure upon the man you were thinking of when you fingered yourself earlier. “Right there… oh fuck, oh Jake—”
Your clit is already stimulated to the throbbing edge, aided by the friction of his rough groin rubbing against you as you move back and forth. Your chest heaves in short, shallow breaths as you come apart—quick and hard—releasing a hot gush of your slick arousal over his stomach as you silently scream, your knees burning from the graze of friction against the floor.
“Ugh, fuck, good girl,” Jake growls proudly with his ears pinned back, grabbing a hold of both of your jiggling breasts in a tight squeeze as he watches the mess you’ve made on him trickling down his sides. “Takin’ all that heat out on me so well, angel.”
You falter with a shaky, cracked whine as you fail forwards onto him, your sweaty chest collapsing flush against Jake’s rapid heart. He lets you regain your composure, kissing the top of your head as he sweeps slow strokes over your damp hair while you lie on him in a fucked-out daze. He’s still buried deep inside of you, and you feel his throbbing length give the occasional, impatient twitch in reaction to the teasing of your walls’ sporadic, post-orgasm clenching.
It’s only now that you’re satiated in a melted shambles upon the bed of his chest that Jake takes the reins from you, driven by biological instinct to finish what needs to be finished—to take you the way he needs—and empty the load that’s been building up all day at the call of your heat. He kisses your forehead one more time as he sits up with your limp body in his lap, his arms tightening in a loop around the small of your waist as he gets to his knees and shuffles you back onto your furs.
The fluffy material feels stifling as it sticks to your sweaty back, but you’re on such an ethereal high from coming so much that you barely care to notice it. You only notice the gorgeous man that’s currently pinning you from above, his dreads almost tickling your flushed cheeks as he looks down at you with an unrestrained pride that makes you feel like you’re all his, even if it is just for the night.
“You’re so fuckin’ pretty,” Jake slurs in a deep rumble, his golden eyes big and glazed as he looks down into yours like he means it. As if, for a moment, you’re the only girl on Pandora he has eyes for.
He starts moving inside of you again, pushing his weight down to make your thighs straddle open wider for his thrusting hips. You stare back up at him as you watch him take you with little, shallow breaths escaping your parted lips, the plush of your breasts rolling back and forth every time he bottoms out against the limit of what he can, hitting that deliciously fulfilling spot that makes your toes curl against him.
Jake lifts himself just enough to lower his gaze between your thighs—getting a good view of the action down there—watching how his lubed-up shaft slips in and out, until that show proves to be a bit too good to watch, and he moans, his face rolling to the ceiling in a slack-jawed expression of pure bliss. It leaves his throat exposed to you, and you enjoy this new view of his muscular neck being squeezed tightly by his Olo’eyktan necklace. It’s a stomach dropping reminder that you’re currently being fucked by a very misbehaving man who isn’t yours—and you reach up to feel it, running your fingers past the beaded band over his slick skin. You can see his pulse jumping beneath his jaw rapidly as he pants with the effort of burying his weight inside of you, his face twitching slightly with each wave of pleasure.
You reach for his shoulders—your fingers knitting the muscles that are tensed up in an entirely different way than last night—offering him a massage while he works hard to fuck himself into you. It’s all you want—to please him, to make him feel good, and it’s the least you can do for how good he’s made you feel tonight.
Jake looks back down at you, his parted lips shifting into a strained smile. “Treatin’ me well even while I’m drivin’ you into the mat, huh?” he chuckles jaggedly. “God, what’d I do to deserve an angel like you?”
He leans down to capture your lips in a kiss—one that’s messy and urgent—his teeth catching on your bottom lip, and he releases a deep groan into your mouth as he falters under a strong orgasmic contraction, one that you can feel as his thick wet base twitches rhythmically at your entrance. “Oh fuck, baby, this cunt’s gonna make me cum,” he rasps, his hips hitching in a sudden, heavy stutter.
He adjusts himself so he can clutch onto the plush flesh of your thigh, pushing you further into the floor with his weight to work at an angle slightly to the side that has you gripping onto his dreads with a moan. He picks up to a much faster and rougher pace than you could ever ride him with, and his grip on your thigh becomes bruising as he gets close. You can feel how his scrotum is wrinkled tightly with pent up pressure—a coiled spring ready to snap—and it has you stifling a wail that you really wish you could cry out with if it wasn’t for the fact it’s the dead of night, and there could be susceptible Na’vi ears in the huts nearby. You’re unsure if you can physically handle another orgasm, but—despite yourself—you decide to help Jake out by using what little strength you have left in your legs to snake around his waist and latch yourself to him like an ikran to a cliffside.
Jake mouths quiet, garbled cusses next to your ear as his back arches up with a rigid tension, his tail a mad snake as it undulates behind him in spastic thrashes through the air. His legs shuffle against the floor like he’s trying to crawl impossibly further up inside you. You bury your face into his warm sweaty neck, biting down on him to cover up your weary cry as he has your tight walls clenching up with one last climax—a final surge of exhausted, spent heat releasing from you, and it’s enough to have Jake tumbling over his well-earned edge.
His breath hisses out next to your ear in a ragged, desperate rush, and for a dazed moment—you think he might not have it in him to pull out with the way he keeps pounding you—that he’s going to fill you with his seed, and by Eywa your fertile body would take to that right now. But alas—as much as you’re dying to know how it feels to be filled up with Jake’s hot load—bearing a half-reef, half-forest child of a Sky Person warrior wouldn’t be the best idea—all things considered—and Jake’s feeble amount of remaining logic clearly knows it, too.
You can only admire his sheer strength as Jake quickly pulls out—reluctantly—his length weeping as it’s wrenched from its tight, hot paradise with a slick pop sound. He ejaculates immediately in his rough, pumping fist as he’s hunched over you, staring at your body through a hooded, unfocused gaze. A deep, guttural rumble vibrates from his throat as he shoots hot, glowing ropes up over your front—one shooting out with enough force that it hits you in the jaw and makes you flinch, before landing in a trickling stream down your chest. It almost burns as it hits you, but cools quickly, and you stare down in awe at your skin glowing with his bioluminescent release.
“Oh fuck,” he pants with a slightly hysterical hiss of a laugh as his forehead flops against your shoulder. He releases his twitching shaft from his grip—needing both of his hands to hold himself up on either side of you as he tries to remember how to breathe—letting his heavy, spent length hang between your thighs with a thin, glowing string of his release trailing from the slit.
Fuck. How does the sight of that still warm your completely satiated loins? You can’t help but reach down over your stomach to take a swipe at the thick liquid he’s spilled on you—testing the consistency between your fingers and thumb—parting them to watch it make a sticky glowing bridge. You flick your eyes up to Jake’s completely fucked, hazy stare, and you watch his big pupils flare a little as you take a taste—slipping a coated fingertip between your lips and giving it a suck. As you can guess, it tastes as deliciously salty and bittersweet as the rest of him. If only you could bottle that essence…
“Dirty girl…” Jake rumbles with a smirk twisting his face.
“Sorry,” you grin as your face flushes impossibly more. “You taste good…”
“Yeah?” He pushes the wide, flat bridge of his nose down to rest against yours, his eyelashes tickling you. “Maybe next time I’ll make you swallow the lot of it.”
The notion of a next time and the thought of gulping back the entire hot, heavy rush of Jake’s release makes you all flustered despite your heavy eyelids, but as he rolls to his back on the fur beside you with a deep hum through his nose, bringing an arm up to rest under his head like his work here is complete, you know that you need to stop being such a horny freak and let him rest. You settle with crawling onto the side of him with your hand coming to rest on the slowing thrum of his chest, and he brings a heavy, comforting arm around you from behind—scooting you closer to him so that you’re snuggling into the crook of his sweaty armpit, your leg tangling over one of his.
Jake’s hand shifts to cup your rear you both lie there—all heavy and satiated—and he gives a quick, cheeky slap right over the skin that’s still sensitive from its earlier beating, making you flinch in a sudden jerk.
“Ow! Skxawng,” you grumble, retaliating by giving him a good flick to the chest.
Jake just chuckles like he finds your revengeful efforts cute, making you oscillate with his bobbing frame beneath you. “Nah, you loved it.”
Your lips pinch together. True.
“Nutcase.”
Your head rolls up to him in a slow, silent wrath, and you glimpse his half smirk in the dark as he lies there with his eyes closed at the ceiling—looking all pleased with himself and deeply satisfied. It makes you want to slap him and kiss him all at once.
You murmur a quiet sound of disapproval as you rest your head back down against his comfy chest, defeated by the heavy, languid sleepiness and the toasty satisfaction that’s now humming in your low gut and keeping the discomfort of your heat at bay. You stretch your legs out long, flexing and wiggling your toes beneath you as your face scrunches up in a big yawn against Jake.
You barely notice the sleep taking over you as you drift off—that warm, hazy blanket slowly shrouding the edges of your thoughts as the steady rhythm of Jake’s breathing under your ear lulls you away. You twitch innocently when his lips ghost over your shoulder and he slowly unpeels himself from your sticky skin, leaving you there—sleeping and satiated on your furs—wearing nothing but his kiss and the dried traces of his fulfilment, as he reluctantly slips away to wash the sweet, floral scent of your heat from his skin.
Jake Sully x Female Metkayina Reader
Word count | 12k
Warnings | explicit smut, 18+, massage, teasing, fingering, p in v, bioluminescent cum, dom Jake, dilf Jake, misbehaving cheating Jake
Read Part I & Part II here
Summary | Your heat is a tricky beast to tame, let alone with Jake coming back to offer you payment for your massage
The Metkayina folk are well adapted to the heat but today is one of those rare scorchers; the sweat clinging to your skin more heavily than usual, the blinding white sand simmering under your toes. It’s a world apart from the cool evening before, when Jake had turned up at your hut, all slick with rain.
You shift in discomfort under the thick of the mid-afternoon, sitting cross-legged on the beach as you and Tsireya weave the fishnet you’ve been working on together. It’s a lengthy project—a fibrous beast designed for heavy hauls of gliderfin that can sustain the village for weeks.
“I know it’s not been that long, but he seems sweet,” she smiles shyly, her four fingers weaving with a patient delicacy. She’s talking about Lo’ak, of course. They’ve been swimming in each other’s wakes ever since the Sullys arrived, and it brings the sappiest, dumb smile to your face to see your young friend this happy. You follow her gaze to where the Sully kids are over by the edge of the crystalline waves, messing around with something they’ve found in the shallows—chortling—Lo’ak shoving Neteyam in the usual playful dynamic that the two brothers have. Lo’ak is cute, and his fumbling yet charming mannerisms remind you so much of Jake.
You turn back to Tsireya, your face shifting into a teasing grin. “You’ll be mated before you know it,” you wink, and she glares up at you—her stripy, teal cheeks flushing maroon as she scoops up a fistful of sand and flings it at you over the net. You gasp with a giggle, your forearm coming up to protect you against the attack of pale dust.
“For your information, I’m not interested in that yet,” she remarks with her brows arched high in dignity. Tsireya’s more than a decade your junior, but her level of maturity often has you forgetting she’s not yet fully come of age. She looks every bit the Olo’eyktan’s daughter in this light, even with the sand clinging to her paddle-like forearms and a girlish blush weighing on her cheeks.
“Oh, you will be. Give it a few years,” you tease.
She scrunches her nose up, her ears pinning back in mock-annoyance as her protruding tongue tells you to behave yourself.
You break from the weaving with a puff as you drop back onto the baking, white sheet of sand, swiping away the small pearls of sweat that have collected in beads over your forehead. “Why is it this hot,” you mutter as you stretch your legs out long, your toes flexing and wiggling. You haven’t stretched at all yet today, and it always makes you feel antsy—like there’s an unfulfilled itch that needs scratching. That’s the problem with having learned to be so in-tune with your body—you’re always so aware of what it needs and when—and if there’s any tension that needs releasing, it’s very difficult to ignore.
You shelter your eyes with your forearms and sigh, circling your hips around on the sand to earn you a satisfying pop of your pelvis. The beaded ropes of your shawl roll over your breasts, and you notice your nipples reacting—stiffening into peaks straight away at the tickle of the strings.
Hmm. Your nipples are usually only this sensitive when…
You check in lower—giving your thighs a light squeeze together—and the warm, wet sensation you receive between your legs immediately confirms your suspicion.
“It’s not that hot,” Tsireya points out with a narrowed glance at your squirming frame on the sand. Her hands pause on the net in her lap as she eyes you, her dainty nostrils flaring. “Are you… in heat?”
Crap. Her words solidify your thoughts as you cup your flushed, clammy cheeks with a groan. “Eurgh, I think you’re right.” The familiar ache settles with a dull throb in your lower belly, as though your body is exhaling in full force at you finally noticing.
“You stink,” Tsireya declares with a hand thrown over her snickering lips.
“Thanks, Tsireya.” You shoot her a flat, unamused look, your eyes narrowing as a single bead of sweat rolls down your temple. “Thanks a lot.”
Female Na’vi heat cycles are as natural a phenomenon as the body craving to be fed when hungry, but it doesn’t take away the baggage of the awkward, social discomfort that comes with it. It means an inconvenient few days of being achingly horny, all the while receiving a lot of male attention—especially if you aren’t already mated. Your usual coping mechanism is to shut yourself in your marui for the duration—feigning sickness while you distract yourself with your crafts, comfort foods, and a whole lot of touching yourself.
You groan again, drawing your knees in a tight ball into your chest as you rock side to side in the sand. “I need to get home…”
“Mr Sully keeps looking at you—maybe he wants something?” Tsireya drops like a casual bombshell and your stomach plummets so hard you have to stop your core from clenching in a weird spasm.
You sit up a little too hastily, trying to keep your scouting gaze as nonchalant as possible. Your eyes eventually find him, standing with Tonowari and a few other men, taking shelter from the beating sun under the giant mangrove roots at the edge of the huts. The group seem to be deep in an important discussion—Tonowari has a hand planted firmly on one hip as he makes florid gestures with the other, his mouth moving quickly while the other men make contemplative nods and replies.
It’s impossible to hold back the small smile that settles on your lips as you notice the way in which Jake is holding himself. You’ve never seen him this relaxed before, standing with his hip jutted out to the side as he leans his weight slightly more over on one leg—his head tilting with lazy ease while he nods in response to Tonowari, one hand perched loosely over his braided leather knife holster that’s strapped across his chest. He looks incredibly alert and rejuvenated, with a certain loose energy rolling off of his beautifully carved shoulders in a posture that screams satisfaction. The dappled light from the gaps in the mangrove roots dances slowly over the lines of his lax frame as he lounges there, highlighting the comfort that your massage has clearly gifted him.
You can tell he’d slept well last night. Your hands had done him good.
Jake’s eyes are narrowed with the discussion at hand, but you can’t miss the gold glint of them in the shade as they shift sideward with a sly ease—slipping onto your gaze as he continues talking, and it immediately sends a kaleidoscope of unexpected butterflies surging through your stomach. Your dumb smile drops as quickly as your gut, and you flick your attention back to the net, where your fingers are already busy fiddling with it—the rough fibres of the weave catching on your skin.
“Strange, not sure what that could be,” you mumble under your breath before sending a sneaky glance up to Tsireya, hoping she’s oblivious to your sudden fluster—your sweaty skin humming with a new heat that has nothing to do with the sun.
If Tsireya is being at all impish, she hides it well, seeming blissfully ignorant as she inspects a small tear that’s appeared on the net. “Urgh. Ruined it,” she huffs.
“No, you haven’t. Here.” You lean forward on your knees, the chafe of your loincloth at your thighs tough to ignore as you reach out to take the section from her. “I always get this—you just need to thread it back through with this part and loop around—“
Your hands and mouth flow mechanically as your eyes creep toward the side, and sure enough—Jake’s gaze is hot on you past Tonowari’s shoulder. You freeze—your big, pale eyes are held briefly captive by his yellow ones, and you swear you catch the ghost of a smirk cross his lips—barely—before he flicks his attention back to Tonowari. Back to his conversation.
Your paddle-like tail twitches hotly on the sand behind you as your eyes drop in fixation to where your fingers are mending the tear by pure muscle memory. The fingers that had Jake’s big, gorgeous body under them just the night before, and that thought alone is enough to have you spiralling further into a heated shambles.
You have to give it to yourself—you’d kept it together well last night, considering you do want that man so badly—only losing your cool towards the end of the evening when he was propped up beneath you and suddenly looking like he very well might take the plunge and close the small space between you both. The strength it took to wrap things up then and there before things went too far is damn admirable.
But imagining that scenario now—in your current, weakened state—is something a little too dangerous that you know you need to keep a distance from.
“You’re good at this,” Tsireya grins, and your eyes snap up to her a little too sharply.
“At what?”
“Um… the net?”
“Oh. Yeah. Lots of practice,” you titter as you swipe back a damp clump of hair that’s sticking to the side of your face. “I’m… need to water. Swim. You’ve got this, right?” you ask, already standing and brushing off the suddenly suffocating coat of sand stuck to your back and thighs.
“Sure! Are you coming bac—”
“Catch up another time! Yeah?” You call over your shoulder as you make your swift escape in the direction of the sea—throwing a casual wave at the stares you receive from Neteyam and Lo’ak as you saunter past, your tail flicking with a mind of its own as the cool, salty veil begins to mingle with the heavy musk of your skin.
The water was a truly heavenly relief, but you feel much better once you’re back at your hut, sprawling out on the comfort of your fur throws and seeking a couple of quick, relieving climaxes.
Ok—a couple is modest—but when the release is this needed, who can blame you? Your body always craves to be filled with something much bigger when in heat, but your fingers do the job well enough, and it helps that it’s always easy as pie to reach orgasm during your cycle.
Your comfort is only aided as the heat of the day has dropped with the retreat of the sun behind Polyphemus, the moisture from high up in the humid air falling to create that delicious, crisp smell of night that you love—ozonic, salty and fresh. It’s a scent that you would store by the bottle if you could.
You sigh, letting your eyelids fall heavy as you sip your sweet yovofruit tea—your heat temporarily staved off as you lean back against the wall with your knees caving in, propping up your jelly-like legs that hum with the soft buzz of your evening antics.
This isn’t so bad. You can stay here, cosy in your hut for the duration of the tricky days with your tea and snacks to hand—nursing yourself back to health from the ‘sickness’ you’ve come down with—the deflection you’ll use against any nosy priers. And then, once it’s all blown over, you can get back to your big bucket of tasks.
Finishing the net with Tsireya is the first and foremost priority, but once that’s finally off of your hands, you can take that trip beyond the reef that you’ve been planning to for a while now to help collect the supply of medicinal seeds that the village is running low on. Plus, while out there, you can scout for that rare species of aquatic lichen you’ve heard mentioned by one of the wind traders in passing—the properties apparently having an incredibly relaxing effect when—
“Please don’t freak out—“
“SHIT!!!”
You jolt like a spooked iluout of water, a glob of tea jumping out from your cup and crashing down onto your evening sarashi that’s hugging your breasts. You frown down at the dark stain that’s bleeding out across your wrap before snapping your gaze up to the deep voiced culprit standing in your doorframe.
He’s standing with one hand holding back the flap of your marui and the other hovering over his mouth, barely covering his low, entertained chortle. “God, m’sorry… could see you were deep in thought and it’s all I could… I’m sorry.”
You simply blink at him for a moment—bewildered—your mouth almost curving up to laugh along with him in shock as the spilt tea starts to trickle down your stomach in little streams, but you stop yourself dead in your tracks.
Jake?!
No. Nope. Nu-uh. You scurry to your feet, sliding your empty cup onto the table as you pad over to him at the door, both of your palms colliding against his chest. “Jake, no. You can’t be here tonight,” you hiss in a strangled whisper as you glance around at the village beyond his shoulder—dark and silent bar the occasional buzzing chirps of reef ticks. Most of the frames of the nearby huts are void of glow—no one should even be up at this hour—but your current situation still has you teetering on some kind of… edge, though you don’t quite know what that edge is.
Jake’s dark eyebrows hood his eyes as he leans in a fraction, responding in an equally hushed and concerned tone. “Everythin’ ok? You hiding from something?” His head turns as he tracks your gaze behind him, taking a quick scout over the seemingly calm surroundings outside.
“No,” you hiss, your cheeks warming as your eyes drop to where your hands are still splayed out across his chest, and you drop them awkwardly.
“Then what?”
“I’m… sick.” It sounds pathetic as you say it, but you bring a balled fist up to your mouth anyway as you attempt the most convincing sounding cough you can muster. “You need to get away,” you rasp, “I don’t want to go spreading it. I’m, going to… sneeze…” you flap your hands as you turn away from him with a bottled-up chest, before exploding into a little, soft ‘htchu!
“Damn, you poor thing,” Jake winces, his face crinkling in concern. “You seemed alright last night…”
“I know. It came on so suddenly,” you murmur gravely, shaking your head in a grimace, your voice growing more husky by the second. “Must’ve been all that damn rain in the air last night…”
He hums. “Explains why you were strugglin’ so much on the beach earlier…”
Your cheeks feel like they resemble the purple yovofruit tea that’s on your chest.
Jake grumbles—sympathetically—bringing the backs of his fingers up to test your forehead temperature, and then your cheeks. “Yeah, you’re burnin’ up, alright.”
You nod with your brows knitted together, playing into the tragedy while you quietly enjoy the feeling of Jake’s heavy fingers on your face.
“Guess I stopped by at just the right time, then.”
You freeze mid-nod. “Err… what?”
“Nothin’ quite like a good massage to ease those symptoms, right?” He says, as though the sickness part doesn’t faze him in the slightest. The smirk that’s suddenly settled on his face is far too knowing for your liking, and you clear your throat, feeling the heat prickle at the back of your neck. Your ears pin back as you try to keep your voice low. “Not right now, Jake. Did you not hear me—“
“But I need to give you your payment, remember?” he interjects, ducking into your hut fully and almost bumping straight into you as he lets the heavy, woven door flap down behind him. “We made a deal, and I ain’t a fan of breakin’ promises.”
You roll your eyes to the side with a huff as you take an awkward step back from him, your hands threading under your armpits as you fold your arms tightly across your chest. Why does he have to be here now, being so insistent, when you’re desperately trying to keep yourself from devolving into a hot catastrophe? This is the exact situation you don’t need, and it seems like he isn’t making it an easy one to wiggle out of.
You drum your fingers beneath your armpits as you give Jake an uncertain glance. The level of relaxed, confident energy that’s radiating from him tonight is offensive, and you’re starting to realise—with a punch to the gut—that this is your fault. Perhaps giving him such an excellent massage was not your finest idea, and now you’re having to pay the price in the form of Jake looking and acting very sexy while practically begging to give you a damn massage.
It’s extremely difficult to stop your disobedient eyes from roaming over the features of Jake’s body that your hands have already memorized. It’s irritating how attractive he looks, dressed in little other than his most casual attire; his smoky blue loincloth draping the insides of his striped thighs, while the fibrous weave of the bands around his upper arms grip his biceps. The green and amber plaited beads of his ceremonial necklace—a symbol of his Olo’eyktan status—hug his throat in a tight embrace, and you watch as his tanhi glows and pulses in little streams down the veins of his neck and arms, branching out into a beautiful river of patterns across his chest and stomach—outlining his robust frame against the dark of your dimly lit room.
There’s something about the bulky presence of him in your hut now that the door is fully flapped shut that’s getting you more tightly wrung by the second. Your nostrils flare on their own accord at the suddenly overbearing scent of him—metal and woodsmoke—that grounding, unique Omatikaya musk that you’ve come to associate as his own, and something else… more subtle, yet pungent lingering underneath. You inhale deeper, trying to grapple at this mystery component, the scent of it almost on the tip of your tongue—
“You’re all uptight,” Jake grins, stepping in closer until he’s hovering over you, a couple of his front dreads falling forward to frame his face as he rests a large, gentle hand on your shoulder. “A lot of tension on these shoulders, huh?”
The sneaky bastard is mirroring your words from last night, but it’s hard to even register that under the searing touch of his big, rough hand on you. You jolt at the contact, as though he’s just zapped you with a static shock, and that gives him a good chuckle. “You really are on edge, aren’tcha. Must be all of that nasty sickness.”
“Jake…” you shoot him a pale, warning glare.
“What?” He’s not exactly heeding the warning in your eyes as his golden ones are already elsewhere, trailing down to where your hands are tucked tightly beneath your crossed arms. He moves his hand down to your wrist, giving it a small, playful tug. “We can start by relaxing here, hm? No good being all closed off like that.”
Fuck, he knows. He has to know. And he’s playing along—hard—and with a damn smirk on his face.
You release the breath you realise you were holding as you allow him to free your hands—letting your arms fall down to your sides—and Jake looks pleased, his grin growing across his stupid, handsome face. “There you go. See? Bet you’re feelin’
better already.”
You watch him with laser eyes as he steps past you and starts snooping around your hut with his tail swooshing behind him, the tip flicking at the end of each lazy arc. The hearth in the centre of your hut isn’t lit tonight—the day having been far too hot to warrant such flames—so you only have a couple of small lanterns lit on the table to give off the cosy light you desire. But other than that… everything in your room is in the exact same place as last night, so it makes you uneasy that Jake is glancing around with a strange, narrow-eyed expression, as if something is different and he’s trying to work out what.
He saunters over to your table, dragging two fingers across the surface before reaching for the small bowl that’s filled with oil—the oil that you used to massage him last night.
“Hm. Thought I could smell something,” Jake murmurs, bringing it up to his flaring nostrils.
“Careful with that,” you blurt, springing to his side quicker than an arrow from a bowstring as you bring your hand up over his to support the bowl. You’re not sure why, but it feels strangely… dangerous, like he’s nosing into something a bit too personal, even though it’s just your damn massage oil.
Jake’s ears twitch towards you in amusement. “What? Afraid I’ll spill it on those pretty furs of yours?” He nods to the pile of pale, fluffy rugs resting on the woven floor beside the unlit hearth. The rugs that, just hours earlier, you’d been writhing on with your pussy stuffed full of your fingers.
“No, it’s just…” you falter with flat ears as you look up and meet his amused gaze. He’s watching you far too closely for comfort with his big, honey-like eyes, and your weak knees threaten to give out as you realise it’s not the oil that’s dilating his pupils like that.
Distraction. Distraction could be your saviour.
You sink your fingertips beneath the layer of thick oil in the bowl before pulling them back out, rubbing the viscous fluid between them with your thumb and presenting it under Jake’s nose. “I’ll bet you can’t guess what it is?”
His brow quirks, accepting the challenge gladly as he shuts his eyes and inhales your fingers a lot deeper than he had the bowl, his chest expanding to make room for
his puffed-up lungs. His exhale is a ticklish plume of hot air against your oil-covered fingers as he sighs out with the word “sweet” between his lips before taking another hit—grabbing your fingers in his free hand and holding them still while he completes his olfactory study. “Milk…” he sighs again, his eyes flicking open on you to reveal golden irises almost swallowed whole. “Mmm, I know. It’s coconut, right?”
“Wow… bingo,” a sharp laugh escapes you—genuinely surprised that he’s been able to pin that so fast and accurately. You lean up on unsteady tiptoes towards the bowl in his hand, taking a sniff yourself—the swirl of overwhelming tropical sweetness almost dizzying under your sensitive Na’vi nose. “Mm.” You let out a little sigh. “I could eat this stuff.”
You regret opening your silly mouth immediately as the words hang in the air like smoke in a cramped hut, and you tense—your eyes flicking open as you feel Jake’s entertained gaze sliding down your exposed neck. His hand is big enough to swallow yours entirely as he holds your oily fingers, and you can feel the slight, rhythmic pulse in his thumb. It’s a much faster and heavier thrum than you expect, and it takes you by a surprise that makes you wobble on your toes.
Jake’s chuckle escapes him in a quiet hiss as he gives you a once-over. “Steady there. How ‘bout we sit down, hm? Don’t want you passin’ out on me from this fever.”
Your mouth twitches wordlessly as he guides you by the hand like a sick patient to your place of rest—the place that’s still humming with the trace of your earlier release. You can’t fool yourself—your hut reeks of your sexual heat, and a blotchy flush starts creeping across your chest and shoulders at the thought that if you can smell it, Eywa only knows what a susceptible Na’vi male like Jake must be thinking.
He’s still holding the bowl in one hand as he gestures for you to sit, and despite your shaky knees, you manage to bend down more or less gently into a stiff, cross-legged position—drawing your dark waves over one shoulder as your tail curls neatly beside you. Your ears follow him like satellites as he moves behind you and clambers to his own seat with a soft pop of his knees, the tuft of his tail brushing past you on the way down.
“Agh, gettin’ old,” Jake chuckles, placing the bowl beside him with heightened care as to not spill any oil on your rugs. “Not as virile as I used to be.”
You can’t help but huff a small laugh at that, and it releases a little of the tension that’s clamming up your shoulder blades. “You’re not old.”
“Old enough,” he counters with a grin, shuffling up closer so his hitched legs are flanking you on either side like two safety barriers, and you feel the immense heat from his thighs radiating into your skin like an open flame. As much as you’re glad the fire isn’t lit—because by Eywa you would probably combust—you wish the crackle of flames could at least cover the acute sound of your heart hammering against your ribs and the soft, slow squelch of Jake starting to spread the coconut oil between his palms.
Wait… old enough for what?
“Now, don’t laugh,” he continues frankly. “Ain’t no expert like you are.”
“Ah, I’m not sure I am,” you titter back with airplane ears, drumming your fingers against your shins in your lap—your mind starting to whirl as your heart skips with rapid, spiralling anticipation for those very slick sounding hands to land on your back.
“Damn, this stuff is thick,” Jake murmurs as his hands glide over one another with a squish, in no apparent hurry at all as he plays with the texture of the syrupy, aromatic substance. “Feels like butter—“
“Jake. I need your hands on me, please,” you blurt quietly, your ears sinking further to your skull. It’s a meagre whine that comes out of nowhere, and the despair in your tone fills you with utter horror. You wish you didn’t have to be this pathetic, but with your chest heaving suddenly with the need to be touched, you’re left with little other choice. Your stupid heat pulses through you with a damn vengeance—the blotchy flush sitting on your skin burning you like a kiln, and you clamp your arms across your stomach, trying to hold it all in.
Your breath catches in your chest as a sudden blanket of treacly, delicious warmth shrouds your shoulder blades, cloaking you in pure heaven as Jakeplaces his hands on you at your request—splaying out all five digits before pressing them into your skin with the exact, devastating pressure your body is aching for.
“Fuck,” you whisper with your arms falling down loosely in your lap, your head lolling forward on its limp support as though he’s just drugged you.
“Jesus, sweetheart… should’ve said something sooner. Could’ve been helpin’ you out,” Jake murmurs—gliding long, blissful sweeps across the expanse of your back, his hands slipping over your curves like liquid silk with the slick of the coconut oil.
His fingers are already exploring around the sides of your mid-waist—encompassing the dips of the hourglass—his thumbs pushing deep yet tender digs into the soft flesh on either side of your spine. He rolls them all the way up, to the tips of your shoulders, before giving a good squeeze, and dragging them back down.
Fuck, it feels electric and comforting all at once. For a man claiming to be no expert in the field of massage, you immediately realise that Jake is extremely talented, and very modest. It makes you wonder what other talents he might have hidden up his sleeve, especially with all five of those fingers. The hot friction of his oil-coated pads are quickly sending long, warm ropes snaking into your stomach, ropes that are settling comfortably into an arousing coil deep in the pit of your groin.
Your little breathy moans are becoming harder to control and more pitiful sounding with each pass of Jake’s hands—your body reacting with a delicious shudder every time he reaches the back of your neck. He draws his fingers and thumb into a pinch as he rubs down the column of your neck—digging in a little more beneath your scalp—and you start seeing stars behind your eyelids.
“Is the pressure ok?” he mumbles, his voice a pleasant rasp behind your ear as his hands come to hover on your lower back, and he spreads his fingers out over your hips—his thumbs deliberately pushing into the two little dimples just above your glutes. That earns him a gorgeous little noise, and he takes it as an opportunity to pull you back closer to him—deeper into the hollow of his massive frame behind you, and your breath catches in your chest again without warning at the warm, half-hard bulge you can feel in his loincloth.
Your brain—or what’s left of it—tries to grapple for a last thread of dignity; some decency, perhaps—but as it’s sliding down your spinal cord quicker than molten
wax and your ovaries are screaming Jake’s name at the top of their lungs, you realise that you might just have to accept that you’re playing a losing game.
Jake’s fucking you tonight, and there’s not a single damn thing on Pandora that can help it.
“Can I take this off, baby?” He whispers beside your ear, leaning over your shoulder to take a look at you as his hands hover over the back of the sarashithat he soaked with tea when he spooked you earlier.
Baby. Oh Eywa. Your head flutters with something that resembles a nod as his fingers slide like anchors into the lip of your cloth wrap. He undresses you with watchful eyes over your shoulder, shimmying the tea-stained band down with slow patience until it drops to your hips—releasing your big, heat-swollen breasts.
You lean back into the crook of his neck as your eyes flutter closed, a quiet groan escaping you at the cool sensation of the air against your hardening nipples. Freeing them feels like a mercy and a provocation all at once—as though the air itself is caressing them—and you arch the small of your back against Jake in pleasure, your hands landing on his propped-up knees like an armrest.
“Need me to be gentle?” He asks, leaning down to ghost his lips over your temple as his eyes remain transfixed on your breasts. The intimate act feels oddly natural, considering Jake has never kissed or even touched you in this way before, and it takes you by surprise. It feels so normal, and right.
“Yes, please,” you breathe, looking up at him—and it’s only now that his gaze breaks from your chest, landing on your hazy green, pleading eyes. Jake’s own eyes are swimming with a muted fire that sends a fresh lick of flame straight to your core.
“So polite despite yourself,” he smirks wryly. “I admire that.” His ears twitch forward as his face swivels back to your breasts for a beat, before returning to hold your big-eyed stare with his hands snaking around the sides of your breasts from under your armpits. “Been admiring a lot about you.”
You gasp at the feel of Jake’s oily, warm hands slipping slowly over your skin—your little lips forming an ‘o’ at him—and he mimics you, his mouth dropping open before crawling into a savagely dirty grin. His dilated pupils balloon an impossible fraction more as he starts to knead at your weighty breasts with a soft gentleness you wouldn’t expect from hands that large and calloused. Capable hands—conditioned from years of holding up heavy metal yet softened by countless nights of carrying his sleepy young to bed over his shoulder. You can only imaginewhat else he can do with them—but right now—with the way your mind is spinning out of control from his touch, you can’t focus on anything other than what he’s doing to you.
You moan feebly, your brow pinching as you glance down in front of you to the cause of your insanity. Your legs have bowed together—your knees collapsed in with your loincloth lost in the tight space between your thighs—the thighs that are clenching automatically with every manipulation of Jake’s searing hands on your breasts. The warm lubricant of the coconut oil is the perfect aid for his heavy thumbs as they circle over the tender, aching plush, and the slick, wet sound of it vibrates all the way down to your toes.
You wince sharply between your teeth, your hands tightening on his knees as his fingers pinch the stiff peaks of your nipples—picking on the painfully sensitive buds.
“These sore?” Jake rumbles sympathetically, his flat nose pressing to your temple to graze another kiss over the clammy hair that’s stuck to it—pecking you better—and the warm plume of his breath under his nostrils makes you shiver.
“Y-yes,” you sigh. “But it feels good, too…”
“Yeah?” he mumbles, watching what he’s doing to you out the corner of his eyes as he pinches your nipples a fraction harder between his thumbs and forefingers before giving a small, delicious twist—making you gasp noiselessly—and you feel his breath growing heavier at the side of your face, his bulge now fully solid against your low back. “That feel good, baby?”
“Mmh,” you whimper, your head slumping further back against his collarbone, and this time, he leans down to find your face—a single dread toppling forward as he catches your swollen bottom lip between both of his in an agonisingly slow tease. He pulls back again, just enough to enjoy your green, glazed over eyes, before claiming your parted mouth as his entirely.
Your eyes roll somewhere far back in your head at the sensation of Jake’s lips. At his warm, demanding tongue that pushes its way in—sweeping over yours with a slick, wet sound that sends sharp sparks shooting through your core. At the taste of him—slightly bitter—filling your mouth with the heady, masculine pheromones that you’ve been desperately trying to coat your palate with since he arrived. His chin and jaw is rough with his unique, short stubble of hair—something so interesting that you’ve never experienced before during kissing—and the sensation sits between a tickle and a burn as he moves against your soft face. You can feel the vibration of his heart against his chest—a heavy, quick thud that matches your own, and you notice how his thighs tense under your hands, how his cock pushes tighter against you every time he drinks in your little moans.
As you drown in in the essence of Jake, you’re suddenly struck with a wave of panic at how your twitching body—a ticking bomb on the very short fuse of your heat—is reacting far too well to his incessant nipple teasing, his kissing, and the feel of his big dick behind you. The nipple stimulation is releasing all kinds of weird and pleasantly fuzzy hormones surging into your bloodstream, ones that have the power to make your hips stutter and your stomach heave. It’s a lot—too much and too soon, and with the way your thighs are clenching together, your hips jolting up in little, random spasms, you realise—with paling horror—that this is going to make you come.
The realisation settles like a stone in the pit of your stomach as Jake breaks from the kiss—his smug lips crudely wet and glistening—only to hunch forward over you—trailing his hot, rough mouth down to the throbbing peaks of your tits, replacing the friction of his thumbs on your nipples with the overwhelming feel of his savvy tongue. He sucks on the stiff, sensitive buds with a desperate hunger while his broad hands coast down either side of your waist—halting over the wide of your trembling hips to ground you with a gentle sweep of his thumbs back and forth, over the straps of your loincloth.
“Jake!” You whimper, digging your nails into his knees as he starts to get a little too excited with those sharp teeth of his, nipping with his fangs at your hard, tender areolas. The sharp sting very quickly settles into a warm flood of pleasure under the forgiving swirl of his soft wet tongue, and you’re right back to square one—the pressure between your legs swelling up double time after the pinch of pain.
You fidget under his relentless suckling, your embarrassment growing as quickly as the throbbing thrum of the building climax between your thighs. Jake can’t know that what he’s merely doing now is enough to have you completely undone. He cannot find out you’re this weak. There’s still the chance that he could be unaware of this whole situation, and you can walk away from this little escapade without the humiliation—come back to it all another day when you’re less likely to explode into smithereens under Jake’s heavenly mouth and hands…
The thoughts are a pitiful attempt at distraction, lost under the humming buzz of white noise as your warm, foggy climax rushes through you with a torment under Jake’s low, vibrational groan. The quick yet intense pleasure beats at your swollen folds as you hold your thighs clamped together very still—your body turning rigid—your stare fixed up at the ceiling beside Jake’s nuzzling head as you attempt to ride the orgasm out as coolly as you can muster.
Crap, fuck, mmmughh—
“Mmm,” Jake hums idly as your nipple releases from his mouth with a little pop. His eyelids flutter open as he brings his head back up to you with a shit-eating grin, and you try to shrink further back under the shelf of his jaw to hide your burning face.
“Hey, woah,” he coos, his voice wrapped up in a smirk as he brushes your cheek with his big knuckles, leaning out to the side to get a good look at you. “No need to be embarrassed, sweetheart. You’re allowed to feel good. Only fair after what you did for me last night.”
“Jake, this is a little… different,” you huff, hot and a little desperately as he’s now forcing your head to tilt to the side as his flat, feline nose nuzzles against you, planting strings of wet-lipped kisses along your jaw, his hand roaming its way to the centre of your loincloth. You feel his hard cock give a little nudge against your back through the barrier of its restraint, and you swallow at how incredible and hot it feels pressed up against you.
“Pssh, what difference does it make,” Jake winks, as though—in fact—making you come from his mouth over your breasts is actually how the massage comes as standard. “Still getting the tension outta ya one way or another,” he jokes lewdly as he slides his cupped hand over the throbbing mound beneath your tweng. “Christ, sweetheart. Think I’ve found the source of that fever of yours.”
Your ears go droopy as you lean into him, pushing your weight into his touch. “So much for ‘I’m no expert’,” you jest with a sigh.
A smooth chuckle reverberates from his chest at that, and you quiver while watching his fingers disappear underneath the top flap of your loincloth, over the soaked material underneath that’s clinging to the outline of your pussy. His fingers squelch the cloth against your swollen heat as he feels around—figuring out what he’s working with—and your willing thighs fall open to make room for him. Your head falls back against him as you release a moan—a sound that’s fast becoming a repetitive melody against the hushed quiet of your hut this evening.
Jake’s smile pinches to the side in a pout of contemplation. “Hm. I think we can do better than this,” he mutters, pulling away—leaving you aching from the loss of his touch and body heat as his knees slide back from your sides, and you struggle to stop yourself from whining and reaching for him like a needy child. He shuffles to a crouch, resting his elbows on his knees as he looks at you with an expectant grin. “Wanna lie down on your front for me, sweetheart?”
You don’t need to be asked that twice, keenly getting yourself to all fours and sliding to your stomach at his feet, your tail scooting over to one side as an invitation you don’t even realise you’re sending him.
“Thassit,” Jake murmurs, and he doesn’t hesitate to climb over—mounting you with a flick of his tail—shrouding you in his shadow against the lantern light as he traps you between the thick pillars of his arms and thighs. He hovers there a beat longer than necessary, before falling back to his haunches at your feet.
“Comfy?” He asks, giving your calves a slow, pleasant rub.
You hum, slipping your forearms under your cheek as a pillow to rest on. The soft tufts of the fur beneath you caress your oiled up breasts and stomach like a warm, ticklish hug, and without thinking, you circle your hips—chasing a delicious, relieving crack of your spine.
“Slinky little thing aren’tcha,” Jake laughs quietly as he leans over to the bowl, collecting a fresh slick of oil for his palms. “Really know your way round yourself.”
You titter as your ears flick back at that sound again—so squelchy and vulgar—and it tightens the hot coil that’s still lingering in your groin. It doesn’t help that Jake keeps talking like that, his voice all deep and gravelly and sending shivers through you. The rough strings hanging from his loincloth tickle your feet as he wraps his hands around your ankles, his thumbs brushing slow sweeps over the bones—until he runs them further down, to the bottoms of your sensitive soles. He gives them a good squeeze, and it makes you jolt with an involuntary giggle. Jake’s face darts up to you at the sound, his expression contorting into a wicked grin. “Ticklish?”
“Right there,” you laugh, and he shows no mercy at this discovery—his thumbs probing into the spongey pads beneath your heels before he wiggles his fingertips down to your flaring toes, and that makes you squeal uncontrollably.
“Shh,” Jake hisses in a hushed chuckle, moving away from your feet and shuffling forward on his knees so his weight is straddling your calves. “Keep it down, Jeez.”
“You’re making it very hard,” you hiss back, your ribs vibrating into the furs with your muffled giggling as he continues the ticklish assaults.
“You ticklish here?” He teases as he traces those loose, wiggling fingers over the soft backs of your jelly-like knees, up the lines of the tanhi on your thighs with a touch deliberately light enough to make your legs shake and your core squirm in peril.
“Shit, stop it!” you moan through a fresh fit of giggles—now gasping for air as he’s leaning over you, trailing the tickles up to the sides of your hips with his teeth bared in a silent, wolfish grin. He moves to the dips of your waist—your most sensitive spot—clawing with all those tremblingly light finger pads and thumbs and you just can’t take it anymore, your arms rushing back to bat him away as you twist on the teetering edge of hysteria. “Please, Jake, stop!!”
He tickles your sides again like a vice, tucking back in with another relentless wave until your hips are bucking up at him frantically and you feel like you might wet yourself. “You beggin’ me?” he taunts, his voice full of relish at the fits of silent, breathless laughter coming from you as your hands swat blindly behind you, slapping at his forearms.
Your flapping hands are caught in an abrupt, firm clutch, and your breath catches—the laughter falling flat in your lungs. Your tail whips his thigh in an automatic retort, and he transfers both of your wrists to one hand, freeing up his other so he can hold the base of your swishing tail still. “Calm down, sweetheart,” he chuckles. “Can’t relax you when you’re all flailin’ around like a nutcase.”
Your squirming stops momentarily. You fucking what? How dare he call you a nutcase when he’s the one tickling you like some sort of savage? You fumble as you try to conjure a remark to that—your irritation at Jake being a cheeky prick bleeding across your skin in a prickly, hot flush and you writhe again—purposefully—moaning your frustration while under his hold. Your sulk ends abruptly as the hand that was holding your tail claps down against your backside in a blunt slap, and you jolt from the sudden impact—going rigid and wide-eyed as a sizzling, hot sting starts to rush to the surface of the skin where Jake’s hand just struck you.
His splayed hand comes back down to rest upon it, rubbing a slow, sympathetic caress over your throbbing skin. “Did that hurt a bit, doll?” he rumbles, his voice a low coo laced with a taunt. “M’sorry.”
Your jaw hits the ground.
“You’re fucking not—“
A sharp, wet THWACK reverberates around the silent room—a harder spank that hits you with a force that tells you to watch your damn mouth—and Jake lunges forward on his knees to quickly muzzle your loud cry with the palm that just inflicted the very damage. You feel every nerve in your struck backside catching fire with a heat that rivals the blossoming fever deep in your groin, already knowing the blood is rushing to the surface of your skin in the shape of his handprint without needing to see it.
“Shh,” Jake hisses again, his breath tickling the shell of your ear. “Don’t go wakin’ up the whole damn village, sweetheart.”
Your eyes are big and glassy as you roll them up to meet his heavily half-lidded ones. He holds your defenseless gaze with his hand still covering your mouth as his other finally releases its shackle around your wrists, and your hands fall to the floor—your fingers clawing into the plush of the furs. You hold your breath beneath his palm as his warm, oily thumb contacts a sensitive pussy fold that’s peeking out at the side of your loincloth—brushing past it—before his hand loops around in a stroke over your rear, then back to the same spot with a more deliberate stroke.
You lose focus on his stare as the shivery heat takes over you, your body throbbing with a rage for that thumb to be buried inside of you—his fingers, his cock. You wish his hand wasn’t blocking your mouth as you have the sudden desperate urge to beg Jake for all of it—shamelessly—but as you’re thoroughly muzzled, you settle with rolling your hips up to meet his brushing thumb with little, stifled moans into his palm—grinding against it every time it rubs past your pussy. It’s a tease that has you coiling up inside, your muscles clenching against the sopping material of your tweng.
You can hear Jake’s chest growing heavier as he sneaks his thumb under the wet material to push it to the side, spurred on by your whimpering noises. Your thighs quiver and tense up as he plays with your slick lips before sinking the weight of his thumb fully into your cunt—the thick, warm digit immediately getting absorbed by the hungry suction of you.
“Fuck,” Jake breathes, captivated at the way his thumb disappears into your slit to the hilt, and you feel the curse through the vibration of his hand over your mouth. He shuffles on his heels, his fingers twitching against your mouth as he draws his thumb all the way back out—circling it around your open entrance with a wet squelch—before slipping it back in deeper, bending at the knuckle and pushing it down into the soft, spongey spot inside you.
Your pussy starts pulsing around his thumb within seconds—the stretch a relieving pressure that matches the intensity of your heat, and your hips buck up frantically to get more of that friction you need. His thumb slips out only to be instantly replaced with two big fingers—his pinky slipping underneath to give your swollen clit some attention—and with this position—he picks up to a rhythmic pace, fingering you with an intention no longer to tease, but to get you off.
Jake’s aroused eyes flick up to where you’re muffling against his hand like a drowning otterfin, your knuckles paling where you’re gripping onto the fur in little rhythmic clenches. Your breath suddenly hisses out in a sharp, desperate rush as he releases his grip on your mouth just enough for you to move your lips, and you immediately push your tongue against his palm with a loud whimper, lapping at his palm with a desperate, unadulterated thirst. His skin tastes of the sea breeze that’s still clinging to him from the day as he curls his fingers into your mouth, and you take them—sucking on them as hard as you wish it was the thick length hidden under his loincloth instead, your cheeks hollowing out around them as you bob back and forth.
“Mm, shit baby, you like that?” Jake’s gravelly groan vibrates through his trembling fingers in your mouth, and he slips another finger into your slit to join his other two, stretching you deliciously wide as he starts to pump them in and out faster and with more pressure, hitting the spot that has your walls clenching onto him in a vice grip. He muffles your wails with his salty fingers stuffed deep into your mouth as you writhe until your climax finally breaks over you onto his sodden, squelching hand, sending violent, delicious tremors shaking through your entire frame.
Your trembling hands come up to pull his fingers from your mouth, and you gasp for breath, holding onto Jake’s wrist as you start to lick wide strokes over every inch of his hand in a frantic, orgasm-drunk daze. He pulls back, leaving you chasing him as he straightens back up onto his heels—giving you the space to roll around and face him.
You’re met with the sight of Jake with a flushed, arrogant grin sat on his face—his teeth bared and glinting with pure smug, masculine pride at what he’s just done to you—and it’s enough to have you jolting upright, possessed by a fierce, burning heat flaming through your veins.
The air is punched from Jake's lungs as you lunge for him, pinning him onto his back against the hard coolness of the woven floor. His forearm slams against the ground whilst his other lands on the small of your waist as he’s swallowed up in your frenzied, open-mouthed kissing.
The restraint you held in your hands just the night prior is a distant fog of a memory as they run tremulously over every inch of his soft, warm skin now—feeling him up without shame or a second thought—filling your palms with the contours of his shoulders, the strong plush of his chest, the small peaks of his nipples. You break from his lips to trail your open mouth down the length of his neck, and Jake rolls his head back with a low rumble in his throat to let you. You drape your teeth and tongue over his strings of tanhi, over the fibres and beads of his necklace—enjoying every inch of the intoxicating, salty taste of him. You get lower—finding his collar bones, his chest, his stomach—dragging possessive licks over the two moles next to his navel, your dark coils of hair falling in a curtain around your face.
“Good God, baby… think I’m forgiven for spankin’ you, huh?” Jake mutters under his breath as he enjoys the view of you worshipping his body, his hooded eyes following your descending head lazily.
“I haven’t decided yet,” you breathe as you find your fingers fumbling in the ties of his loincloth. His abs clench as he flexes his core upward to reach down and help you out—finishing off what you can’t manage—before untying yours too as you tug the band of your sarashiup over your head and toss it to the side.
Your loincloth drops down between Jake’s thighs, and a low, hungry sounding growl escapes him as he peers down at your fully exposed cunt hovering over him. “Oh fuck, that’s nice,” he sighs, his bottom lip getting pinched under his teeth as he glides his fingers down the glint of your smooth, wide centre under the dim light. He pushes his thumb into the little erect button that is your clit, and it makes you gasp.
“ Jake,” you wince, your brows pinching together as your thighs clench into his at the overwhelming touch.
“Sensitive?” he asks, although his thumb doesn’t budge.
“Very,” you sigh out, your eyes fluttering shut at the small, circular massage he’s starting to tease your clit with.
“Need somethin’ bigger to help you out?”
Your dazed eyes fling back open, and you glance down to see that he’s shifted his loosened loincloth out of the way and is caressing his thick length in his other hand with a feral grin on his face, his ears flared low and heavy next to his head. A hot pulse shoots like a spark through your clit at the sight, bumping against Jake’s thumb with a strength you’re certain he can feel.
Well, fuck. The heavy, upward curve of the beast is more stunning than you wish it was for your own heated sanity’s sake, and your dilated eyes roam helplessly over it—over the little, pretty glowing freckles of tanhi that throb up the veins of his glorious, soft blue shaft. Your dumbed mouth parts to make way for the thick, potent smell that hits you in full force now that his manhood is fully exposed—that heady aroma that you were catching whiffs of earlier now swirling around your head and making you dizzy. You want to reach for it immediately, desperate to feel the thick weight burying deep inside of your aching heat.
Jake chuckles deeply, his teeth glinting in the lantern light as he clearly sees you looking like you’re just about ready to pounce on him again. “You like it?” He teases, his breath coming out ragged as he strokes himself, and you watch him with your mouth falling further agape—hypnotised by the languid movement of it in his hand. The thin veil of his foreskin rolls up to conceal the swollen purple tip—and back down the thick centre again—revealing the exposed head glossy with a sleek layer of faintly bioluminescent pre-cum that glows softly in the dark of the room. The size of the beast in his cupped grip looks like it could satiate you for the entirety of your heat cycle, and as you stare at it—wide-eyed and practically drooling—your brain has a small battle over the conflict of whether you want to bury it ten inches down your throat within the next 5 seconds or cram it straight into your fluttering heat.
Your heat quickly decides for you as you whine with an orgasmic contraction from Jake’s quickening thumb circles—a hint for you to hurry the fuck up as he also groans, his head falling back against the floor with his quickening tugs. His hips make little rolls up, and you take a swift plunge—shuffling forward on your shaky knees to line your entrance up with the tip of his erection. You can feel the heat radiating off of the head like a physical weight against your wet centre, and Jake is quick to move his hands to clutch your hips, guiding you down the length of him. The air hangs thick as you both hold your breath and watch as your slick folds swallow him up whole.
You barely hear Jake choke on his growl over your own brutal whine as he penetrates you—stretching you wide to fill that empty space that’s been bubbling like a furnace with your heat—and your vision blurs at the immense relief of it, as though two starving elements of nature have finally converged. You feel his bulbous cock-head bump against something deep inside of you, and your pussy clenches around him with a fierce, unyielding grip that refuses to let him go.
“Oh fuck, Jake,” you whine as your body hastily gears into action to take what it needs—grinding down into him while your hands come to fall behind you on his thick, tensing thighs. Jake anchors you by your hips with a strong grasp, and you can feel the strength of his arms working in tandem with your grinding rhythm—helping you move back and forth to achieve the satisfying vigour he knows you need.
“God, you’re tight,” he rasps, his voice vibrating through your body as his legs twitch against the floor between your straddled thighs. His brows furrow over his dark, blown out eyes as he watches your bouncing chest as you ride him—fast—using him to fulfil nature’s need as you fuck yourself to the brink. His hips roll up in short but powerful thrusts to meet yours—your mingling sweat and bodily fluids creating an obscene, slick slapping sound around the hushed hut.
“Mm, your cock is so good,” you whimper with your spine in a deep arch, your face tossed to the heavens as you become a breathless, unravelled mess of pleasure upon the man you were thinking of when you fingered yourself earlier. “Right there… oh fuck, oh Jake—”
Your clit is already stimulated to the throbbing edge, aided by the friction of his rough groin rubbing against you as you move back and forth. Your chest heaves in short, shallow breaths as you come apart—quick and hard—releasing a hot gush of your slick arousal over his stomach as you silently scream, your knees burning from the graze of friction against the floor.
“Ugh, fuck, good girl,” Jake growls proudly with his ears pinned back, grabbing a hold of both of your jiggling breasts in a tight squeeze as he watches the mess you’ve made on him trickling down his sides. “Takin’ all that heat out on me so well, angel.”
You falter with a shaky, cracked whine as you fail forwards onto him, your sweaty chest collapsing flush against Jake’s rapid heart. He lets you regain your composure, kissing the top of your head as he sweeps slow strokes over your damp hair while you lie on him in a fucked-out daze. He’s still buried deep inside of you, and you feel his throbbing length give the occasional, impatient twitch in reaction to the teasing of your walls’ sporadic, post-orgasm clenching.
It’s only now that you’re satiated in a melted shambles upon the bed of his chest that Jake takes the reins from you, driven by biological instinct to finish what needs to be finished—to take you the way he needs—and empty the load that’s been building up all day at the call of your heat. He kisses your forehead one more time as he sits up with your limp body in his lap, his arms tightening in a loop around the small of your waist as he gets to his knees and shuffles you back onto your furs.
The fluffy material feels stifling as it sticks to your sweaty back, but you’re on such an ethereal high from coming so much that you barely care to notice it. You only notice the gorgeous man that’s currently pinning you from above, his dreads almost tickling your flushed cheeks as he looks down at you with an unrestrained pride that makes you feel like you’re all his, even if it is just for the night.
“You’re so fuckin’ pretty,” Jake slurs in a deep rumble, his golden eyes big and glazed as he looks down into yours like he means it. As if, for a moment, you’re the only girl on Pandora he has eyes for.
He starts moving inside of you again, pushing his weight down to make your thighs straddle open wider for his thrusting hips. You stare back up at him as you watch him take you with little, shallow breaths escaping your parted lips, the plush of your breasts rolling back and forth every time he bottoms out against the limit of what he can, hitting that deliciously fulfilling spot that makes your toes curl against him.
Jake lifts himself just enough to lower his gaze between your thighs—getting a good view of the action down there—watching how his lubed-up shaft slips in and out, until that show proves to be a bit too good to watch, and he moans, his face rolling to the ceiling in a slack-jawed expression of pure bliss. It leaves his throat exposed to you, and you enjoy this new view of his muscular neck being squeezed tightly by his Olo’eyktan necklace. It’s a stomach dropping reminder that you’re currently being fucked by a very misbehaving man who isn’t yours—and you reach up to feel it, running your fingers past the beaded band over his slick skin. You can see his pulse jumping beneath his jaw rapidly as he pants with the effort of burying his weight inside of you, his face twitching slightly with each wave of pleasure.
You reach for his shoulders—your fingers knitting the muscles that are tensed up in an entirely different way than last night—offering him a massage while he works hard to fuck himself into you. It’s all you want—to please him, to make him feel good, and it’s the least you can do for how good he’s made you feel tonight.
Jake looks back down at you, his parted lips shifting into a strained smile. “Treatin’ me well even while I’m drivin’ you into the mat, huh?” he chuckles jaggedly. “God, what’d I do to deserve an angel like you?”
He leans down to capture your lips in a kiss—one that’s messy and urgent—his teeth catching on your bottom lip, and he releases a deep groan into your mouth as he falters under a strong orgasmic contraction, one that you can feel as his thick wet base twitches rhythmically at your entrance. “Oh fuck, baby, this cunt’s gonna make me cum,” he rasps, his hips hitching in a sudden, heavy stutter.
He adjusts himself so he can clutch onto the plush flesh of your thigh, pushing you further into the floor with his weight to work at an angle slightly to the side that has you gripping onto his dreads with a moan. He picks up to a much faster and rougher pace than you could ever ride him with, and his grip on your thigh becomes bruising as he gets close. You can feel how his scrotum is wrinkled tightly with pent up pressure—a coiled spring ready to snap—and it has you stifling a wail that you really wish you could cry out with if it wasn’t for the fact it’s the dead of night, and there could be susceptible Na’vi ears in the huts nearby. You’re unsure if you can physically handle another orgasm, but—despite yourself—you decide to help Jake out by using what little strength you have left in your legs to snake around his waist and latch yourself to him like an ikran to a cliffside.
Jake mouths quiet, garbled cusses next to your ear as his back arches up with a rigid tension, his tail a mad snake as it undulates behind him in spastic thrashes through the air. His legs shuffle against the floor like he’s trying to crawl impossibly further up inside you. You bury your face into his warm sweaty neck, biting down on him to cover up your weary cry as he has your tight walls clenching up with one last climax—a final surge of exhausted, spent heat releasing from you, and it’s enough to have Jake tumbling over his well-earned edge.
His breath hisses out next to your ear in a ragged, desperate rush, and for a dazed moment—you think he might not have it in him to pull out with the way he keeps pounding you—that he’s going to fill you with his seed, and by Eywa your fertile body would take to that right now. But alas—as much as you’re dying to know how it feels to be filled up with Jake’s hot load—bearing a half-reef, half-forest child of a Sky Person warrior wouldn’t be the best idea—all things considered—and Jake’s feeble amount of remaining logic clearly knows it, too.
You can only admire his sheer strength as Jake quickly pulls out—reluctantly—his length weeping as it’s wrenched from its tight, hot paradise with a slick pop sound. He ejaculates immediately in his rough, pumping fist as he’s hunched over you, staring at your body through a hooded, unfocused gaze. A deep, guttural rumble vibrates from his throat as he shoots hot, glowing ropes up over your front—one shooting out with enough force that it hits you in the jaw and makes you flinch, before landing in a trickling stream down your chest. It almost burns as it hits you, but cools quickly, and you stare down in awe at your skin glowing with his bioluminescent release.
“Oh fuck,” he pants with a slightly hysterical hiss of a laugh as his forehead flops against your shoulder. He releases his twitching shaft from his grip—needing both of his hands to hold himself up on either side of you as he tries to remember how to breathe—letting his heavy, spent length hang between your thighs with a thin, glowing string of his release trailing from the slit.
Fuck. How does the sight of that still warm your completely satiated loins? You can’t help but reach down over your stomach to take a swipe at the thick liquid he’s spilled on you—testing the consistency between your fingers and thumb—parting them to watch it make a sticky glowing bridge. You flick your eyes up to Jake’s completely fucked, hazy stare, and you watch his big pupils flare a little as you take a taste—slipping a coated fingertip between your lips and giving it a suck. As you can guess, it tastes as deliciously salty and bittersweet as the rest of him. If only you could bottle that essence…
“Dirty girl…” Jake rumbles with a smirk twisting his face.
“Sorry,” you grin as your face flushes impossibly more. “You taste good…”
“Yeah?” He pushes the wide, flat bridge of his nose down to rest against yours, his eyelashes tickling you. “Maybe next time I’ll make you swallow the lot of it.”
The notion of a next time and the thought of gulping back the entire hot, heavy rush of Jake’s release makes you all flustered despite your heavy eyelids, but as he rolls to his back on the fur beside you with a deep hum through his nose, bringing an arm up to rest under his head like his work here is complete, you know that you need to stop being such a horny freak and let him rest. You settle with crawling onto the side of him with your hand coming to rest on the slowing thrum of his chest, and he brings a heavy, comforting arm around you from behind—scooting you closer to him so that you’re snuggling into the crook of his sweaty armpit, your leg tangling over one of his.
Jake’s hand shifts to cup your rear you both lie there—all heavy and satiated—and he gives a quick, cheeky slap right over the skin that’s still sensitive from its earlier beating, making you flinch in a sudden jerk.
“Ow! Skxawng,” you grumble, retaliating by giving him a good flick to the chest.
Jake just chuckles like he finds your revengeful efforts cute, making you oscillate with his bobbing frame beneath you. “Nah, you loved it.”
Your lips pinch together. True.
“Nutcase.”
Your head rolls up to him in a slow, silent wrath, and you glimpse his half smirk in the dark as he lies there with his eyes closed at the ceiling—looking all pleased with himself and deeply satisfied. It makes you want to slap him and kiss him all at once.
You murmur a quiet sound of disapproval as you rest your head back down against his comfy chest, defeated by the heavy, languid sleepiness and the toasty satisfaction that’s now humming in your low gut and keeping the discomfort of your heat at bay. You stretch your legs out long, flexing and wiggling your toes beneath you as your face scrunches up in a big yawn against Jake.
You barely notice the sleep taking over you as you drift off—that warm, hazy blanket slowly shrouding the edges of your thoughts as the steady rhythm of Jake’s breathing under your ear lulls you away. You twitch innocently when his lips ghost over your shoulder and he slowly unpeels himself from your sticky skin, leaving you there—sleeping and satiated on your furs—wearing nothing but his kiss and the dried traces of his fulfilment, as he reluctantly slips away to wash the sweet, floral scent of your heat from his skin.
I think this was their peak moment of happy - sat together in their hammock, Neytiri looking over her family as Jake nuzzles into the crook of her neck, everyone giggling as they share stories of how they met. SO CUTE 😭
Hi y’all! I just wanted to check in to say I’m working on part 3 of Moth to a flame, I’ve been juggling ideas for it but have finally settled with something soo that should be up in the next week or so! Plus I have another in the works with a human/avatar reader, I wanted to do something with his young A1 assault rifle era because he’s damn FINEEEE like ok bye watch this space 🫶🏼
Jake Sully x Female Human Reader
Word count | 6.5k
Content | 18+, explicit smut, oral sex, p in v, dom Jake, size kink, dilf kink without the word daddy, bratty reader, bioluminescent cum
Read part 1 here
You and Jake get more formally acquainted in his prison cell
“-and she had the audacity to tell Katie what I said, I mean—“ you huff a laugh, waving your mug of coffee in the air—spilling some down your RDA shirt. “Shit.” You lick your thumb and rub at it. “Can you believe that?”
“Mhm,” Jake murmurs, lying on his back with his eyes closed—half-listening as you babble on, killing him softly with your petty work-life drama.
You’d returned with a vengeance since your little escapade, making yourself quite comfortable outside his cell during your shifts—the nights becoming a blur of chat, coffee and everything in between.
Jake’s attitude had mellowed as much as he’d hate to admit that, growing used to your soft voice blanketing the edges of his thoughts. He’d go as far to say he liked it—even. It kept him company in the silence of the prison at night. He enjoyed watching you lose yourself in your words—your little lips rambling—the way your lashes rested on your freckled cheeks when you looked down and giggled.
But on nights like this?
You bored him into the ground with your incessant, brattish small talk.
“—I told him that wasn’t an option, so of course Anna had to go and put her foot in and-“
“You know what?”
His deep voice breaks you off mid-sentence—your mouth hanging open as he slowly rolls his head over to look at you.
“What?”
“I’m starving.”
He breaks into a dramatic yawn—something grand and cat-like, his ears pinned back as the length of him stretches out with arms overhead—pearly fangs flashing—before rolling up to a lazy sit.
“But you just ate half an hour ago,” you laugh, tilting your head.
“That? Come on, that was an appetiser. What, you feeding me human sized portions now?” He smirks, tilting his head back at you, his dreads swaying forward. “I need a lotta sustenance, if you hadn’t noticed.”
There’s a glint in his eyes—the signature one you’d come to recognise when he was in the mood to play games with you.
You fold your arms over your chest, eyes narrowing. “You’re up to something.”
“What? Pfft,” he chuckles, throwing his hands up. “Guilty for asking for a little food, now?”
“You need to lay off, you’re getting a little podgy,” you grin, eyeing the outline of his stomach beneath his jumpsuit.
He crawls to a crouch beside the glass, forearms resting over his knees.
“New lipstick, isn’t it?”
Your bottom lip twitches as his gaze lingers on your mouth—your hand coming up subconsciously from your folded arms.
“Yeah… why?”
His eyes twinkle as they flick back up to yours. “Knew there was a reason you looked so damn pretty today.”
It was a talent, how easily he could make you blush like a stupid school girl.
“Alright. Fine,” you smirk, defeated. You stand, gathering your mug as you turn to fetch him something.
“Wait.”
His voice swivels you back.
“Bring it through yourself, this time? Not the hatch.”
Your eyes fly wide. “In your cell? Jake, I’m not supposed to—“
“Come on,” he chuckles, tail sweeping playfully across the floor behind him. “I won’t bite. Thought you were a sucker for breaking the rules. Besides, all this acquainting?” his roguish grin ties a knot in your stomach. “Think it’s about time we had a more formal meeting, wouldn’t you say?”
Your throat bobs in apprehension.
What was he thinking?
Was it innocent?
Jake?
With that grin on his face?
Absolutely not.
Did it excite you?
Absolutely.
“Fine,” you reply, tilting your chin up as you shake yourself from your thoughts. “But for the love of God… please eat the snacks, not me.”
-
It doesn’t take you long to snake your way back from the staff kitchen equipped with a bowl of fruit—through the maze of grey corridors, to the observation room, through the airlock, to the thick metal door of his cell.
You hesitate, hand hovering over the key pad, your exo-pack clinging too tightly to your face as you take a deep breath—an attempt to calm your racing heart.
It’s just Jake.
No big deal.
Steeling yourself, you punch in the code—a sharp hiss of air spilling through the sliding door and you step in, quickly—letting it slide closed behind you, the bowl balanced precariously in your hand.
It’s eerily quiet other than the rhythmic thrum of distant machinery as you peel your eyes over to where he’s sat against the wall—his usual spot—long legs spread out in front of him, hands resting loosely in his lap—the only sign of movement the small, twitching sway of the end of his tail.
His eyes are fixated on you like two solemn, yellow orbs.
You stare back—wide-eyed and frozen to the spot.
Seeing him numerous times behind screens and glass was different. With no barrier between you, there’s a charge in the air that you weren’t prepared for—an energy you can’t place. You can smell him—a natural musk of body odour—something wild, and a little salty.
It makes you wonder if he tastes like he smells. Would his skin be rough under your tongue, or soft?
His deep voice breaks the silence, making you jump—a slow grin cracking across his face.
“What you standing over there all shy for, hm?” He beckons you over with a hand. “C’mere, wanna see what you’ve brought me.”
You inch your way over—bowl held loosely in your hand—until you’re stood eye-level before him.
His eyes fall to the bowl, a dark eyebrow quirking. “Fruit?”
“You need the diet.”
He chuckles, a sound that vibrates your entire body. “Rude. Here, set it down.” He gestures beside him with a soft, charming smile.
You bend down, leaning forward to place it—falling for his trap as easily as a rabbit to the snare as he catches your wrist, pulling with a slight tug that might be playful if there wasn’t such an effortless strength behind it.
The bowl clatters to the floor, a couple of berries rolling away.
“Jake! What’re you—“
“Sit on my lap?”
His question is late as you’re already sliding into the crook of his legs with a squeal—his knees coming up behind you, propping you up like an easel.
“For God’s sake, knew I couldn’t trust yo—“
The cat gets your tongue once you’re eye to eye with him, just inches from his face.
Breathtaking doesn’t do him justice—not this close.
Everything about him is magnificent. Every feature monumental in size.
Silver freckles dance across his face like little stars—huge, sharp feline eyes flickering with jets of gold, his striped, indigo skin glowing even under the most unforgiving light of the prison cell. You feel the sheer power of his lungs beneath you as his stomach softly rises and falls—the immense strength lying dormant in his muscular, solid limbs.
Your eyes drop to the long, textured braid winding over his shoulder, and you reach for it—curiosity getting the better of you—your apprehension long forgotten.
Jake observes in a patient silence as you slide his kuru through your grip, tilting the end up to reveal the mesmerising pink tendrils.
“Woah,” you marvel. “That’s amazing.”
His chest huffs. You remind him of himself—years ago—discovering his avatar body for the first time, when everything was still new and intriguing. It’s a precious kind of innocence that tugs at his heartstrings—one that’s lost all too soon.
Your captivation falters when you notice the small circles ghosting over your thigh. Jake’s thumb pad.
When did he start doing that?
Your eyes widen, heart picking up a beat—but you feign ignorance, continuing to turn it in your hands, studying with intent.
“So… how does it feel? You know… when you connect it to stuff?”
He glances up, narrowing his eyes with a low hum as he ponders the question.
“Intense.”
The tip of his tail sweeps past you from behind, making you jump—his fingers trailing a long, languid line up your arching spine. “Like a tingling. The connection running deep in through your bones.” His fingertips slide back down to the base of your back, chasing a shudder that racks through you uncontrollably.
He chuckles. “A bit like that.”
You let his kuru fall down, holding his gaze with eyes full of wonder.
“You amaze me, Jake.”
He blinks. Still for a beat as he gazes back at your pretty, doe-eyed face beneath the thin glass of your exo-pack.
“How long can you hold your breath?” He asks suddenly, a challenging smile forming at the corners of his mouth.
“Why?” You give a quiet laugh, brows crinkling in confusion as he reaches out to brush back a stray strand of hair that’s clinging to your mask. “Well, actually—now you mention it, I am quite proud. My personal best was four and a half minutes in RDA training when—“
His hand engulfs your mask—stopping your words in their tracks once again as he unclips it with swift expertise, lifting it from your face before leaning forward and catching your mouth with his.
Everything goes still. Your eyes flutter shut as he steals the salty tasting kiss with lips rougher than you’d imagined. It’s deep, slow and deliberate—the tip of his larger tongue slipping into your mouth to brush against yours—a greeting—before it’s gone again.
He pulls away to reattach your mask, relieving you from the toxic air that’s tailored for his na’vi lungs.
It’s a fleeting moment that has you weakened to the absolute core.
Jake watches you come back, feeling your little heart thrum in your chest, your heavy breath beneath his palm.
“Think you enjoyed that a little too much, sweetheart,” he chuckles quietly. He runs his hand over your chest—the contour of your breasts—checking you. “You alright?”
“Yeah,” you reply, voice a little shaky, eyes crinkling in a smile. “I.. You just have no idea how long I’ve dreamt of that.”
He pulls you in closer, his nose hovering under the line of your jaw. “Hope it didn’t disappoint.”
“Jake, what about the fruit…” you glance sidelong at the abandoned bowl beside you; berries spilled across the floor.
“I wasn’t hungry for that.”
Your chest hitches as he slides a hand beneath your shirt, ruching the material up over your bra before settling back against the wall with an appreciative twitch of his tail.
“Knew I couldn’t trust you,” you murmur, a blotchy flush creeping over your chest under his wolfish gaze.
“C’mon, baby,” his grin is crooked and boyish, eyes untamed as they flick from your face to your chest. “Where’s that little slut that teased me behind the glass, hm? Thought you couldn’t wait to get your hands on me.”
“This is riskier, someone could walk in—“
“Mm, they could.” He leans off the wall, face close to your chest—his warm breath ghosting over a hardening nipple beneath your bra. “But that’s half the fun.”
He envelops your boobs in his hands—enormous and rough, and your head starts spinning—the feeling of them everything you’d dreamed of and more.
“Think I’ve opened a can of worms,” you say, an attempted joke that comes out far too breathily.
He squeezes—lightly—enjoying the little sound that escapes you.
“M’just so horny, baby. Can’t even jerk off. Makes such a mess in here.”
“Jake..” you warn—a futile attempt, your chest puffing up into his hands, betraying you.
He leans down, a slither of pink tongue darting out to brush against the thin material—testing you—the warm, wet sensation igniting a trail of sparks through every nerve of your body.
“Don’t want me to make you feel good?” He murmurs, manipulation slipping from his tongue like honey.
You glance down to where his cock is pressed up like a rod against his jumpsuit—a small, damp pinpoint of glowing pre-cum already seeping through.
It’s enough to snap you faster than you can think.
“Here,” you murmur, fumbling your shirt over your head before unclasping your bra, your boobs springing free as it slides to the floor.
His pupils dilate immediately to drink in every inch of the plump little tits he’d been envisioning ever since you took your top off behind the glass.
“Goddamn, baby… Can I?” he leans forward more, his tail smacking the ground with a dull thump—excitement taking over.
You nod, eagerly. “Please do.”
He takes your boob, dragging a loose, open-mouthed kiss across the plush—his eyes closing at the softness of it—before he captures the nipple, sucking like a hungry hound.
“God, Jake, easy,” you sigh, arching your back off the ridges of his knees as his hands loop around your back, pulling you up closer to him.
His tongue rolls around the nipple with a vibrating groan, flicking over the sensitive tip—his ears perking up at your whimpering, yellow eyes darting up to watch your reaction. “You like that?” He murmurs, grazing his thumb back and forth over the other hard peak.
“Mhm, so fucking much,” you nod wildly, squeezing his biceps through the material of his jumpsuit—huge and solid arms—something sturdy that keeps you grounded as the pleasure pulses through you more rapidly. Something for you to hold onto as you start grinding against your own panties.
You peer down at him, his dark lashes resting like crescent moons against his cheeks—lips moving in a lazy manner, and you realise he’s enjoying every second of this—getting a thrill out of pleasing you, taking his time to turn you on.
And boy, was it.
Your hips shake in little shudders, head rolling back with a blissful groan as you enjoy the sensation of your own soak against your engorged clit.
He pulls away—suddenly—halting your begging hips, leaving you chasing the feeling.
“Think you’re getting way too excited there, princess,” he smirks wryly.
The breath knocks from your lungs as he flips you over by the waist, your front resting against his propped-up knees as he spreads your ass and thighs in front of him like a platter.
“Let’s see what panties we have on today, hm?” He hums as he peels your pants down to your knees—revealing the skimpy, black laced thong buried between your ass cheeks—a cute bow decorating the top—something you’d starting wearing in recent weeks, in case of—well. Just in case.
“Ohh-hoho,” he jeers with a hearty chuckle, his stomach bouncing you. “Is this for me?”
“Shut up,” you groan, flicking his knee—thanking the heavens you’re faced away so he can’t see your cheeks glowing bright pink.
“Cute. I liked the white ones,” he murmurs, sliding his hands up and down your hips, “but this is sexy as fuck.”
He circles your ass cheeks in his grip like putty—squeezing it, pushing it together before pulling it apart—an appreciative groan escaping him at the sight of the damp black string nestled in your tight slit.
“Dirty little slut, ain’tcha? Wearing this to work. Thinkin’ of me.”
You wiggle around like a mewling kitten—completely at his mercy as he teases a slow finger down the length of it.
“Don’t be a brat, now,” he growls, a firm hand holding down your fidgeting leg as he sinks further down the wall, peeling your pants off your legs fully and throwing them to the side before jerking your ass up higher to his face. He leans forward—quickly—nuzzling between your thighs, his eyes closing as he fills his lungs with the teasing scent that’s lingered in the air from the moment you stepped foot in his cell. He holds you steady by your twitching hips, hot breath pouring through the thin line between your pussy and his parted mouth as he inhales you like a suffocated man.
“Arghfuck,” he sighs loudly, his tail thrashing the floor as he pulls himself in further. “That’s so fucking good.”
“Jake!” You squeal, the flat of his nose pushing your thong in deeper with each delve, sending ripples of warmth from your pussy down your legs.
“Let’s get this out the way, shall we? Doin’ neither of us any favours.” He hooks a finger through the black string, pulling it to the side to fully reveal your pussy—crimsoned with arousal—the pink puffy shell-like centre glinting with your slick.
The silence falls heavy as he touches it—two fingers running slow circles around the entrance, his ears flattening at the soft squelch of your wet warmth.
“Jake, mfuck,” you whine, head spinning like a disco ball against his knees.
“So fuckin’ turned on fr’me, aren’t you.” He bites his lip as he explores your slit, gliding a thick thumb pad down the length—landing on your puffy clit and pressing with a calculated pressure that makes your heart skip a beat. “That feel good, hm?”
“Mmm. Need more Jake, please,” you plea in shameful desperation.
“Yeah?” His erection twitches with a begging push against its restraint—but patience calls. He knows he needs your little human pussy loosened up if he’s to fit inside. “What’d you need then, sweetheart?”
“Mm..mouth.”
“Do you now,” he hums.
You’re not sure if it’s his warm breath ghosting over your cunt or his tongue itself. All you know is the sudden electric warmth spilling through you—flooding your body as you tremble with mewls of pleasure in his lap.
The tip of his tongue dips in, curling—scooping out as much of your sweet pussy’s juices as he can in a single swipe, before swallowing it with a loud, relieved sigh.
Stars haze the edges of your vision the moment his tongue finds your clit—licking wide, repetitive drags up and down—switching to quick teasing circles with the tip, your little hysterical noises like music to his ears.
The pleasure builds up in waves—taking you higher—until it becomes a plateau of hot, fuzzy warmth that has your thighs clenching around his face, your climax soon approaching.
“Close?” He asks as if reading your body like it’s a language he already knew.
“Mmmmh,” you mumble.
He pulls away, tongue sweeping over his lips, leaving your pussy throbbing.
Your eyes fling wide with a sharp gasp as two thick fingers greet you—pushing inside, stretching you open in a way you didn’t know you needed.
He explores inside your entrance in shallow circles until finding the sweet, spongey spot he’s looking for. “There she is,” he murmurs.
Your eyes roll back in a groan as he curls his fingers down against your g-spot, dragging against the target with a pressure that has something hot coiling very quickly inside you. A sharp sensation that feels like you need to pee.
“Jake, feels like m’gonna explode.”
“Don’t hold it.” He leans beneath his working fingers to capture your clit in his mouth—pulling it between his lips with a strong suck while his fingers pump quicker, curling harder against that spot of pressure that’s undoing you.
You stiffen as you feel it building—up and up—until you’re tiptoeing on a wobbly tight rope, knuckles white on his knees, about to brink.
Your face scrunches tightly. “I’m—AH—I’m, I’m gonna—“
A final rolling vibration of his tongue against your clit and his fingers digging tightly into the spot of pressure snaps you—sending you spiralling into an explosive, squirting orgasm—delicious hot waves relieving your pussy, every nerve in your body shuddering with pleasure as the tension he’s built up in you releases three-fold.
His throat rumbles deeply as his takes it all from behind—his well-earned gush pouring onto his face, trickling down his forearms—fucking up his jumpsuit once again, but like heck he cares. He drinks it up, lapping your ass and thighs clean— tasting the subtle sweet and salty mix of your cum before dragging a last soft lick over your sensitive pussy.
“Damn, sweetheart,” he chuckles. “You’re quite the squirter.”
You can hear the self-satisfied look plastered all over his face.
“I’m not, usually,” you laugh out of breath. “That was incredible.”
He plants a slow stream of wet kisses up your thighs to your ass, big blue hands sliding up and down your hips. “I can tell by the mess you’ve made of me.”
You lean over your shoulder to take a glance, your cheeks flushing at the sight—his jumpsuit soaked with dark wet patches, his blue skin glistening with your cum as he grins foolishly.
“Shit… sorry,” you giggle.
“Sorry?” His grin turns crooked. “We can make it work to our advantage, don’t you think?”
He unzips the jumpsuit, shedding it from his arms—his darkening eyes trained on yours as he rolls it down lower, past his hips.
His incredible blue cock springs free with a slap against his abs, and you can all but gawk at the sight. The thick, veiny shaft curves upwards from the base of stubbly, dark pubic hair around his groin. It bobs with a gentle rhythmic pulse—the foreskin rolled back fully to reveal the swollen, aroused head—blue pre-cum trickling out of the slit. Your eyes skit up over his chest and arms as you swallow—your stomach flipping as the sheer size and strength of him dawns on you once again.
“Seen something you like, baby?” He taunts, the corners of his mouth quirking up.
You nod weakly, biting your lip. “This…”
You reach back for his cock with an outstretched palm, but he grabs your wrist—pushing you away with a flick, his eyes storming over with a firmness.
“Only when I say you can.”
He’s cruel—making you watch as he takes it in his own hand instead, teasing you— rolling it up and down in his grip, his head lolling back against the wall with a relieved sigh. It doesn’t take long before he simply can’t wait—his knees hitching higher, sliding you further into his lap with a small squeak.
“No more fucking around now, c’mere pretty.”
He pushes his cock down with his thumb, resting it along the entire length of your heat, both of you groaning in unison at the contact.
“Fuck,” he sighs, rolling it up in little jerks as he grips your hips, gliding his cock between your ass cheeks like a slip ’n slide. “You feel amazing, baby.”
Your head rolls forward at the ridged underside of his warm, smooth hardness rubbing against your cunt, building up heat with each drag.
“Put it in Jake, please?” You’re making me lose my damn mind,” you whinge.
His chest is heavy as he takes it in his hand again, pumping a few more times before pushing it back against your clenching hole. “Think you’ve cummed hard enough to fit me in this small cunt, hm?”
“I can handle it,” you moan, grinding against him in frustration.
He drags it up and down—your clear juices mixing with his pre—until he guides it in with his thumb, the head finally pushing inside.
Your sharp whimper clashes with his closed-mouth groan as he slides in inch by inch—two sounds stemming from different sensations.
“Fuck, that’s it,” he moans—his nostrils flaring, eyes falling shut. “Just like that, pretty angel. So fuckin’ tight.”
His grip on your hips becomes bruising as he pushes in more boisterously with growing excitement, until you yelp—a high-pitched warning that stops him in his tracks.
“Too much, sweetheart?” He breathes.
“It’s big,” you chuckle in a fluster. “Just… adjusting.”
You jolt as he reaches under his dick to dust fingers over your mound, rubbing steady circles on your clit that soon has a pleasant warmth replacing the burn.
“Better?”
“Mmh,” you nod with a little sigh, your muscles relaxing, letting his cock sink in further.
His tail flicks up to curl around your thigh as he pulls you back to lie flush against him—giving him better access—one hand covering your clit, the other snaking around your throat in loose, subtle dominance.
“I’ve got you,” he coos from above your ear in a whisper, his breath ticklish.
“Go deeper, Jake,” you shudder—craving more—sinking your nails into the flesh of his forearm as you lean back against him.
The pain is a pleasurable drug that has you hooked—your pussy stretching open for him like a flower until he’s in almost to the hilt, pressing tightly against your cervix.
Your walls give an involuntary squeeze around him, sending a strong pulse traveling from the base of his cock to the tip that you both feel.
“Fuck, good girl,” he whispers, his fangs grazing your ear. “Making me so damn proud, princess. Feels good, doesn’t it?”
The sex isn’t brash. Not to begin with. Both of you moving slowly, absorbing every sensation—the air of the cell falling heavy with the hushed sounds of deep breathing and whispered moans.
Your fingers tangle in his thick dreads, back arching up in delight as he kisses and nips at the sweet spot on your neck—one hand running down to fondle your breasts while the other works ceaseless circles over your clit.
“Feels so good, Jake,” you whimper, rolling your hips faster against his with growing pleasure—his dick slipping in and out quicker now, easier with your building slick—the sound of moist skin slapping softly.
“Yeah?” He bites down on your shoulder before trailing a wet tongue up your neck, sending a ferocious shiver through you. “Gonna cum for me again?”
“Mmm, yeah,” you cry.
“All over my cock, just like you’ve always wanted?”
His dirty talk has you bouncing quicker and he adjusts to match your pace, one hand splaying out on the floor to hold him up as he ruts up into you, the other arm holding you in place while his fingers pick up to rapid flicks over your pulsing bud.
“Thassit baby, ride me how you need.”
“Mmfuck!” You wail louder, verging quickly.
He grabs your hand, guiding it over your belly under his, both feeling his cock bulging in and out beneath your skin. “Feel that? Feel me buried inside you?”
You glance down at it in fascination—your face scrunching up—thighs clenching and squeezing together as your climax fast approaches. Jake moves to the side, his cock hitting a sweet spot that has you gasping, legs shaking.
“Right there, baby?” He pants, holding that spot as he thrusts into you harder—faster—clamping your waist down as he fucks you into your orgasm, sliding two fingers either side of your clit—trapping it—rolling the hood back and forth.
You cum—screaming silently, head thrown back against his shoulder as your pussy explodes with throbs of white-hot pleasure around his dick, your heart racing against his chest.
Jake feels every sensation—your tight cunt clenching around his cock with your orgasm, trying to milk him dry—and it damn near enough works.
His head falls back against the wall as he stifles a groan between tight lips, his eyes clenched shut. It’s all he can do to stop himself from cumming—his cock throbbing on the edge of release inside you—but he holds it with a concentrated thrash of his tail.
Don’t you dare, Jake.
He always had been a self-torture sucker with an edging kink. He thrived on the control.
“My God,” you groan, writhing lazily in his arms with his rock-hard dick still firmly buried inside you. “I’ve never felt this goo—”
“We ain’t done yet, pretty.”
You barely have time to recover as he’s shifting onto his knees, carrying you against him in a shuffle to the floor-to-ceiling glass before plopping you down on all fours in front of it.
“Remember this old friend?” he smirks.
You bite your grin. “How could I forget.”
He clicks his tongue with a tilt of his chin. “Hands. On the glass.”
The surface is stone cold as you reach out to splay your palms against it, watching in the reflection as he positions himself behind you, spreading your thighs apart with his knee.
You gasp as he yanks your thong down to your knees before grabbing your hips and lining his cock up with your entrance. You nearly choke on your own tongue as he thrusts into you with no hesitation—his ears flat to his head as his hands clamp tightly around your waist, claiming you.
“Sucha good pussy,” he sighs, his stimulated cock twitching with relief to be buried back inside the tight warmth where it belongs.
The scent of sweat and sex hangs in the stuffy air of the cell as he fucks you—hard—the way he needs, sweat trickling down his temple—the sound of his balls slapping against you over and over in a quick rhythm—your white, gummy slick pooling around the base of his cock as it punches in and out of you.
“C’mon—baby,” he breathes, voice tight with effort. “Wanna make that pussy pop once more.”
You pant—head hanging between your arms, your frame becoming limp and weary as you hold onto the glass with weak hands. You feel him deep against your womb, the pressure held inside you, but your climax hovers behind a wall you can’t quite climb with your level of exhaustion.
“Can’t,” you sigh in defeat, head flopping further. “M’too tired.”
“Hey. Look at me.”
It’s a growl that has your eyes snapping up to his reflection in the glass.
You watch him—his sweat-slicked arm and shoulder muscles rippling under the down-lighting of the cell as he tugs at your hips over and over, his abs clenching as he ruts into you—sharp teeth bared.
It’s a sight that has your heat building up again in a way you didn’t think possible.
His eyes are heavily engulfed with the black of his pupils as he watches your reflection in the glass too—your palms splayed against it—swollen, heavy tits bouncing, your mouth hanging open with a trickle of drool down your chin as you take a cock too big for you from behind.
He falls forward with both hands on the glass, trapping you between it as a groan escapes him through gritted teeth. “God, needa cum.” His cock twitches wildly, his thrusts faltering. “C’mon, baby, cum fr me. You can do it.”
“Don’t stop, Jake,” you gasp weakly, brows knitted together in concentration, the pulsing of his edging dick sending waves of heat through you, “I’m almost… there—”
Jake—with the stamina of a God—plummets into you with the last of the strength he has left, picking up his pace to a feral shag—reaching down to fumble desperately with your clit. His balls tighten, cock twitching with one last heavy pulse that starts to snap the rope deep in his groin.
The home run.
“What’s my name?” He demands of you with all the authority you’d expect from a title like Toruk Makto.
“J-Jake…”
“Louder.”
He pulls your hair back in a fist, jerking your head up to look at him—his other hand crawling tightly around your throat as he makes you whine his name pathetically—each syllable coming out as a choppy choke with every slamming thrust.
“J-a-ah-ak-e!!”
It’s the last push you need.
You cum, quickly—finally—choking for air under his tight grip on your throat as white stars blur the edges of your vision. Your knees buckle under the weight of him—each shudder and raw cry racking through your exhausted little ribs until you melt in his grasp.
“Fuck—“ he pulls out, tapping your thigh with urgency. “Turn round baby—quick, gonna cum.”
His tone spins you into action and crawl around on your knees to face him.
“Deep breath.” He unclips your exo-pack with a shaky hand, the other clenched tightly around his cock as he guides it to your mouth.
You catch the tip just in time as it starts throbbing out the first spurts of his hot, salty load onto your tongue.
“Oh fuck, open that pretty mouth ’n take it all,” he gasps—gripping the back of your head roughly as he pulls your mouth further down his cock, his hips jutting forward in trembling thrusts as he unloads.
You try not to choke, gripping the shaft between both hands as it throbs with strong orgasmic pulses—sending wave after wave of his thick cum down your throat.
“Mmmff,” you muffle through a gag as you gulp back each salty wave, gawping up at him with watery lashes and mascara-stained cheeks.
“Swallowin’ like my good lil slut, huh, sucha good girl takin’ all my cum like that, t’s so fuckin’ hot babydoll,” he babbles, drunkenly—his words becoming slurred and thick in accent as he drags an index finger across your jaw, gazing down with heavy-lidded eyes at the sight of your small, soft lips wrapped around his cock.
Your chest spasms as you swallow the last of it—but you never leave his eyes. Sucking his cock-head dry, a mix of sex and salt coating your tongue as you lick over the sensitive slit. He squirms and collapses over you—his palm hitting the glass, the other landing on the small of your back.
“Fuck. Good job, baby,” he pants, swiftly pulling your body up to his chest as he falls back onto his haunches and re-attaches your mask.
“Breathe.”
You gasp in, flooding your starved lungs with oxygen as Jake presses soothing coos and kisses into your neck, his arms cocooning you.
You hold onto his shoulders as your breath returns, your ruddy cheeks lighting up with a toothy, idiotic grin.
“Holy shit. Thanks for the heads up on the tsunami.”
He chuckles with flattening ears. “Sorry, cupcake. Didn’t wanna make a mess.” His fingers dust your hair back from your mask. “Knew you had it in you.” His eyes flick over you—inspecting—before he cups your chin. “Open your mouth.”
You do as he says—opening with a raised brow, wondering why he looks like he’s found something extremely amusing in there.
“What is it?”
“Look.”
You turn your head to your reflection in the glass, your eyes widening in horror as you see your tongue stained with a luminous blue glow. It looks like you’ve eaten sour sweets—something between toxic waste and a blue slushie.
“Jesus, Jake! How long is that going to be there?” You swipe at it to no avail, the colour not shifting.
He tilts his head back and forth. “Give it a week.”
“A week?!”
His shoulders bob with a low laugh. “Nah, just fooling. Sure it’ll be gone in a day or two.” His tone isn’t certain. “At least you can think of me every time you look in the mirror,” he smirks, nuzzling against your shoulder.
You shake your head—unamused—but your lips can’t help but curve into a soft grin. Your eyes close as you slump into him with a small yawn—exhaustion quickly catching up.
“Hey, you better get going,” he mumbles, peeling you off him you as your tired, pouting face tries to follow. “Can’t have you falling asleep in here.”
“But you’re so warm and nice,” you moan. “Wanna sleep on you.”
He huffs—softly—his eyes crinkling at the edges.
“You’re cute. But you gotta get dressed. C’mon, now.”
He plops you down on the floor before standing and zipping up his jumpsuit. You glance up in awe as he towers above you before your knees tremble, threatening to buckle beneath you.
Jake’s quick to lean down, shooting a hand out for you to grab onto.
“Woah, steady there,” he chuckles, watching you wobble like a deer on ice as you try hold yourself up.
“Safe to say you’ve fucked me senseless,” you giggle. “I’m good, I’ve got it.”
You sway diagonally as you pull your pants up, staggering to where your shirt lies in a heap on the floor before picking it up and tossing it over your head. You check yourself in the reflection of the glass—smoothing your hair, sticking your tongue out and scrunching your nose at the stain—before turning to where Jake’s already flopped down on the floor with his legs crossed, an arm propped up behind his head.
He’s watching you, something deep and satisfied softening his sharp yellow eyes.
“Don’t forget your fruit,” you smirk.
He glances beside him at the untouched fruit, picking a scarlet berry from the bowl and popping it in his mouth with leisure as he holds your eyes, the tip of his tail giving a subtle sway next to him. “Mm. Tastes good.”
You tap at the sides of your thighs as you watch, suddenly feeling hot and awkward under his intense gaze.
“Good… well, guess I err… should go.”
“Guess you should.”
You clear your throat. “If you ever want to…”
He quirks an eyebrow.
“...Eat fruit again…” your cheeks flush the colour of the berries.
The chuckle bubbles in his throat. “Depends what you bring.”
“Whatever you want.”
He turns a berry in his fingers. “Doesn’t taste as sweet as you.”
Your heart skips a beat.
His smirk slides into your stomach. “Go on, get out. Starting to look like you want another round. Gimme a couple moments, at least.”
“Don’t tempt me,” you chuckle in a titter, swaying back and forth on your feet.
A pause. The air thick.
“Right, well… I’ll be going,” you say, clapping your hand on your thigh before turning on light, feeble legs.
“Forgetting something?”
You glance back over your shoulder.
He’s holding your lanyard up between his fingers.
The lanyard with your key card in.
He couldn’t get out without knowing the code, but your heart still starts to race. How did he…?
You stride over, snatching it from his hand as you glare him down, his ears twitching back and forth in amusement. Dangerous play in his eyes.
“Just because you fuck like a God doesn’t mean you can mess with me,” you remark, tilting your head up defiantly.
His smirk curls further—a lazy, amused lift.
“I fuck like a God, huh?”
Your lips press into a line, eyes narrowing. “It’s not an excuse, Jake.”
“You know how adorable you are when you’re pissed? Needa remind me to annoy you more often.”
The hint of a wry smirk flickers across your face.
“Fine.” You saunter the last steps to the door, emphasising the sway of your hips—the one that gets him hot around the collar.
“But the more I stay pissed?”
His ears perk up.
“The less you get to see these.”
You don’t need to gesture to your tits for him to know what you’re talking about.
He hisses out a throaty laugh. “Alright, sweetheart. You win.”
You grin. “See you tomorrow night, Jake.”
The door seals closed behind you with a thump.
He exhales in satisfaction as he settles back on both arms, eyelids getting heavy, sleep starting to creep over him.
Being held captive wasn’t half as bad with his little prison play thing.
Pairing: Jake Sully x toddler!daughter
Warnings: fluff, toddler tantrums, minor sibling mischief, Jake being a total softie.
Summary: being the youngest member of the Sully family means learning a few bad habits from the older brothers.
In the center of the family pod, the youngest Sully was currently engaged in a protest. The crime? Being told she could not ride an ikran.
"No! I go! Daddy, my go!" she shrieked, stomping her foot against the woven flooring. She had already managed to knock over a basket of dried fruit and was currently eyeing Neytiri’s favorite weaving loom with intent.
Jake let out a sigh, rubbing the bridge of his nose. He loved his kids, but his babygirl was an entirely different beast when she was being capricious. "That’s enough. Look at me."
The toddler paused, her tail lashing behind her. She looked up, her eyes wide and defiant.
Jake dropped to one knee to meet her at eye level, putting on his best seriuos face. "We don't throw things, and we definitely don't yell. I said no. Stop that. Sit. Now."
For a moment, it looked like he’d won. The little girl’s lip trembled, and she went stiff.
But then, a memory flickered in her mind. Just yesterday, she had watched from the shadows as Lo’ak and Neteyam got into it over a lost spear. When Neteyam had pulled the older brother card, Lo’ak had leaned forward and delivered a gesture of such profound disrespect that the toddler had been entranced ever since.
She took a deep breath.
She shoved her tongue out as far as it would go, scrunching her nose and narrowing her eyes just like Lo’ak had.
Jake froze. The stern lecture died in his throat.
Behind him, he heard a muffled sound. He turned his head slightly to see Lo’ak standing in the entrance of the pod, eyes wide with horror, quickly covering his mouth with both hands. Neteyam was right behind him, looking between the toddler and his father with an expression that said I’m not involved in this.
"Did you just..." Jake turned back to his daughter. "Where did you learn that?"
The toddler did it again. Pffft.
"Lo'ak," Jake barked, not looking away from the tiny rebel.
"I didn't—I, I didn't teach her!" Lo’ak protested.
Jake looked back at his youngest. She was still standing there, looking incredibly proud of her new weapon. The corner of his mouth twitched.
"Alright, listen here, you little menace," Jake muttered, reaching out to scoop her up. She let out a squeal of protest as he tucked her under his arm like a sack of grain. "If you’re going to act like your brother, you can follow him. Both of you are on dish duty."
Jake’s resolve lasted exactly four seconds.
As soon as he reached the cooking area and set her down, her little face crumpled, her eyes flooding with tears. A heartbroken sob escaped her.
"No... no dish," she wailed, her tiny hands reaching up for him. "D-Dad..."
Jake was a warrior, a leader, but he was absolutely weak for his crying daughter.
"Hey, hey, no, okay. Shhh," Jake muttered and scooped her back up, this time pulling her firmly against his chest. He felt her wet face tuck into the crook of his neck, her sobbing breaths hitching against his skin.
"I’m sorry, I’m sorry," he whispered, pacing in a small circle and rubbing her back in the way that always calmed her down. "No dish duty. I was just kidding, babygirl."
From the edge of the pod, Lo’ak watched the scene, his jaw dropping. "Oh, seriously? I do that and I get grounded for a week! She sticks her tongue out and gets a hug?"
Jake shot a sharp look over his shoulder. "Not another word, Lo’ak."
As his son grumbled and retreated, Jake felt the toddler’s grip tighten around his neck. Her crying began to subside into small sniffles. He pulled back just enough to look at her, using his thumb to wipe away a stray tear from her cheek.
"You can't do that to me, kiddo," he sighed, his forehead leaning against hers. "You’re going to be the death of me."
She looked at him, her eyes still watery. "No dish?"
"No dish," Jake promised, defeated. "But if you stick your tongue at me again, I’m telling your mother."
The toddler let out a tiny giggle, burying her face back into his chest. Jake knew he was being played, and he knew he was setting a terrible precedent for discipline.
Jake Sully x Female Human Reader
Word count | 6.5k
Content | 18+, explicit smut, oral sex, p in v, dom Jake, size kink, dilf kink without the word daddy, bratty reader, bioluminescent cum
Read part 1 here
You and Jake get more formally acquainted in his prison cell
“-and she had the audacity to tell Katie what I said, I mean—“ you huff a laugh, waving your mug of coffee in the air—spilling some down your RDA shirt. “Shit.” You lick your thumb and rub at it. “Can you believe that?”
“Mhm,” Jake murmurs, lying on his back with his eyes closed—half-listening as you babble on, killing him softly with your petty work-life drama.
You’d returned with a vengeance since your little escapade, making yourself quite comfortable outside his cell during your shifts—the nights becoming a blur of chat, coffee and everything in between.
Jake’s attitude had mellowed as much as he’d hate to admit that, growing used to your soft voice blanketing the edges of his thoughts. He’d go as far to say he liked it—even. It kept him company in the silence of the prison at night. He enjoyed watching you lose yourself in your words—your little lips rambling—the way your lashes rested on your freckled cheeks when you looked down and giggled.
But on nights like this?
You bored him into the ground with your incessant, brattish small talk.
“—I told him that wasn’t an option, so of course Anna had to go and put her foot in and-“
“You know what?”
His deep voice breaks you off mid-sentence—your mouth hanging open as he slowly rolls his head over to look at you.
“What?”
“I’m starving.”
He breaks into a dramatic yawn—something grand and cat-like, his ears pinned back as the length of him stretches out with arms overhead—pearly fangs flashing—before rolling up to a lazy sit.
“But you just ate half an hour ago,” you laugh, tilting your head.
“That? Come on, that was an appetiser. What, you feeding me human sized portions now?” He smirks, tilting his head back at you, his dreads swaying forward. “I need a lotta sustenance, if you hadn’t noticed.”
There’s a glint in his eyes—the signature one you’d come to recognise when he was in the mood to play games with you.
You fold your arms over your chest, eyes narrowing. “You’re up to something.”
“What? Pfft,” he chuckles, throwing his hands up. “Guilty for asking for a little food, now?”
“You need to lay off, you’re getting a little podgy,” you grin, eyeing the outline of his stomach beneath his jumpsuit.
He crawls to a crouch beside the glass, forearms resting over his knees.
“New lipstick, isn’t it?”
Your bottom lip twitches as his gaze lingers on your mouth—your hand coming up subconsciously from your folded arms.
“Yeah… why?”
His eyes twinkle as they flick back up to yours. “Knew there was a reason you looked so damn pretty today.”
It was a talent, how easily he could make you blush like a stupid school girl.
“Alright. Fine,” you smirk, defeated. You stand, gathering your mug as you turn to fetch him something.
“Wait.”
His voice swivels you back.
“Bring it through yourself, this time? Not the hatch.”
Your eyes fly wide. “In your cell? Jake, I’m not supposed to—“
“Come on,” he chuckles, tail sweeping playfully across the floor behind him. “I won’t bite. Thought you were a sucker for breaking the rules. Besides, all this acquainting?” his roguish grin ties a knot in your stomach. “Think it’s about time we had a more formal meeting, wouldn’t you say?”
Your throat bobs in apprehension.
What was he thinking?
Was it innocent?
Jake?
With that grin on his face?
Absolutely not.
Did it excite you?
Absolutely.
“Fine,” you reply, tilting your chin up as you shake yourself from your thoughts. “But for the love of God… please eat the snacks, not me.”
-
It doesn’t take you long to snake your way back from the staff kitchen equipped with a bowl of fruit—through the maze of grey corridors, to the observation room, through the airlock, to the thick metal door of his cell.
You hesitate, hand hovering over the key pad, your exo-pack clinging too tightly to your face as you take a deep breath—an attempt to calm your racing heart.
It’s just Jake.
No big deal.
Steeling yourself, you punch in the code—a sharp hiss of air spilling through the sliding door and you step in, quickly—letting it slide closed behind you, the bowl balanced precariously in your hand.
It’s eerily quiet other than the rhythmic thrum of distant machinery as you peel your eyes over to where he’s sat against the wall—his usual spot—long legs spread out in front of him, hands resting loosely in his lap—the only sign of movement the small, twitching sway of the end of his tail.
His eyes are fixated on you like two solemn, yellow orbs.
You stare back—wide-eyed and frozen to the spot.
Seeing him numerous times behind screens and glass was different. With no barrier between you, there’s a charge in the air that you weren’t prepared for—an energy you can’t place. You can smell him—a natural musk of body odour—something wild, and a little salty.
It makes you wonder if he tastes like he smells. Would his skin be rough under your tongue, or soft?
His deep voice breaks the silence, making you jump—a slow grin cracking across his face.
“What you standing over there all shy for, hm?” He beckons you over with a hand. “C’mere, wanna see what you’ve brought me.”
You inch your way over—bowl held loosely in your hand—until you’re stood eye-level before him.
His eyes fall to the bowl, a dark eyebrow quirking. “Fruit?”
“You need the diet.”
He chuckles, a sound that vibrates your entire body. “Rude. Here, set it down.” He gestures beside him with a soft, charming smile.
You bend down, leaning forward to place it—falling for his trap as easily as a rabbit to the snare as he catches your wrist, pulling with a slight tug that might be playful if there wasn’t such an effortless strength behind it.
The bowl clatters to the floor, a couple of berries rolling away.
“Jake! What’re you—“
“Sit on my lap?”
His question is late as you’re already sliding into the crook of his legs with a squeal—his knees coming up behind you, propping you up like an easel.
“For God’s sake, knew I couldn’t trust yo—“
The cat gets your tongue once you’re eye to eye with him, just inches from his face.
Breathtaking doesn’t do him justice—not this close.
Everything about him is magnificent. Every feature monumental in size.
Silver freckles dance across his face like little stars—huge, sharp feline eyes flickering with jets of gold, his striped, indigo skin glowing even under the most unforgiving light of the prison cell. You feel the sheer power of his lungs beneath you as his stomach softly rises and falls—the immense strength lying dormant in his muscular, solid limbs.
Your eyes drop to the long, textured braid winding over his shoulder, and you reach for it—curiosity getting the better of you—your apprehension long forgotten.
Jake observes in a patient silence as you slide his kuru through your grip, tilting the end up to reveal the mesmerising pink tendrils.
“Woah,” you marvel. “That’s amazing.”
His chest huffs. You remind him of himself—years ago—discovering his avatar body for the first time, when everything was still new and intriguing. It’s a precious kind of innocence that tugs at his heartstrings—one that’s lost all too soon.
Your captivation falters when you notice the small circles ghosting over your thigh. Jake’s thumb pad.
When did he start doing that?
Your eyes widen, heart picking up a beat—but you feign ignorance, continuing to turn it in your hands, studying with intent.
“So… how does it feel? You know… when you connect it to stuff?”
He glances up, narrowing his eyes with a low hum as he ponders the question.
“Intense.”
The tip of his tail sweeps past you from behind, making you jump—his fingers trailing a long, languid line up your arching spine. “Like a tingling. The connection running deep in through your bones.” His fingertips slide back down to the base of your back, chasing a shudder that racks through you uncontrollably.
He chuckles. “A bit like that.”
You let his kuru fall down, holding his gaze with eyes full of wonder.
“You amaze me, Jake.”
He blinks. Still for a beat as he gazes back at your pretty, doe-eyed face beneath the thin glass of your exo-pack.
“How long can you hold your breath?” He asks suddenly, a challenging smile forming at the corners of his mouth.
“Why?” You give a quiet laugh, brows crinkling in confusion as he reaches out to brush back a stray strand of hair that’s clinging to your mask. “Well, actually—now you mention it, I am quite proud. My personal best was four and a half minutes in RDA training when—“
His hand engulfs your mask—stopping your words in their tracks once again as he unclips it with swift expertise, lifting it from your face before leaning forward and catching your mouth with his.
Everything goes still. Your eyes flutter shut as he steals the salty tasting kiss with lips rougher than you’d imagined. It’s deep, slow and deliberate—the tip of his larger tongue slipping into your mouth to brush against yours—a greeting—before it’s gone again.
He pulls away to reattach your mask, relieving you from the toxic air that’s tailored for his na’vi lungs.
It’s a fleeting moment that has you weakened to the absolute core.
Jake watches you come back, feeling your little heart thrum in your chest, your heavy breath beneath his palm.
“Think you enjoyed that a little too much, sweetheart,” he chuckles quietly. He runs his hand over your chest—the contour of your breasts—checking you. “You alright?”
“Yeah,” you reply, voice a little shaky, eyes crinkling in a smile. “I.. You just have no idea how long I’ve dreamt of that.”
He pulls you in closer, his nose hovering under the line of your jaw. “Hope it didn’t disappoint.”
“Jake, what about the fruit…” you glance sidelong at the abandoned bowl beside you; berries spilled across the floor.
“I wasn’t hungry for that.”
Your chest hitches as he slides a hand beneath your shirt, ruching the material up over your bra before settling back against the wall with an appreciative twitch of his tail.
“Knew I couldn’t trust you,” you murmur, a blotchy flush creeping over your chest under his wolfish gaze.
“C’mon, baby,” his grin is crooked and boyish, eyes untamed as they flick from your face to your chest. “Where’s that little slut that teased me behind the glass, hm? Thought you couldn’t wait to get your hands on me.”
“This is riskier, someone could walk in—“
“Mm, they could.” He leans off the wall, face close to your chest—his warm breath ghosting over a hardening nipple beneath your bra. “But that’s half the fun.”
He envelops your boobs in his hands—enormous and rough, and your head starts spinning—the feeling of them everything you’d dreamed of and more.
“Think I’ve opened a can of worms,” you say, an attempted joke that comes out far too breathily.
He squeezes—lightly—enjoying the little sound that escapes you.
“M’just so horny, baby. Can’t even jerk off. Makes such a mess in here.”
“Jake..” you warn—a futile attempt, your chest puffing up into his hands, betraying you.
He leans down, a slither of pink tongue darting out to brush against the thin material—testing you—the warm, wet sensation igniting a trail of sparks through every nerve of your body.
“Don’t want me to make you feel good?” He murmurs, manipulation slipping from his tongue like honey.
You glance down to where his cock is pressed up like a rod against his jumpsuit—a small, damp pinpoint of glowing pre-cum already seeping through.
It’s enough to snap you faster than you can think.
“Here,” you murmur, fumbling your shirt over your head before unclasping your bra, your boobs springing free as it slides to the floor.
His pupils dilate immediately to drink in every inch of the plump little tits he’d been envisioning ever since you took your top off behind the glass.
“Goddamn, baby… Can I?” he leans forward more, his tail smacking the ground with a dull thump—excitement taking over.
You nod, eagerly. “Please do.”
He takes your boob, dragging a loose, open-mouthed kiss across the plush—his eyes closing at the softness of it—before he captures the nipple, sucking like a hungry hound.
“God, Jake, easy,” you sigh, arching your back off the ridges of his knees as his hands loop around your back, pulling you up closer to him.
His tongue rolls around the nipple with a vibrating groan, flicking over the sensitive tip—his ears perking up at your whimpering, yellow eyes darting up to watch your reaction. “You like that?” He murmurs, grazing his thumb back and forth over the other hard peak.
“Mhm, so fucking much,” you nod wildly, squeezing his biceps through the material of his jumpsuit—huge and solid arms—something sturdy that keeps you grounded as the pleasure pulses through you more rapidly. Something for you to hold onto as you start grinding against your own panties.
You peer down at him, his dark lashes resting like crescent moons against his cheeks—lips moving in a lazy manner, and you realise he’s enjoying every second of this—getting a thrill out of pleasing you, taking his time to turn you on.
And boy, was it.
Your hips shake in little shudders, head rolling back with a blissful groan as you enjoy the sensation of your own soak against your engorged clit.
He pulls away—suddenly—halting your begging hips, leaving you chasing the feeling.
“Think you’re getting way too excited there, princess,” he smirks wryly.
The breath knocks from your lungs as he flips you over by the waist, your front resting against his propped-up knees as he spreads your ass and thighs in front of him like a platter.
“Let’s see what panties we have on today, hm?” He hums as he peels your pants down to your knees—revealing the skimpy, black laced thong buried between your ass cheeks—a cute bow decorating the top—something you’d starting wearing in recent weeks, in case of—well. Just in case.
“Ohh-hoho,” he jeers with a hearty chuckle, his stomach bouncing you. “Is this for me?”
“Shut up,” you groan, flicking his knee—thanking the heavens you’re faced away so he can’t see your cheeks glowing bright pink.
“Cute. I liked the white ones,” he murmurs, sliding his hands up and down your hips, “but this is sexy as fuck.”
He circles your ass cheeks in his grip like putty—squeezing it, pushing it together before pulling it apart—an appreciative groan escaping him at the sight of the damp black string nestled in your tight slit.
“Dirty little slut, ain’tcha? Wearing this to work. Thinkin’ of me.”
You wiggle around like a mewling kitten—completely at his mercy as he teases a slow finger down the length of it.
“Don’t be a brat, now,” he growls, a firm hand holding down your fidgeting leg as he sinks further down the wall, peeling your pants off your legs fully and throwing them to the side before jerking your ass up higher to his face. He leans forward—quickly—nuzzling between your thighs, his eyes closing as he fills his lungs with the teasing scent that’s lingered in the air from the moment you stepped foot in his cell. He holds you steady by your twitching hips, hot breath pouring through the thin line between your pussy and his parted mouth as he inhales you like a suffocated man.
“Arghfuck,” he sighs loudly, his tail thrashing the floor as he pulls himself in further. “That’s so fucking good.”
“Jake!” You squeal, the flat of his nose pushing your thong in deeper with each delve, sending ripples of warmth from your pussy down your legs.
“Let’s get this out the way, shall we? Doin’ neither of us any favours.” He hooks a finger through the black string, pulling it to the side to fully reveal your pussy—crimsoned with arousal—the pink puffy shell-like centre glinting with your slick.
The silence falls heavy as he touches it—two fingers running slow circles around the entrance, his ears flattening at the soft squelch of your wet warmth.
“Jake, mfuck,” you whine, head spinning like a disco ball against his knees.
“So fuckin’ turned on fr’me, aren’t you.” He bites his lip as he explores your slit, gliding a thick thumb pad down the length—landing on your puffy clit and pressing with a calculated pressure that makes your heart skip a beat. “That feel good, hm?”
“Mmm. Need more Jake, please,” you plea in shameful desperation.
“Yeah?” His erection twitches with a begging push against its restraint—but patience calls. He knows he needs your little human pussy loosened up if he’s to fit inside. “What’d you need then, sweetheart?”
“Mm..mouth.”
“Do you now,” he hums.
You’re not sure if it’s his warm breath ghosting over your cunt or his tongue itself. All you know is the sudden electric warmth spilling through you—flooding your body as you tremble with mewls of pleasure in his lap.
The tip of his tongue dips in, curling—scooping out as much of your sweet pussy’s juices as he can in a single swipe, before swallowing it with a loud, relieved sigh.
Stars haze the edges of your vision the moment his tongue finds your clit—licking wide, repetitive drags up and down—switching to quick teasing circles with the tip, your little hysterical noises like music to his ears.
The pleasure builds up in waves—taking you higher—until it becomes a plateau of hot, fuzzy warmth that has your thighs clenching around his face, your climax soon approaching.
“Close?” He asks as if reading your body like it’s a language he already knew.
“Mmmmh,” you mumble.
He pulls away, tongue sweeping over his lips, leaving your pussy throbbing.
Your eyes fling wide with a sharp gasp as two thick fingers greet you—pushing inside, stretching you open in a way you didn’t know you needed.
He explores inside your entrance in shallow circles until finding the sweet, spongey spot he’s looking for. “There she is,” he murmurs.
Your eyes roll back in a groan as he curls his fingers down against your g-spot, dragging against the target with a pressure that has something hot coiling very quickly inside you. A sharp sensation that feels like you need to pee.
“Jake, feels like m’gonna explode.”
“Don’t hold it.” He leans beneath his working fingers to capture your clit in his mouth—pulling it between his lips with a strong suck while his fingers pump quicker, curling harder against that spot of pressure that’s undoing you.
You stiffen as you feel it building—up and up—until you’re tiptoeing on a wobbly tight rope, knuckles white on his knees, about to brink.
Your face scrunches tightly. “I’m—AH—I’m, I’m gonna—“
A final rolling vibration of his tongue against your clit and his fingers digging tightly into the spot of pressure snaps you—sending you spiralling into an explosive, squirting orgasm—delicious hot waves relieving your pussy, every nerve in your body shuddering with pleasure as the tension he’s built up in you releases three-fold.
His throat rumbles deeply as his takes it all from behind—his well-earned gush pouring onto his face, trickling down his forearms—fucking up his jumpsuit once again, but like heck he cares. He drinks it up, lapping your ass and thighs clean— tasting the subtle sweet and salty mix of your cum before dragging a last soft lick over your sensitive pussy.
“Damn, sweetheart,” he chuckles. “You’re quite the squirter.”
You can hear the self-satisfied look plastered all over his face.
“I’m not, usually,” you laugh out of breath. “That was incredible.”
He plants a slow stream of wet kisses up your thighs to your ass, big blue hands sliding up and down your hips. “I can tell by the mess you’ve made of me.”
You lean over your shoulder to take a glance, your cheeks flushing at the sight—his jumpsuit soaked with dark wet patches, his blue skin glistening with your cum as he grins foolishly.
“Shit… sorry,” you giggle.
“Sorry?” His grin turns crooked. “We can make it work to our advantage, don’t you think?”
He unzips the jumpsuit, shedding it from his arms—his darkening eyes trained on yours as he rolls it down lower, past his hips.
His incredible blue cock springs free with a slap against his abs, and you can all but gawk at the sight. The thick, veiny shaft curves upwards from the base of stubbly, dark pubic hair around his groin. It bobs with a gentle rhythmic pulse—the foreskin rolled back fully to reveal the swollen, aroused head—blue pre-cum trickling out of the slit. Your eyes skit up over his chest and arms as you swallow—your stomach flipping as the sheer size and strength of him dawns on you once again.
“Seen something you like, baby?” He taunts, the corners of his mouth quirking up.
You nod weakly, biting your lip. “This…”
You reach back for his cock with an outstretched palm, but he grabs your wrist—pushing you away with a flick, his eyes storming over with a firmness.
“Only when I say you can.”
He’s cruel—making you watch as he takes it in his own hand instead, teasing you— rolling it up and down in his grip, his head lolling back against the wall with a relieved sigh. It doesn’t take long before he simply can’t wait—his knees hitching higher, sliding you further into his lap with a small squeak.
“No more fucking around now, c’mere pretty.”
He pushes his cock down with his thumb, resting it along the entire length of your heat, both of you groaning in unison at the contact.
“Fuck,” he sighs, rolling it up in little jerks as he grips your hips, gliding his cock between your ass cheeks like a slip ’n slide. “You feel amazing, baby.”
Your head rolls forward at the ridged underside of his warm, smooth hardness rubbing against your cunt, building up heat with each drag.
“Put it in Jake, please?” You’re making me lose my damn mind,” you whinge.
His chest is heavy as he takes it in his hand again, pumping a few more times before pushing it back against your clenching hole. “Think you’ve cummed hard enough to fit me in this small cunt, hm?”
“I can handle it,” you moan, grinding against him in frustration.
He drags it up and down—your clear juices mixing with his pre—until he guides it in with his thumb, the head finally pushing inside.
Your sharp whimper clashes with his closed-mouth groan as he slides in inch by inch—two sounds stemming from different sensations.
“Fuck, that’s it,” he moans—his nostrils flaring, eyes falling shut. “Just like that, pretty angel. So fuckin’ tight.”
His grip on your hips becomes bruising as he pushes in more boisterously with growing excitement, until you yelp—a high-pitched warning that stops him in his tracks.
“Too much, sweetheart?” He breathes.
“It’s big,” you chuckle in a fluster. “Just… adjusting.”
You jolt as he reaches under his dick to dust fingers over your mound, rubbing steady circles on your clit that soon has a pleasant warmth replacing the burn.
“Better?”
“Mmh,” you nod with a little sigh, your muscles relaxing, letting his cock sink in further.
His tail flicks up to curl around your thigh as he pulls you back to lie flush against him—giving him better access—one hand covering your clit, the other snaking around your throat in loose, subtle dominance.
“I’ve got you,” he coos from above your ear in a whisper, his breath ticklish.
“Go deeper, Jake,” you shudder—craving more—sinking your nails into the flesh of his forearm as you lean back against him.
The pain is a pleasurable drug that has you hooked—your pussy stretching open for him like a flower until he’s in almost to the hilt, pressing tightly against your cervix.
Your walls give an involuntary squeeze around him, sending a strong pulse traveling from the base of his cock to the tip that you both feel.
“Fuck, good girl,” he whispers, his fangs grazing your ear. “Making me so damn proud, princess. Feels good, doesn’t it?”
The sex isn’t brash. Not to begin with. Both of you moving slowly, absorbing every sensation—the air of the cell falling heavy with the hushed sounds of deep breathing and whispered moans.
Your fingers tangle in his thick dreads, back arching up in delight as he kisses and nips at the sweet spot on your neck—one hand running down to fondle your breasts while the other works ceaseless circles over your clit.
“Feels so good, Jake,” you whimper, rolling your hips faster against his with growing pleasure—his dick slipping in and out quicker now, easier with your building slick—the sound of moist skin slapping softly.
“Yeah?” He bites down on your shoulder before trailing a wet tongue up your neck, sending a ferocious shiver through you. “Gonna cum for me again?”
“Mmm, yeah,” you cry.
“All over my cock, just like you’ve always wanted?”
His dirty talk has you bouncing quicker and he adjusts to match your pace, one hand splaying out on the floor to hold him up as he ruts up into you, the other arm holding you in place while his fingers pick up to rapid flicks over your pulsing bud.
“Thassit baby, ride me how you need.”
“Mmfuck!” You wail louder, verging quickly.
He grabs your hand, guiding it over your belly under his, both feeling his cock bulging in and out beneath your skin. “Feel that? Feel me buried inside you?”
You glance down at it in fascination—your face scrunching up—thighs clenching and squeezing together as your climax fast approaches. Jake moves to the side, his cock hitting a sweet spot that has you gasping, legs shaking.
“Right there, baby?” He pants, holding that spot as he thrusts into you harder—faster—clamping your waist down as he fucks you into your orgasm, sliding two fingers either side of your clit—trapping it—rolling the hood back and forth.
You cum—screaming silently, head thrown back against his shoulder as your pussy explodes with throbs of white-hot pleasure around his dick, your heart racing against his chest.
Jake feels every sensation—your tight cunt clenching around his cock with your orgasm, trying to milk him dry—and it damn near enough works.
His head falls back against the wall as he stifles a groan between tight lips, his eyes clenched shut. It’s all he can do to stop himself from cumming—his cock throbbing on the edge of release inside you—but he holds it with a concentrated thrash of his tail.
Don’t you dare, Jake.
He always had been a self-torture sucker with an edging kink. He thrived on the control.
“My God,” you groan, writhing lazily in his arms with his rock-hard dick still firmly buried inside you. “I’ve never felt this goo—”
“We ain’t done yet, pretty.”
You barely have time to recover as he’s shifting onto his knees, carrying you against him in a shuffle to the floor-to-ceiling glass before plopping you down on all fours in front of it.
“Remember this old friend?” he smirks.
You bite your grin. “How could I forget.”
He clicks his tongue with a tilt of his chin. “Hands. On the glass.”
The surface is stone cold as you reach out to splay your palms against it, watching in the reflection as he positions himself behind you, spreading your thighs apart with his knee.
You gasp as he yanks your thong down to your knees before grabbing your hips and lining his cock up with your entrance. You nearly choke on your own tongue as he thrusts into you with no hesitation—his ears flat to his head as his hands clamp tightly around your waist, claiming you.
“Sucha good pussy,” he sighs, his stimulated cock twitching with relief to be buried back inside the tight warmth where it belongs.
The scent of sweat and sex hangs in the stuffy air of the cell as he fucks you—hard—the way he needs, sweat trickling down his temple—the sound of his balls slapping against you over and over in a quick rhythm—your white, gummy slick pooling around the base of his cock as it punches in and out of you.
“C’mon—baby,” he breathes, voice tight with effort. “Wanna make that pussy pop once more.”
You pant—head hanging between your arms, your frame becoming limp and weary as you hold onto the glass with weak hands. You feel him deep against your womb, the pressure held inside you, but your climax hovers behind a wall you can’t quite climb with your level of exhaustion.
“Can’t,” you sigh in defeat, head flopping further. “M’too tired.”
“Hey. Look at me.”
It’s a growl that has your eyes snapping up to his reflection in the glass.
You watch him—his sweat-slicked arm and shoulder muscles rippling under the down-lighting of the cell as he tugs at your hips over and over, his abs clenching as he ruts into you—sharp teeth bared.
It’s a sight that has your heat building up again in a way you didn’t think possible.
His eyes are heavily engulfed with the black of his pupils as he watches your reflection in the glass too—your palms splayed against it—swollen, heavy tits bouncing, your mouth hanging open with a trickle of drool down your chin as you take a cock too big for you from behind.
He falls forward with both hands on the glass, trapping you between it as a groan escapes him through gritted teeth. “God, needa cum.” His cock twitches wildly, his thrusts faltering. “C’mon, baby, cum fr me. You can do it.”
“Don’t stop, Jake,” you gasp weakly, brows knitted together in concentration, the pulsing of his edging dick sending waves of heat through you, “I’m almost… there—”
Jake—with the stamina of a God—plummets into you with the last of the strength he has left, picking up his pace to a feral shag—reaching down to fumble desperately with your clit. His balls tighten, cock twitching with one last heavy pulse that starts to snap the rope deep in his groin.
The home run.
“What’s my name?” He demands of you with all the authority you’d expect from a title like Toruk Makto.
“J-Jake…”
“Louder.”
He pulls your hair back in a fist, jerking your head up to look at him—his other hand crawling tightly around your throat as he makes you whine his name pathetically—each syllable coming out as a choppy choke with every slamming thrust.
“J-a-ah-ak-e!!”
It’s the last push you need.
You cum, quickly—finally—choking for air under his tight grip on your throat as white stars blur the edges of your vision. Your knees buckle under the weight of him—each shudder and raw cry racking through your exhausted little ribs until you melt in his grasp.
“Fuck—“ he pulls out, tapping your thigh with urgency. “Turn round baby—quick, gonna cum.”
His tone spins you into action and crawl around on your knees to face him.
“Deep breath.” He unclips your exo-pack with a shaky hand, the other clenched tightly around his cock as he guides it to your mouth.
You catch the tip just in time as it starts throbbing out the first spurts of his hot, salty load onto your tongue.
“Oh fuck, open that pretty mouth ’n take it all,” he gasps—gripping the back of your head roughly as he pulls your mouth further down his cock, his hips jutting forward in trembling thrusts as he unloads.
You try not to choke, gripping the shaft between both hands as it throbs with strong orgasmic pulses—sending wave after wave of his thick cum down your throat.
“Mmmff,” you muffle through a gag as you gulp back each salty wave, gawping up at him with watery lashes and mascara-stained cheeks.
“Swallowin’ like my good lil slut, huh, sucha good girl takin’ all my cum like that, t’s so fuckin’ hot babydoll,” he babbles, drunkenly—his words becoming slurred and thick in accent as he drags an index finger across your jaw, gazing down with heavy-lidded eyes at the sight of your small, soft lips wrapped around his cock.
Your chest spasms as you swallow the last of it—but you never leave his eyes. Sucking his cock-head dry, a mix of sex and salt coating your tongue as you lick over the sensitive slit. He squirms and collapses over you—his palm hitting the glass, the other landing on the small of your back.
“Fuck. Good job, baby,” he pants, swiftly pulling your body up to his chest as he falls back onto his haunches and re-attaches your mask.
“Breathe.”
You gasp in, flooding your starved lungs with oxygen as Jake presses soothing coos and kisses into your neck, his arms cocooning you.
You hold onto his shoulders as your breath returns, your ruddy cheeks lighting up with a toothy, idiotic grin.
“Holy shit. Thanks for the heads up on the tsunami.”
He chuckles with flattening ears. “Sorry, cupcake. Didn’t wanna make a mess.” His fingers dust your hair back from your mask. “Knew you had it in you.” His eyes flick over you—inspecting—before he cups your chin. “Open your mouth.”
You do as he says—opening with a raised brow, wondering why he looks like he’s found something extremely amusing in there.
“What is it?”
“Look.”
You turn your head to your reflection in the glass, your eyes widening in horror as you see your tongue stained with a luminous blue glow. It looks like you’ve eaten sour sweets—something between toxic waste and a blue slushie.
“Jesus, Jake! How long is that going to be there?” You swipe at it to no avail, the colour not shifting.
He tilts his head back and forth. “Give it a week.”
“A week?!”
His shoulders bob with a low laugh. “Nah, just fooling. Sure it’ll be gone in a day or two.” His tone isn’t certain. “At least you can think of me every time you look in the mirror,” he smirks, nuzzling against your shoulder.
You shake your head—unamused—but your lips can’t help but curve into a soft grin. Your eyes close as you slump into him with a small yawn—exhaustion quickly catching up.
“Hey, you better get going,” he mumbles, peeling you off him you as your tired, pouting face tries to follow. “Can’t have you falling asleep in here.”
“But you’re so warm and nice,” you moan. “Wanna sleep on you.”
He huffs—softly—his eyes crinkling at the edges.
“You’re cute. But you gotta get dressed. C’mon, now.”
He plops you down on the floor before standing and zipping up his jumpsuit. You glance up in awe as he towers above you before your knees tremble, threatening to buckle beneath you.
Jake’s quick to lean down, shooting a hand out for you to grab onto.
“Woah, steady there,” he chuckles, watching you wobble like a deer on ice as you try hold yourself up.
“Safe to say you’ve fucked me senseless,” you giggle. “I’m good, I’ve got it.”
You sway diagonally as you pull your pants up, staggering to where your shirt lies in a heap on the floor before picking it up and tossing it over your head. You check yourself in the reflection of the glass—smoothing your hair, sticking your tongue out and scrunching your nose at the stain—before turning to where Jake’s already flopped down on the floor with his legs crossed, an arm propped up behind his head.
He’s watching you, something deep and satisfied softening his sharp yellow eyes.
“Don’t forget your fruit,” you smirk.
He glances beside him at the untouched fruit, picking a scarlet berry from the bowl and popping it in his mouth with leisure as he holds your eyes, the tip of his tail giving a subtle sway next to him. “Mm. Tastes good.”
You tap at the sides of your thighs as you watch, suddenly feeling hot and awkward under his intense gaze.
“Good… well, guess I err… should go.”
“Guess you should.”
You clear your throat. “If you ever want to…”
He quirks an eyebrow.
“...Eat fruit again…” your cheeks flush the colour of the berries.
The chuckle bubbles in his throat. “Depends what you bring.”
“Whatever you want.”
He turns a berry in his fingers. “Doesn’t taste as sweet as you.”
Your heart skips a beat.
His smirk slides into your stomach. “Go on, get out. Starting to look like you want another round. Gimme a couple moments, at least.”
“Don’t tempt me,” you chuckle in a titter, swaying back and forth on your feet.
A pause. The air thick.
“Right, well… I’ll be going,” you say, clapping your hand on your thigh before turning on light, feeble legs.
“Forgetting something?”
You glance back over your shoulder.
He’s holding your lanyard up between his fingers.
The lanyard with your key card in.
He couldn’t get out without knowing the code, but your heart still starts to race. How did he…?
You stride over, snatching it from his hand as you glare him down, his ears twitching back and forth in amusement. Dangerous play in his eyes.
“Just because you fuck like a God doesn’t mean you can mess with me,” you remark, tilting your head up defiantly.
His smirk curls further—a lazy, amused lift.
“I fuck like a God, huh?”
Your lips press into a line, eyes narrowing. “It’s not an excuse, Jake.”
“You know how adorable you are when you’re pissed? Needa remind me to annoy you more often.”
The hint of a wry smirk flickers across your face.
“Fine.” You saunter the last steps to the door, emphasising the sway of your hips—the one that gets him hot around the collar.
“But the more I stay pissed?”
His ears perk up.
“The less you get to see these.”
You don’t need to gesture to your tits for him to know what you’re talking about.
He hisses out a throaty laugh. “Alright, sweetheart. You win.”
You grin. “See you tomorrow night, Jake.”
The door seals closed behind you with a thump.
He exhales in satisfaction as he settles back on both arms, eyelids getting heavy, sleep starting to creep over him.
Being held captive wasn’t half as bad with his little prison play thing.
Hello, your fic was the first fic I’ve ever read, I can’t wait for your next one! There’s no writing like yours, I’m wondering if you could give some recommendations as I’m pretty sure you must have impeccable taste ✨ thank you so much 💞
firstly, thank you so much for the kind words!! im honored to be your first read :D
most of my fic recs will be on my other blog, ddogsreblogs, so that this blog is more organized; however, i've been neglecting reblogging on there so expect more recs there in the future once i have some freetime lol. that being said, here's some of my all time fav jake x reader fics!!
fantasize & all the time (if you were mine) by @jeanbie - this series had me in a chokehold for WEEKS... every day i get on my knees and pray for pt 3
baby you're my lullaby by @/jeanbie - also LOVE this fic it's so so cute!!
nothing in me that doesn't reach for you by @flowersforjude
obsessed pt 1 & pt 2 by @fireflynavi - i <3 prison jake!!
what it means to be brave by @l-auteur-fleur
times like these & marine's lament, hometree's melody by @/l-auteur-fleur - looove the way jake is written + the attention to detail!!
sex education pt 1 & pt 2 by @makoodles - the first jake fic i ever read!! it changed something deep in my brain chemistry
technical difficulties & daddy issues by @/makoodles - also some of my quaritch favs!!
cheater, cheater pumpkin eater by @lolli-apop - so sad but such an insightful read on awow!jake's character!
unrequited love with jake pt 1 & pt 2 by @vaniellea - another sad one :( but pt 2 has some comfort!! <3
counting down by @sunmoonsweets
all of you by @lovemyavatar
sun lily by @newtkive
i also really love all of @/newtkive's jake drabbles!!
Jake Sully x Female Human Reader
Word count | 6.5k
Content | 18+, explicit smut, oral sex, p in v, dom Jake, size kink, dilf kink without the word daddy, bratty reader, bioluminescent cum
Read part 1 here
You and Jake get more formally acquainted in his prison cell
“-and she had the audacity to tell Katie what I said, I mean—“ you huff a laugh, waving your mug of coffee in the air—spilling some down your RDA shirt. “Shit.” You lick your thumb and rub at it. “Can you believe that?”
“Mhm,” Jake murmurs, lying on his back with his eyes closed—half-listening as you babble on, killing him softly with your petty work-life drama.
You’d returned with a vengeance since your little escapade, making yourself quite comfortable outside his cell during your shifts—the nights becoming a blur of chat, coffee and everything in between.
Jake’s attitude had mellowed as much as he’d hate to admit that, growing used to your soft voice blanketing the edges of his thoughts. He’d go as far to say he liked it—even. It kept him company in the silence of the prison at night. He enjoyed watching you lose yourself in your words—your little lips rambling—the way your lashes rested on your freckled cheeks when you looked down and giggled.
But on nights like this?
You bored him into the ground with your incessant, brattish small talk.
“—I told him that wasn’t an option, so of course Anna had to go and put her foot in and-“
“You know what?”
His deep voice breaks you off mid-sentence—your mouth hanging open as he slowly rolls his head over to look at you.
“What?”
“I’m starving.”
He breaks into a dramatic yawn—something grand and cat-like, his ears pinned back as the length of him stretches out with arms overhead—pearly fangs flashing—before rolling up to a lazy sit.
“But you just ate half an hour ago,” you laugh, tilting your head.
“That? Come on, that was an appetiser. What, you feeding me human sized portions now?” He smirks, tilting his head back at you, his dreads swaying forward. “I need a lotta sustenance, if you hadn’t noticed.”
There’s a glint in his eyes—the signature one you’d come to recognise when he was in the mood to play games with you.
You fold your arms over your chest, eyes narrowing. “You’re up to something.”
“What? Pfft,” he chuckles, throwing his hands up. “Guilty for asking for a little food, now?”
“You need to lay off, you’re getting a little podgy,” you grin, eyeing the outline of his stomach beneath his jumpsuit.
He crawls to a crouch beside the glass, forearms resting over his knees.
“New lipstick, isn’t it?”
Your bottom lip twitches as his gaze lingers on your mouth—your hand coming up subconsciously from your folded arms.
“Yeah… why?”
His eyes twinkle as they flick back up to yours. “Knew there was a reason you looked so damn pretty today.”
It was a talent, how easily he could make you blush like a stupid school girl.
“Alright. Fine,” you smirk, defeated. You stand, gathering your mug as you turn to fetch him something.
“Wait.”
His voice swivels you back.
“Bring it through yourself, this time? Not the hatch.”
Your eyes fly wide. “In your cell? Jake, I’m not supposed to—“
“Come on,” he chuckles, tail sweeping playfully across the floor behind him. “I won’t bite. Thought you were a sucker for breaking the rules. Besides, all this acquainting?” his roguish grin ties a knot in your stomach. “Think it’s about time we had a more formal meeting, wouldn’t you say?”
Your throat bobs in apprehension.
What was he thinking?
Was it innocent?
Jake?
With that grin on his face?
Absolutely not.
Did it excite you?
Absolutely.
“Fine,” you reply, tilting your chin up as you shake yourself from your thoughts. “But for the love of God… please eat the snacks, not me.”
-
It doesn’t take you long to snake your way back from the staff kitchen equipped with a bowl of fruit—through the maze of grey corridors, to the observation room, through the airlock, to the thick metal door of his cell.
You hesitate, hand hovering over the key pad, your exo-pack clinging too tightly to your face as you take a deep breath—an attempt to calm your racing heart.
It’s just Jake.
No big deal.
Steeling yourself, you punch in the code—a sharp hiss of air spilling through the sliding door and you step in, quickly—letting it slide closed behind you, the bowl balanced precariously in your hand.
It’s eerily quiet other than the rhythmic thrum of distant machinery as you peel your eyes over to where he’s sat against the wall—his usual spot—long legs spread out in front of him, hands resting loosely in his lap—the only sign of movement the small, twitching sway of the end of his tail.
His eyes are fixated on you like two solemn, yellow orbs.
You stare back—wide-eyed and frozen to the spot.
Seeing him numerous times behind screens and glass was different. With no barrier between you, there’s a charge in the air that you weren’t prepared for—an energy you can’t place. You can smell him—a natural musk of body odour—something wild, and a little salty.
It makes you wonder if he tastes like he smells. Would his skin be rough under your tongue, or soft?
His deep voice breaks the silence, making you jump—a slow grin cracking across his face.
“What you standing over there all shy for, hm?” He beckons you over with a hand. “C’mere, wanna see what you’ve brought me.”
You inch your way over—bowl held loosely in your hand—until you’re stood eye-level before him.
His eyes fall to the bowl, a dark eyebrow quirking. “Fruit?”
“You need the diet.”
He chuckles, a sound that vibrates your entire body. “Rude. Here, set it down.” He gestures beside him with a soft, charming smile.
You bend down, leaning forward to place it—falling for his trap as easily as a rabbit to the snare as he catches your wrist, pulling with a slight tug that might be playful if there wasn’t such an effortless strength behind it.
The bowl clatters to the floor, a couple of berries rolling away.
“Jake! What’re you—“
“Sit on my lap?”
His question is late as you’re already sliding into the crook of his legs with a squeal—his knees coming up behind you, propping you up like an easel.
“For God’s sake, knew I couldn’t trust yo—“
The cat gets your tongue once you’re eye to eye with him, just inches from his face.
Breathtaking doesn’t do him justice—not this close.
Everything about him is magnificent. Every feature monumental in size.
Silver freckles dance across his face like little stars—huge, sharp feline eyes flickering with jets of gold, his striped, indigo skin glowing even under the most unforgiving light of the prison cell. You feel the sheer power of his lungs beneath you as his stomach softly rises and falls—the immense strength lying dormant in his muscular, solid limbs.
Your eyes drop to the long, textured braid winding over his shoulder, and you reach for it—curiosity getting the better of you—your apprehension long forgotten.
Jake observes in a patient silence as you slide his kuru through your grip, tilting the end up to reveal the mesmerising pink tendrils.
“Woah,” you marvel. “That’s amazing.”
His chest huffs. You remind him of himself—years ago—discovering his avatar body for the first time, when everything was still new and intriguing. It’s a precious kind of innocence that tugs at his heartstrings—one that’s lost all too soon.
Your captivation falters when you notice the small circles ghosting over your thigh. Jake’s thumb pad.
When did he start doing that?
Your eyes widen, heart picking up a beat—but you feign ignorance, continuing to turn it in your hands, studying with intent.
“So… how does it feel? You know… when you connect it to stuff?”
He glances up, narrowing his eyes with a low hum as he ponders the question.
“Intense.”
The tip of his tail sweeps past you from behind, making you jump—his fingers trailing a long, languid line up your arching spine. “Like a tingling. The connection running deep in through your bones.” His fingertips slide back down to the base of your back, chasing a shudder that racks through you uncontrollably.
He chuckles. “A bit like that.”
You let his kuru fall down, holding his gaze with eyes full of wonder.
“You amaze me, Jake.”
He blinks. Still for a beat as he gazes back at your pretty, doe-eyed face beneath the thin glass of your exo-pack.
“How long can you hold your breath?” He asks suddenly, a challenging smile forming at the corners of his mouth.
“Why?” You give a quiet laugh, brows crinkling in confusion as he reaches out to brush back a stray strand of hair that’s clinging to your mask. “Well, actually—now you mention it, I am quite proud. My personal best was four and a half minutes in RDA training when—“
His hand engulfs your mask—stopping your words in their tracks once again as he unclips it with swift expertise, lifting it from your face before leaning forward and catching your mouth with his.
Everything goes still. Your eyes flutter shut as he steals the salty tasting kiss with lips rougher than you’d imagined. It’s deep, slow and deliberate—the tip of his larger tongue slipping into your mouth to brush against yours—a greeting—before it’s gone again.
He pulls away to reattach your mask, relieving you from the toxic air that’s tailored for his na’vi lungs.
It’s a fleeting moment that has you weakened to the absolute core.
Jake watches you come back, feeling your little heart thrum in your chest, your heavy breath beneath his palm.
“Think you enjoyed that a little too much, sweetheart,” he chuckles quietly. He runs his hand over your chest—the contour of your breasts—checking you. “You alright?”
“Yeah,” you reply, voice a little shaky, eyes crinkling in a smile. “I.. You just have no idea how long I’ve dreamt of that.”
He pulls you in closer, his nose hovering under the line of your jaw. “Hope it didn’t disappoint.”
“Jake, what about the fruit…” you glance sidelong at the abandoned bowl beside you; berries spilled across the floor.
“I wasn’t hungry for that.”
Your chest hitches as he slides a hand beneath your shirt, ruching the material up over your bra before settling back against the wall with an appreciative twitch of his tail.
“Knew I couldn’t trust you,” you murmur, a blotchy flush creeping over your chest under his wolfish gaze.
“C’mon, baby,” his grin is crooked and boyish, eyes untamed as they flick from your face to your chest. “Where’s that little slut that teased me behind the glass, hm? Thought you couldn’t wait to get your hands on me.”
“This is riskier, someone could walk in—“
“Mm, they could.” He leans off the wall, face close to your chest—his warm breath ghosting over a hardening nipple beneath your bra. “But that’s half the fun.”
He envelops your boobs in his hands—enormous and rough, and your head starts spinning—the feeling of them everything you’d dreamed of and more.
“Think I’ve opened a can of worms,” you say, an attempted joke that comes out far too breathily.
He squeezes—lightly—enjoying the little sound that escapes you.
“M’just so horny, baby. Can’t even jerk off. Makes such a mess in here.”
“Jake..” you warn—a futile attempt, your chest puffing up into his hands, betraying you.
He leans down, a slither of pink tongue darting out to brush against the thin material—testing you—the warm, wet sensation igniting a trail of sparks through every nerve of your body.
“Don’t want me to make you feel good?” He murmurs, manipulation slipping from his tongue like honey.
You glance down to where his cock is pressed up like a rod against his jumpsuit—a small, damp pinpoint of glowing pre-cum already seeping through.
It’s enough to snap you faster than you can think.
“Here,” you murmur, fumbling your shirt over your head before unclasping your bra, your boobs springing free as it slides to the floor.
His pupils dilate immediately to drink in every inch of the plump little tits he’d been envisioning ever since you took your top off behind the glass.
“Goddamn, baby… Can I?” he leans forward more, his tail smacking the ground with a dull thump—excitement taking over.
You nod, eagerly. “Please do.”
He takes your boob, dragging a loose, open-mouthed kiss across the plush—his eyes closing at the softness of it—before he captures the nipple, sucking like a hungry hound.
“God, Jake, easy,” you sigh, arching your back off the ridges of his knees as his hands loop around your back, pulling you up closer to him.
His tongue rolls around the nipple with a vibrating groan, flicking over the sensitive tip—his ears perking up at your whimpering, yellow eyes darting up to watch your reaction. “You like that?” He murmurs, grazing his thumb back and forth over the other hard peak.
“Mhm, so fucking much,” you nod wildly, squeezing his biceps through the material of his jumpsuit—huge and solid arms—something sturdy that keeps you grounded as the pleasure pulses through you more rapidly. Something for you to hold onto as you start grinding against your own panties.
You peer down at him, his dark lashes resting like crescent moons against his cheeks—lips moving in a lazy manner, and you realise he’s enjoying every second of this—getting a thrill out of pleasing you, taking his time to turn you on.
And boy, was it.
Your hips shake in little shudders, head rolling back with a blissful groan as you enjoy the sensation of your own soak against your engorged clit.
He pulls away—suddenly—halting your begging hips, leaving you chasing the feeling.
“Think you’re getting way too excited there, princess,” he smirks wryly.
The breath knocks from your lungs as he flips you over by the waist, your front resting against his propped-up knees as he spreads your ass and thighs in front of him like a platter.
“Let’s see what panties we have on today, hm?” He hums as he peels your pants down to your knees—revealing the skimpy, black laced thong buried between your ass cheeks—a cute bow decorating the top—something you’d starting wearing in recent weeks, in case of—well. Just in case.
“Ohh-hoho,” he jeers with a hearty chuckle, his stomach bouncing you. “Is this for me?”
“Shut up,” you groan, flicking his knee—thanking the heavens you’re faced away so he can’t see your cheeks glowing bright pink.
“Cute. I liked the white ones,” he murmurs, sliding his hands up and down your hips, “but this is sexy as fuck.”
He circles your ass cheeks in his grip like putty—squeezing it, pushing it together before pulling it apart—an appreciative groan escaping him at the sight of the damp black string nestled in your tight slit.
“Dirty little slut, ain’tcha? Wearing this to work. Thinkin’ of me.”
You wiggle around like a mewling kitten—completely at his mercy as he teases a slow finger down the length of it.
“Don’t be a brat, now,” he growls, a firm hand holding down your fidgeting leg as he sinks further down the wall, peeling your pants off your legs fully and throwing them to the side before jerking your ass up higher to his face. He leans forward—quickly—nuzzling between your thighs, his eyes closing as he fills his lungs with the teasing scent that’s lingered in the air from the moment you stepped foot in his cell. He holds you steady by your twitching hips, hot breath pouring through the thin line between your pussy and his parted mouth as he inhales you like a suffocated man.
“Arghfuck,” he sighs loudly, his tail thrashing the floor as he pulls himself in further. “That’s so fucking good.”
“Jake!” You squeal, the flat of his nose pushing your thong in deeper with each delve, sending ripples of warmth from your pussy down your legs.
“Let’s get this out the way, shall we? Doin’ neither of us any favours.” He hooks a finger through the black string, pulling it to the side to fully reveal your pussy—crimsoned with arousal—the pink puffy shell-like centre glinting with your slick.
The silence falls heavy as he touches it—two fingers running slow circles around the entrance, his ears flattening at the soft squelch of your wet warmth.
“Jake, mfuck,” you whine, head spinning like a disco ball against his knees.
“So fuckin’ turned on fr’me, aren’t you.” He bites his lip as he explores your slit, gliding a thick thumb pad down the length—landing on your puffy clit and pressing with a calculated pressure that makes your heart skip a beat. “That feel good, hm?”
“Mmm. Need more Jake, please,” you plea in shameful desperation.
“Yeah?” His erection twitches with a begging push against its restraint—but patience calls. He knows he needs your little human pussy loosened up if he’s to fit inside. “What’d you need then, sweetheart?”
“Mm..mouth.”
“Do you now,” he hums.
You’re not sure if it’s his warm breath ghosting over your cunt or his tongue itself. All you know is the sudden electric warmth spilling through you—flooding your body as you tremble with mewls of pleasure in his lap.
The tip of his tongue dips in, curling—scooping out as much of your sweet pussy’s juices as he can in a single swipe, before swallowing it with a loud, relieved sigh.
Stars haze the edges of your vision the moment his tongue finds your clit—licking wide, repetitive drags up and down—switching to quick teasing circles with the tip, your little hysterical noises like music to his ears.
The pleasure builds up in waves—taking you higher—until it becomes a plateau of hot, fuzzy warmth that has your thighs clenching around his face, your climax soon approaching.
“Close?” He asks as if reading your body like it’s a language he already knew.
“Mmmmh,” you mumble.
He pulls away, tongue sweeping over his lips, leaving your pussy throbbing.
Your eyes fling wide with a sharp gasp as two thick fingers greet you—pushing inside, stretching you open in a way you didn’t know you needed.
He explores inside your entrance in shallow circles until finding the sweet, spongey spot he’s looking for. “There she is,” he murmurs.
Your eyes roll back in a groan as he curls his fingers down against your g-spot, dragging against the target with a pressure that has something hot coiling very quickly inside you. A sharp sensation that feels like you need to pee.
“Jake, feels like m’gonna explode.”
“Don’t hold it.” He leans beneath his working fingers to capture your clit in his mouth—pulling it between his lips with a strong suck while his fingers pump quicker, curling harder against that spot of pressure that’s undoing you.
You stiffen as you feel it building—up and up—until you’re tiptoeing on a wobbly tight rope, knuckles white on his knees, about to brink.
Your face scrunches tightly. “I’m—AH—I’m, I’m gonna—“
A final rolling vibration of his tongue against your clit and his fingers digging tightly into the spot of pressure snaps you—sending you spiralling into an explosive, squirting orgasm—delicious hot waves relieving your pussy, every nerve in your body shuddering with pleasure as the tension he’s built up in you releases three-fold.
His throat rumbles deeply as his takes it all from behind—his well-earned gush pouring onto his face, trickling down his forearms—fucking up his jumpsuit once again, but like heck he cares. He drinks it up, lapping your ass and thighs clean— tasting the subtle sweet and salty mix of your cum before dragging a last soft lick over your sensitive pussy.
“Damn, sweetheart,” he chuckles. “You’re quite the squirter.”
You can hear the self-satisfied look plastered all over his face.
“I’m not, usually,” you laugh out of breath. “That was incredible.”
He plants a slow stream of wet kisses up your thighs to your ass, big blue hands sliding up and down your hips. “I can tell by the mess you’ve made of me.”
You lean over your shoulder to take a glance, your cheeks flushing at the sight—his jumpsuit soaked with dark wet patches, his blue skin glistening with your cum as he grins foolishly.
“Shit… sorry,” you giggle.
“Sorry?” His grin turns crooked. “We can make it work to our advantage, don’t you think?”
He unzips the jumpsuit, shedding it from his arms—his darkening eyes trained on yours as he rolls it down lower, past his hips.
His incredible blue cock springs free with a slap against his abs, and you can all but gawk at the sight. The thick, veiny shaft curves upwards from the base of stubbly, dark pubic hair around his groin. It bobs with a gentle rhythmic pulse—the foreskin rolled back fully to reveal the swollen, aroused head—blue pre-cum trickling out of the slit. Your eyes skit up over his chest and arms as you swallow—your stomach flipping as the sheer size and strength of him dawns on you once again.
“Seen something you like, baby?” He taunts, the corners of his mouth quirking up.
You nod weakly, biting your lip. “This…”
You reach back for his cock with an outstretched palm, but he grabs your wrist—pushing you away with a flick, his eyes storming over with a firmness.
“Only when I say you can.”
He’s cruel—making you watch as he takes it in his own hand instead, teasing you— rolling it up and down in his grip, his head lolling back against the wall with a relieved sigh. It doesn’t take long before he simply can’t wait—his knees hitching higher, sliding you further into his lap with a small squeak.
“No more fucking around now, c’mere pretty.”
He pushes his cock down with his thumb, resting it along the entire length of your heat, both of you groaning in unison at the contact.
“Fuck,” he sighs, rolling it up in little jerks as he grips your hips, gliding his cock between your ass cheeks like a slip ’n slide. “You feel amazing, baby.”
Your head rolls forward at the ridged underside of his warm, smooth hardness rubbing against your cunt, building up heat with each drag.
“Put it in Jake, please?” You’re making me lose my damn mind,” you whinge.
His chest is heavy as he takes it in his hand again, pumping a few more times before pushing it back against your clenching hole. “Think you’ve cummed hard enough to fit me in this small cunt, hm?”
“I can handle it,” you moan, grinding against him in frustration.
He drags it up and down—your clear juices mixing with his pre—until he guides it in with his thumb, the head finally pushing inside.
Your sharp whimper clashes with his closed-mouth groan as he slides in inch by inch—two sounds stemming from different sensations.
“Fuck, that’s it,” he moans—his nostrils flaring, eyes falling shut. “Just like that, pretty angel. So fuckin’ tight.”
His grip on your hips becomes bruising as he pushes in more boisterously with growing excitement, until you yelp—a high-pitched warning that stops him in his tracks.
“Too much, sweetheart?” He breathes.
“It’s big,” you chuckle in a fluster. “Just… adjusting.”
You jolt as he reaches under his dick to dust fingers over your mound, rubbing steady circles on your clit that soon has a pleasant warmth replacing the burn.
“Better?”
“Mmh,” you nod with a little sigh, your muscles relaxing, letting his cock sink in further.
His tail flicks up to curl around your thigh as he pulls you back to lie flush against him—giving him better access—one hand covering your clit, the other snaking around your throat in loose, subtle dominance.
“I’ve got you,” he coos from above your ear in a whisper, his breath ticklish.
“Go deeper, Jake,” you shudder—craving more—sinking your nails into the flesh of his forearm as you lean back against him.
The pain is a pleasurable drug that has you hooked—your pussy stretching open for him like a flower until he’s in almost to the hilt, pressing tightly against your cervix.
Your walls give an involuntary squeeze around him, sending a strong pulse traveling from the base of his cock to the tip that you both feel.
“Fuck, good girl,” he whispers, his fangs grazing your ear. “Making me so damn proud, princess. Feels good, doesn’t it?”
The sex isn’t brash. Not to begin with. Both of you moving slowly, absorbing every sensation—the air of the cell falling heavy with the hushed sounds of deep breathing and whispered moans.
Your fingers tangle in his thick dreads, back arching up in delight as he kisses and nips at the sweet spot on your neck—one hand running down to fondle your breasts while the other works ceaseless circles over your clit.
“Feels so good, Jake,” you whimper, rolling your hips faster against his with growing pleasure—his dick slipping in and out quicker now, easier with your building slick—the sound of moist skin slapping softly.
“Yeah?” He bites down on your shoulder before trailing a wet tongue up your neck, sending a ferocious shiver through you. “Gonna cum for me again?”
“Mmm, yeah,” you cry.
“All over my cock, just like you’ve always wanted?”
His dirty talk has you bouncing quicker and he adjusts to match your pace, one hand splaying out on the floor to hold him up as he ruts up into you, the other arm holding you in place while his fingers pick up to rapid flicks over your pulsing bud.
“Thassit baby, ride me how you need.”
“Mmfuck!” You wail louder, verging quickly.
He grabs your hand, guiding it over your belly under his, both feeling his cock bulging in and out beneath your skin. “Feel that? Feel me buried inside you?”
You glance down at it in fascination—your face scrunching up—thighs clenching and squeezing together as your climax fast approaches. Jake moves to the side, his cock hitting a sweet spot that has you gasping, legs shaking.
“Right there, baby?” He pants, holding that spot as he thrusts into you harder—faster—clamping your waist down as he fucks you into your orgasm, sliding two fingers either side of your clit—trapping it—rolling the hood back and forth.
You cum—screaming silently, head thrown back against his shoulder as your pussy explodes with throbs of white-hot pleasure around his dick, your heart racing against his chest.
Jake feels every sensation—your tight cunt clenching around his cock with your orgasm, trying to milk him dry—and it damn near enough works.
His head falls back against the wall as he stifles a groan between tight lips, his eyes clenched shut. It’s all he can do to stop himself from cumming—his cock throbbing on the edge of release inside you—but he holds it with a concentrated thrash of his tail.
Don’t you dare, Jake.
He always had been a self-torture sucker with an edging kink. He thrived on the control.
“My God,” you groan, writhing lazily in his arms with his rock-hard dick still firmly buried inside you. “I’ve never felt this goo—”
“We ain’t done yet, pretty.”
You barely have time to recover as he’s shifting onto his knees, carrying you against him in a shuffle to the floor-to-ceiling glass before plopping you down on all fours in front of it.
“Remember this old friend?” he smirks.
You bite your grin. “How could I forget.”
He clicks his tongue with a tilt of his chin. “Hands. On the glass.”
The surface is stone cold as you reach out to splay your palms against it, watching in the reflection as he positions himself behind you, spreading your thighs apart with his knee.
You gasp as he yanks your thong down to your knees before grabbing your hips and lining his cock up with your entrance. You nearly choke on your own tongue as he thrusts into you with no hesitation—his ears flat to his head as his hands clamp tightly around your waist, claiming you.
“Sucha good pussy,” he sighs, his stimulated cock twitching with relief to be buried back inside the tight warmth where it belongs.
The scent of sweat and sex hangs in the stuffy air of the cell as he fucks you—hard—the way he needs, sweat trickling down his temple—the sound of his balls slapping against you over and over in a quick rhythm—your white, gummy slick pooling around the base of his cock as it punches in and out of you.
“C’mon—baby,” he breathes, voice tight with effort. “Wanna make that pussy pop once more.”
You pant—head hanging between your arms, your frame becoming limp and weary as you hold onto the glass with weak hands. You feel him deep against your womb, the pressure held inside you, but your climax hovers behind a wall you can’t quite climb with your level of exhaustion.
“Can’t,” you sigh in defeat, head flopping further. “M’too tired.”
“Hey. Look at me.”
It’s a growl that has your eyes snapping up to his reflection in the glass.
You watch him—his sweat-slicked arm and shoulder muscles rippling under the down-lighting of the cell as he tugs at your hips over and over, his abs clenching as he ruts into you—sharp teeth bared.
It’s a sight that has your heat building up again in a way you didn’t think possible.
His eyes are heavily engulfed with the black of his pupils as he watches your reflection in the glass too—your palms splayed against it—swollen, heavy tits bouncing, your mouth hanging open with a trickle of drool down your chin as you take a cock too big for you from behind.
He falls forward with both hands on the glass, trapping you between it as a groan escapes him through gritted teeth. “God, needa cum.” His cock twitches wildly, his thrusts faltering. “C’mon, baby, cum fr me. You can do it.”
“Don’t stop, Jake,” you gasp weakly, brows knitted together in concentration, the pulsing of his edging dick sending waves of heat through you, “I’m almost… there—”
Jake—with the stamina of a God—plummets into you with the last of the strength he has left, picking up his pace to a feral shag—reaching down to fumble desperately with your clit. His balls tighten, cock twitching with one last heavy pulse that starts to snap the rope deep in his groin.
The home run.
“What’s my name?” He demands of you with all the authority you’d expect from a title like Toruk Makto.
“J-Jake…”
“Louder.”
He pulls your hair back in a fist, jerking your head up to look at him—his other hand crawling tightly around your throat as he makes you whine his name pathetically—each syllable coming out as a choppy choke with every slamming thrust.
“J-a-ah-ak-e!!”
It’s the last push you need.
You cum, quickly—finally—choking for air under his tight grip on your throat as white stars blur the edges of your vision. Your knees buckle under the weight of him—each shudder and raw cry racking through your exhausted little ribs until you melt in his grasp.
“Fuck—“ he pulls out, tapping your thigh with urgency. “Turn round baby—quick, gonna cum.”
His tone spins you into action and crawl around on your knees to face him.
“Deep breath.” He unclips your exo-pack with a shaky hand, the other clenched tightly around his cock as he guides it to your mouth.
You catch the tip just in time as it starts throbbing out the first spurts of his hot, salty load onto your tongue.
“Oh fuck, open that pretty mouth ’n take it all,” he gasps—gripping the back of your head roughly as he pulls your mouth further down his cock, his hips jutting forward in trembling thrusts as he unloads.
You try not to choke, gripping the shaft between both hands as it throbs with strong orgasmic pulses—sending wave after wave of his thick cum down your throat.
“Mmmff,” you muffle through a gag as you gulp back each salty wave, gawping up at him with watery lashes and mascara-stained cheeks.
“Swallowin’ like my good lil slut, huh, sucha good girl takin’ all my cum like that, t’s so fuckin’ hot babydoll,” he babbles, drunkenly—his words becoming slurred and thick in accent as he drags an index finger across your jaw, gazing down with heavy-lidded eyes at the sight of your small, soft lips wrapped around his cock.
Your chest spasms as you swallow the last of it—but you never leave his eyes. Sucking his cock-head dry, a mix of sex and salt coating your tongue as you lick over the sensitive slit. He squirms and collapses over you—his palm hitting the glass, the other landing on the small of your back.
“Fuck. Good job, baby,” he pants, swiftly pulling your body up to his chest as he falls back onto his haunches and re-attaches your mask.
“Breathe.”
You gasp in, flooding your starved lungs with oxygen as Jake presses soothing coos and kisses into your neck, his arms cocooning you.
You hold onto his shoulders as your breath returns, your ruddy cheeks lighting up with a toothy, idiotic grin.
“Holy shit. Thanks for the heads up on the tsunami.”
He chuckles with flattening ears. “Sorry, cupcake. Didn’t wanna make a mess.” His fingers dust your hair back from your mask. “Knew you had it in you.” His eyes flick over you—inspecting—before he cups your chin. “Open your mouth.”
You do as he says—opening with a raised brow, wondering why he looks like he’s found something extremely amusing in there.
“What is it?”
“Look.”
You turn your head to your reflection in the glass, your eyes widening in horror as you see your tongue stained with a luminous blue glow. It looks like you’ve eaten sour sweets—something between toxic waste and a blue slushie.
“Jesus, Jake! How long is that going to be there?” You swipe at it to no avail, the colour not shifting.
He tilts his head back and forth. “Give it a week.”
“A week?!”
His shoulders bob with a low laugh. “Nah, just fooling. Sure it’ll be gone in a day or two.” His tone isn’t certain. “At least you can think of me every time you look in the mirror,” he smirks, nuzzling against your shoulder.
You shake your head—unamused—but your lips can’t help but curve into a soft grin. Your eyes close as you slump into him with a small yawn—exhaustion quickly catching up.
“Hey, you better get going,” he mumbles, peeling you off him you as your tired, pouting face tries to follow. “Can’t have you falling asleep in here.”
“But you’re so warm and nice,” you moan. “Wanna sleep on you.”
He huffs—softly—his eyes crinkling at the edges.
“You’re cute. But you gotta get dressed. C’mon, now.”
He plops you down on the floor before standing and zipping up his jumpsuit. You glance up in awe as he towers above you before your knees tremble, threatening to buckle beneath you.
Jake’s quick to lean down, shooting a hand out for you to grab onto.
“Woah, steady there,” he chuckles, watching you wobble like a deer on ice as you try hold yourself up.
“Safe to say you’ve fucked me senseless,” you giggle. “I’m good, I’ve got it.”
You sway diagonally as you pull your pants up, staggering to where your shirt lies in a heap on the floor before picking it up and tossing it over your head. You check yourself in the reflection of the glass—smoothing your hair, sticking your tongue out and scrunching your nose at the stain—before turning to where Jake’s already flopped down on the floor with his legs crossed, an arm propped up behind his head.
He’s watching you, something deep and satisfied softening his sharp yellow eyes.
“Don’t forget your fruit,” you smirk.
He glances beside him at the untouched fruit, picking a scarlet berry from the bowl and popping it in his mouth with leisure as he holds your eyes, the tip of his tail giving a subtle sway next to him. “Mm. Tastes good.”
You tap at the sides of your thighs as you watch, suddenly feeling hot and awkward under his intense gaze.
“Good… well, guess I err… should go.”
“Guess you should.”
You clear your throat. “If you ever want to…”
He quirks an eyebrow.
“...Eat fruit again…” your cheeks flush the colour of the berries.
The chuckle bubbles in his throat. “Depends what you bring.”
“Whatever you want.”
He turns a berry in his fingers. “Doesn’t taste as sweet as you.”
Your heart skips a beat.
His smirk slides into your stomach. “Go on, get out. Starting to look like you want another round. Gimme a couple moments, at least.”
“Don’t tempt me,” you chuckle in a titter, swaying back and forth on your feet.
A pause. The air thick.
“Right, well… I’ll be going,” you say, clapping your hand on your thigh before turning on light, feeble legs.
“Forgetting something?”
You glance back over your shoulder.
He’s holding your lanyard up between his fingers.
The lanyard with your key card in.
He couldn’t get out without knowing the code, but your heart still starts to race. How did he…?
You stride over, snatching it from his hand as you glare him down, his ears twitching back and forth in amusement. Dangerous play in his eyes.
“Just because you fuck like a God doesn’t mean you can mess with me,” you remark, tilting your head up defiantly.
His smirk curls further—a lazy, amused lift.
“I fuck like a God, huh?”
Your lips press into a line, eyes narrowing. “It’s not an excuse, Jake.”
“You know how adorable you are when you’re pissed? Needa remind me to annoy you more often.”
The hint of a wry smirk flickers across your face.
“Fine.” You saunter the last steps to the door, emphasising the sway of your hips—the one that gets him hot around the collar.
“But the more I stay pissed?”
His ears perk up.
“The less you get to see these.”
You don’t need to gesture to your tits for him to know what you’re talking about.
He hisses out a throaty laugh. “Alright, sweetheart. You win.”
You grin. “See you tomorrow night, Jake.”
The door seals closed behind you with a thump.
He exhales in satisfaction as he settles back on both arms, eyelids getting heavy, sleep starting to creep over him.
Being held captive wasn’t half as bad with his little prison play thing.
Jake Sully x Female Human Reader
Word count | 6.5k
Content | 18+, explicit smut, oral sex, p in v, dom Jake, size kink, dilf kink without the word daddy, bratty reader, bioluminescent cum
Read part 1 here
You and Jake get more formally acquainted in his prison cell
“-and she had the audacity to tell Katie what I said, I mean—“ you huff a laugh, waving your mug of coffee in the air—spilling some down your RDA shirt. “Shit.” You lick your thumb and rub at it. “Can you believe that?”
“Mhm,” Jake murmurs, lying on his back with his eyes closed—half-listening as you babble on, killing him softly with your petty work-life drama.
You’d returned with a vengeance since your little escapade, making yourself quite comfortable outside his cell during your shifts—the nights becoming a blur of chat, coffee and everything in between.
Jake’s attitude had mellowed, as much as he’d hate to admit that— growing used to your soft voice blanketing the edges of his thoughts. He’d go as far to say he liked it—even. It kept him company in the silence of the prison at night. He enjoyed watching you lose yourself in your words—your little lips rambling—the way your lashes rested on your freckled cheeks when you looked down and giggled.
But on nights like this?
You bored him into the ground with your incessant, brattish small talk.
“—I told him that wasn’t an option, so of course Anna had to go and put her foot in and-“
“You know what?”
His deep voice breaks you off mid-sentence—your mouth hanging open as he slowly rolls his head over to look at you.
“What?”
“I’m starving.”
He breaks into a dramatic yawn—something grand and cat-like, his ears pinned back as the length of him stretches out with arms overhead—pearly fangs flashing—before rolling up to a lazy sit.
“But you just ate half an hour ago,” you laugh, tilting your head.
“That? Come on, that was an appetiser. What, you feeding me human sized portions now?” He smirks, tilting his head back at you, his dreads swaying forward. “I need a lotta sustenance, if you hadn’t noticed.”
There’s a glint in his eyes—the signature one you’d come to recognise when he was in the mood to play games with you.
You fold your arms over your chest, eyes narrowing. “You’re up to something.”
“What? Pfft,” he chuckles, throwing his hands up. “Guilty for asking for a little food, now?”
“You need to lay off, you’re getting a little podgy,” you grin, eyeing the outline of his stomach beneath his jumpsuit.
He crawls to a crouch beside the glass, forearms resting over his knees.
“Let me guess… new lipstick, isn’t it?”
Your bottom lip twitches as his gaze lingers on your mouth—your hand coming up subconsciously from your folded arms.
“Yeah… why?”
His eyes twinkle as they flick back up to yours. “Knew there was a reason you looked so damn pretty today.”
It was a talent, how easily he could make you blush like a stupid school girl.
“Alright. Fine,” you smirk, defeated.
You stand, gathering your mug as you turn to fetch him something.
“Wait.”
His voice swivels you back.
“Bring it through yourself, this time? Not the hatch.”
Your eyes fly wide. “In your cell? Jake, I’m not supposed to—“
“Come on,” he chuckles, tail sweeping playfully across the floor behind him. “I won’t bite. Thought you were a sucker for breaking the rules. Besides, all this acquainting?” his roguish grin ties a knot in your stomach. “Think it’s about time we had a more formal meeting, wouldn’t you say?”
Your throat bobs in apprehension.
What was he thinking?
Was it innocent?
Jake?
With that grin on his face?
Absolutely not.
Did it excite you?
Absolutely.
“Fine,” you reply, tilting your chin up as you shake yourself from your thoughts. “But for the love of God… please eat the snacks, not me.”
-
It doesn’t take you long to snake your way back from the staff kitchen equipped with a bowl of fruit—through the maze of grey corridors, to the observation room, through the airlock, to the thick metal door of his cell.
You hesitate, hand hovering over the key pad, your exo-pack clinging too tightly to your face as you take a deep breath—an attempt to calm your racing heart.
It’s just Jake.
No big deal.
Steeling yourself, you punch in the code—a sharp hiss of air spilling through the sliding door and you step in, quickly—letting it slide closed behind you, the bowl balanced precariously in your hand.
It’s eerily quiet other than the rhythmic thrum of distant machinery as you peel your eyes over to where he’s sat against the wall—his usual spot—long legs spread out in front of him, hands resting loosely in his lap—the only sign of movement the small, twitching sway of the end of his tail.
His eyes are fixated on you like two solemn, yellow orbs.
You stare back—wide-eyed and frozen to the spot.
Seeing him numerous times behind screens and glass was different. With no barrier between you, there’s a charge in the air that you weren’t prepared for—an energy you can’t place. You can smell him—a natural musk of body odour—something wild, and a little salty.
It makes you wonder if he tastes like he smells. Would his skin be rough under your tongue, or soft?
His deep voice breaks the silence, making you jump—a slow grin cracking across his face.
“What you standing over there all shy for, hm?” He beckons you over with a hand. “C’mere, wanna see what you’ve brought me.”
You inch your way over—bowl held loosely in your hand—until you’re stood eye-level before him.
His eyes fall to the bowl, a dark eyebrow quirking. “Fruit?”
“You need the diet.”
He chuckles, a sound that vibrates your entire body. “Rude. Here, set it down.” He gestures beside him with a soft, charming smile.
You bend down, leaning forward to place it—falling for his trap as easily as a rabbit to the snare as he catches your wrist, pulling with a slight tug that might be playful if there wasn’t such an effortless strength behind it.
The bowl clatters to the floor, a couple of berries rolling away.
“Jake! What’re you—“
“Sit on my lap?”
His question is late as you’re already sliding into the crook of his legs with a squeal—his knees coming up behind you, propping you up like an easel.
“For God’s sake, knew I couldn’t trust yo—“
The cat gets your tongue once you’re eye to eye with him, just inches from his face.
Breathtaking doesn’t do him justice—not this close.
Everything about him is magnificent. Every feature monumental in size.
Silver freckles dance across his face like little stars—huge, sharp feline eyes flickering with jets of gold, his striped, indigo skin glowing even under the most unforgiving light of the prison cell. You feel the sheer power of his lungs beneath you as his stomach softly rises and falls—the immense strength lying dormant in his muscular, solid limbs.
Your eyes drop to the long, textured braid winding over his shoulder, and you reach for it—curiosity getting the better of you—your apprehension long forgotten.
Jake observes in a patient silence as you slide his kuru through your grip, tilting the end up to reveal the mesmerising pink tendrils.
“Woah,” you marvel. “That’s amazing.”
His chest huffs. You remind him of himself—years ago—discovering his avatar body for the first time, when everything was still new and intriguing. It’s a precious kind of innocence that tugs at his heartstrings—one that’s lost all too soon.
Your captivation falters when you notice the small circles ghosting over your thigh. Jake’s thumb pad.
When did he start doing that?
Your eyes widen, heart picking up a beat—but you feign ignorance, continuing to turn it in your hands, studying with intent.
“So… how does it feel? You know… when you connect it to stuff?”
He glances up, narrowing his eyes with a low hum as he ponders the question.
“Intense.”
The tip of his tail sweeps past you from behind, making you jump—his fingers trailing a long, languid line up your arching spine. “Like a tingling. The connection running deep in through your bones.” His fingertips slide back down to the base of your back, chasing a shudder that racks through you uncontrollably.
He chuckles. “A bit like that.”
You let his kuru fall down, holding his gaze with eyes full of wonder.
“You amaze me, Jake.”
He blinks. Still for a beat as he gazes back at your pretty, doe-eyed face beneath the thin glass of your exo-pack.
“How long can you hold your breath?” He asks suddenly, a challenging smile forming at the corners of his mouth.
“Why?” You give a quiet laugh, brows crinkling in confusion as he reaches out to brush back a stray strand of hair that’s clinging to your mask. “Well, actually—now you mention it, I am quite proud. My personal best was four and a half minutes in RDA training when—“
His hand engulfs your mask—stopping your words in their tracks once again as he unclips it with swift expertise, lifting it from your face before leaning forward and catching your mouth with his.
Everything goes still. Your eyes flutter shut as he steals the salty tasting kiss with lips rougher than you’d imagined. It’s deep, slow and deliberate—the tip of his larger tongue slipping into your mouth to brush against yours—a greeting—before it’s gone again.
He pulls away to reattach your mask, relieving you from the toxic air that’s tailored for his na’vi lungs.
It’s a fleeting moment that has you weakened to the absolute core.
Jake watches you come back, feeling your little heart thrum in your chest, your heavy breath beneath his palm.
“Think you enjoyed that a little too much, sweetheart,” he chuckles quietly. He runs his hand over your chest—the contour of your breasts—checking you. “You alright?”
“Yeah,” you reply, voice a little shaky, eyes crinkling in a smile. “I.. You just have no idea how long I’ve dreamt of that.”
He pulls you in closer, his nose hovering under the line of your jaw. “Hope it didn’t disappoint.”
“Jake, what about the fruit…” you glance sidelong at the abandoned bowl beside you; berries spilled across the floor.
“I wasn’t hungry for that.”
Your chest hitches as he slides a hand beneath your shirt, ruching the material up over your bra before settling back against the wall with an appreciative twitch of his tail.
“Knew I couldn’t trust you,” you murmur, a blotchy flush creeping over your chest under his wolfish gaze.
“C’mon, baby,” his grin is crooked and boyish, eyes untamed as they flick from your face to your chest. “Where’s that little slut that teased me behind the glass, hm? Thought you couldn’t wait to get your hands on me.”
“This is riskier, someone could walk in—“
“Mm, they could.” He leans off the wall, face close to your chest—his warm breath ghosting over a hardening nipple beneath your bra. “But that’s half the fun.”
He envelops your boobs in his hands—enormous and rough, and your head starts spinning—the feeling of them everything you’d dreamed of and more.
“Think I’ve opened a can of worms,” you say, an attempted joke that comes out far too breathily.
He squeezes—lightly—enjoying the little sound that escapes you.
“M’just so horny, baby. Can’t even jerk off. Makes such a mess in here.”
“Jake..” you warn—a futile attempt, your chest puffing up into his hands, betraying you.
He leans down, a slither of pink tongue darting out to brush against the thin material—testing you—the warm, wet sensation igniting a trail of sparks through every nerve of your body.
“Don’t want me to make you feel good?” He murmurs, manipulation slipping from his tongue like honey.
You glance down to where his cock is pressed up like a rod against his jumpsuit—a small, damp pinpoint of glowing pre-cum already seeping through.
It’s enough to snap you faster than you can think.
“Here,” you murmur, fumbling your shirt over your head before unclasping your bra, your boobs springing free as it slides to the floor.
His pupils dilate immediately to drink in every inch of the plump little tits he’d been envisioning ever since you took your top off behind the glass.
“Goddamn, baby… Can I?” he leans forward more, his tail smacking the ground with a dull thump—excitement taking over.
You nod, eagerly. “Please do.”
He takes your boob, dragging a loose, open-mouthed kiss across the plush—his eyes closing at the softness of it—before he captures the nipple, sucking like a hungry hound.
“God, Jake, easy,” you sigh, arching your back off the ridges of his knees as his hands loop around your back, pulling you up closer to him.
His tongue rolls around the nipple with a vibrating groan, flicking over the sensitive tip—his ears perking up at your whimpering, yellow eyes darting up to watch your reaction. “You like that?” He murmurs, grazing his thumb back and forth over the other hard peak.
“Mhm, so fucking much,” you nod wildly, squeezing his biceps through the material of his jumpsuit—huge and solid arms—something sturdy that keeps you grounded as the pleasure pulses through you more rapidly. Something for you to hold onto as you start grinding against your own panties.
You peer down at him, his dark lashes resting like crescent moons against his cheeks—lips moving in a lazy manner, and you realise he’s enjoying every second of this—getting a thrill out of pleasing you, taking his time to turn you on.
And boy, was it.
Your hips shake in little shudders, head rolling back with a blissful groan as you enjoy the sensation of your own soak against your engorged clit.
He pulls away—suddenly—halting your begging hips, leaving you chasing the feeling.
“Think you’re getting way too excited there, princess,” he smirks wryly.
The breath knocks from your lungs as he flips you over by the waist, your front resting against his propped-up knees as he spreads your ass and thighs in front of him like a platter.
“Let’s see what panties we have on today, hm?” He hums as he peels your pants down to your knees—revealing the skimpy, black laced thong buried between your ass cheeks—a cute bow decorating the top—something you’d starting wearing in recent weeks, in case of—well. Just in case.
“Ohh-hoho,” he jeers with a hearty chuckle, his stomach bouncing you. “Is this for me?”
“Shut up,” you groan, flicking his knee—thanking the heavens you’re faced away so he can’t see your cheeks glowing bright pink.
“Cute. I liked the white ones,” he murmurs, sliding his hands up and down your hips, “but this is sexy as fuck.”
He circles your ass cheeks in his grip like putty—squeezing it, pushing it together before pulling it apart—an appreciative groan escaping him at the sight of the damp black string nestled in your tight slit.
“Dirty little slut, ain’tcha? Wearing this to work. Thinkin’ of me.”
You wiggle around like a mewling kitten—completely at his mercy as he teases a slow finger down the length of it.
“Don’t be a brat, now,” he growls, a firm hand holding down your fidgeting leg as he sinks further down the wall, peeling your pants off your legs fully and throwing them to the side before jerking your ass up higher to his face. He leans forward—quickly—nuzzling between your thighs, his eyes closing as he fills his lungs with the teasing scent that’s lingered in the air from the moment you stepped foot in his cell. He holds you steady by your twitching hips, hot breath pouring through the thin line between your pussy and his parted mouth as he inhales you like a suffocated man.
“Arghfuck,” he sighs loudly, his tail thrashing the floor as he pulls himself in further. “That’s so fucking good.”
“Jake!” You squeal, the flat of his nose pushing your thong in deeper with each delve, sending ripples of warmth from your pussy down your legs.
“Let’s get this out the way, shall we? Doin’ neither of us any favours.” He hooks a finger through the black string, pulling it to the side to fully reveal your pussy—crimsoned with arousal—the pink puffy shell-like centre glinting with your slick.
The silence falls heavy as he touches it—two fingers running slow circles around the entrance, his ears flattening at the soft squelch of your wet warmth.
“Jake, mfuck,” you whine, head spinning like a disco ball against his knees.
“So fuckin’ turned on fr’me, aren’t you.” He bites his lip as he explores your slit, gliding a thick thumb pad down the length—landing on your puffy clit and pressing with a calculated pressure that makes your heart skip a beat. “That feel good, hm?”
“Mmm. Need more Jake, please,” you plea in shameful desperation.
“Yeah?” His erection twitches with a begging push against its restraint—but patience calls. He knows he needs your little human pussy loosened up if he’s to fit inside. “What’d you need then, sweetheart?”
“Mm..mouth.”
“Do you now,” he hums.
You’re not sure if it’s his warm breath ghosting over your cunt or his tongue itself. All you know is the sudden electric warmth spilling through you—flooding your body as you tremble with mewls of pleasure in his lap.
The tip of his tongue dips in, curling—scooping out as much of your sweet pussy’s juices as he can in a single swipe, before swallowing it with a loud, relieved sigh.
Stars haze the edges of your vision the moment his tongue finds your clit—licking wide, repetitive drags up and down—switching to quick teasing circles with the tip, your little hysterical noises like music to his ears.
The pleasure builds up in waves—taking you higher—until it becomes a plateau of hot, fuzzy warmth that has your thighs clenching around his face, your climax soon approaching.
“Close?” He asks as if reading your body like it’s a language he already knew.
“Mmmmh,” you mumble.
He pulls away, tongue sweeping over his lips, leaving your pussy throbbing.
Your eyes fling wide with a sharp gasp as two thick fingers greet you—pushing inside, stretching you open in a way you didn’t know you needed.
He explores inside your entrance in shallow circles until finding the sweet, spongey spot he’s looking for. “There she is,” he murmurs.
Your eyes roll back in a groan as he curls his fingers down against your g-spot, dragging against the target with a pressure that has something hot coiling very quickly inside you. A sharp sensation that feels like you need to pee.
“Jake, feels like m’gonna explode.”
“Don’t hold it.” He leans beneath his working fingers to capture your clit in his mouth—pulling it between his lips with a strong suck while his fingers pump quicker, curling harder against that spot of pressure that’s undoing you.
You stiffen as you feel it building—up and up—until you’re tiptoeing on a wobbly tight rope, knuckles white on his knees, about to brink.
Your face scrunches tightly. “I’m—AH—I’m, I’m gonna—“
A final rolling vibration of his tongue against your clit and his fingers digging tightly into the spot of pressure snaps you—sending you spiralling into an explosive, squirting orgasm—delicious hot waves relieving your pussy, every nerve in your body shuddering with pleasure as the tension he’s built up in you releases three-fold.
His throat rumbles deeply as his takes it all from behind—his well-earned gush pouring onto his face, trickling down his forearms—fucking up his jumpsuit once again, but like heck he cares. He drinks it up, lapping your ass and thighs clean— tasting the subtle sweet and salty mix of your cum before dragging a last soft lick over your sensitive pussy.
“Damn, sweetheart,” he chuckles. “You’re quite the squirter.”
You can hear the self-satisfied look plastered all over his face.
“I’m not, usually,” you laugh out of breath. “That was incredible.”
He plants a slow stream of wet kisses up your thighs to your ass, big blue hands sliding up and down your hips. “I can tell by the mess you’ve made of me.”
You lean over your shoulder to take a glance, your cheeks flushing at the sight—his jumpsuit soaked with dark wet patches, his blue skin glistening with your cum as he grins foolishly.
“Shit… sorry,” you giggle.
“Sorry?” His grin turns crooked. “We can make it work to our advantage, don’t you think?”
He unzips the jumpsuit, shedding it from his arms—his darkening eyes trained on yours as he rolls it down lower, past his hips.
His incredible blue cock springs free with a slap against his abs, and you can all but gawk at the sight. The thick, veiny shaft curves upwards from the base of stubbly, dark pubic hair around his groin. It bobs with a gentle rhythmic pulse—the foreskin rolled back fully to reveal the swollen, aroused head—blue pre-cum trickling out of the slit. Your eyes skit up over his chest and arms as you swallow—your stomach flipping as the sheer size and strength of him dawns on you once again.
“Seen something you like, baby?” He taunts, the corners of his mouth quirking up.
You nod weakly, biting your lip. “This…”
You reach back for his cock with an outstretched palm, but he grabs your wrist—pushing you away with a flick, his eyes storming over with a firmness.
“Only when I say you can.”
He’s cruel—making you watch as he takes it in his own hand instead, teasing you— rolling it up and down in his grip, his head lolling back against the wall with a relieved sigh. It doesn’t take long before he simply can’t wait—his knees hitching higher, sliding you further into his lap with a small squeak.
“No more fucking around now, c’mere pretty.”
He pushes his cock down with his thumb, resting it along the entire length of your heat, both of you groaning in unison at the contact.
“Fuck,” he sighs, rolling it up in little jerks as he grips your hips, gliding his cock between your ass cheeks like a slip ’n slide. “You feel amazing, baby.”
Your head rolls forward at the ridged underside of his warm, smooth hardness rubbing against your cunt, building up heat with each drag.
“Put it in Jake, please?” You’re making me lose my damn mind,” you whinge.
His chest is heavy as he takes it in his hand again, pumping a few more times before pushing it back against your clenching hole. “Think you’ve cummed hard enough to fit me in this small cunt, hm?”
“I can handle it,” you moan, grinding against him in frustration.
He drags it up and down—your clear juices mixing with his pre—until he guides it in with his thumb, the head finally pushing inside.
Your sharp whimper clashes with his closed-mouth groan as he slides in inch by inch—two sounds stemming from different sensations.
“Fuck, that’s it,” he moans—his nostrils flaring, eyes falling shut. “Just like that, pretty angel. So fuckin’ tight.”
His grip on your hips becomes bruising as he pushes in more boisterously with growing excitement, until you yelp—a high-pitched warning that stops him in his tracks.
“Too much, sweetheart?” He breathes.
“It’s big,” you chuckle in a fluster. “Just… adjusting.”
You jolt as he reaches under his dick to dust fingers over your mound, rubbing steady circles on your clit that soon has a pleasant warmth replacing the burn.
“Better?”
“Mmh,” you nod with a little sigh, your muscles relaxing, letting his cock sink in further.
His tail flicks up to curl around your thigh as he pulls you back to lie flush against him—giving him better access—one hand covering your clit, the other snaking around your throat in loose, subtle dominance.
“I’ve got you,” he coos from above your ear in a whisper, his breath ticklish.
“Go deeper, Jake,” you shudder—craving more—sinking your nails into the flesh of his forearm as you lean back against him.
The pain is a pleasurable drug that has you hooked—your pussy stretching open for him like a flower until he’s in almost to the hilt, pressing tightly against your cervix.
Your walls give an involuntary squeeze around him, sending a strong pulse traveling from the base of his cock to the tip that you both feel.
“Fuck, good girl,” he whispers, his fangs grazing your ear. “Making me so damn proud, princess. Feels good, doesn’t it?”
The sex isn’t brash. Not to begin with. Both of you moving slowly, absorbing every sensation—the air of the cell falling heavy with the hushed sounds of deep breathing and whispered moans.
Your fingers tangle in his thick dreads, back arching up in delight as he kisses and nips at the sweet spot on your neck—one hand running down to fondle your breasts while the other works ceaseless circles over your clit.
“Feels so good, Jake,” you whimper, rolling your hips faster against his with growing pleasure—his dick slipping in and out quicker now, easier with your building slick—the sound of moist skin slapping softly.
“Yeah?” He bites down on your shoulder before trailing a wet tongue up your neck, sending a ferocious shiver through you. “Gonna cum for me again?”
“Mmm, yeah,” you cry.
“All over my cock, just like you’ve always wanted?”
His dirty talk has you bouncing quicker and he adjusts to match your pace, one hand splaying out on the floor to hold him up as he ruts up into you, the other arm holding you in place while his fingers pick up to rapid flicks over your pulsing bud.
“Thassit baby, ride me how you need.”
“Mmfuck!” You wail louder, verging quickly.
He grabs your hand, guiding it over your belly under his, both feeling his cock bulging in and out beneath your skin. “Feel that? Feel me buried inside you?”
You glance down at it in fascination—your face scrunching up—thighs clenching and squeezing together as your climax fast approaches. Jake moves to the side, his cock hitting a sweet spot that has you gasping, legs shaking.
“Right there, baby?” He pants, holding that spot as he thrusts into you harder—faster—clamping your waist down as he fucks you into your orgasm, sliding two fingers either side of your clit—trapping it—rolling the hood back and forth.
You cum—screaming silently, head thrown back against his shoulder as your pussy explodes with throbs of white-hot pleasure around his dick, your heart racing against his chest.
Jake feels every sensation—your tight cunt clenching around his cock with your orgasm, trying to milk him dry—and it damn near enough works.
His head falls back against the wall as he stifles a groan between tight lips, his eyes clenched shut. It’s all he can do to stop himself from cumming—his cock throbbing on the edge of release inside you—but he holds it with a concentrated thrash of his tail.
Don’t you dare, Jake.
He always had been a self-torture sucker with an edging kink. He thrived on the control.
“My God,” you groan, writhing lazily in his arms with his rock-hard dick still firmly buried inside you. “I’ve never felt this goo—”
“We ain’t done yet, pretty.”
You barely have time to recover as he’s shifting onto his knees, carrying you against him in a shuffle to the floor-to-ceiling glass before plopping you down on all fours in front of it.
“Remember this old friend?” he smirks.
You bite your grin. “How could I forget.”
He clicks his tongue with a tilt of his chin. “Hands. On the glass.”
The surface is stone cold as you reach out to splay your palms against it, watching in the reflection as he positions himself behind you, spreading your thighs apart with his knee.
You gasp as he yanks your thong down to your knees before grabbing your hips and lining his cock up with your entrance. You nearly choke on your own tongue as he thrusts into you with no hesitation—his ears flat to his head as his hands clamp tightly around your waist, claiming you.
“Sucha good pussy,” he sighs, his stimulated cock twitching with relief to be buried back inside the tight warmth where it belongs.
The scent of sweat and sex hangs in the stuffy air of the cell as he fucks you—hard—the way he needs, sweat trickling down his temple—the sound of his balls slapping against you over and over in a quick rhythm—your white, gummy slick pooling around the base of his cock as it punches in and out of you.
“C’mon—baby,” he breathes, voice tight with effort. “Wanna make that pussy pop once more.”
You pant—head hanging between your arms, your frame becoming limp and weary as you hold onto the glass with weak hands. You feel him deep against your womb, the pressure held inside you, but your climax hovers behind a wall you can’t quite climb with your level of exhaustion.
“Can’t,” you sigh in defeat, head flopping further. “M’too tired.”
“Hey. Look at me.”
It’s a growl that has your eyes snapping up to his reflection in the glass.
You watch him—his sweat-slicked arm and shoulder muscles rippling under the down-lighting of the cell as he tugs at your hips over and over, his abs clenching as he ruts into you—sharp teeth bared.
It’s a sight that has your heat building up again in a way you didn’t think possible.
His eyes are heavily engulfed with the black of his pupils as he watches your reflection in the glass too—your palms splayed against it—swollen, heavy tits bouncing, your mouth hanging open with a trickle of drool down your chin as you take a cock too big for you from behind.
He falls forward with both hands on the glass, trapping you between it as a groan escapes him through gritted teeth. “God, needa cum.” His cock twitches wildly, his thrusts faltering. “C’mon, baby, cum fr me. You can do it.”
“Don’t stop, Jake,” you gasp weakly, brows knitted together in concentration, the pulsing of his edging dick sending waves of heat through you, “I’m almost… there—”
Jake—with the stamina of a God—plummets into you with the last of the strength he has left, picking up his pace to a feral shag—reaching down to fumble desperately with your clit. His balls tighten, cock twitching with one last heavy pulse that starts to snap the rope deep in his groin.
The home run.
“What’s my name?” He demands of you with all the authority you’d expect from a title like Toruk Makto.
“J-Jake…”
“Louder.”
He pulls your hair back in a fist, jerking your head up to look at him—his other hand crawling tightly around your throat as he makes you whine his name pathetically—each syllable coming out as a choppy choke with every slamming thrust.
“J-a-ah-ak-e!!”
It’s the last push you need.
You cum, quickly—finally—choking for air under his tight grip on your throat as white stars blur the edges of your vision. Your knees buckle under the weight of him—each shudder and raw cry racking through your exhausted little ribs until you melt in his grasp.
“Fuck—“ he pulls out, tapping your thigh with urgency. “Turn round baby—quick, gonna cum.”
His tone spins you into action and crawl around on your knees to face him.
“Deep breath.” He unclips your exo-pack with a shaky hand, the other clenched tightly around his cock as he guides it to your mouth.
You catch the tip just in time as it starts throbbing out the first spurts of his hot, salty load onto your tongue.
“Oh fuck, open that pretty mouth ’n take it all,” he gasps—gripping the back of your head roughly as he pulls your mouth further down his cock, his hips jutting forward in trembling thrusts as he unloads.
You try not to choke, gripping the shaft between both hands as it throbs with strong orgasmic pulses—sending wave after wave of his thick cum down your throat.
“Mmmff,” you muffle through a gag as you gulp back each salty wave, gawping up at him with watery lashes and mascara-stained cheeks.
“Swallowin’ like my good lil slut, huh, sucha good girl takin’ all my cum like that, t’s so fuckin’ hot babydoll,” he babbles, drunkenly—his words becoming slurred and thick in accent as he drags an index finger across your jaw, gazing down with heavy-lidded eyes at the sight of your small, soft lips wrapped around his cock.
Your chest spasms as you swallow the last of it—but you never leave his eyes. Sucking his cock-head dry, a mix of sex and salt coating your tongue as you lick over the sensitive slit. He squirms and collapses over you—his palm hitting the glass, the other landing on the small of your back.
“Fuck. Good job, baby,” he pants, swiftly pulling your body up to his chest as he falls back onto his haunches and re-attaches your mask.
“Breathe.”
You gasp in, flooding your starved lungs with oxygen as Jake presses soothing coos and kisses into your neck, his arms cocooning you.
You hold onto his shoulders as your breath returns, your ruddy cheeks lighting up with a toothy, idiotic grin.
“Holy shit. Thanks for the heads up on the tsunami.”
He chuckles with flattening ears. “Sorry, cupcake. Didn’t wanna make a mess.” His fingers dust your hair back from your mask. “Knew you had it in you.” His eyes flick over you—inspecting—before he cups your chin. “Open your mouth.”
You do as he says—opening with a raised brow, wondering why he looks like he’s found something extremely amusing in there.
“What is it?”
“Look.”
You turn your head to your reflection in the glass, your eyes widening in horror as you see your tongue stained with a luminous blue glow. It looks like you’ve eaten sour sweets—something between toxic waste and a blue slushie.
“Jesus, Jake! How long is that going to be there?” You swipe at it to no avail, the colour not shifting.
He tilts his head back and forth. “Give it a week.”
“A week?!”
His shoulders bob with a low laugh. “Nah, just fooling. Sure it’ll be gone in a day or two.” His tone isn’t certain. “At least you can think of me every time you look in the mirror,” he smirks, nuzzling against your shoulder.
You shake your head—unamused—but your lips can’t help but curve into a soft grin. Your eyes close as you slump into him with a small yawn—exhaustion quickly catching up.
“Hey, you better get going,” he mumbles, peeling you off him you as your tired, pouting face tries to follow. “Can’t have you falling asleep in here.”
“But you’re so warm and nice,” you moan. “Wanna sleep on you.”
He huffs—softly—his eyes crinkling at the edges.
“You’re cute. But you gotta get dressed. C’mon, now.”
He plops you down on the floor before standing and zipping up his jumpsuit. You glance up in awe as he towers above you before your knees tremble, threatening to buckle beneath you.
Jake’s quick to lean down, shooting a hand out for you to grab onto.
“Woah, steady there,” he chuckles, watching you wobble like a deer on ice as you try hold yourself up.
“Safe to say you’ve fucked me senseless,” you giggle. “I’m good, I’ve got it.”
You sway diagonally as you pull your pants up, staggering to where your shirt lies in a heap on the floor before picking it up and tossing it over your head. You check yourself in the reflection of the glass—smoothing your hair, sticking your tongue out and scrunching your nose at the stain—before turning to where Jake’s already flopped down on the floor with his legs crossed, an arm propped up behind his head.
He’s watching you, something deep and satisfied softening his sharp yellow eyes.
“Don’t forget your fruit,” you smirk.
He glances beside him at the untouched fruit, picking a scarlet berry from the bowl and popping it in his mouth with leisure as he holds your eyes, the tip of his tail giving a subtle sway next to him. “Mm. Tastes good.”
You tap at the sides of your thighs as you watch, suddenly feeling hot and awkward under his intense gaze.
“Good… well, guess I err… should go.”
“Guess you should.”
You clear your throat. “If you ever want to…”
He quirks an eyebrow.
“...Eat fruit again…” your cheeks flush the colour of the berries.
The chuckle bubbles in his throat. “Depends what you bring.”
“Whatever you want.”
He turns a berry in his fingers. “Doesn’t taste as sweet as you.”
Your heart skips a beat.
His smirk slides into your stomach. “Go on, get out. Starting to look like you want another round. Gimme a couple moments, at least.”
“Don’t tempt me,” you chuckle in a titter, swaying back and forth on your feet.
A pause. The air thick.
“Right, well… I’ll be going,” you say, clapping your hand on your thigh before turning on light, feeble legs.
“Forgetting something?”
You glance back over your shoulder.
He’s holding your lanyard up between his fingers.
The lanyard with your key card in.
He couldn’t get out without knowing the code, but your heart still starts to race. How did he…?
You stride over, snatching it from his hand as you glare him down, his ears twitching back and forth in amusement. Dangerous play in his eyes.
“Just because you fuck like a God doesn’t mean you can mess with me,” you remark, tilting your head up defiantly.
His smirk curls further—a lazy, amused lift.
“I fuck like a God, huh?”
Your lips press into a line, eyes narrowing. “It’s not an excuse, Jake.”
“You know how adorable you are when you’re pissed? Needa remind me to annoy you more often.”
The hint of a wry smirk flickers across your face.
“Fine.” You saunter the last steps to the door, emphasising the sway of your hips—the one that gets him hot around the collar.
“But the more I stay pissed?”
His ears perk up.
“The less you get to see these.”
You don’t need to gesture to your tits for him to know what you’re talking about.
He hisses out a throaty laugh. “Alright, sweetheart. You win.”
You grin. “See you tomorrow night, Jake.”
The door seals closed behind you with a thump.
He exhales in satisfaction as he settles back on both arms, eyelids getting heavy, sleep starting to creep over him.
Being held captive wasn’t half as bad with his little prison play thing.
Summary: Being human on Pandora is hard, insecurities jump out and Jake tries to take care of it (and succeeds).
Word count: 6.6k (I got carried away and I hate the ending RIP)
Content warnings: Mean Na'vi, insecurities, probably some inaccuracies and Jake might be ooc, canon divergent. Set after Avatar 1. Italics is Na'vi. Smut (18+), size difference, fingering, praise, unprotected sex (don't be silly, wrap your willy!), breeding (I guess?), oral sex (f receiving), there's probably more idk I'm not good at this
Pandora is peaceful these days. Well, as peaceful as it gets for a human considering everything here is twice as big as necessary and annoyingly likely to kill you. But now that the RDA is gone, it feels like the planet can breathe again. That's not an exaggeration either. Sometimes, it really feels like the land and the forest breathes whilst the people sleep. The Great Mother is content, watching over her children and healing from the damages of war.
Life here after everything was an adjustment to say the least. Jake changed over to his Avatar body fully, for reasons that you completely understood. But your relationship didn't change much. He's still cheeky and teasing, just now in a bluer, much larger body. If anything, he seems even happier in your relationship now. Not that he wasn't happy before, but he always claimed to be a burden to you even though you never once thought such a thing.
Now, the roles have reversed. You're small. Well, human-sized, anyway. Frailer than the Na'vi, unable to breathe the Pandoran air, unable to eat most of the food and therefore, unable to enjoy a meal with the one you love. You're managing as best you can, but it's steadily beginning to weigh on you. Especially when you look at all the Na'vi couples around the new hometree, walking side by side with tails entwined or brushing the others leg. You listen as some talk about how magical it was to mate before Eywa and perform tsaheylu. These are just more things you know you'll never be able to do, and its wildly upsetting. But, even though these things weigh on you, Jake is none the wiser. That is by design. He has enough on his plate being the new Olo'eyktan.
Speaking of, he is currently busy, as always, dealing with some internal dispute or meeting with other clan leaders. You've forgotten which it was he had to do today. Either way, his absence has given you the time to walk around freely, not hugely far from hometree but far enough into the woods to give you space to ruminate on your own thoughts. Hardly ideal, but you can't help it. And to make matters worse, with your growing understanding of the Na'vi language, you've come to notice that your Jake is a topic of conversation on almost everyone's lips. Many speak of how he is adjusting to being Olo'eyktan, others of how he is still too human in some ways but will learn with time. One such conversation is happening right this second, and you can hear every word of it.
"I do not understand our Olo'eyktan. He should have mated Neytiri after everything. She is to be his Tsahik after all, after her mother's time."
"Mm. Yes, sister. But he has that vrrtep that he keeps around. He should get rid of it. What can she possibly do for him, hm?"
"She is like a pet, no? Or perhaps, like a child's toy."
Raucous laughter echoes through the clearing, and it makes your stomach turn. You think the conversation may end there, but of course, it doesn't. One woman gives a short sigh, almost wistful in a way.
"He is so good with the children here. She cannot give him that. I doubt she is even satisfying him."
A sharp, scandalised gasp.
"Sister! You should not say such things. Even if they are true."
You've heard enough at this point, turning on your heels and rushing through the trees. Their laughter seems locked into your head, echoing and bouncing around your skull with the words that you're sure must be true. This isn't the first time the Omatikaya have questioned Jake about his allegiance to you, but you haven't heard anything from anyone for so long, you'd considered it all forgotten. But of course not. How could it be? You're just a human. A human playing around in the woods, acting like you're more than you are.
You don't know when you make it back to hometree. Hell, you weren't even paying attention to where you were going or your surroundings. A pack of viperwolves could've gotten you and you'd be none the wiser. A sick thought pops into your head then. 'At least Jake could move on with someone more like him.' But you know Jake Sully. He would be destroyed by the loss. Tommy. Grace. Tsu'tey. All the hundreds that died fighting for Pandora. Your death would topple him.
You're startled out of your thoughts by the voice of the very man you're thinking about. But before you can even look up, you're basically body slammed by a wall of warm muscle, the gesture knocking your breath right out of you.
"Baby! What the hell were you doing out there so late? I was so worried. They said you left hours ago with," he pauses, kneeling so he can look you over. "Just a knife? Are you insane?"
His hands keep running over your limbs, checking for bruising or injuries, concern knitting his bushy eyebrows so close together they might fuse. You don't even know what to say. Your throat feels tight and your eyes are stinging once again as he checks over your exopack, making sure you still have enough oxygen even though you wouldn't be standing if you didn't. He notes that it is running a little low but you've seemingly gotten back in time for a change.
Your eyes drift over his features whilst he does all this, and without thinking, you lift a hand, brushing your fingers over that spot between his eyebrows, trying to ease the tension before he gives himself a headache. His hands finally stop moving, resting over your waist and hips, fiddling with the tewng he had made for you as his eyes finally meet yours.
"Sorry, baby. Didn't mean to.. you know. Get all irate. You just.. you really scared me. Are you okay?" His voice softens as his eyes lock with yours, looking into your very soul like he always does. Your hand drifts away from his forehead now that it's not all creased up, dropping down to your side, and you attempt to steady your voice enough to respond.
"Yeah." Well that didn't sound convincing. "I'm okay. Sorry for scaring you." Definitely not convincing at all. Good job.
He isn't convinced at all, but just as he's about to question you further, you step forward and wrap your arms around his neck, the lukewarm glass of your mask pressing against his skin. God, you wish you could feel him fully right now. It's torture not being able to kiss him freely. His arms tighten around your waist and he rises from his knees with ease, lifting your body into his arms and firmly against his chest, one hand shifting to make sure you're not accidentally flashing everyone. They likely wouldn't care, but you still have your reservations about being so barely clothed. It was a battle just to get you to try the tewng on, and you still prefer wearing baggy t-shirts or crop tops over the Na'vi style chest accessories.
He begins carrying you off to your kelku, brushing off everyone who attempts to corral him to main meal. Their Olo'eyktan always gives a few words of thanks for the People's hard work and the agenda coming up. He tells Neytiri to have Mo'at lead things tonight, stating that his– Hang on. Did he just say, 'his mate isn't feeling well?' And in front of so many people?
Neytiri doesn't question it, knowing that Jake is still as stubborn as he was when they first met, and that you will always be his first priority. She simply nods and turns towards the main firepit, leaving you two alone. Your cheeks burn beneath your mask, and whilst Jake can't feel those, he can definitely feel the way your body warms a little and your heart beats just that bit faster. Upon reaching your little home, he closes the door flaps behind him, ensuring that you will not be disturbed. He sits down with you firmly planted on his lap, legs straddling his hips.
"Now, you gonna tell me what's really going on?" He looks at you with an eyebrow raised, the look he often gives to Omatikaya children that are being just a bit too rambunctious in the late hours. Annoyingly, it kind of works on you too, and you anxiously avert your eyes as he begins fiddling with your exopack, swapping out the dying battery for a fresh one. He pats your hip once he's done and you realise you still haven't answered.
"I–" You hesitate, of course, you hesitate. This wasn't a conversation you were ready to have. Not by a long shot. You were hoping to just.. Not.
"I missed you.. Is all," you mutter, still not looking at him as you lean forward, slumping against his chest and closing your eyes. You know you're not entirely lying, you do miss him all the time, but that is not what was bothering you so deeply. It seems he may have bought it though, biding you time to figure out how to actually deal with your own insecurities. His hands begin rubbing up and down your waist, fingers deftly pushing under the loose fabric of your shirt so he can feel your skin. His touch causes a little shudder to run up your spine before settling into a blooming warmth that spreads across you.
"I missed you too, baby.. Missed having you in my arms." His words are punctuated with little kisses pressed wherever he can easily reach, top of your head, neck, shoulders, wherever. He even pulls your shirt up over your head with a quick glance for permission just so he can kiss your body more, desperate for the skin-to-skin contact and intimacy. It sends shivers through you, and for a moment, you may actually be able to forget about your worries. You begin trailing a soft hand up his arm, feeling the corded muscle beneath his striped skin, the other hand gliding down his body. His tail thwacks against the bed mat, a small chuckle leaving your lips because he's so much easier to read in this body. A soft groan rumbles through his chest as he grips your hips, pulling you flush against him to feel the growing hardness beneath his tewng making you gasp softly.
"See what you do to me?" He rasps, ears pinning to his head and his pupils dilating with hunger. His lips descend onto your neck again, and between kisses, he rubs his cheek against your skin, scenting you so everybody knows that you're his. Everybody knows anyway, but he can't help himself. A little flicker of insecurity sparks in your head, but a nip to your neck makes you whine, sending the thought out before you could even register what it was. It seems that Jake Sully catches onto more than he lets on, and now, he seems determined to distract you from what's bothering you.
He grabs your wrists carefully, not wanting to bruise your delicate, human skin, and he brings them up to his own neck, essentially making you scent him in return. The realisation, honestly, almost makes you cry. Most Na'vi hate human scents, turning their noses up whenever you walk by despite you using all the same scented oils that the Omatikaya do. And now Jake is willingly dousing himself in that same scent, making sure it sticks to his skin for as long as possible. You rise up on your knees, saving yourself the ache in your shoulders and your teeth sink into your bottom lip as your wrists continue rubbing against his skin. You lean in slowly, wanting so badly to press your cheek against him the way he did to you, only to be stopped a mere inch or two away by the glass covering your face. Frustration bubbles over in you, and your hands clench against him as the words you've been holding back slip out unintentionally.
"I wish I weren't me."
He freezes, muscles tight and rigid, and his hands firmly planted on your waist. You even feel his grip tighten the tiniest bit, and now you realise that you've fucked up. Now, he knows exactly what's bothering you. His body relaxes marginally, his lips coming to the top of your head.
"I don't." Your head lifts so quickly that you almost smack into his chin, eyes wide and glossy beneath the mask as you look into his eyes.
"I mean it. I wouldn't have you any other way. You drive me crazy in this body. Can you imagine if you had an avatar? Jeez. I'd be more feral for you than I am now." His words don't carry an ounce of deceit, especially when matched with the way his hand his slid up the front of your body, between your soft breasts and over your heart.
"I fell in love with this heart. Way back when. Your beauty was just a bonus," he adds with a soft huff of a laugh, his thumb gently swiping over your skin, dipping a little to brush the silky soft underside of your breast, causing your breath to hitch. He looks at you then. Really looks at you. There's so much behind his eyes that it's almost overwhelming trying to decipher it all. Love. Desire. Adoration. Hunger.
"You.. You don't mind?" Your voice is so quiet that the question is almost inaudible. But Jake hears it. He hears everything when it comes to you. He knew you were having some issues lately. But he also knows you better than anyone, and trying to get you to talk about your feelings is difficult. He'd have an easier time getting a straight answer out of an angry 'angtsìk.
"I can't even bond with you properly. I can't give you the family you want and deserve. I can barely survive out here like this. Hell, Jake, I can't even breathe the air here. How are we supposed to have a life together?" The words all tumble out freely, and so do the tears. It kills Jake inside that he can't kiss them away the way he wants to. Normally, he'd just lift your mask for a second but not whilst you're borderline hyperventilating, that'd just be dangerous. He pulls you closer, wrapping his arms around your waist again, purring softly. He knows you love that sound. You teased him for a month straight when you found out he could do it. Hell, even he was surprised. He gently lifts you a little, rubbing his face against your soft chest and under your jaw. Just nuzzling you like an oversized cat.
"Oh, baby. Baby, baby, baby.." His voice is warm, like the rest of him, and he lets out a little sigh before looking at you again.
"Sure, I think about those things too occasionally but I realised that none of that really matters to me. As long as I can have you. All of you, as you are, with me. That's all I want. Just my girl. We don't need tsaheylu for me to know what's going on in that head. We have our own bond, don't we? And yeah the mask is annoying but that's why we go to that old research station when Norm and his band of nerds aren't workin’ there. Means you can breathe and we get to fool around," he shoots a wink your way which makes you laugh between little sniffles. Your hands fiddles with the woven armband he wears around his bicep, almost feeling silly for the words that are about to come out of your mouth.
"We hardly fool around. I can't even take you without almost crying and having to stop."
Jake tilts his head in that way that makes you feel all funny inside and the fucker knows it too. His features have settled into that lazy grin and there's hunger and teasing in his eyes.
"That's what you're worried about?" Aaaaaand just like that, you're flustered again. Distracted from your tumultuous emotions and insecurities as your cheeks burn and you attempt to stammer out a response.
"I'm. No. I'm worried about a lot of things.. that just happens to be one of them." Jake just laughs and you honestly can't blame him. That was such an awkward reply. It's not a mean laugh though, not like the gossiping Na'vi from earlier. It's the kind of laugh that makes your heart do a little somersault in your chest.
"Well, we can work on that.. Just know, I would wait a lifetime for you, okay?" He pulls you against him yet again, eyes half-lidded and full of love and lust for you as his fingers brush over your skin repeatedly.
"Either way, I'm obsessed with you. How you smile."
Kiss.
"How you laugh at my shitty jokes."
Kiss.
"How you feel under my hands."
Kiss.
"Under me."
Kiss.
"How you sound when I touch you."
Kiss.
"How pretty you look when you cum for me."
Kiss.
"You are everything I need."
He gently lays you down at this point, still lavishing your body with kisses, from your neck down to your chest, one on each nipple, giving each a soft suckle, and further down till he reaches your little tewng, still purring like a damn motor just from being able to drown you in his affections. His eyes raise to your own, asking your permission once again, and once he has it his fingers deftly untie the garment covering your lower body, tossing it aside carelessly. He inhales deeply, taking in your scent with a languid sway of his tail, and your cheeks burn violently under your mask.
"Jake! You're so.. odd." Is all you manage to say before you about die from embarrassment, tossing an arm over your face in an attempt to hide, though the exopack hardly allows it.
"Maybe. Or I'm just completely in love with you." He doesn't even let you get another word in, delving into your folds with a long drag of his tongue, pushing his way into your weepy little hole like the slick you're leaking is the only sustenance he's had in days. His tongue is soft but barbed, the little bumps dragging through your saccharine walls in the most delicious way. Your hands cling to his head with a wanton cry, and your back arches off the bed mat. His large hands slip up your body, holding onto your waist to keep you from squirming away.
"Don't run away, baby.. Don't. Please." God, he sounds desperate. Starved. His lips wrap around your pearly clit, suckling on it in a way that makes your legs tremble. He switches between suckling on your clit and dragging his tongue between your slit, the overwhelming feeling of both distracting you to the point you don't notice his hand moving, until you feel a little prod at your entrance. His finger, though long and thicker than your own, slips in with ease, causing a sharp gasp to escape you as you grind down against his hand.
"O-oh, Jake!" You cry out in pleasure, absolutely no control over how loud you're being. Though Jake clearly doesn't mind, angling his finger to begin stroking that little gummy spot that has you seeing stars, only to then slip a second finger inside you with a shit-eating grin on his face.
"I know, baby. Taking it so good. My pretty girl, so perfect." The praise just adds to everything, and frankly, it's making you dizzy. His tongue returns to the mix once again, flicking at your clit before dipping to your folds, lapping up every drop of arousal that's just oozing from you by now. You can barely think straight, your body flooded with pleasure and your mind turning to fluff. You manage a glance down at him, and your cunt tightens around his fingers as a result. He looks drunk. Thoroughly pussy drunk. His lips and chin glisten with the sheen of your slick, and his pupils are so wide they've basically wiped out the gold of his eyes. He looks almost feral, just feasting away on every syrupy drop of slick that you give him as his fingers pump away inside your fluttering cunt. But his eyes, as blacked out as they are, still hold that loving reverence he feels for you, the adoration. He loves you more than life itself and he's determined to make you feel better. And, well, it's working. The band in your tummy gets tighter, walls fluttering erratically around his fingers as your whines grow higher in pitch. Jake doubles down, fully sucking on your clit whilst stroking and bumping that one spot inside you, ears twitching at every pitchy cry you let out.
"J-Jake.. I. Fuck. 'M gonna.." Your eyes roll back in your head, body bowing as your high reaches its peak. To top it all off, Jake presses his free hand against your tummy, increasing the pressure inside you to the point you let out a squeal before your vision whites out. He groans and purrs through it all, the extra vibrations causing your body to shake in his hands, cunt gushing around his fingers and onto his face. He doesn't let up. Just licking and lapping at your sopping folds until you eventually push against his head, whimpering softly when it becomes too much. His lips detach from you with a slick 'pah' sound, and he gently sets your lower half back onto the bed mat. You didn't even realise he'd lifted you. He makes a real meal out of licking his lips clean before resting his hand on your belly, stroking your skin softly as you come down from your high just enough for his fingers to slip free.
"Thought you weren't gonna let me go, heh," he chuckles. The bastard fucking chuckles. If you had any physical strength you'd smack him but that was honestly the most mind blowing orgasm he's ever given you, and he's given you many, so right now your limbs feel all mushy. Your eyes finally refocus on his face as he sucks your juices from his fingers, his own eyes locked on yours the whole time. That look gets the fire going again and your hips squirm against the bed mat, telling him everything he needs to know. He just chuckles at you again, smoothing his hands along your hips and waist as he leans over you, kissing his way up your body until he reaches your mask. He nudges it with his nose and you have half the mind to tease him for looking like such a kitty cat right now but he carefully reaches up to lift the mask, giving you the chance to take a breath before he does. His lips quickly but gently descend on yours, plump and soft and tasting of your own essence. You have to remember not to take a breath in like you normally would, and the kiss ends almost as quickly as it started, the glass of your mask coming back down over your face. The disappointment is palpable on your expression, but a soft shake of his head shuts down any negative thoughts that might be brewing. He leans down closer to you, and you can feel the rampant hardness between his legs, still somehow tucked under his tewng. Your hands reach for the strings of his tewng before the thought even registers in your head, freeing him from the confines of the fabric, breath hitching softly when it's finally visible to you. You'll never get over the sight. He's huge, obviously, the size of your forearm at the least, and his tip is probably the size of your damn fist. You've never really compared it to anything before. He's thick and veiny and annoyingly pretty actually, blue like the rest of him with the darker blue stripes, and a few glittering speckles dotted about the length of him. He also has these little ridges on the underside, soft and spongey and looking like they rub all the right spots.
"You gonna keep staring, baby?" Oh, right. You have kind of been staring. Your cheeks burn red as your eyes meet his, a sheepish expression on your face.
"What? Can't help it. You're so pretty, Jake.." You're all but whispering now, mostly because you're a little embarrassed but also because you're always so in awe of him. Being Na'vi suits him. You gently run your hands up his arms, over his shoulders which have buffed out even more recently, over his pecs and down his abdomen, tracing your fingers over stripes, scars and muscles alike. His breathing is heavy, and it gets even heavier when you reach that stupidly pretty cock, your hand wrapping around it as best you can and giving a firm squeeze that has his hips jolting forward.
"I want you, Jake.. Inside me," you murmur, your eyes pleading as you look up at him, your hand stroking him steadily. "Please? Wanna try..”
“Alright. We'll try.” His eyes have pretty much turned black again, a deep, almost growly purr emanating from his chest as he moves, wordless now, grabbing your thighs and parting them gently. Always trying not to hurt you. The man is a sucker for you, always doing things just because you asked. Hell, he'd give you anything, do anything for you. Just to see you happy. He briefly lets go, reaching for something out of your line of sight before he props it under your hips, attempting to open you out for him more. His fingers delve back in first, a surprised whine slipping out of your lips and into the night, all but echoing around you. First one finger, then two, a slick squelch coming from between your thighs that makes your cheeks burn before he's bullying a third finger into you. The sting is brief thanks to how wet you are, and the sensation has you keening, hips pushing into his hand and pulling away shortly after like you can't decide if you want more or not. His other hand locks around your thigh again, holding you in place as he lets out a gruff chuckle.
"Tryna run away again? No, no, baby.." He holds you still, fingers bullying your melty insides, stretching you wide enough to hopefully take him. Jake would be happy with just the tip at this point. He's been dying to feel you around his cock but still, he'd take anything he can get. His fingers slip away again just as you were on the brink of cumming again, a whine escaping you as you look up at him, some little complaint at the ready until it dies on your tongue at the sight of his angry, purple tip just a mere hairs breadth from your entrance. God, he's almost drowning your folds in his sticky, glowing pre, adding a whole new layer of slick to the mix as he presses the oozing head against your cunt. On reflex, you tense up, almost mentally preparing for the pain that'll follow. But Jake stops, one hand holding and caressing your thigh whilst the other is preoccupied with aligning himself with you. He leans over you, drowning you in his warmth again as he purrs right in your ear.
"Gotta relax, paskalin. I've got you. Let me do all the work, okay? You just relax," he murmurs, pressing kisses to your shoulder and along your collarbone as he continues rubbing the fat mushroomy head of his cock against you, pressing in marginally before retreating again. It's anguish. You want him so badly and your hands reach up to cling to his biceps, nodding gently before letting out a deep, shaky breath.
"Good girl." And with that, he feels that last little bit of resistance melt away, the head of his cock pushing in just a little further, and a little more. Oh, and a little more. That alone has you reeling, nails digging into his arms, moaning and babbling nonsense at him already as you feel the head just pop inside, settling right in like he belongs there.
"Oh. Oh my god. Hol- y shit," is about the extent of your sentences right now, your mind fully focused on the feeling of Jake finally being inside you. You try to push your hips against him, eager to take more now that you've had a taste and Jake hisses, his hands firmly gripping your hips as his tail whips around behind him. You feel even better than he expected, and he has to remind himself to hold back or he'll seriously hurt you. His head bows down to your chest, puffs of air blowing against your tits, eyes screwed tightly closed, purrs rumbling in his chest and his teeth gritting together just so he doesn't cum right this second.
"Shit, baby. Feel s'good." He sounds as fucked as you feel. He sinks his teeth into the fat of your tit, biting a mark into it that'll linger for days before he lifts his head again, slowly drawing his hips back, eyes fixated on where your little cunt is stretched around his length. Your legs cling to his hips, trying so hard to keep him inside as you whine and whimper pathetically. He reaches down and thumbs at your clit in smooth circles as he pushes back in, both of you groaning loudly as he pushes in further, causing a small swell to appear in your lower belly from the sheer size of him. Your head lolls against the mat beneath you, and your hands slip down to his forearms, clinging to him as he finds a good rhythm and depth for both of you, mostly prioritising your comfort, prompting the lewdest cries to flow from your lips. Jake's hands come down the backs of your thighs, hoisting them up and folding you into the meanest mating press, making you squeal and tense up briefly at the way the new angle feels.
"Now.. Let's- Fuck. Let's see if there's still some human DNA in me, huh?" He rasps, chuckling briefly, brushing his fingers over the little bump he's created in your tummy. Your eyes fling open, locking onto his as your jaw drops in shock. His eyes are locked on that area of your stomach, like he's imagining it swelling out more. Whether that's possible is another issue entirely. But not one he cares about right now. He's still going to try.
"Oh shit." Is the last clear sentence you manage, because now Jake is pistoning his hips, thighs bracketing your body as he holds you where he needs you, fucking into your gummy walls as deep as he can without hurting you. Pain is the absolute last thing on your mind. All you feel is overwhelming pleasure, and you're letting the whole damn planet know about it with how loud your cries are. The slick sounds of skin on skin just add to the lewd symphony occurring in your little home right now. At some point, he's managed to fit even more of himself inside you, almost half-way now, making that little bump more prominent with every thrust, and the bastard keeps pressing down on it, making you gush more syrupy slick all down his length. It seems like half is all he can do today, forcing anymore of himself inside you would just be mean. Maybe another time. Jake isn't feeling mean today. But Jake is reeling either way, finally getting to feel your warmth around him.
“Ngh- Jake! Fuck-.. ing hell!” Your cries are simply a string of mewls, barely even full sentences, and Jake is loving it. He has this utter shit-eating grin on his face as he leans down over you, chest to chest, as he licks a stripe up your neck, tasting the salty tang of sweat to make up for the fact that he can't lap away your tears. Yes, tears, that you don't even realise are falling. The mask on your face stops them going any further, being absorbed into the edges around your face. Jake wants to lick them away so badly.
“My pretty girl. Look at you. How could I ever want anyone else, huh? Look at you.. creaming all over me, crying for me.. So fuckin' perfect for me.” His praises are grunted and almost sharp, but loving at the same time, his hands tightening around your legs in a way that'll leave bruises for all to see, his hips fucking into you like he's trying to drill the words into your very being. “You're my girl. My woman. Love of my.. fuck, ngh, fuckin' life. You hear me?” All you can do is nod dumbly, your eyes hazy and mind fuzzy as pleasure numbs out every nerve ending in your body.
“Mngh.. L-love you- ah! Jake! ‘M gonna c-” Your eyes roll back and your body steadily goes rigid as you tiptoe that fine line, your cries growing more and more pitchy by the second. Jake groans deep in his chest, pumping his hips faster and harder to get you there, and his thumb rubs steady circles over your slick clit.
“Come on, baby, cum all over me, yeah? Let me feel you, milk me fuckin' dry.” He's babbling too now, his ears are pinned to his head and his eyes are locked on your fluttering cunt, eyebrows furrowed as he tries to get you there first. He's also in disbelief at how quickly he's about to cum, like a dumb teenager experiencing their first time. He's struck out of his own thoughts when he suddenly feels your walls clamp down on his cock like a fucking vice, squeezing so tight he can barely move, his hips and breaths stuttering as he looks up at you. You're a fucking vision right now, a light sheen of sweat over your skin, eyes screwed closed and your pretty lips parted in an ‘O’ shape, a lewd moan dying in your throat because of the sheer strength of your orgasm. Just looking at you sets him off, and he plunges in one last time as deep as your little body can take him before he's unloading himself inside you, painting your walls and flooding you from the inside. Your eyes flutter open at the feeling, warm and thick and plentiful to the point it's oozing out of you around Jake's length, streaming down your ass and between your thighs, a soft whimper escaping you at the sensation. His head drops to your chest, breathless and spent for the time being, but even so, he begins pressing soft kisses to your skin as he settles your legs around his hips, easing the strain in the muscles at the backs of your thighs. His hands begin gently massaging and caressing your sore legs, deep, soft purrs rumbling through his body.
“You.. You are amazing. Took me so well, baby. You okay?” His head lifts, eyes full of concern as he checks you over, but all he sees is the blissed out expression on your face. It makes him chuckle briefly, seeing you so drunk on pleasure. It's a sight he's seen before but this time is different, it's a whole new level. He taps the underside of your jaw with a finger, still situated between your legs and snuggly tucked inside you. “Baby? Can you talk to me? Or just nod, that's okay, too.”
Your mind finally catches up, your body is thoroughly fucked, limbs still tingling and slightly sore already, but you're aware of the concern in his voice. It takes a minute for you to become at least responsive, managing a little nod and a smile.
“Yeah.. I- I'm okay.. More than okay..” Jake's expression softens into one of relief when you finally respond, and he begins to slowly pull back from you. Your hands quickly cling to his arms, eyes wide and a little glossy and a small pout on your lips. “Don't.. Stay. Please?” Your hands slide up his arms until they're clasped together behind his head, fingers tangling in his hair, and if your legs didn't feel like jelly you'd attempt to wrap them around him like a damn koala but that is completely out of the question right now.
“Alright, alright, easy. You're okay, I'm not goin’ anywhere. Was just gonna clean you up but we can stay like this. No problem, baby.” He shushes you gently, aware that you're feeling a little sensitive, both physically and emotionally, right now, so he carefully scoops you up against him before lying on his back with you curled against his chest, soft whimpers spilling from your lips with every little shift and tug where you're still connected. You practically melt against his chest, tucking your arms under your head for comfort, your breaths fogging up the glass of your mask but that is the least of your concerns when he's purring like an engine beneath you. Soft praises continue pouring from his lips, murmurs about how well you did and how much he loves you filling the air as he wraps his tail around one of your slightly sticky thighs. His fingers gently trail up and down the smooth planes of your back, rear and upper thighs, massaging any little sore spots he finds along the way and occasionally pressing on little bruises that are already beginning to form. Not that you mind them really. They're just extra proof of your relationship in a way. You manage to shift yourself onto shaky forearms, lifting your mask with one hand as Jake quickly leans down to meet you halfway once he realises what you're doing. His hands cradle your face carefully, and he begins peppering kisses all over your face and of course, on your lips, all in the short few seconds he has of you before you have to put your mask back on again. He'd kiss you forever if he could, but out here it's hardly wise. Maybe next time he'll drag you to that research station again. Once Norm and his nerds have cleared out.
“Oel ngati kameie, Jake..” His ears twitch in that familiar almost feline way, and his expression softens further as the rumbling in his chest gets even louder, forcing you to hold back a giggle at the way it interrupts the soft moment. Almost in retaliation, his tail whips around and smacks the back of your thigh, making you squeak in surprise, before wrapping around it gently, the soft tuft of hair on the end brushing against your skin in a soft caress as he begins pulling a soft blanket over your body.
“Oel ngati kameie.. My sweet girl.” His arms tighten around your body, holding you so close to him you may as well be fused to his skin. You're not complaining though. You're warm, safe and oh so loved by him. In this moment, you're kind of glad to be human. Because if you had a tail or the ability to purr, your tail would sprain from wagging like a damn dogs and your throat would wear out from purring so much.
You know that there will still be difficult days ahead, ones where your insecurities and concerns pop out with a vengeance. But you realise that, Jake is right, all you need is each other. Even when days are dark and difficult inside your head, he will be there, soothing those thoughts away and reminding you how much he loves you. How he sees you. Even with your humanity and all the flaws you feel you have. He just sees you. The woman he fell in love with. And that? That brings you enough peace to drift off to sleep on his chest, a little sore and sticky, but wholly content for the first time in weeks, sleeping deeply in the arms of the man turned Na'vi that you love and adore.
Focusing on capturing features, lighting and expression. I’m thinking of doing more of these- I want to try out some more expressive ones, maybe a hiss (I feel like that will be challenging lmao), and some other characters! Who should I draw next?
Pairing: Jake Sully x daughter!reader (ft Neytiri, Tuk, Kiri (mentioned), Neteyam (mentioned).)
Warning: angst, parental neglect, physical injury, emotional repression, arguments, fighting, hurt comfort
Summary: As Neteyam’s twin sister, you were never allowed to be just a child. Every day was a lesson in toughness, every conversation with your father was a debriefing and every smile you once had was slowly chiseled away by Jake’s high expectations.
✨ based on this request ✨
The weight of your bow always felt heavier than the one Neteyam carried, even if they were carved from the same wood.
As the twin to the golden son, you weren't just a daughter; you were a shadow that had to be just as sharp.
The sun was barely up when the first arrow left your string. Your fingers were raw from yesterday's training, you could no longer feel the bite of the cord.
"Again," Jake’s voice barked. "Your stance is wide. You’re bracing for a hit instead of moving with the wind. Again."
You adjusted, your lungs burning. To your left, Neteyam caught your eye, a silent look of sympathy. He knew. He noticed the daily "Good job, son," while you got the "Don’t let it happen again."
Later that afternoon, the atmosphere shifted. Kiri drifted toward the clearing, humming a low tune. Jake’s face softened instantly. The hard lines around his eyes, the ones that had been judging your footwork all morning, melted away.
"Kiri, baby, be careful with those thorns," he said, his voice dropping into a gentle tone you hadn't heard directed at you in months. He reached out, tucking a stray hair behind her ear. "You want to go see the woodsprites? I'll walk with you."
You stood ten feet away, coated in dust and sweat, clutching a spear like a lifeline. He didn't even look back.
The shift didn’t happen all at once. It was a slow cooling.
The daddy’s girl who used to leap onto his back was dying. In her place grew a soldier. You stopped bringing him small gifts from the forest. You stopped seeking his praise. Most importantly, you stopped smiling when he entered the room.
"You’re late for dinner," Jake said as you entered the family hut. He was laughing at something Lo'ak had said but his eyes sharpened when they landed on you.
"I'm sorry, Sir," you replied.
The words were clipped. Ice-cold. You didn't sit by his side like you used to. You sat by the entrance, checking the fletching on your arrows.
Jake paused, the laughter dying in his throat. "I’m just saying, the team relies on—"
"I already understood the correction," you interrupted, not looking up. "It won't happen again."
The silence that followed was hard. Neytiri looked between the two of you, her brow furrowing, sensing the sudden wall you had built.
-
You sat on the floor, your fingers woven into Tuk’s hair as she leaned against your chest, showing you a collection of glowing shells. For the first time in months, your shoulders weren't hunched toward your ears. You looked... soft.
Until the footfalls of Jake interrupted the moment.
"Get your gear," Jake said, not even slowing down as he grabbed his own pack. "We’re scouting the eastern ridge. Neteyam is already at the pens."
You didn't move. Your hands stayed steady in Tuk’s braids. "I’m staying home today."
Jake stopped in his tracks. He looked at you as if you had spoken in a foreign tongue. "Excuse me?"
"I am staying with Tuk," you repeated, your voice flat. "She wants to go to the river. I told her I would take her today."
"The river can wait," Jake snapped, his voice rising into a commander tone that usually made everyone fall in line. "The RDA is moving equipment. And you’re one of our best warriors. Get up. Don't be stubborn."
You looked up and the coldness in your gaze made Jake flinch. "I am always a warrior. I was a warrior yesterday and I will be one tomorrow. Today, I am a sister."
"It's not a request!" Jake stepped forward, his shadow looming over you. "You have a responsibility to this clan. You don't get to choose when you want to show up because you’re in a mood."
Neytiri appeared from the back of the hut, her eyes darting between Jake’s mounting fury and your rigid posture. She saw the way you held Tuk, not just with affection but like a shield.
"Ma Jake," Neytiri warned softly, placing a hand on his arm. She looked at you, her expression softening with a painful realization. She saw the change. The girl who used to smile while she trained was gone; in her place was a statue of salt and pride. "Let her stay. Neteyam and Lo'ak are enough for one patrol."
"No, she needs to understand," Jake argued, shaking his head. "She’s been pulling away for weeks. You want to be treated like a grown warrior? Then act like one and follow orders."
You stood up then, gently nudging Tuk toward her mother. You stood tall, matching Jake’s height as best you could.
"Is that all I am to you, dad?" your voice cracked. "A soldier you can order around?"
"You're being a brat," Jake sighed, exasperated. "Kiri doesn't give me this kind of trouble."
The mention of Kiri’s name hurt you. You felt a heat rise in your throat, a familiar sting of tears pricking at the corners of your eyes.
You stepped back. You swallowed hard, forcing the lump down. Your eyes were swimming, glazed with a layer of unshed tears that threatened to spill, but you refused to let them fall. You wouldn't give him the satisfaction of seeing a delicate daughter he clearly didn't want you to be.
"I am not being stubborn," you whispered, your voice trembling. You blinked rapidly, holding the tears. You grabbed your hunting knife, not to go to the ridge but to keep it by your side as you sat back down next to a confused, quiet Tuk. "I'm staying home, I'm going to take my sister to the river, as I promised, you can punish me later."
Jake opened his mouth to bark another order but Neytiri’s grip on his arm tightened, her hiss low and sharp.
She saw the way your jaw was locked tight enough to break. She knew that if Jake pushed one more time, he wouldn't just be losing a soldie, he’d be losing his daughter forever.
Jake looked at you for a long beat, seeing the warrior he’d demanded and finally realizing how much that warrior hated him. Without another word, he turned and walked out.
For a heartbeat, you stood perfectly still, your ribcage tight as if you were bracing for a physical blow. You thought you had held them back. You thought you had won that battle. But as the adrenaline of the argument ebbed away, a tear escaped. Then another.
You didn't sob. You didn't make a sound. You simply stood there, leaking a pain you weren't allowed to voice.
Neytiri was at your side in an instant. Her hand reached out, her fingers trembling slightly as she tried to catch the moisture on your chin.
"My daughter," she whispered. "Look at me. Do not hide your heart."
You jerked your head away, your movement sharp and jagged. You reached up with the back of your hand, violently wiping your eyes. You wouldn't let the tears fall. You wouldn't let them be real.
"I am fine," you snapped, though the words were thick, caught in the back of a throat that felt like it was closing.
"You are not," Neytiri countered gently, stepping into your line of sight. She saw the glassy sheen you were trying so hard to blink away. "Your father… he sees the strength of the Omatikaya in you but he forgets the spirit of the child. He is wrong to push you this way. Let me speak to him."
"There is nothing to speak of, mother," you said, finally looking at her. "He got what he wanted. He wanted a soldier. He should be happy."
Neytiri opened her mouth to reach for you again, her heart breaking at the sight of her daughter, once so bubbly and bright, now looking like a veteran of a thousand wars before she had even reached her prime.
"Please, listen to—"
"Hey, TukTuk!" you called out, your voice cracking but firm.
Tuk, who had been huddled near the sleeping mats, looked up with wide eyes. "Get your basket, sis" you told her, your back turned to Neytiri. You couldn't face your mother’s empathy; it was more dangerous than your father’s anger. It made you want to crumble and you couldn't afford to be in pieces. "We are going to the river, like I promised."
Tuk scrambled to her feet, sensing the urgency. She ran to your side, grabbing your hand. Your grip was tight, too tight, but she didn't complain.
"We will talk when you return," Neytiri said, her voice trailing you to the entrance.
You didn't look back. You just walked out, pulling Tuk along, your head held high and your jaw locked. You kept your eyes fixed on the path ahead, refusing to let the forest see you cry.
-
Days later, a scouting mission had gone wrong in seconds. An RDA patrol had pushed deeper than expected and you had stayed behind to cover the retreat of the younger hunters.
You didn't feel the sting of the bullet at first. You weren't aware of the amount of blood you had lost. It was only when you tried to leap for a high branch that your leg buckled, the world tilting violently. You crashed through the canopy, the jagged branches tearing at your skin before you hit the forest floor with a sickening thud.
Blood began to soak into the moss beneath you. You tried to reach for your knife but your arm felt like lead.
Heavy footsteps thudded nearby. Then, a shadow blocked out the dappled sunlight. Jake.
He skidded to a halt, his face goind pale. He dropped his rifle, his hands hovering over the jagged wound in your side. "Hey, hey, look at me. Look at me, babygirl. Stay with me."
You looked up at him, your vision blurring at the edges. A weak, bitter smile twitched at your lips.
"I-I think I lost a lot of blood, dad" you whispered. "I shouldn't- I..."
Unadulterated terror broke in his eyes. "Stop talking, you're okay... We're getting you out of here."
As he lifted you, the pain finally surged, a wave that drowned out his voice. Your head hit his shoulder and the world went black.
-
"She is a child, Jake!" Neytiri’s voice was a serrated blade, echoing through the healing circle.
"She’s a warrior! She stayed back because that’s what she was trained to do!" Jake yelled back, though his voice sounded desperate.
Neytiri hissed, her fangs bared.. "You did what a commander does. You did not do what a father does."
"There’s no difference out there! If she isn't sharp, she dies!"
"And what of her spirit, Jake?" Neytiri stepped into his space, her eyes flashing. "You have carved away everything that made her her."
Jake turned away. "She’s the best scout I have. I needed her to be focused."
"She is not a scout! She is your daughter. I see the looks you give to her. You look at Kiri and see a flower and you look at her and see a spear."
"That's not fair," Jake groaned, his head dropping.
"It is the truth. You hardened her until she stopped coming to you for comfort. You pushed her until she stopped smiling." Neytiri pointed at your unconscious form. "She did not stay behind to be a hero, Jake. She stayed because she thinks her only value to you is how well she can bleed for the clan."
Jake went silent, the weight of her words finally sinking in like a lead weight. When you finally opened your eyes, the pain was a dull throb. Jake was there, sitting by your side. He looked smaller than usual, his broad shoulders slumped.
"Hey," he whispered, seeing you stir.
You looked at him and for the first time you didn't hide the emptiness. "Did the scouts make it back, Sir?"
Jake winced. "Stop that. Call me Dad. Please."
"Dad is for the daughters who get to stay home and pick shells," you said, your voice cracking. "I'm just a warrior you trained."
"You’re not a thing, baby," he said, his voice breaking. He reached out, and when you tried to pull away, he gently caught your hand. He held it like it was the most fragile thing in Pandora.
"I was so scared when I found you," he choked out, leaning forward until his forehead rested against the edge of your mat. "I realized I’ve been so busy making sure you could survive the world that I forgot to make sure you wanted to live in it."
He looked up, his eyes wet. "I don't want a warrior. I want my girl back. I want the girl who used to jump on my back and tell me stories. I’m sorry. I am so, so sorry."
The wall you had built shattered. You let out a jagged sob, the first real sound of emotion you’d made in months.
Jake immediately moved, carefully pulling you into his chest, mindful of your bandages. He tucked your head under his chin, rocking you slightly.
"I've got you," he murmured, his hand stroking your hair. "I'm sorry. No more training for a long time. No more ridge patrols. Just us."
"Can I just... stay home with Tuk tomorrow?" you sniffled into his shoulder.
Jake let out a watery smile, kissing the top of your head. "You can stay home as long as you want. I’ll even let you win at the shell game. I love you, kiddo. So much."
First sketch in my new horizontal sketchbook – and yeah, I actually used a pencil this time (which is rare for me, I usually go straight in with a pen). I’ll probably turn this into a digital version later.
It’s a thanator (palulukan) – my favorite creature from the Avatar universe 💙
