⌗ 𝓬hoso kamo misses being your good boy ! (◞‸ ◟) ex!choso, masturbation, phone sex, orgasm denial, pathetic!choso, mommy kink, pet names (baby)
your phone buzzing insistently on the wooden nightstand next your bed is what woke you— not that you ever really fell asleep.
honestly, you were relived to have someone calling you, someone to talk to as an alternative to laying in bed awake, alone with your thoughts. but that soon changed when you saw who was ringing you this late.
'choso (DO NOT ANSWER)'
"what the fuck..." you murmured curses under your breath, exhausted with your ex-boyfriend constantly breaking that 'no contact' rule he hates so fucking much.
you can't count how many times he's interrupted your newly single life by spamming you with texts (needy, pathetic texts) begging you to come back to him, to give him another chance, that he can't live without you. such bullshit, you thought.
but, you knew declining his call would only lead to more. and yes, you couldn't bring yourself to block him, no matter how much he annoyed you. your thumb hits the green answer button, the audio playing out on speaker.
"what, choso?" the tone of your voice is short, perpetually exhausted with his constant pleading.
he's actually surprised you answered, a shocked, breathy, and whiny "b-baby?" coming from the other line.
god, he's so relived to hear your voice. he'd been replaying old voice messages or videos with that sweet, soothing, sultry-smooth voice he loves more than anything. the same voice that would lull him to sleep, coo at him and tell him what a good boy he is. he misses you so fucking much.
you're already over this phone call, ready to hang up and shove your face back into the pillow, until you hear that familiar, needy whimper. the whimper you'd pull from him after jerking him off until the point of tears.
you immediately scoff, "you're pathetic." you spit into the phone's microphone, "what the fuck did you call me for– t-to jerk off?!" your voice twists in disgust, the lewd sounds coming from the other side never halting.
"n-no baby, god–!" he gasps, his fist pumping his flushed leaking cock to the sound of your words, even if they are insulting. it's the first time you've spoken to him in weeks. "jus' missed you mah– mommy-" he chokes out, the slick sound of his cock being stroked continued.
"don't call me that, cho" the nickname slipped from your lips before you could catch it, you were too busy getting onto him anyways. "you can fuck your fist all you want, just don't do it on the phone with me you fucking creep!" you sighed deeply, rubbing your temples in some attempt to push away the image of his body covered in a sheen of sweat, slim hips bucking up into his hand. fuck.
"pleaseplease– m'sorry mommy i jus'– his sentence cut off with a soft moan, you could imagine he's getting off from you talking down to him. it's nothing new. you probably shouldn't entertain this, but you just can't help yourself.
"just what, choso?" you huff, "you want me to tell you you're my good boy?" your voice is undeniably teasing, but he's too fucked out to notice.
he immediately gasps, hand speeding up against his shaft messily. "ohmygod– yes!" he whines into the microphone.
"yeah? mommy's good boy?" the words slinked from your lips, so inviting, and so comforting to him. he misses when your hand would roam his body, whispering into his ear calling him that. again, he misses you.
he made a noise between a sob and a moan, you could hear his head lolling back against his headboard with a dull 'thunk'. he's close, you can tell. "mommy– hah– please, need to–"
you cut him off, "don't cum." you're commanding him, because you know he always listens to you. whatever you want.
choso fully sobbed now, every syllable falling from his lips coated in lust and aching need. "why–" he cried. the image of pathetic tears swimming in his eyes goes straight to your core.
"because, cho," you sat up in bed, running a hand across your jaw and sighing, "i'm gonna come over there and make you cum, okay?" he could tell you didn't mean this in a nice way, you meant it in a overstimulate him until he's begging you to stop way. and fuck, if that doesn't make him throb. all he can think about is your hands on him, he doesn't mind the pain if it means he can have you to himself again.
"fuuuck– o-okay mommy, i'll wait" he nods compliantly, grip on his phone so tight he's surprised it hasn't shattered. he just hopes he gets to hold you afterwards. your voice interrupts his thoughts, honey smooth and praising.
sneaking up behind your husband naoya and planting a smooch on the sensitive nape of his neck, just for him bristle like a jumpy cat. he whips around, snarling, “what the fuck was that?”… later on, right in the thick of systematically destroying your guts, his large hand migrates from groping your tits to wrapping around your windpipe, giving it an absent squeeze as he luxuriates in the feeling of your cunt milking him. gently, he brushes your sweat-damp hair aside, before sinking his teeth vindictively into that exact same spot on your neck. petty ass bitch that he is.
enjin who loves spelling his name against your clit at any time possible
when he's circling your clit with his fingers, he's spelling his name
when he's eating you out like he's gonna die if he doesn't, his tongue swirls each letter over and over again
before he slips his cock into you, he's slapping his tip against you before groaning as he messily writes out e.....n.....j.....i.....n....and popping his tip in with a choked curse
he really, really likes knowing that you're alllll his.
SYNOPSIS Enjin didn’t know you were hiding all that under your somewhat baggy cleaner‘s uniform until one day August gets a new whiff of inspiration to cook you up the possibly hottest uniform among the cleaners yet.
CONTENT nsfw / fluff / sexual tension / porn with plot / resolved sexual tension / mutual pining / slow burn / friends to lovers / coworkers to lovers / service top!enjin / praise kink / submissive reader / cursing / oral f!receiving / fingering / sadist!enjin if you squint
A couple cigarettes. The rush of tearing a trash beast apart piece by piece. The relief of a joint right after. Hitting up his favorite local spots at the end of a workday, surrounding himself with gorgeous women who couldn’t deny the fact that he, too, was quite the specimen himself.
Simple.
Once you joined the Cleaners, he’d been ecstatic to finally share the burden that was being in your twenties while babysitting a bunch of brain-wrecked teenagers.
For the first time in a while, he had room to breathe—time to indulge, and not just in stolen moments.
He could prep joints at night for the next day. Take long baths. Hook up with strangers. Stumble back home high out of his mind at bonkers hours in the morning.
He wasn’t above sharing his pleasures, either. He’d invite his adult coworkers to go out with him from time to time.
Gris usually took him up on it if his day had been particularly rough—especially after some heavy trash-beast ass-kicking.
Semiu, on the other hand, decided on a whim whether she felt like tagging along or not.
As for Zanka, Enjin was already looking forward to the day he’d be old enough to become a potential drinking buddy. Fingers crossed.
He’d even invited you along a couple of times as well, only to learn—pretty quickly—that you were more of a domestic soul. You liked taking care of yourself in your room during your spare time, doing chores, sticking to your own quiet routines and little rituals.
You spent a good chunk of your time tending to your vital instrument. Other than that, you just… existed among the residents. Easy. Steady. Reliable.
He exhaled slowly, letting the tensions of the day roll off him as his thoughts drifted towards the night ahead, an unlit cigarette sitting between his lips. The places he might go, the people he might see, the things he might do.
His steps echoed through the atmosphere of low humming halls. It was easy to slip into autopilot, leave monotone routine behind—as monotone as his job could get, really— and trade it all for the simple pleasures waiting outside.
Enjin had already clocked out in his head. Cigarette, street air, somewhere loud—he was halfway there when August’s voice tore through the hall.
“IT’S DONE! HAHA! I DID IT!”
Enjin stopped. Clicked his tongue. Figures. Nothing out of the ordinary. He put his foot in front of the other.
Then August yelled your name.
The lighter stayed in Enjin’s pocket. Instinctively, he turned back around to watch the scene unfold in front of him.
You appeared like you always did — clothes draping over you like they were just a size too big, hair half-tamed (much like you).
Mildly tired, mildly irritated, yet entirely unbothered by the chaos that was August himself. He leaned back against the doorframe behind him, eyes following the way you yanked the fabric out of August’s hands.
“On my fucking life,” you groaned. “Why’re you yelling? M’right here.”
“Wow, you’re so fun and energized,” Enjin chimed in, as sarcastic as he was relaxed.
You shot him a look — flat, unimpressed. He grinned anyway, like he’d just won a prize, or something. “You asked for a new uniform?”
“Not really,”—you held the clothes up to get an impression—“he just said he’d make me one ‘cause he felt inspired, so I let him.”
He couldn’t help but notice the fabric of the new uniform— or rather, the lack thereof.
Enjin then realized, distantly, that he’d never really thought about what you looked like under your layers of much too oversized clothes.
The sweaters swallowed you whole, the pants hung low and loose, and somewhere along the line his brain had filed you away as safe. Familiar.
Not something to think about.
“August,” you said, turning the scraps of fabric over in your hands, brows knitting together, “are you sure this is for me? This is so not what I’d usually wear.”
Enjin almost agreed out loud. Almost. It didn’t match you—not the way he knew you, anyway.
You were all soft edges and practical comfort, huge sleeves and borrowed pants, a presence that blended into the space instead of demanding it. This thing looked like it wanted to be noticed.
He should’ve written it off right there, should’ve sided with you and moved on. Instead, he found himself staring a second longer than necessary, curiosity gnawing at him in a way that felt unfamiliar. He wanted—unexpectedly—to see it on you.
Wanted to know what August had seen that he hadn’t. The thought settled in his chest, stubborn, yet not entirely unwelcome.
Enjin was a simple man.
“Are you doubting the gear genius?” He teasingly tilted his head.
“Yeah? How dare you?” August scoffed.
You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose. “I’m not doubting anyone. I’m just saying—this doesn’t really look like something I’d wear.”
August waved you off, already vibrating with confidence. “Just try it on.”
You hesitated for half a second before nodding. “Give me a minute.”
And just like you’d seemed to appear out of nowhere, you were gone again the very next second. The door to your room clicked shut.
Enjin didn’t realize he’d been watching until August lightly elbowed his side, muttering to himself about unique stitching, unmatched genius, and a true artistic vision needing proper time to take shape.
Adjusting his weight against the doorframe, Enjin finally lit the cigarette that had been resting between his lips.
Huh, weird.
He’d seen people change before—hell, had undressed people before, had just been about to go out and find someone to undress again. None of this should have registered.
And yet.
Seconds ticked by, and his mind counted them anyway.
He took a drag. Exhaled. Then did it again. The burned-down bud at the tip of the cigarette fell to the floor in what felt like slow motion.
He shifted again, cigarette now between his fingers, trying to convince himself that now could be the time follow through with his original plan: go out, fool around, return at some ridiculous hour. No obligations. No reason to stick around.
So why weren’t his feet moving?
His gaze drifted toward your closed door. For the briefest moment, he imagined what it might look like. Immediately, he shook his head. He really never thought of you this way.
And yet.
The thought lingered. The thought of you—any way other than your usual comforting, gentle, easy self—refused to disappear. He heard the soft shuffle and toss of clothing behind the door until all that remained was quiet nothing.
He couldn’t lie to himself. He was curious. Whatever pleasures waited outside weren’t going anywhere, and he was entertained enough right where he was—so why force it?
There was no rush. No harm in sticking around a little longer. If nothing else, it gave him an excuse to annoy you about it later.
Another drag. Another exhale. The cigarette was now less than half its original length. A few more inches fell to the floor, slow, unimportant, meaningless.
The lock of your door clicked. And it mattered so much, for some reason.
Enjin’s head tilted, cigarette now forgotten between his lips. He imagined your last couple motions behind that door— a careful tug at a new hem, flatting a creased surface of the fabric, adjusting the fit and drape of certain places. Your hands moving along yourself in a familiar fashion.
Your hands moving along yourself.
And that was new. In spite of all the trouble he usually got up to, he’d never thought of you as a woman before. Not once.
Then, you stepped out.
The uniform fit differently than he expected. On its own, it wasn’t flashy, or anything, but it conformed to your shape in a way that made it undeniable. Attention-seeking. And you…
You made it look effortless.
The seams traced your lines perfectly, moving and folding with you in one fluid motion as if the fabric had been waiting for you.
The uniform was stripped down, tight, and sharp. The skirt hugged your hips, short enough to catch the eye without feeling ridiculous. It was tasteful.
The top clung to your torso in a way that left neither room for more fabric, nor for imagination.
Over it, the cropped jacket—Cleaners’ emblem bold across the back—fit snugly, following your every movement without losing its structure.
And the boots—chunky, scuffed, ready for anything—grounded you in a way that made the whole thing feel both dangerous and effortless.
And what shouldn’t have mattered suddenly mattered so much. Because, fuck… you were hot.
Every little shift you made—a tilt of your head, a small tug at the hem, the way the fabric moved with you—kept catching his attention. He bit the inside of his cheek. Ain’t no way you’d been burying all that under those layers.
And yet.
Something in him knew better. Your figure fit the style of the uniform perfectly. Natural. Balanced. Built in all the right places. That shouldn’t matter. And still, it did. His pulse ticked a little faster, and he kind of hated that he noticed.
What he was most shocked to have to face was the fact that you were pretty much exactly what he imagined whenever he thought of an ideal type.
His lungs tightened. Not from desire—at least, not fully. Fascination, awareness, intrigue—all tangled together. The version of you he’d filed away as “safe, familiar” no longer fit. Something was… different.
You glanced at him, eyebrows raised, waiting for judgment. Approval. Anything.
He exhaled slowly, smoke he’d forgotten in his lungs curling upwards past his curious eyes. “Fits,” he said, voice low and casual, as though he was trying to convince himself he hadn’t been holding his breath for the past couple seconds.
You blinked, then tilted your head to look down at yourself. “Yeah… I guess so.”
Neither of you moved. The hall felt quieter, smaller, like any sudden movement could cause him to bump into you. August had gone silent as well, half inspecting his work, half sensing the shift in the air without caring to pinpoint the energy.
Whether or not you had realized it, that was up for debate.
Enjin took another long drag. Exhaled. Hoping the smoke would create a barrier between him and your form.
It was then, that he realized it wasn’t just the uniform that mattered. It was the subtle shift in you, the way you carried yourself differently, the unfamiliar side of you quietly asserting itself—and him noticing, no pretending otherwise.
Your back straightened, chest lifted ever so slightly—oh, fuck—and the natural sway of your hips whenever you shifted your weight had him chasing after his own breath.
“Honestly,” you spoke, smoothing the fabric of your skirt over your hips, “I thought this would be uncomfortable, but… it’s really not. I do actually like it.”
“TOLD YA! I’M A GENIUS!” August screamed, dancing with wild pride.
Enjin couldn’t help but simply stare. An involuntary smirk grazed his features. “Yeah… you are a genius.”
He was a simple man with simple needs.
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By the time the last trash beast went down, you’d forgotten what it felt like to wear anything else.
Given the nature of your fighting, bruises were inevitable—something you hadn’t even considered when you first received the outfit. Now, black-and-blue marks bloomed along your legs, stretching from mid-thigh all the way down.
It was a sight quite familiar to you, the difference being that—with your new uniform— it was visible to everyone around you as well.
You were going to have to do something about that.
The adrenaline hadn’t quite worn off yet. Your limbs buzzed from all the movement, body feeling hot and fuzzy. You shifted your weight from one leg to the other in pursuit of some sort of relief for each limb.
And in spite of all your movements, the pieces of clothing hadn’t shifted in any unwanted way. No hems to adjust, no creases to smooth over. Nothing. The uniform didn’t just cling to your body—it practically felt molded to your physique.
You hadn’t had to think about it once during the fight, which, honestly, was the highest compliment you could pay to the resident “gear genius” who had so carefully tailored it to your needs.
You glanced over at Enjin, who seemed to be in a similar state as you. Chest heaving, skin dusted with the thinnest layer of sweat and grime.
He leaned back slightly, the ever-present teasing grin tugging at his lips—a feature that somehow only grew more pronounced after a good fight at the edge of the No Man’s Lands.
He put most of his weight onto his dear umbrella as his gaze flickered towards your form. You caught it flicking down for a split second—a questioning twitch in his lip, a curious squint of his eye—and then back up.
“Don’t start,” you said, already anticipating a comment about the state of your legs.
“Wasn’t gonna,” he replied easily, his hands up in defense and then catching Umbreaker just in time before it fell over. Then, after a beat, “You took quite a hit back there, though.”
“Well,” you looked down to properly inspect the spots this time. The bruises blossomed mostly in the areas around and on your knees, though your shins weren’t exempt of the hues of color. Frankly, it looked like it usually did. “Comes with the job.”
“Huh,” his gaze flickered down again, lingering long enough for you to take note of it. “You always bruise like that?”
“Pretty much?” You responded, putting one leg behind the other, as if it was going to do anything to hide it. “Legs usually take the worst of it.”
“Figures.” he responded, lifting a joint to his lips—his habitual celebration joint, as you’ve come to learn about him.
His attention to your legs lingered just a second longer than you’d expected it to, before focusing on lighting the end of the blunt with his lighter.
“You know,” he teased as the fire finally caught, then dropping his lighter back in his pocket, “the amount you bruise in a day feels like the amount I take in like, what, two weeks?”
“Wow, you’re so cool for that,” you shot back—unimpressed, sarcastic. “Is this your way of telling me to be more careful?”
“Nah,” he smirked, taking a drag of his joint and exhaling the smoke, a relaxed groan escaping along with it. “You handle yourself just fine.”
That earned him a look. “High praise.”
“Don’t get used to it.” he retorted, a challenging expression adorning his sharp features.
“Aw, why not?” You finally took a moment to stretch.
Hands pressed together, you reached overhead, trying to ease the tension built up in your back during the fight. Even as you moved, you couldn’t help but notice the hem of your top riding up just slightly—enough to follow your motion comfortably, never restrictive, never bothersome.
It was honestly impressive.
When your arms dropped back to your sides, you caught the faintest flicker of movement out of the corner of your eye—and for a moment, it felt like Enjin’s gaze was still following you. Just for a heartbeat, though.
“What’s up with you today?”
“Huh?” A cloud of smoke tore through his lips. “What do you mean?”
“You’re, like, looking at me all the time,” you said, resting a hand on your hip. “What’s up with that?”
“I’m not.” He scoffed, taking another drag, huffing little smoke circles and watching them disappear into the air.
You rolled your eyes. “You are, though.”
“No, I’m not.”
“You totally are.”
“Yeah,” he admitted, shooting you a hopelessly charming smile, eyes shamelessly flicking down and back up your figure. “Maybe a bit.”
Unfortunately for you, his charms didn’t leave you entirely unaffected.
You couldn’t help it. Anyone with working eyes knew exactly that Enjin was the unfortunate epitome of attraction.
The sharp line of his jaw catching the light as he tilted his head, the way smoke curled lazily from his lips, forming all sorts of organic shapes before vanishing into the air.
The collar of his shirt revealing the ink nestled underneath his skin, curving alongside his neck, giving him this edge that somehow fit that permanent teasing expression he always wore.
You shook your head slightly, trying to tell yourself it didn’t mean anything. But your pulse had its own opinion, quickening with the small, easy awareness of him in front of you.
But no. This guy was more than likely carrying a choker filled to the brim with booty calls. There was no reason for him to be paying you that kind of attention, especially since he usually didn’t.
Something you’d always been painfully aware of, to your dismay.
“Whatever,” you muttered, more to yourself than him. “Can you drive?”
“Why?” he grinned. “‘Cause your legs are busted?”
“You’re so funny today,” you mustered the most obnoxious fake-laugh you were capable of. “No, genius. I’m asking, because you’re high.”
“That would certainly be a valid concern,”—he took another taunting drag—“if you weren’t talking to me right now.”
“Silly me,”you said, not-so-subtle sarcasm yet to unlace from your voice. “No, but really.”
You walked past him toward the off-roader, unable to hide the little bounce in your step—half from the lingering adrenaline still coursing through your veins, half from the excitement you felt at the prospect of returning back to your base—home.
Heavy steps followed you until you both slid into the vehicle, him in the driver’s seat.
“I’ve done wilder things stoned,” he scoffed, playfully rolling his eyes as he inserted the key into the ignition.
“Like what?” You asked, getting comfortable in your seat.
“Wouldn’t you like to know.”
“You’re so insufferable sometimes.” you sighed, shooting him a displeased look. “Just focus on the road.”
He smiled, eyes meeting yours as if to admit guilt. “No promises.”
His fingers moved quickly over the keys, firing up the engine before shifting gears and getting the car rolling.
“Buckle up, princess,” he said. “Just ‘cause your legs are bruised doesn’t mean I’ll be slowing down any time soon.”
The little nickname definitely didn’t go unnoticed by you—as well as the double innuendo, which wasn’t out of the ordinary for him—though you felt too something to really comment on it.
“Don’t you worry about my legs,” you shot back, trying for a casual tone. “Not like I’m made of sugar or something.”
He smirked to himself, taking a last long drag of the joint before flicking it out the window. “Good to know.”
You caught him muttering something under his breath—more to himself than to you—but decided to let it slide. Your pulse still hadn’t quite settled—whether that was from the fight or due to certain body-modded men within your vicinity was something you chose not to worry about— and honestly, you didn’t really feel like picking fights, anyway.
The motor rumbled beneath you as the off-roader stumbled over the uneven ground of the No Man’s Land, gradually leaving the chaos behind. The road began to flatten with each passing mile, though the ride already felt surprisingly smooth—especially considering it was Enjin behind the wheel right now.
You kept your hands folded in your lap. Your gaze kept wandering between the trash-ridden landscape — a rather unpleasant sight — and, of course, him — an admittedly rather pleasant side.
Despite every warning you’d given yourself, despite every attempt to keep your guard up, he slipped past it effortlessly. He didn’t need your consent to get under your skin—and you couldn’t really help letting him, either. He was just good at getting people’s guard down—at least among the Cleaners.
Or maybe it was just you.
Your gaze drifted back to him, more often than you cared to admit. His side profile looked sharper and even more defined against the warm rays of a setting sun kissing his dirt-ridden skin.
It was honestly a bit annoying how attractive he was.
You mentally traced the patterns of the tattoos disappearing beneath the nick of his shirt, wondering about the way they might continue. Your focus drifted towards the flex of his strong hands on the wheel, covered in similar shapes—how did they curl under his sleeves?
You shifted in your seat, throwing one leg over the other, and felt the faint sting of bruises along the length of your legs. Nothing severe, but enough to remind you that your fight hadn’t been gentle.
You flexed them subtly under the skirt of your uniform, partly to stretch, partly out of curiosity, playing a quiet game of “how long before it hurts too much”. Of course, it never got to that point. It’s just some light bruising.
He glanced at you then, out of the corner of his eye, and his smirk widened just slightly, like he knew about the silly game you were playing in your head to entertain yourself. A small quirk of his eyebrow, a tilt of the head—it was enough to make your chest tighten, though you pretended (miserably) to focus on your legs instead.
“So,” he said, voice casual but teasing, “you planning on sitting there looking broody all the way back, or are we gonna talk?”
You let out a soft breath, shoulders sinking into the seat. “I’ll be honest… I’m kind of tired.”
“I was wondering when you’d say that.” His tone softened, the teasing thinning out. “You can sleep, if you wanna. I’ll wake your ass at HQ.”
“Mm,” you hummed, eyelids already heavier than you’d realized. “Sounds good.”
“I’ll wake you up good,” he added lightly. “Get Delmon to hose you down.”
One eye cracked open. “Okay. I’m not sleeping.”
He huffed a quiet laugh. “I’m kidding.” A pause. Then, softer, more genuine: “I’ll wake you up real gentle. Promise. Get some rest.”
The hum of the engine filled the space between you. The road stretched ahead, steady and uneventful.
You shifted slightly, adjusting against the seat, legs stretching out a little more carefully this time. Your head tipped back. The exhaustion wasn’t dramatic — just the slow kind that settled into your bones after a long day.
You felt it before you saw it — his hand adjusting the climate dial so the air wouldn’t blow directly at you. The smallest thing. Almost nothing.
But not nothing.
Your eyes fluttered closed.
The last thing you registered was the faint sound of him muttering under his breath — something about how easily you wear yourself out — and the way the vehicle seemed to move just a little smoother than before.
You were asleep before you even realized it.
─────────୨ৎ─────────
The common area was louder than usual—music bleeding from a battered speaker, empty bottles clustering along the tables, the air thick with smoke and laughter. Someone had dragged out a deck of cards, another group arguing loudly over rules that changed every five minutes.
Enjin fit right into it.
He leaned back in his chair, one arm slung over the backrest, a drink balanced loosely in his hand as he laughed along with the others. Easy. Relaxed. This was familiar territory—post-mission chaos, shared exhaustion, celebration for still being alive. The kind of environment he absolutely thrived in.
His eyes roamed the room in a moment that was supposed to be all about appreciating his weird, little family.
And then, they stopped.
You hadn’t made any sort of announcement. No dramatic pause, no random attempt at drawing attention. You just slipped into the room like you always did— quiet, familiar, reliable.
His gaze flickered down before he could stop himself.
The uniform sat on you as disgustingly well as it always did. Skirt hugged you too well, top accentuated your physique, jacket hung loose over your shoulders, sleeves slinging in the air.
He had just gotten somewhat used to seeing you this way. It was supposed to be safe. It should have been safe.
You chose trouble today.
It wasn’t the uniform that threw him off.
It was what you added.
Dark fabric hugged your legs beneath the skirt, reaching high enough to erase the bruises he knew were there. Practical. Sensible.
That, somehow, made it worse.
He knew why you were wearing them. A part of him basked in the fact that he was probably the only person here that knew why you were wearing them, that this was your attempt at hiding your bruises. And, somehow, knowing what it looked like underneath made it that much more… intimate?
Not to mention the way that the plush of your legs perfectly spilled over the hem of the fabric, which was the best part about these types of socks, anyway.
But this was you. Cozy, unchanging, reliable you.
With a single addition to your work attire, you’d managed to take it from blurring the lines of professionalism to… well, overstepping them entirely. At least, in his eyes.
He couldn’t tell if he minded or not. Or he just couldn’t admit the truth to himself.
The card game, the drink in his hand, the music running in the background—all of it faded as he took his sweet time observing you.
He eased back into the loveseat he was occupying, spreading his long legs like he owned the space, as if waiting for you was the most natural thing in the world.
You greeted a few people, checked on the kids at the children’s table, but never seemed to settle in one spot.
And so, he called your name before he could stop himself.
Your head snapped toward him, eyes locking with his as you made your way to the poker table.
“Hey there,” you greeted, arms loosely crossed.
“Hi,” he replied, flashing that infuriating grin. “Sit down. We could use another player.” He shifted over, leaving just enough space for you to slide in, and you did—probably closer than you’d expected—after greeting everyone at the table.
His hand draped over the back of the two-seater, half-encasing your frame. His legs stretched, one brushing the side of your thigh, claiming the space with casual confidence, yet leaving enough for you.
“So… what are we playing?” you asked, voice light, like you were trying not to notice the proximity.
“It’s called Bluffing,” he said, eyes flicking toward you briefly. “Basically, the deck is evenly split among the four of us and we have to place cards in order of Ace to King facedown. The catch: You won’t always have the right card at the right turn.”
“Ah,” you murmured as you took the drink from his hand and sipped, the weight of his gaze lingering on you. “So—you’re gonna have to bluff.”
“Right,” he replied, brow quirking just slightly. “You can place in multiples, though. If you gotta place an Ace and you have two on your hand, you can place both.”
“I see,” you replied, voice casual and airy. “How do you win? Or lose?”
“Oh, yeah—anyone can call a bluff at any point. If you’re right, the person who bluffed gets the entire pile on the table. If you’re wrong, you need to take the pile,” he responded. “Whoever has no cards left wins. You’ll get the hang of it.”
He leaned back slightly, letting his arm drape lazily over the loveseat, the movement deliberate, stretching closer to you without touching… yet. The proximity was ridiculous, and he knew it, and of course, so did you.
He could feel the subtle brush of your leg against his, hear the faint shift as you adjusted your seat, the way your hand lingered on the drink he’d gotten himself.
His mind did a quick double-take, because… damn. You smelled good. Closer than he’d ever been, and now it was impossible to ignore.
Enjin reached for the full deck on the table, shuffling it, before he split the cards evenly between the four of you, movements smooth and practiced. Cards slid across the table in neat stacks.
“Alright,” he said, glancing around. “Who’s got the Ace of Hearts?”
Everyone checked their hand.
A beat.
“I do.”
His eyes flicked up immediately.
Of course you did.
“Then—you start.”
He leaned back, watching from the corner of his eye as you looked down at your cards. You took just a second too long. Your lips pressed together, like you were holding back a smile.
That was new.
You placed a card face-down.
“Ace of Hearts.”
He didn’t even hesitate.
“Bluff.”
The word came easy. Calm. Certain.
Bro snorted. “Already?”
You turned toward him slowly. “You don’t even know what I put down.”
He tilted his head, studying you openly now. “Don’t need to.”
It wasn’t about the card.
It was the way you sat a little straighter. The way your fingers lingered on the edge of the card a fraction too long. The almost imperceptible satisfaction in your eyes.
You were asking for it, really.
“Flip it,” Delmon urged.
You held Enjin’s gaze for half a second—a silent challenge—before turning the card over.
Six of Hearts.
Bro burst out laughing.
Enjin didn’t. He just smiled—slow and smug—because… well, there it was.
“I knew it,” he said quietly.
“You didn’t know anything.” You rolled your eyes.
He huffed a low laugh. Then, using the arm that wasn't draped casually behind you, he reached down and lightly poked a spot on your leg he knew was bruised. You yelped, just enough to make him grin wider.
Meanwhile, he couldn't help but savor the fact that he was the only one who knew what your legs looked like beneath the thigh highs. It was his way of telling you that—at least in split second—you belonged to him.
“I know you.”
You muttered something under your breath as you took your card back, clearly annoyed—but not really.
“Alright,” he said, settling back again. “Go on.”
You drew in a breath, adjusted your grip on your cards, and this time when you placed one down, your expression was steady. Almost neutral.
“Ace of Hearts—for real this time.”
He watched you carefully.
No lingering. No spark. No tiny flare of pride.
Just calm.
He held the silence for a second longer than necessary—just to make you feel it.
“Alright. Continue.”
Delmon cracked his knuckles. “Two.”
He placed two cards down in a neat stack. No hesitation. No theatrics.
Bro eyed him briefly, but didn’t bite.
“Three,” Bro said next, tossing one card onto the pile with a lazy flick of his wrist.
Stil, no one called anything.
Then it was Enjin’s turn.
He looked down at his hand. The next number was four.
He just so happened to have two.
A small part of him considered holding one back for the next cycle.
He didn’t.
He slid both cards into the center. Calm. Clean.
“Two fours.”
He didn’t look at Delmon.
He didn’t look at Bro.
He looked at you.
Your fingers were still resting on your cards. But he saw it — that tiny shift in your posture. The way your shoulders squared. The way your eyes flicked to the pile and then back to him.
You were thinking. Good.
He leaned back slightly, arm still draped along the seat behind you.
“You gonna call it?” he asked lightly.
Delmon scoffed. “Here we go.”
Enjin ignored him.
His gaze stayed on you—not challenging. Just steady.
He wasn’t bluffing. But he almost hoped you thought he was.
For the most part, you upheld the eye-contact—eyes flicking towards the cards in his hand from time to time, as if questioning the legitimacy of them.
“I wanted to,” you murmured, eyes flicking toward him, wary, “but… now that you want me to call it, I won’t.”
Enjin huffed a laugh.
“Fair enough. Your turn.”
You placed your three cards with a smile. “Five.”
Delmon’s brow furrowed as he eyed the pile.
“Bluff,” he finally muttered, leaning forward, elbows now resting on his knees.
You blinked, keeping your expression calm. “Oh?”
Enjin watched from his spot, leaning back slightly, arm still stretched behind you, smirk tugging at his lips. He didn’t need to see your cards to know what was coming.
“You sure about that?” Enjin asked lightly, just loud enough for the table to hear. His voice carried a teasing edge, though he kept his own cards close.
Delmon hesitated for a heartbeat, then nodded. “What are the odds of having three fives on your hand? I’m calling it.”
You flipped your first card — five. Then the second — five. And the third… five.
It was true.
Delmon froze, eyes widening as realization hit. “Huh?”
You leaned slightly toward the center of the table, a faint, triumphant smile tugging at your lips, sliding the small pile towards him. “There you go.”
Enjin’s gaze lingered on you, amusement and something warmer flickering in his chest. You weren’t even aware of the way you’d slid closer, your side almost fully pressed against him.
He felt a soft nudge against his chest — your shoulder lightly stabbing into him. He didn’t move. He could feel the warmth radiating from you, the faint brush of your side against his, and the subtle weight of your presence.
He looked down at you, catching your eyes before you looked away. The next second, you muttered something under your breath, too faint to carry over the pounding bass from the speakers. Enjin might have only noticed because—well—he'd just been looking at your lips anyway.
An idea struck him.
As if the proximity weren't already enough, he inched closer, letting his body press lightly against yours as he
leaned down, silently signaling that you should repeat yourself.
His arm draped over you more than it did over the seat, head tilted ever so slightly as his gaze locked with
yours, faces just inches apart—a challenge you were doomed to fail. He caught the brief flicker of your eyes
down toward his lap, though you didn't pull back.
He caught your gaze again, right as your pretty lips began to part. “I just asked if we start from ace again,” you spoke, almost in a whisper.
“No,” he replied, voice casual, but he couldn’t help the small smile tugging at his lips. “Next is six.”
You fit against him perfectly, your frame settling into the dip of the cushions at his side, curves aligning just so. You seemed comfortable there, either unaware of how close you’d slipped toward him or simply finding it as natural as he did.
Everyone eyes shifted to Delmon now that it was his turn. He placed one card down. “Six.”
Right after, Bro laid down a seven. Supposedly.
The turn circled back to him.
Enjin looked at his hand. Not a single eight. It was time to bluff. No big deal.
He slid two cards into the pile, careful, measured. “Eight,” voice calm, almost casual. Not rushed, not nervous—just like always. He let his gaze flick toward you out of the corner of his eye. The way you were watching him, that slight narrowing of your eyes.
“Bluff,” you said, quiet, steady, like it wasn’t a guess—like you already knew.
He froze just for a fraction of a second, more amused than concerned.
“You think so?” he murmured lightly, leaning into the seat a little more. Not defensive. Not worried. Just curious what you’d do.
You held his gaze, unwavering. Calm. Confident.
Enjin exhaled slowly, sliding the pile toward himself. “Alright, fine,” he said under his breath, the faintest smirk tugging at his lips. “You got me.”
He was just flattered to know you’d watched him so intently.
“Damn,” Bro sighed, hand on the back of his neck. “You guys are really good at this.”
Enjin hums. “Yeah,” he says. “Something like that.”
Minutes passed, then stretched into what felt like hours. The pile grew steadily, now close to a quarter of the deck, and no one could afford to lose. Yet somehow, bluffs hadn’t been called in forever.
“You’re taking forever,” you groaned, tapping your cards lightly, fidgeting.
“I’m thinking,” he replied evenly, though the tiniest twitch of a smile betrayed him.
“Thinking about what—bluffing?”
“Wanna call it? I dare you.”
He glanced at his cards, then back at you, then back at his hand, before cautiously sliding a ten onto the ever-growing pile.
“One king.”
It was intense.
“You’ve got to be lying, man!” Delmon exclaimed, eyes fixed on the pile as if staring harder would reveal the truth.
“Okay, call it then. See what happens.” His empty threat earned groans all around—Bro rubbing his forehead in frustration, Delmon gripping his knees like he needed an anchor. And you… still. Too still. Still in a tense way, like you were frozen in time.
He didn’t know if it was reflex, instinct, or just a quiet urge, but his hand had started tracing lazy shapes along your shoulder. You seemed to relax into it, even if only slightly, and he was quietly glad to be of some comfort.
It also seemed to distract you from the game, which was a bonus.
It was your turn now. The pile demanded an Ace.
You picked a card and slid it onto the pile, voice even, airy. “An Ace.”
His eyes narrowed just slightly. He could tell.
The way your fingers lingered on the card before letting it go, the tiny pause in your voice, the way your gaze flicked to him and then quickly away—you weren’t enjoying the lie as much as you should have been.
He considered calling it. Just for a moment.
But he couldn’t bring himself to let the pile crash down on you.
He leaned back just slightly, letting his gaze rest on you for a beat longer than necessary, noting the faint lift of your chest as you exhaled, and the subtle tension easing from your shoulders. Not because he needed to, not because he wanted to punish you—just because he could.
Just because he liked it.
─────────୨ৎ─────────
You played round after round after that, the hours slipping by unnoticed. The table shifted, drinks were replaced, the music grew louder and then blurred into the background.
By the time the night began to thin out, he’d walked you through the halls and left you at your door, talking about nothing and everything at once—recent expeditions, Rudo’s progress, who had handled the trash beasts better on the last mission (obviously you). You said your goodbyes like you hadn’t half-sat in his lap just moments earlier.
And you just couldn’t shake the thought of him.
His lingering looks.
That honeyed tone to his voice.
The way his words always seemed to push just enough to see what you’d do with them.
You’ve been trying to catch sleep for a couple hours, but the phantom sensation of his finger lazily tracing circles into your shoulder hadn’t faded. Neither had the warmth of his body pressed against yours, or the image of his sharp, calloused hands working the deck.
You groaned into your pillow, kicking your feet against the mattress (which was dumb, because your legs still hadn’t recovered—it hurt really bad).
This was frustrating.
Even now, your body felt as though it was running just as hot as it had when pressed right against the side of his hard chest. Tingles ran over every bit of skin that touched him. Your thoughts wandered places you usually always tried to keep them from and you were failing miserably tonight.
His naked, inked skin.
His strong, broad frame.
His stupid hot fucking smile.
The way his hands would feel…
You’d usually always been able to handle him, but something was just different this time.
This wasn’t the same old big-ego Enjin. It was him threading himself into your thoughts, somehow playing with the pace of your heartbeat, the temperature of your skin, the electric feeling in your stomach.
Sleeping was pointless. You were lucky you had nowhere to be in the morning.
Maybe you should take a shower.
You begrudgingly lifted your face from the squished pillow and pushed yourself up, heading to grab a change of clothes before shuffling toward the bathroom.
By the time you reached it, your resolve had wavered enough that you didn’t even bother shutting the door fully before peeling off your sleep shirt, carelessly throwing it onto your pile of laundry you had yet to find a day to tackle.
The water felt relieving against your skin. Today felt like the kind of day that justified turning it really hot—which Enjin always hated, since it usually meant a cold, miserable shower for him the next morning. After tonight, you figured he kind of deserved it.
If he was going to occupy your thoughts, you were claiming the hot water.
The sensation of the water running down your body seemed to numb the pain in your legs, but it did little to wash away the feeling of his skin pressed against yours—because of course it wouldn’t. This wasn’t a physical sensation, it was him in your head.
You turned the temperature up a notch.
It burned, but it felt good.
Single droplets pierced you like hot needles—a type of pain you actually welcomed. All the tension of the day seemed to wash off your body, disappearing down the drain along with the water.
You could stay here for hours, maybe even fall asleep like this. All your senses felt cut off from the outside world, with no room for any unwanted thoughts. Just the unbearably hot water, close enough to feel endless.
And then, there was a beep.
You froze. You hadn’t taken your choker off yet.
Someone was calling.
You feared you knew exactly who.
“Enjin, what the fuck? It’s, like, 1 a.m.!” you whisper-shouted, covering the choker as best you could with your hand, as though that was going to shield you in any way.
“Huh? It’s almost 3. And I can hear you,” he replied.
“Yeah, I know, we’re in a call!” you said, exasperated.
“No, like… I can hear your shower,” he clarified, a faint chuckle in his tone.
“And you thought it’d be a good idea to call me in the shower?”
“You picked up, didn’t you?” His grin practically radiated through the call.
What you hated most in this moment wasn’t that he called—it was the fact that you were excited about it.
And the fact that he was right.
“You don’t even know how hot my shower is running right now.” you challenged him, hoping to get him right where you knew it hurt.
“That’s fucked up,” he laughed, like he wasn’t taking you seriously at all. “Just to tick me off? Or you just felt like showering hot?”
“I don’t have to answer that.” you mumbled, reaching for the shampoo bottle.
“And that says so much,” he replied. “Why’re you taking a shower in the middle of the night? Didn’t you say you were tired?”
“I was tired,” you admitted, letting the water cascade over your shoulders. “I just couldn’t fall asleep.”
“Mm, same,” he replied. “It’s kind of your fault for turning on the shower, though.”
“Thats on you.” And you regretted these words the moment they escaped your lips.
“What’d I do?”
Because what were you even going to tell him? That you couldn’t stop thinking about how good he smelled? That you wished his arm had fully encased you? That you actually kind of liked it when he pressed down on your bruises? That just thinking about any of it made your body react in ways you could never, ever admit out loud?
“I just don’t like you.” you muttered, scrubbing shampoo into your hair, trying to keep your voice even.
“I know that’s not true, sweetheart,” he said, his smile as audible as ever through the line.
Again with that pet name.
“I’m just gonna stop talking.”
“You could also just hang up.”
“Why don’t you hang up?
“I don’t want to,” he chuckled lowly. “I feel like you don’t really want to stop talking, either.”
You heard him shuffle on his end of the line—things cluttering and moving around.
“You’re very confident in yourself.”
“Hang up, then.”
You didn’t reply. You didn’t hang up, either.
“Thought so,” he murmured with a faint exhale—was he smoking?—“Wanna come over?”
“What. Now?”
“Yeah. Or, you know what?” The sound of shifting feet, a quiet grunt. “I’m coming over.”
Your fingers clenched slightly around the shampoo bottle, as if it was your lifeline. “I’m in the shower!”
“Well, hurry, my foot’s out the door already.” And the click of his door shutting was, indeed, audible on the other end.
The moment you felt the shampoo rinse completely from your hair, you stepped out of the shower, grabbing the first towel within reach.
“At least wait, like… two minutes,” you said, tugging it tighter around yourself. “Please.”
“But then I’d have to walk all the way back.”
“Our rooms are next to each other!” you shot back, exasperated.
“Yeah… way too far. Damn, you should lock your door.”
“Are you in my room right now?”
“Yes, ma’am,” he replied, as if that settled everything.
“Just wait—sit down somewhere. I’ll be right out.” you replied hurriedly, dropping the towel after drying yourself off and getting into your giant sleep shirt.
Shutting the bathroom door behind you and quickly shuffling your way back to your space, you find him splayed out on your bed, staring at the ceiling—or perhaps following the pattern of the smoke as it rose into the air.
“Well?” he asked, his focus not shifting toward you quite yet. “You gonna keep me waiting?”
You crossed your arms, trying for irritation. “Do I look like I had a choice?”
Then, he spared you a glance, eyeing your frame for a moment. Then two.
He smiled. “You look good.”
You blinked, caught off guard. “Sorry?” you asked.
“You look good.” He met your eyes after letting his attention wander all over you. “Like… really good.”
You shifted on the spot, tugging at the hem of your shirt. “Don’t start with me, Enjin,” you muttered, though a faint warmth had already started spreading through your chest.
“Relax, I’m just messing with you,” he said, propping himself up against the wall. He made space on the mattress, patting the newly free spot as a silent invitation for you to get comfortable.
He brought the blunt to his lips and took a long, unhurried drag. You could practically see the smoke fill his lungs, his chest expanding before he leaned his head back slightly and exhaled, the haze curling lazily toward the ceiling. The sound he made—low, pleased—had no business shooting right through you the way it did.
You took a short breath, grounding yourself, then crossed the room and settled into the space he’d made for you. You leaned back against the pillows, angling your legs carefully so they didn’t tangle with his, even though the mattress dip made closeness unavoidable.
When you glanced over, he wasn’t looking at you anymore.
His gaze had gone distant, unfocused, like he’d drifted somewhere else entirely as the drug settled in. For a moment, you just watched him—his relaxed posture, the faint rise and fall of his chest, the way the smoke still lingered around him.
The thought that he looked kind of ethereal quietly passed your mind.
Then, with the slightest tilt of his head, his eyes found yours again.
“Wanna try?” he asked, holding the blunt out toward you. You blinked. Once. Twice.
“What—smoking?” you echoed.
“Yeah.” His smile was lazy, unpressuring. “You don’t have to.”
You hesitated. You’d never really felt the urge before—never saw the appeal. Still, curiosity nudged at you, persistent and annoying.
“…If you teach me?”
Something softened in his expression, just briefly, before a faint smile took over.
“Of course, sweetheart.”
He held it closer, waiting. You took it carefully, immediately aware of how little you knew about what to do with it. You’d seen people smoke before, sure—but holding it yourself felt strangely intimidating. For something so small, it suddenly felt like it carried a lot of weight.
And you were supposed to breathe that in?
“It’s pretty intuitive,” he said, watching you with open amusement. “Just don’t inhale too deeply.”
“That’s your instructions?”
“To be fair,” he chuckled, lifting his hands in lazy defense, “you’re probably gonna start coughing anyway. Just a heads up.”
Your eyes rolled on instinct.
You studied the blunt like it might give you some sort of guidance if you stared long enough. Then you brought it to your lips and took a tentative inhale.
Nothing.
Frowning slightly, you tried again—deeper this time.
Instant regret.
The burn hit fast and sharp, ripping the air straight out of your lungs. You sputtered, coughing hard as smoke escaped in uneven bursts, shoving the blunt back into his hand while you struggled to breathe. You were hunched forward, absolutely wrecked, eyes watering.
Enjin was already laughing beside you, completely unapologetic.
“I told you not too deep,” he said between laughs. “I gave you one instruction.”
You wanted to snap back—had a dozen words lined up—but air still hadn’t fully returned to your lungs, and all you could manage was a glare that only made him grin wider.
“Easy,” he said, laughter still in his voice as he shifted closer. His hand came up to your back, warm and steady, rubbing slow circles between your shoulder blades. “Breathe. I’ve got you.”
He guided you gently back against him, your spine settling against his chest.
You coughed again, sharper this time, eyes stinging as you tried to suck in air that didn’t burn. “You—” you rasped, grounding yourself with a hand on his leg. “You’re evil.”
He hummed, clearly entertained. “Yeah, yeah. Deep breaths. In through your nose. Just like that.”
You did as he said, partly out of necessity, partly because the weight of his hand made it easier. The coughing eased little by little, your chest still tight but no longer on fire.
“There you go,” he murmured, closer now, voice lower. “See? Still alive.”
Without really thinking about it, you leaned back, letting your head rest against him for just a second as you caught your breath. “I hate you,” you muttered—though it came out far less convincing than you meant it to.
His thumb traced a lazy line along your shoulder. “Mhm. I can tell.”
You exhaled sharply, shoulders tense. “You absolutely set me up.”
“I warned you,” he said, lifting the blunt past your frame and bringing it back to his lips. “You just didn’t listen.”
That’s when two things hit you at once.
One—you felt it.
Your thoughts began to loosen in a way they never had before. The constant noise in your head softened, blurred, fading into something distant and manageable.
And two—the position you were in.
Your hand resting on his thigh.
Your back pressed flush against his chest.
His arm lazily draped around you, like you just did this all the time.
It was a dangerous combination. With your thoughts dulled and hazy, you didn’t have the energy to filter your thoughts about how much you actually liked it anymore.
He shifted slightly behind you, just enough that the pressure of his chest against your back deepened, and you felt the subtle weight of his attention resting along the back of your head.
“See?” he murmured, more to himself than you. “Knew you’d feel it.”
You frowned faintly. “Feel what?”
“The quiet,” he said, his finger lightly tapping against your temple. “You stopped fidgeting.”
That caught your attention. You‘d usually try to deny it—but you couldn’t. Your thoughts felt slower. Softer.
He sensed it before you even said anything—the way your breathing evened out, the tension in your shoulders easing, the subtleties of the things you didn’t do—like pulling away, or fighting back.
“Look at you,” he murmured, voice low, almost cooing. “So calm… seriously, this might be the longest stretch you’ve gone without barking at me.”
“Shush,” you muttered, cheeks warming. “M’not calm. N‘ I don’t bark.”
“Sure, baby,” he said, that word curling around your spine. “Whatever you say.”
And you didn’t even have it in you to fully process the new pet name.
His hand found the hem of your shirt, tugging it lightly between his fingers, testing the fabric against your skin. Not enough to pull it up, not enough to be overt—definitely enough for you to notice.
You felt the faint brush of his thumb against your side with each little pull, a whisper of contact that made your stomach tighten.
“You’re kind of comfortable.” you muttered, trying for casual as you pulled your hand back—slowly, like you didn’t want to draw attention to it.
“Only kind of?” he asked, voice easy, almost amused. His fingers flexed once against your side, just enough to be intentional.
“Okay,” you murmured, almost to yourself. “You’re really comfortable.”
“Mm, sure seems like it,” he let out a soft hum. “You feeling tired?”
“No,” you replied, letting your words trail just slightly. The warmth of your body pressed into his was dizzying. “M’just very good right now.”
His hand moved lazily along your side, brushing your hip with an absent-minded care that made your stomach twist. “Mm,” he murmured. “Want me to stay?”
You nodded.
“Okay.”
The room fell into a quiet that wasn’t uncomfortable, just… present. No teasing, no jokes—just him and you.
Slowly, his fingers traced the curve of your waist, mapping the gentle swell of your sides as if committing every line to memory.
Each movement was bold in intention yet measured, teasing—like he was daring you to react, and you found yourself holding still, caught between hesitation and anticipation.
The warmth of his touch spread through you in ways that weren’t just physical; it was the attention, the quiet focus of him exploring without words.
His hand was no longer just playing—it was present, outlining the frame of you, leaving you aware of every point of contact, every subtle press of skin against fabric.
His other hand slowly lifted, fingers weaving through your hair. With a practiced ease, he swept it over to one side, letting your thick sleep shirt slip just enough to expose your shoulder. The fabric pooled lazily around the curve, leaving your neck bare to the warmth of his gaze.
A content sigh left your lips.
“You like that?” he whispered, his warm breath brushing along your ear. You already knew he didn’t need an answer—he just wanted to hear it from you.
You complied with a soft hum.
He took one last slow drag of the blunt, the tip glowing faintly in the dim light. You caught the plume of smoke in your peripheral vision as he exhaled, and it curled lazily over your shoulder, teasing your bare skin.
With a subtle flick of his fingers, he sent the finished blunt spinning onto the floor. You were too caught up in the moment to care, letting the tension in your body unravel under his attention.
You don’t think you’ve ever been this relaxed.
The hand that had been tracing your side drifted lower, slipping past the hem of your shirt. It moved agonizingly slowly, skimming over the soft skin of your bare thigh, his thumb drawing lazy, teasing patterns—just a little too far up, just a little too far in.
Just a little too much to pass off as friendly.
He was giving you just enough—enough to make your skin burn—but never enough to truly satisfy the ache that had built up inside you. The moment felt charged, but it wasn’t as simple as just raw intimacy.
His breath skimmed the skin of your neck in slow, even intervals. “You’re really soft.” It almost sounded like a question.
You could feel his attention on you—the hazed focus of his gaze lingering along the line of your neck, the faint feeling of his hair grazing your skin. Then he inched in closer—slow, gentle kisses traced along the length of your neck. And despite all the tension coiled in your body, they weren’t meant to provoke—just soft, unhurried.
He pulled back, resting his head atop your shoulder.
Part of you was relieved he didn’t take it further. Another part of you screamed at the loss of the feeling.
“You’re not telling me to stop,” he whispered into your shoulder.
And, yeah. You weren’t.
You swallowed, fingers curling lightly into the fabric of his sleeve. “Yeah,” you said quietly, words slower than usual, “Should I?”
There was a pause. Not the heavy kind. Just enough to let your words settle.
“Up to you,” he replied easily, his thumb returning to trace an absent-minded line along your side. “I’d be a bit butthurt about it—but, you know. Whatever.”
That made you laugh.
He stuck to caring strokes and gentle touches.
You drifted off to sleep in his embrace that night.
─────────୨ৎ─────────
He was a simple man. At least, he’d always thought he was.
Things just failed to feel simple lately.
Enjin sat at the table, leaning slightly forward as Semiu traced patrol routes on the worn map spread across the surface. Corvus flipped through the mission logs, scribbling notes in the margins with a pencil that had long since lost its eraser.
He answered questions when prompted, offered minor adjustments to the routes, corrected a timing estimate—on the surface, he was engaged.
His thoughts were entirely elsewhere.
They’d gotten stuck with you in your bedroom that night, about a week ago.
The memory lingered at the edge of his mind, pulling his attention away even as Semiu traced the eastern perimeter—and he was fucked, since he couldn’t for the life of him figure out why she was outlining it in the first place.
The scratch of Semiu’s pencil across the map, the rustle of papers, the muted scribbling of Corvus’s notes—they all faded into the background.
He could almost feel your warmth, hear the soft sighs you’d given him, see your eyes closing at the subtle pleasure of his touch.
He understood heat, understood want—the easy kind, the kind you didn’t have to think too hard about. Touch, tension, release. He’d never been precious with it. Never needed to be.
So this—this gentle kind of caution—sat wrong in his chest.
The way his hands slowed before touching you. How instinct kept telling him to pull you closer, but something quieter told him not to rush. Like moving too fast might shatter something he didn’t quite have a name for yet.
That part confused him.
You’d always felt safe. Why did that matter so much right now?
And then that uniform.
It should’ve been the usual—charming smiles, lingering touches, the spark of attraction he knew how to handle. Instead, it had hit him sideways. Like the sight of you had shifted something into place rather than set it on fire. Pride, maybe. Something that settled instead of burned.
The realization crept up on him slowly, unwelcome in how obvious it suddenly felt.
He wasn’t being gentle because he didn’t want you.
He was being gentle because, somewhere along the way, you’d started to feel precious.
And that thought lingered far longer than he wanted it to.
He absently rubbed the back of his neck as Semiu asked about polluted zones by the border of a No Man’s Land near the eastern perimeter.
“Uh… yeah, those are clear,” he said, eyes drifting to the empty chair across the table, imagining you slumping into it, hair damp from a shower, in nothing but that huge shirt you’d worn that night.
Corvus glanced up sharply. “You even paying attention, Enjin?”
He blinked, shook his head slightly, and forced a nod. “Yeah, just… thinking ‘bout the deployment,” he muttered, realizing how transparent that sounded.
He’d like to get deployed with you again.
No. Stop. Not now.
It wasn’t about him seeing you for the first time when he laid eyes on you that day in the hallway. Something in him had been stirred awake, something that had been dormant for quite some time.
Granted, the way you looked definitely didn’t hurt.
He just hated how smitten he felt about it.
Once he realized you’d fallen asleep, breathing slow and even against his chest, he’d chosen to give you space. He’d tucked you in carefully—too carefully, if you asked him—pulled the blanket up to around your shoulders and all that. Left without waking you.
He took a shower after. Cold.
For once, he didn’t even mind that you’d used up all the hot water. He’d planned on it anyway.
He just couldn’t believe the way he was treating you.
Enjin wasn’t selfish—just a bit indulgent. A hedonist in the simplest sense. He liked what felt good and had never been shy about reaching for it.
He wasn’t unfamiliar with want. He knew exactly how far he could’ve gone, how easy it would’ve been to guide you there with him. You would’ve let him. He was sure of that. And he would’ve taken care of you — that wasn’t the issue.
Because, fuck—he wanted to.
So why didn’t he take you?
You hadn’t been tense. You hadn’t been provoking. You’d been safe.
Again, safe.
He was starting to get fed up with safe.
He clenched his jaw. It annoyed him, the way he’d held back. Especially considering the things he could’ve done to you—wanted to do to you. Thinking about making you call out his name like it was the only thing you knew how to say anymore—over and over again.
And yet.
He didn’t.
He replayed it in his head more times than he cared to admit—the way you’d leaned back into him without thinking. The way your voice had softened. The way you hadn’t told him to stop.
You would’ve let him.
That was the problem.
It wouldn’t have taken much. A slight shift of his hand. Turning your face toward his and closing the distance. You were already pliant in his arms, hazy and warm and trusting.
Trusting.
His jaw tightened again.
Of all the things he could’ve done—wanted to do—he’d chosen restraint.
His mouth had found your neck, yes—but only in the softest way. Slow, measured presses of his lips against your skin. It was the one thing he couldn’t quite stop himself from taking.
Even then, he’d been careful.
And when had he ever been careful?
Enjin didn’t do careful. He did instinct. He did desire. He did taking and giving in the same breath. Going with the flow of things.
This time, something in him had paused.
Not out of uncertainty. Not out of fear that you’d reject him.
Out of something worse.
He didn’t want to cheapen it.
The thought irritated him more than anything else. He ran a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply through his nose.
Even here, surrounded by stained papers, pencils, and scattered mugs, the thought of you was impossible to shake.
Seeing you in your uniform hadn’t started this. It had just made it harder to ignore. The way you carried yourself. The way you focused. The quiet competence. It had sharpened something that had already been there.
When had he become so aware of you? Of the way you looked at him differently lately. Of the way his body reacted to even the smallest shifts in your tone.
He wasn’t used to wanting something slowly.
It was unsettling.
Because if this was just lust, he would’ve satisfied it already.
And he was only just starting to realize it.
Semiu and Corvus started gathering their things. Somehow, the word dismissed drifted into his awareness, and before he fully realized it, he was up as well, tidying alongside them—hands moving almost automatically, thoughts still elsewhere.
Moments later, he waved them goodbye and stepped out of the briefing room, moving through the low, humming halls.
The day had passed in a blur.
He’d looked for you briefly, only to be told you’d been cooped up in your room all day, finishing reports you had let pile up and procrastinated—you really hated paperwork.
And he just knew that about you.
At some point, he’d bumped into Semiu in the common area. She had finished her work for the day early and didn’t really have anything left to do—she figured she’d like to use the evening to enjoy herself, or something along those lines.
Enjin had agreed.
That’s how he found himself in a crowded bar—or club—he wasn’t even sure and it didn’t really matter. He was perched at a table, smoking his blunt—as per usual—while Semiu sipped a drink across from him, seemingly enjoying the light buzz in her system.
The music did most of the work in drowning out his thoughts. Around him, people were dancing, some were flirting, touching. Others were getting wasted, a couple were fighting. The colorful light pierced through the clouds of smoke all over the place.
The kind of environment he usually thrived in.
Usually—
Oh. Semiu was talking to him.
“…many prank calls. Like, seriously, it pisses me off,” Semiu ranted, leaning back in her chair, fingers tapping impatiently on the table.
“Totally,” he replied, taking a slow drag from his blunt. The smoke curled around his fingers as his gaze drifted over the crowd, half-present, half-lost in thought.
“I’m too nice on the phone. I bet the hell guards don’t get calls like that,” she continued, voice rising slightly with exasperation.
And he tried so hard—genuinely—to listen to his coworker and friend he held so close to his heart. He really, really did.
“Yeah, seems unlikely,” he murmured, blowing the smoke upward and letting it dissipate into the dim light.
“Enjin. What’s up with you today?” Semiu pressed, leaning forward now, her eyes narrowing slightly as she caught the distracted set of his eyes.
“Hm?” He blinked, realizing she’d actually addressed him, fingers flexing absently around the blunt.
“During the briefing, too. You, like, disconnected from the world or something?” Her arms crossed over the table, resting the weight of them on it.
“Nah, I’m good,” he said, a faint grin tugging at his lips, taking another slow inhale. “Why? You worried about little ol’me?”
“A’ight. Imma take your word for it. For now,” she sighed, shaking her head. “But also only because I’m so fed up by the calls I don’t really have the capacity to listen to you right now.”
“Honestly,” he said, exhaling the last of the smoke from his lungs before flicking the blunt into the ashtray on the table, “works f’me.”
“You’re welcome, boo.”
Enjin felt a dip in the seat next to him.
In his peripheral, a woman, about a head and a half shorter than him. It almost slipped his mind that things like this happened to him more often than not—that he usually waited for them.
“Hey,” she smiled at him, feigning innocence, though they were both well aware of her intentions. “Your name’s Enjin, right?”
Ah. So he’d spoken to her before—somewhere, sometime.
He finally spared her a proper look. She sat upright, legs elegantly crossed, hair cascading over one shoulder like a deliberate portrait. A subtle flush colored her cheeks, softening her features.
And—usually—she’d be just the type of woman he’d go for.
But today was not a usual day.
“Nope.” He popped the p with unnecessary emphasis. “Name’s Goostaf Hurgenskurk.”
The look on Semiu’s face in his peripheral was priceless—her eyebrows shot up, mouth half-open in a mixture of shock and amusement, like she couldn’t quite decide whether to laugh or glare.
“Oh, sorry,” she stammered, stepping back a little. “Must’ve confused you with someone.”
She turned on her heel and hurried away, leaving him with a faint smirk tugging at his lips. He watched her retreat, letting the brief amusement linger before his thoughts drifted back to… well, everything else.
“So,” Semiu said, raising her glass to her lips, holding his gaze deliberately as she took a slow sip before setting it back on the table. “Goostaf.”
“I don’t even know,” he sighed, running a hand over his face. “I was just trying to think of a weird name.”
“Why, though?” Semiu leaned back, tone soft with genuine curiosity. “She’s pretty. You always let a pretty girl take you home with them, no?”
“You make me sound like a manwhore,” he muttered, a defeated chuckle escaping him.
“Well…” Her voice trailed off, insinuating—just letting the thought hang in the air.
Enjin groaned, letting his head fall back against the chair. “I just don’t feel like it today.”
“I feel like,” she said slowly, tilting her head up, a knowing look slipping into her expression now, “you’re just feeling someone else.”
And—however she figured it out—he knew that she was right.
The thought settled heavier than he expected. He’d been circling it all day, avoiding it, dressing it up as confusion or exhaustion. But now, sitting in the middle of a crowded bar with music pounding around him and with his good friend sitting across him, it finally landed.
Properly.
“Fuck, Semiu,” he groaned, dragging his hands down his face before letting his forehead fall briefly into his palms. The realization hit harder than any drink or drug in the room ever could.
Her brows lifted. “Is that what’s been bothering you all day?”
“Yeah,” he exhaled, sitting back again, staring at the table instead of her. “I just—I haven’t really seen her for a week. We keep missing each other at work,” he rubbed at the back of his neck. “It’s rough.”
“You should just stop ogling her every chance you get and man up,” Semiu said, tapping her fingers lightly on the table, eyes fixed on him with quiet insistence.
“Ogling is a kind of a strong word for it.”
“She ogles you too.”
“Yeah, I know,” he let out a short laugh, shaking his head, before letting out a sigh. “I’m losing my mind.”
“No, man,” she said simply. “You’re okay.” A small pause. “Just let her know.”
He looked up at her. “Now?”
She shrugged lightly. “Depends—do you want to tell her now?”
─────────୨ৎ─────────
You. Despised. Paperwork. With. A. Burning. Passion.
Hours had passed since you’d started, and the stack of reports in front of you had barely shrunk. Every form felt the same as the last, every column and checkbox an endless, mind-numbing loop.
Your pen scratched across the page, filling in numbers, ticking boxes, repeating the same information over and over, trying desperately not to make mistakes. Your eyes ached, your back was stiff, and your brain was screaming for even a single moment of entertainment.
You slammed your pen down. Enough. You needed a break.
For a moment, you leaned back in your chair. The room was quiet, the night outside slanting through the window casting a cold light on the mess of papers. You hadn’t moved from that spot all day, and it showed.
Boredom clung to you like a second skin. Attention fractured. Thoughts wandered.
You missed everyone. Watching Zanka train Rudo from the corner of the training yard, hearing Semiu’s voice echo from the common area, even the occasional gruff comment from Delmon — all of it made you wish you could be anywhere else right now.
But you’d told everyone to stay out of your room unless it was an emergency. No distractions. No interruptions. You needed to get through the paperwork, and the last thing you wanted was someone leaning over your shoulder asking questions or chatting.
It was definitely what you wanted, though.
Still, even in the quiet, your thoughts kept drifting. You missed him too.
No. Focus.
You let out a long, tired sigh, shoulders slumping as you rubbed at the ache in your neck. The pen hovered uselessly above the next form.
Your eyes wandered across the room, landing on the stack of completed reports next to you—neat, precise, and utterly soul-crushing. You pushed it away with a flick of your wrist.
Enough of this.
You’d finish the rest tomorrow.
You leaned back in your chair, stretching your legs and letting the tension in your body ease slightly. Somewhere in the corner of your mind, you imagined him there—on your bed, attention drifting into nothingness as smoke swirled gently around him, unhurried and soft—and him looking utterly peaceful. Pretty.
A knock at the door froze you mid-stretch.
Your heart skipped. You’d told everyone to stay out unless it was urgent.
Another knock. Louder this time. Your chest tightened. You hesitated, staring at the door, mind racing through every possible scenario.
Slowly, cautiously, you approached and cracked it open.
To your surprise, it was Enjin.
And as much as he didn’t look like he was about to deliver bad news, something about him had shifted. The air around him felt different.
No performative expression. No mischief in his eyes. No provoking glint. Something much softer had settled over his sharp features—a contrast that made your chest ache a little.
“Hey,” you said, brows knitting slightly. “Did something happen?”
“No,” he answered simply. His voice was calm. Certain. “Not at all.” A beat. “Can I come in?”
You studied him for a second longer, searching his face for anything you might’ve missed. Finding nothing urgent—just your own curiosity—you stepped aside.
He moved past you without another word. Not brushing against you, not lingering—close enough that you felt the warmth of him as he crossed the threshold. The door clicked shut behind him, the sound louder than it should’ve been.
For a moment, neither of you spoke.
He took in your room—the desk crowded with papers, the stack you’d shoved aside, the pen lying abandoned where you’d dropped it. His gaze lingered there briefly before returning to you.
The silence wasn’t awkward.
It was heavy.
And whatever he’d come here to say—you felt like it mattered.
Just that he didn’t say anything. He looked at you, held your gaze as though he had all the time in the world. Like it stood still, right here in this room—with you.
You caught the faintest dip in his gaze—just slightly, brushing over the lines of your shoulders, the skin underneath the collar of your shirt—the smallest of shifts of his irises—before returning to your eyes.
You felt like you were being… scanned. For something. But you didn’t have the capacity to commit your mind to what that could possibly be, because your focus was on something entirely unrelated.
The breadth of his shoulders.
The vivid reds and blacks inked into his skin.
The loose curl of his hair falling near his temple.
He didn’t say anything. Not with words, at least. But you were beginning to understand.
He stepped toward you, slow and unhurried, closing the space without breaking eye contact—which felt like a bit of a crime in and of itself. It was unbelievably nauseating, made you feel powerless, but in kind of a good way.
Had he always been so tall? He really towered over you—couldn’t even look at him anymore without folding your head back.
His hand found yours first, fingers curling gently as he drew you in. You could feel sparks at the tips of your own—and it hurt. It hurt so much, because all the tension in your body seemed to come crashing down on you all at once and it hurt so much it felt good, somehow.
Then, it snaked around your waist, steady, holding you close. You didn’t quite grasp what was actually happening, you just knew you wanted more, but also anticipated possibly throwing up butterflies any second now.
His body was so unbelievably warm and big—the scope of it so up close was a bit hard to grasp. You feel the outlines of his defined body through his thin sweater and you forgot how to breathe for a second.
His other hand came up to cup your face, gently—so unbelievably gentle, like your skin might crack under anything more; it almost made you cry.
His fingers slipped into your hair, careful, slow. His thumb moved back and forth along your cheek, steady and soft. Tender—and you started wondering when you would have ever described him that way.
You were beginning to understand.
Your initial hesitance vanished into thin air along with the ability to think straight.
And all the what-ifs and maybes that had been crowding your mind melted away the instant he pressed his lips against yours
The sound of your heart pounding mixed with the ringing in your ears; you were certain you were about to die, if it wasn’t for the way he was squeezing your frame against his, like he promised to catch you if you were going to fall.
He was slow. Tentative. Testing the waters, as if silently asking for permission you’d already given him a million times over in your head.
His grip on your waist tightened just slightly, almost accidental—trying so hard to hold back, yet his true immediacy shone through the cracks of his performative reluctance.
He had been just as desperate to do this to you as you had been to have it happen.
You felt the butterflies do their thing again—and it was fucked up how easily he’d given them to you, with something as simple as a kiss and a couple touches entirely unraveling you.
Shivers trickled down your spine at the sensation of him, of it all; his warmth radiating through the fabric of his sweater, his lips moving with your own in a painfully—agonizingly—slow tandem.
Then he pulled back—no more than an inch—your soft, warm breaths mingling in the small space between you. A lazy, faint smile on his face.
“Hey,” he exhaled.
A simple word. It didn’t mean anything, really—but it did. And you understood.
“Hi.” Your voice almost ran out. Airy. Barely even there.
His grin widened, before he leaned back in again. Initially soft and merciful touches turned more intense, intentional; a firmer grip on you, a stronger tug on the back of your head, tangling into the strands of your hair at the nape of your neck.
Your body, your mind, your everything seemed to solely focus in on him. There was nothing more important than this, him kissing you senseless and holding onto you like you were going to disappear if he didn’t.
You felt him grow impatient with each passing moment—pulling your body even closer by the small of your back—and you couldn’t help but notice how large his hand felt there. He angled his head just right to deepen the kiss with natural finesse. He was everywhere—filling all your senses, overwhelming your system in ways you never thought possible.
He smelled of faint hints of tobacco, though he tasted a lot fresher than you’d expected—almost minty in flavour. The mix of cigarettes and mint made for a spicy tingle on your tongue and all you could think about was how it kind of fit the man you were holding onto like a lifeline.
Your hands found the nape of his neck, feeling up the short hairs of his sharp undercut.
You were trying to catch a thought—any thought—at least a single word—but you hadn’t taken a proper breath in nearly half a minute, and it was definitely starting to affect your ability to think clearly.
That he hoisted you up by the underside of your thighs with controlled ease a moment later—not breaking away from you for even a second—did not help in the slightest. He took a few steps somewhere—before your back met the hard surface of the wall behind you.
Your legs comfortably tangled around his waist as he pinned you against it with his hips, hard. The hand previously on your cheek joined the other on your waist, fingers digging into your side, abandoning any idea of slow and tender.
Your own hands traveled beneath his collar, nails dragging across bare skin and if he didn’t have this tattoo you were sure there’d be deep, red scratches there.
Groans rippled through him with every drag of your nails, the sound shooting straight through your stomach. It only seemed to provoke him further—pulling you closer by the arch of your back and pressing you against him, his fingers digging in just enough that you knew you’d feel it the next morning.
The kiss turned messy. There was no sense or rhythm to it, only pure instinct and insatiable hunger for the other. No matter how close he was—how deeply his fingers dug into your skin—you still felt like he couldn’t be further away. You wanted him closer, as close as physically possible and more.
He moved on towards your neck and it was nothing like the faint pecks he’d left there that night a week ago. This was him devouring you, moving right on the edge between pleasure and pain. His kisses stung as he bit them into your skin, likely tainting it with red and blue hues. “You feel so fucking good,” he whispered, basking in the way your body twitched—your sweet gasps nothing short of music to his ears.
Once he felt like he was done with one place, he’d continue his assault further down along the blank canvas of your skin, leaving only stinging spots behind, before finally returning to your swollen lips, leaving one single, slow and deep kiss.
“Enjin,” you heaved—the first time you were able to take a long breath in a hot minute.
“Mm?” He hummed, leaving lazy pecks on your lips, eyes entirely dazed. Sometimes, he’d move it to the corner of your mouth, your cheek, your jaw—just peppering you with gentle kisses, taking his sweet time with it.
His grip on you told a whole different story.
His huge hands encasing more of you than you could have ever expected, pinning you against him with little to no effort, like your weight meant absolutely nothing to him. And why would it? He was easily two times your size, if not more.
“I need—“ kiss. “—more,” another kiss. “Please.”
He pulled back an inch or two, a faint yet devilish smile adorning his face. “More of what, sweetheart?”
His head dipped back into the crook of your neck, lips grazing the newly mark-ridden parts of your skin, leaving a couple more soft kisses along their pattern. “More of this?”
And he was well aware that that was not what you meant. You knew he knew that was not what you had meant—and it was frustrating to no end. The ache between your legs was getting more unbearable by the second. “No—want you to touch me,” you whined. You tried to ease the tension by pulling him closer, shifting your hips against him—every attempt in vain.
He had you pinned securely in place, and there was no adjusting it without his help. Without his permission. “Please, Enjin.”
“I am touching you, baby,” he huffed a breathy laugh, before holding his hand out to you, offering it. “Here. Move it to where you want me, sweetheart.”
You held his gaze for a moment, weighing your options. It hurt your ego to have to admit this to him in such a degrading way—and still, a part of you felt so cared for. Your pride urged you to save face, but given the position you were in, there wasn’t necessarily much ego left to save. If accepting his offer meant getting the itch scratched you so desperately needed attention for, then it was simply what you had to do.
And so—without breaking the eye contac—you took his hand in your own and first guided it down the like of your body and underneath the hem of your shirt. His brow quirked slightly, eyes darkening as it met the plush of the inside of your legs.
Ever so slowly, you moved it a couple inches further in and further up, until his fingers finally met the sole layer of fabric separating you from what you’re asking of him.
The smile that grew on his face was something else.
He shifted, properly supporting your weight on one leg while keeping you steady with a hand snaked around the small of your back. Then, without hurry, he tugged the fabric aside, running his fingers along your sore, wet folds.
His gaze tilted down to where his hand disappeared beneath the fabric of your shirt. “Damn, baby. You’re soaked,” he let his fingers dip into you for nothing more than a couple inches before running them up and down again—tracing you. Memorizing you. “Fuck, that’s hot.”
The sounds that left you would have left you feeling quite embarrassed, if you weren’t so distracted right now. The relief of the friction did a lot to sate your desire for a moment—but you could already feel yourself wanting more.
He seemed to have picked up on it as his fingers moved upwards to solely focus on your wanting and waiting clit. Your eyes shut close at the sudden feeling of him finally giving you what you’d needed, gripping at his shoulders for dear life as if you’d fall if you didn’t and whining his name through broken breaths like a personal mantra.
He hummed. You felt his muscles shift beneath your palms, like his head had tilted upwards—like he was looking at you again. “Yes, pretty girl?”
“S’really good,” you exhaled, opening your eyes only to see Enjin already fully focused on you through your hazed vision.
“I know, baby, I know,” he cooed, corner of his lip faintly quirking upwards. “Wasn’t even gonna do this with you,”—he leaned in, eyes falling to your lips before catching them with his in a short kiss—“was gonna come here and tell you how I feel. Wanted to spend more time with you, ask you out on a nice date, do it right this time—but you,” his eyes met your gaze again—this time, more intense.
His previously tender attention towards your clit turned overwhelming in an instant. The pad of his finger moved a little faster and harder now—each deliberate stroke drawing a sharp, involuntary twitch from your body.
You’d never felt so overstimulated, every sensation heightened to the brink, and yet some reckless part of you was completely, helplessly into it.
Soft whines slipped from your mouth, and if anyone happened to be on the other side of the wall you were pressed against, you were certain they’d be able to hear you.
“Looked up at me all doe eyed like that. Said ‘please’ like that.” His fingers dipped into you without warning, two of them filling you more than two fingers ever should be able to, but, of course, Enjin and his blessed, huge hands, took little to now effort to make you see stars. “This what you wanted , sweetheart?”
“Mm, yes,” you breathed, pure instinct taking over as you pulled him back in by the nape of his neck.
It drove you insane—the way you felt his jaw shift against your palm, the slow graze of his tongue along your bottom lip, the steady curl of his fingers inside you, again and again and again.
“Mm,”—he separated from you for a moment—“s’just for you, baby,”—before leaning back in. His fingers curled inside you again and again, brushing that sensitive spot that made your insides tighten and your skin burn in ways no one had ever made you feel before.
He had something about him—some kind of chemistry that felt entirely unique to Enjin. That towering height, those striking features, paired with his addictive charisma that showed in the way he talked to you—in the way he touched you, kissed you.
It wasn’t demanding in a forceful sense. It was unraveling. It was simple. You were willing to hand yourself over completely—without him ever having to ask. Like some sort of spell.
Without breaking away, his fingers slowly slipped from you ever so slowly, drawing a soft whine from you straight into the kiss. You felt the faint curve of his smile against your lips. Then his hands were on you again, firm and sure as he hoisted you up against him and carried you away from the wall.
The edge of your desk met the backs of your thighs as he eased you onto it with controlled care, settling you against the surface. You felt the edges and corners of the sheets of paper you’d just been working on minutes ago right beneath you, itching and poking at your skin.
With one last, teasing bite to your bottom lip, he pulled back from your kiss-swollen lips with a devilish glint in his eyes.
He lifted his fingers to his mouth—the ones previously teasing you beyond measure—and licked them clean of you without breaking his hazy gaze from you. You could tell he was doing it just to mess with you—and it was working unfortunately well.
Your attention drifted to the thing repeatedly pressing against your inner thigh, and a mix of curiosity and anticipation washed over you.
Given the size of him—his body, his hands, his limbs—you had expected him to be a certain… size. And in a way, he met those expectations. But to feel the bulge of him so intimately pressed against you made it hit you all at once—now that your bodies were pressed close to flush against one another.
This man was big.
Your hand reached towards the hem of his pants, almost instinctively, before his own hand caught yours by the thin of your wrist. Looking back up at him you noticed the corner of his mouth curled upwards. “Not now, pretty girl.”
Your head tilted in response. “Why not?”
“Some other time. Jus’ wanna focus on you today,” he brought your hand within his towards himself, leaving a couple of gentle pecks along the inside of your wrist.
“But what about you?”
“I’ll enjoy you, baby,” he leaned back in, pausing just an inch before, a devilishly charming smirk resting on him. “Don’t worry your pretty head about it.”
His lips found yours again, trading a few more heated kisses before drifting to the corner of your mouth, along the line of your jaw, and down to your already tender neck.
He roamed your body with no shame, tracing your every line—from the swell of your chest to the plush of your hips. Groping at your sides and circling your waist with his hands, before pushing you backwards for you to lean against the wall behind you, forcing himself between your legs, casually.
His hands found their way between them again, collecting the slick on his fingers, before lazily drawing patterns over your pulsing, sore clit, drawing all sorts of sounds and reactions from you as passively pumped his fingers in and out of you every now and then, like it was just second nature to him.
His kisses trailed downward—past your heaving chest, along the curve of your stomach, across the warmth of your thighs—before his head finally settled between your legs, where he left a mix of teasing love-bites and gentle, lingering pecks on the insides of your thighs.
“You’re very kissable,” he commented from his position on his knees, looking up at you as he guided your legs to rest atop his shoulders.
The sight was charged—this huge man, both in height and breadth, overwhelming in body mass and bearing the authority of the head of your team, kneeling there in front of you. Something about the commanding way he held himself even in that submissive posture.
It didn’t make him any less impressive—or any smaller—in your eyes. If anything, the juxtaposition only made him more magnetic.
He looked fucking hot.
His hair all messed up, lips kiss-swollen, mirroring your own, skin covered in a thin layer of sweat, eyes dazed with pleasure and radiating the sheer power he naturally carried. His brow was quirked ever so slightly, a faint, mischievous smile on his face.
“Is that why you bit my neck raw?” you asked, looking down at him through your own daze, fingers grazing through the short strands of his hair, not much bite in your voice despite your words.
He huffed a laugh, and your heart skipped a beat.
“M’about to do much worse than just eat your neck, babygirl,” he said lowly, his hot breath traveling past the thin skin of your inner thighs, his gaze traveling downwards.
And with that, his tongue dipped through your folds, dragging a slow lick up your heated, pulsing core. Your breath shuddered, your hand gripping at his hair to anchor yourself as he worked you up.
His hands wrapped around your thighs, your feet resting on his shoulders as he pinned you against his face, tongue dragging up and down through your folds and making a point to flick your sensitive, aching clit in the process.
“E–Enjin… ah—s’ so good.”
You felt him suck it into his mouth, toying with it between his lips before letting it go in a wet kiss and continuing his assault. You felt like the meal of a starving man.
He had no shame in the way he was eating you—the sounds he was making, the way he was practically making out with you. What you’d yearned to feel was finally coming true, and your body and mind seemed to sing with the relief he was finally granting you.
He pressed the flat of his tongue against your clit, rhythmically dragging it up and down. His fingers dug into the flesh of your thighs, holding you against him as to leave no room for escape—at least not until he was done with you.
This man you’d known to be so indulgent in his own pleasure now shifting his focus entirely onto you left an impact that would haunt you for the rest of your life. No one had ever treated you the way he did, touched you the way he had—made you feel the way he was making you feel.
You’d certainly never experienced anyone going down on you of their own free will—let alone seeming to take pleasure in it themselves.
No man, no less.
And yet, here he was, caging you against him, just in case the pleasure he was giving you became too much to handle—which, judging by the way it was building up, it already was starting to feel that way. He definitely wasn’t letting you go.
The friction drove you crazy, made you feel as though you were floating and falling all at once. You couldn’t decide whether to pull him even closer or push him away, but you knew that everything about him felt so fucking good and something was building up inside of you that only he could unravel.
One of his hands loosened its grip on your thigh, sliding down and around it, before two fingers began pumping into you, curling against the spot Enjin had claimed the moment you had guided his hands between your legs.
“Ah—please don’t stop,” you writhed and you whined, eyes shutting close at the overwhelming feeling of him flooding your senses.
“M’right here, baby,” he breathed against you, before turning his attention back to your puffy clit, fingers deep and curled inside you.
Pleasure twisted into an intoxicating kind of pain—the rare kind that made you ache to explore it even more. It burned, it stung, sharp and sweet all at once, and yet you knew with absolute certainty that if he stopped right now you would shatter into a million miserable pieces.
Without warning, he suckled your clit into his mouth again, flicking his tongue over it as his fingers pumped in and out of you with relentless rhythm. Your legs instinctively clamped around his head, trying to shut out the overwhelming sensation, to push him away—to no avail.
Your body reacted on its own, trying to relieve the strain he was putting on you, but your mind wanted nothing more than to keep him as close as humanly possible.
“M‘ gonna… please… s’so much,” you whimpered, forever torn between pulling him closer and trying to escape.
That only seems to edge him on as he raised the intensity, moving harder and faster in every way imaginable and making you see stars and cry his name like a desperate prayer.
“Enjin—fuck, s‘so good, please-”
Your climax crashed over you, leaving you trembling in the wake of it.
Like the good man he’d proven himself to be, he guided you through it, helping you ride the wave, tracing lazy circles over your clit with his tongue while his fingers moved in slow, languid rhythm. Finally, he pulled back with one last, gentle kiss to your now tender and abused clit.
He slowly rose to his full height, hands flat on the surface of the table, encasing your pleasure-drained body, your torso leaning half against the wall.
“If I had known you taste this good I’d have done this a lot sooner,” he smiled, catching your lips in a kiss you couldn’t resist if you tried.
“Mm,” you replied in a haze, returning the pecks he was giving you and tasing yourself on lips tongue. “Can I return the favor?”
“As much as I’d love to see you try, baby,” he smiles, helping you off the desk as he scoops you into his arms effortlessly, making his way to the bathroom with you. “How about we take a hot shower together and I take you out on a date first?”
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PT2 >>> detergent & sweets
CREDIT WHERE CREDIT IS DUE :3
thanks to my amazing beta readers @zukunyy and @imjusttrashignoreme
thanks to my boyfriend who helped me write a service top because he just can
and thanks to @pixopix for the dividers :3
A/N: AND THANK U GUYS FOR READING <333 I’m planning a part 2 to this because I need me so dom Enjin and I’m actually more of a fan of oral m!receiving anyway sooo yeah that’s gonna happen hopefully :3 again, thanks for reading—I’d appreciate a reblog if you liked it ･:*+.\(( °ω° ))/.:+ if you have any requests you can definitely lmk
lowkey thinking about tamsy who has a thing for bro’s wife but is so much creepier about it…im talking he HOVERS around her, sometimes watches her sleep and gets all weird and giddy when she turns over and he can see wet spots on her shirt, and suddenly always appears when she’s either pumping herself or groaning about how heavy her tummy is and that she’s upset bro isn’t around to hold it for her
and u already know he’s sliding in behind her, his hands cupping the under side of her belly and lifting it just enough to hold most of the weight to give a bit of relief and smiling all coy when she melts against him
“no need to apologize, darling. what kind of friend would I be if I didn’t make sure bro’s wife is doted on while he’s away, hm?”
Glory Hole! Reader, who lost a bet to Tomme and Semiu, where she would have to be trapped, didn't know it was a Glory Hole that the boys would use (the boys bribed Tomme and Semiu, they bought bottles of alcohol for Tomme and magazines for Semiu, so they helped them).
ahh yes the good hole 'glory hole station', my favorite!!
but you say this like tomme and semiu aren't in on it too. i know damn well semiu is going to be the first one there, hands all over your ass, fingers spreading you open before she's literally destroying your insides with her strap, absolutely giddy that she gets to play with you first while tomme is on the otther side, acting all innocent and shy like shes not kissing you like shes drunk, hands groping your chest and tugging at your nipples, going in after semiu's done to clean you up a little bit after your messy orgasm (and def giving you another one with her tongue for good luck) and yes, they high five after they leave to go let the boys know their lil bunny was all wet n ready for them
CORVUS GOES FIRST IDC he's asking if you are okay, if your comfortable likes he's not the one who approved of the damn thing, but he thinks its really cute that you get all squirmy when you realize its the HQ that's going to be using you today, not just some randoms. if anything, it probably makes you wetter
but i think the order would go corvus, tamsy, august, follo, semiu sneaks back in there again, enjin & gris (these stupid fucking losers are tag teaming), and bro goes last bc. well, he's got the highest stamina and the thickest dick out of all of them
content: mdni, chase kink, consensual roleplaying, biting, outdoor sex, rough sex, sukuna has two dicks, and I think that’s all :)
w/c: 2k
Your heart was pounding in your throat, the wind whipping through your hair as you navigated the forest with nothing but the pale moonlight to guide your way. You just hoped you wouldn’t trip over one of the countless roots hidden beneath the undergrowth.
Every few seconds, you glanced over your shoulder, checking whether he was still behind you. Apparently, your head start had paid off, there was no sign of Sukuna anywhere.
Fear and arousal burned beneath your skin in equal parts. Besides, you had never run this fast in your life.
Still, you knew your lead wouldn’t last forever. Maybe it was already gone. Maybe he was much closer than you realized, watching you from somewhere in the darkness between the trees.
The rules had been simple.
If he caught you before you reached the cabin, he’d fuck you right there. If you made it first, he’d have to let you try something new with him.
And you were determined to win.
In the distance, the warm glow spilling from the cabin’s windows came into view, relief flooding through you almost instantly.
It lasted all of two seconds before the unmistakable snap of a branch echoed behind you.
You picked up speed, panic urging your legs to move faster.
A low, beastly growl sounded somewhere behind you.
A frightened squeak slipped from your lips as you tried to put more distance between the two of you.
It was pointless. He was already too close.
Without warning, a pair of powerful arms wrapped around your waist while another pinned your shoulders against a broad, solid chest. You gasped, kicking and struggling to break free.
“Don’t bother.”
His voice rumbled against your ear, thick with dark satisfaction.
“I’ve got you now.”
You fought with everything you had. If you managed to slip away, the game didn’t have to end here—that had been one of the rules too.
But it was useless.
“Bastard” you growled, still squirming in his grasp.
His laugh sent a shiver straight through your core, much to your own annoyance.
Truthfully…
Winning or losing had never really mattered, some part of you had wanted to be caught.
“Stay still. There’s nothing you can do.”
His teeth caught your earlobe, tugging just enough to make you writhe.
A soft moan escaped before you could stop it.
With ease, Sukuna spun you around and pressed you against the rough trunk of a pine tree. Not hard enough to knock the breath from your lungs, but enough to leave you momentarily stunned.
When you looked up, that wicked grin was already waiting for you.
His crimson eyes slowly traveled down your body, assessing you with open amusement as if deciding which piece of clothing he wanted to tear off first.
Your chest rose and fell with uneven breaths.
Without a second thought, one of his right arms hooked into the fabric of your shirt and ripped it apart effortlessly, exposing your bra and the soft curve of your cleavage.
“Time to claim my prize.”
He leaned in until his face hovered beside your neck, inhaling deeply before dragging his tongue over the frantic beat of your pulse.
“I can feel it,” he murmured “I can feel your blood racing through your veins.”
His teeth grazed your skin.
“Are you scared?”
“No.”
“You should be.”
His fangs sank into your neck, drawing a sharp cry of surprise that melted seamlessly into pleasure. Pain and heat spread through your entire body, your nipples hardening instantly.
When he pulled away, he lazily licked over the bite mark.
Almost unconsciously, you wrapped your legs around his waist, your hips brushing against his stomach as your body instinctively chased the tongue that was there.
“Eager, aren’t we?” he mocked.
His lower arms tightened around your waist, keeping you firmly in place before lifting you effortlessly off the ground.
Now you were completely trapped. The tree at your back and Sukuna in front of you.
No escape.
The shredded remains of your shirt hung loosely from your shoulders.
Towering over you, his massive frame looked every bit as intimidating as it was powerful. He could do whatever he wanted to you and you wouldn’t be able to stop him. And yet, you knew all it would take was a single word for this twisted little game to end.
But you didn’t want it to end, you wanted him to use you however he pleased.
To mold your body to his liking.
The thought alone sent warmth pooling between your thighs.
With one of his lower right arms, Sukuna freed his upper cock while spreading your legs even farther apart, his remaining arms keeping you suspended effortlessly against the tree. Another hand tore through the thin fabric of your pants and underwear, leaving you completely exposed.
He had destroyed your clothes in less than five minutes in the middle of the forest. Against a tree. Like an animal.
Everything about him reminded you of a beast.
You swallowed the moan threatening to spill from your lips.You needed him.
Right here.
Right now.
“Stay still, woman.” His voice came out as a low growl. “I’m claiming what’s mine.”
He pinned your wrists and waist in place as he lined himself up with your entrance.
You were already ready for him, no need of preparation. The thrill of the chase still coursed through your veins, your body burning hotter than before.
Just as you’d expected, Sukuna buried himself inside you in a single thrust, his other cock brushing deliciously against your clit.
A sharp cry tore from your throat as the familiar sting of the stretch gave way to the overwhelming sensation of being filled.
Everything else faded.
Thought became impossible.
All that remained were the sensations. Full. Shaking. Wanted.
The hunger with which he always took you, his body’s instinctive response to yours, made you feel powerful in a way you couldn’t quite explain. Not because of the sex but because of the devotion he never showed anyone else.
He indulged your every whim.
Even this game.
It had been your idea, and Sukuna had accepted without a single complaint, chasing you through the forest just because you wanted him to.
“Relax.” His voice was edged with impatience. “Thought you could take it.”
A shaky breath left your lips.
“I-I thought so too…”
Pleasure and pain battled for dominance inside you. You simply needed a little time to adjust, in your defense, you had never done it like this before, never with your feet dangling above the ground.
One of his hands slipped between your bodies, his thumb finding your clit in slow, deliberate circles while his eyes remained fixed on your face.
Your expression slowly softened.
You focused on the steady rhythm of his touch, pleasure gradually replacing the lingering ache. Even without moving, he was already brushing against the spot that made your body tremble.
Your walls fluttered around him.
“Ah… I-it doesn’t hurt as much anymore.”
Your hands, finally free, settled on his broad shoulders.
“I felt that” he muttered. “I can feel your pussy pulsing around me.”
His hands tightened around your waist before slowly guiding your body up and back down his length. Somehow, the stars above seemed brighter now.
“T-There… yes…”
Your voice came out as nothing more than a breathless gasp.
Every slow thrust rubbed you exactly where you needed him. Perfectly.
“So what happened to all that courage?” Sukuna teased, dragging his tongue along your neck before grazing your skin with his teeth once more “I thought you wanted to get away from me.”
His lips hovered just inches from yours.
“I thought you were afraid.”
Instead of answering, he crashed his lips against yours in a wild kiss. It swallowed every moan and whimper you tried to make and your tongues tangled together, neither willing to surrender until Sukuna inevitably forced the kiss into his own relentless rhythm.
“I-I’m gonna cum…” the warning barely left your lips before his pace quickened.
The pressure building inside you became almost unbearable.
“Pathetic,” he scoffed, his voice rough “Making you come is far too easy.”
“Shut up…”
Your nails dug into his shoulders.
“I’m gonna—”
The words dissolved into a broken cry as your body finally gave in. Your walls clenched tightly around him, your legs trembling uncontrollably while wave after wave of pleasure crashed through every nerve in your body.
The cry you let out must have echoed for miles.
Warmth trickled down the inside of your thighs, and down his abdomen.
His hips snapped forward faster, one of his lower arms slamming into the tree behind you hard enough to make the trunk crack beneath the force.
A deep, guttural groan rumbled from his chest as he emptied himself inside you.
Your climax had dragged his own out of him.
For several long moments, neither of you spoke, the only sound left was your ragged breathing.
You slipped your arms around the back of his neck, more for balance than necessity cause you knew he would never let you fall.
A tired smile tugged at your lips.
“Pathetic” you whispered against his ear, still struggling to catch your breath “Making you come is far too easy.”
You felt him twitch inside you.
“Insolent woman” he growled.
a/n: y’all already saw the new teaser of the next jjk part? I’m excited and afraidddd. anyways, I hope you like it, comments and reblogs are appreciated 😽🫰🏻
bakugo struggling to stay focused while he holds his phone in one hand, the other in your hair, practically petting you. that look in your eyes, the way you're looking up at him from the floor, between his legs...he can practically see hearts in your eyes and it's making him throb.
"hey, dude, are you listening?"
fuck. he almost forgot that kirishima is on the other line, completely unaware of everything he was said beforehand. "no, say it again, and clearer this time," he huffs, voice low and clearly peeved he couldn't give you his full attention.
who wouldn't be when their girlfriend is looking up at them with lidded eyes, drooling on their thigh while fucking herseld on a thick, ribbed dildo while cooing their name over and over again, promising she could wait until he got the rest of the incident information from kiri.
and yet, he was still struggling to listen, trying to remember the words he's saying before he tugs you a little bit harder than he means too, causing you to let out a cute little noise and fall forward right into his crotch, face pressed against his hard on.
and then you just have to be a dirty fucking slut and take a deep breath before moaning his name, licking a stripe right over his cock through his jeans.
"what the fuck, baby."
he doesn't give kiri a chance to question him, immediately hanging up before grabbing your head with both hands and grinding against your face. "you're so fucking nasty, you know that? dirty little slut getting off on huffing my dick through my jeans," he groans through gritted teeth, practically humping his dick against your lips. "'m gonna cum in my jeans like a loser, but you're gonna clean it up for me while you keep bouncing on that toy. then i'm gonna call kiri back and you're gonna be good and moan nice and loud so he knows why i'm distracted, got it?"
Warning for dubcon!! Cw for alcohol and indirect mention of vomit too
But omlll drunk enjin is smth I haven’t even considered he’d be such a clingy drunk,,, maybe not in the typical way but like he’s always slumped against you and will try to grope you wherever you may be, there’s no way to tell if he’s oblivious to all the people around or if he’s turned on by it
Definitelyyyy starts yapping to friends offering to share you too. Will try to finger you in the booth or on the dance floor.
I feel like no matter how much of a mess he is he’s gonna think it’s all fun and games and will be attached at your hip. If he’s been sick and you’re trying to coax him into a shower or bath to clean himself up I could sooo see him just grabbing your wrist and yanking you in too
-💕
hearts ur fucking killing me....he's so grabby when he's drunk, so touchy and his mouth just runs and runs and runs, and u cant help but tease him that he's living up to his name.
but he's literally got his hands up your shirt and bra, groping your tits as he groans into your neck, tweaking your nipples and whining a long 'nooooo' when he try to pull him off you
"babyyyy, nooo, lemme...lemme play with them, please? miss 'em, wanna put 'em in my mouth..."
when you tell him no cus u dont wanna flash everyone he just grumbles, resting his head against your neck as he sulks.
but then his hands trail down and before you know it, he's trying to play with your pussy, doing everything he can to sneak a finger under your panties to rub at your clit. he's just so fucking fidgety he literally cant keep still and you just happen to be his fidget toy
but....bath with enjin....mmghughh wait....im thinking....i want that......
a/n: don't be in my comments talkin bout how this isnt how college works cause it's how it's gon work today. also theres y/n usage i know thats lame now sorry
"oh, professorrr?"
midoriya heard a voice that was more familiar than it should've been, followed by three supposedly innocent knocks on the wooden doorframe of the entry to his office. not allowing himself to tense up and forcing himself to look toward the disturbance, he was greeted with the sight of... of course.
midoriya sighed.
you strolled into the office with your signature smile, holding some papers close to your chest with a mechanical pencil in your hand that you idly tapped against yourself. "hiii, professor." you greeted again, using your foot to nudge the door closed behind you.
"ah... [surname]." izuku sighs again, setting his pen down and leaning back in his chair. "what is it?" he asks, tone tired and exasperated. his eyes don't dare roam.
you take a meaningless step forward, giggling softly. "[surname]? oh, come on, mr. m, you know you can call me [name] by now." you playfully tilted your head.
you were one of many students that izuku taught in the guest course he was asked to hold at yuuei uni this year. you were honestly a fine student, great at understanding and participating even if you were a little hesitant when it came to anything you had to mull over for too long. you stood tall, and confident, and... the attention you had your teacher hold may or may not have been a little more than academic.
you were still smiling.
izuku was only some years older than you, but he couldn't deny the effect you had on him. he tried to brush it off, not notice his attraction to you, ignore the way you made him feel, but it was hard to ignore the slight heat in his gut whenever you looked at him with your bright smile— the way his stomach would churn when you would raise your hand in class with those eyes that told him you definitely knew the answer to more than just the question he asked.
the professor does not correct himself. "what is it?" he presses again, his voice growing sterner. he can't afford this.
"oh, y'know..." you put your weight on one leg. "just looking for an extension on that paper about quirk amplification theory?" you rested your eraser on your bottom lip, gently twisting it back and forth. a cheap distraction to lower his guard, but an effective one. izuku's eyes flickered down to watch the plump flesh give way for only a moment, but it seemed to last an eternity. your lips looked softer today. sweeter, maybe.
quickly, he cleared his throat and looked away, trying to push the thought of how you might taste right now— the thought of you in general— away.
he leaned back in his chair. "you've had more than enough time to get that paper completed and turned in, miss [surname]." he replied sternly, folding his arms and looking back at you as he propped his ankle on the opposite knee.
"well, it's been hard to focus!" you pout. "the time i mean to use for researching and writing keeps getting taken up..." you say it like it's a mystery, but mr. midoriya doesn't miss the implicated glint in your eye. "keeps getting away from me..."
izuku's hands tense slightly under the desk. he tries to resist giving in to your bitching— he's already had many fantasies where you had that exact expression on your face and he would do things to you that a teacher definitely shouldn't do with a student, he's ashamed to admit— but he ends up failing and looks at your frown regardless.
"hm," he replies with a hum and raised eyebrow, shifting slightly in his seat. “and how does whatever is taking up your time concern me?”
"hm?" your lips part to form an 'o' shape, features set soft. "oh, professor..." you incredulously smile and let out a quiet huff as you set your papers and pencil down on his desk. "really?" you approach closer.
izuku leans even further back in his chair, his feet replanting on the floor and his hands finding themselves on the armrests, gripping there as he watches you suddenly walk around and sit up on his side of the desk. he watches your hands, and how they come up to run over your head before gently grabbing the zipper of your hoodie.
he swallows. you're far too close.
the professor can do nothing but stare as, slowly, you tug down, dark red and purplish marks being revealed more and more the more of yourself you expose. your hoodie slips off one of your shoulders, revealing a small bra strap hugging your frame. just like that, he's forced to face the bruises and hickeys he'd littered on your smooth skin just last week— just after the latest lecture you were in attendance for.
he glances down at his workspace, and there's still that splinter on his desk from where you'd been clawing away.
"you can't just do this to me and act like it never happened..." your tone is still just pouty, playful in a way that makes izuku take a deep breath. like it's innocent. he shuts his eyes to think for a second, his heart starting to beat a way he doesn't appreciate.
"...hm?" you push when he doesn't say a word.
izuku clears his throat, trying to sound stern and professional, and he tries to get out some sort of excuse or reasoning for his actions to no avail. he opens his mouth, but nothing comes out. he struggles pitifully to think up a response, torn between wanting to tell you that you should leave because this is wrong or pulling you down onto the desk himself to finish what you two had started.
eventually, he manages to shove his nerves down, swallowing thickly and clearing his throat again, not taking his eyes off the hickeys on your neck.
"[name]..." he finally regains his voice. you watch izuku's eyes rake over your body, taking you in in a way that makes an excited shiver go down your spine. his fingers flex on the armrests, itching to reach out and yank you onto his lap.
but he doesn't. can't. not yet.
"this is highly inappropriate." he finally says as he pushes himself to stand, attempting to feign ignorance despite the obvious evidence on your body.
you simply giggle to yourself again, eyes following him as he rises to his feet. "now you call me [name]." you observe, still holding your hoodie open like you want him to stare, like you forbid him to forget as you look up at him from below.
it's too easy. izuku can't help but stare. he can't get enough of the way your mischievous little giggle sounds, or the way your body looks. did you know that? you must've. his green eyes flicker back up to your face, and for a moment, he loses himself enough to want to play into your game just a bit.
"i need a real reason why you need an extension." he reiterates, trying to act unaffected as he leaned forward, hands on his desk.
"oh," you chuckle briskly. "that. here it is."
you zipped yourself up before hopping down from the desk, picking up the same papers you'd strutted into his office with, straightening them out with a few aligning taps on the desk, and setting them in front of your professor.
glancing at it, izuku could see your name in the corner. and his name. and the course number, the due date, the title, the body text— everything. he scanned over it on his desk a few times to make sure he wasn't going crazy.
you... already completed the paper.
his face remained neutral, unamused. "...so that's it?" he looked up to face you. "you didn't need an extension, didn't need anything? then why come in here and ask?"
he walked around the desk to loom over you, leaning one hand on his desk as the other sat comfortably on his hip. you swallow with expectation.
"what, you just wanted my attention? just needed an excuse to saunter in here? huh?"
you just smiled.
izuku's expression was mostly unreadable, but his voice hinted at his annoyance and frustration... and also the enticement you'd been seeking. he lifted the hand on his hip up to his face to rub at his eyes and pinch the bridge of his nose. "you completed the paper." he repeats in a mumble to himself, as if disbelieving.
somehow, you managed to fully complete and hand in your paper early, even with all the time loss being busy with... he doesn't want to think about it.
"well? why did you come here, miss [surname]?" he speaks dryly, stepping forward as he repeats himself. you feel heat stirring within you, clenching your thighs together as he grew closer. "tell me." he says. you wouldn't dare step back now, but you do lean slightly as he stops in front of you, towering over you just a couple inches away. admittedly, he glances down your body, pausing at each bruise on your neck before returning to your face.
your face isn't grabbed, but you still feel like you're made to lift your chin and look up into his eyes.
"coming in here dressed like that just to get my attention. playing dumb and pouting. trying to use this assignment as an excuse to flaunt in front of me."
"sir?" you whispered as a response, full of heat— and expectance.
"yes, miss [surname]?" izuku replies, voice just as low. "something you want to ask me?" he sounds innocuous, but as his head tilts slightly to the side, he lifts his hand to brush his thumb over your bottom lip.
your lips part on instinct, and izuku glances at the clock on his wall.
🍓 pairing: jake sully x human fem reader x neytiri
🍓 tags: nsfw, best friend!jake, dilf jake cause i can't help myself, jealousy, allien cultural misunderstandings,size kink, alien genitalia, human x na'vi, oral sex (fem receiving), fingering, vaginal sex, threesomes
masterlist
reblogs are always enormously appreciated!
You have no idea how you’ve managed to get yourself into this position.
Well, that’s not strictly true. You suppose it all started with your best friend stuffing you full with his fingers until you had trembled apart in his arms.
You awake the morning after, loose-limbed and jelly-jointed with a sense of bone-deep satisfaction, naked limbs tangled with Jake’s big blue ones. He’s comically overlarge for your bed, his legs hanging off the edge of the mattress, and one of his big arms is looped lazily over your back.
You had expected things to be awkward afterwards, but when Jake finally stretches himself awake he just greets you with a yawn, slaps your ass, and asks if he’ll see you later on for dinner. When you agree he kisses the top of your head, wiggles his way back into his loincloth, and gives you a cheeky wink before sauntering out to return to the village.
You’re left bewildered and alone in your room. Truthfully, part of you had expected him to freak out a little over awaking naked in your bed after indulging in inappropriate activities with you the night before; maybe panic and call it all a crazy mistake. You certainly hadn’t expected him to act as though waking up with you naked in his arms was the most natural thing in the world.
You spend the day alternating between overthinking and relishing the memories of Jake’s hands on you. Good god, had you been missing out on that all along? He had seemed so casual about it all, as though it was simply a given that he would finger you to climax if that’s what you wanted.
You have to take a cold shower shortly after Jake leaves, partly to calm yourself down and partly to wash off the scent of Jake that still clings to you. If your dull human nose can pick up on it, you can only imagine that you must stink to a Na’vi, so you make sure to scrub at yourself with your berry-scented shower gel until you smell of nothing but artificial human soap.
You’re still a little nervous when you wander into the village later that day, but you’re greeted as enthusiastically as ever by the whole Sully family. Jake ruffles your hair and winks at you before clapping Neteyam on the shoulder and leading him off towards the cookfire to gather meat for the family.
You’re left with Kiri and Lo’ak, and you can’t help but smile as the kids start to shepherd you towards the usual spot where you all usually take meals.
“– and then Lo’ak fell all the way down and landed flat on his back,” Kiri is telling you a story with great relish, walking close to you. “And all the girls he had been trying to impress thought it was so funny–”
“It was on purpose.” Lo’ak blusters, picking up the pace so that he can come up on your other side and interject. “I was trying to make them laugh–”
“Oh yeah? Did you mean to burst into tears too–?”
“Shut up!” Lo’ak hisses at his sister, but it comes out as more of a whine. “I did not burst into tears!”
The familiar sound of their bickering soothes away the last of your nerves. Your shoulders loosen, and you start to smile as you follow the kids towards their usual spot for dinner. Neytiri is already sitting there with Tuk, brushing back her youngest daughter’s hair and murmuring softly to her.
Your stomach clenches at the sight of her; you have no idea how she’s going to react to you, and you have no idea how you should act around her. You’re still trying to wrap your head around the fact that Jake pleasuring you like that had been her idea, and you feel yourself start to sweat at the thought that she might act differently around you now.
As Kiri and Lo’ak approach the log where their mother is sitting, she looks up and smiles when she sees them. She really is very beautiful; her amber eyes are bright, the skin at the corner of her eyes crinkling up with joy at the sight of her children. She’s graceful even when she’s sitting down, her long limbs corded with lithe muscle as she stretches out next to Tuk.
Just the sight of her makes you feel clumsy and ungainly, and you feel your cheeks heat as you approach.
Her eyes flick from her kids to you where you’re following behind them, and you tense a little as you wait for her reaction. To your surprise, her face doesn’t contort into an expression of disgust like you had been expecting – her smile gets smaller, almost knowing, but no less genuine as you come to a halt by the log she’s sitting on.
Lo’ak and Kiri are still bickering as they flop down on a log next to their mother’s, but Neytiri is still looking at you. Her eyes flicker from your head to your toes rapidly, as though checking you for injuries.
You’re wearing the Na’vi clothes that have been gifted to you again today, and you shift a little self-consciously under her gaze. You feel more exposed than ever, and you’re hyper-aware of the subtle bruising around your tits from Jake’s teeth; you just pray that they’re not obvious to anyone else.
Neytiri reaches out to you, and you blink in bewilderment as she grabs at a string of broken beads on your top that you hadn’t even noticed before now. She peers at it critically, before looking up to your face with a small frown. For a moment you wonder if she’s angry at you, and feel your stomach sink rapidly until she speaks.
“He was gentle?” She asks quietly, and you twitch when her palm grazes the side of your breast. “He forgets himself, sometimes, and you are very weak.”
“I–” Your tongue feels too large in your mouth. You stumble over your words clumsily; your whole world has narrowed down to that one, confusing point of contact between Neytiri’s hand and the underside of your tit as she studies the broken string of beads. “He was– it was good.”
Neytiri hums, and you swear her mouth twitches as though she’s holding back a laugh. “You should have asked for it earlier. You know we would not have left you feeling neglected.”
You make an odd noise in the back of your throat, mortified. You dart a panicked look towards the kids, but Tuk has wandered over to Lo’ak and Kiri and they’re all laughing together a few feet away, blissfully ignorant of your conversation.
“I– I didn’t–”
Neytiri chooses to ignore your fumbling, instead leaning down closer to your chest so that she can tie the snapped string of your top. The back of her hand brushes over your nipple and you tremble, confused as warmth blooms in your lower belly.
“You have needs that must be met,” Neytiri murmurs, her voice low enough that it’s just for you. “You do not need to look elsewhere to have them maintained.”
Your heart leaps and your stomach flutters, and you hurriedly lower your gaze. This is far from the reaction you had expected from her, and it makes you nervous.
Stop it, you think furiously to yourself. They’re your friends! They’re married!
“Right.” You choke out, cheeks burning. “I– um… thanks.”
She nods, but then pauses. Her face is hovering close to your chest so that she can look closely at the snapped string of beads on your top, but she leans even closer as her nostrils flare. A small frown creases her brow, and her pretty golden eyes snap up to look at you. She’s so intense, and being caught up in her gaze like this has you feeling like a fly trapped in amber.
“You have used the demon soap.” She notes, still frowning.
One of her knuckles brush over your nipple as she fiddles with mending your top, and you end up jolting at the sensation as blood rushes to your face. You can only pray that she didn’t notice your reaction.
“Oh, yeah.” You choke out a reedy laugh. You know that the Na’vi don’t like the artificial, acrid smell of human soap, but you had figured it was the best way to get the scent of your activities from the night before off you. “I, uh… I reeked of Jake. Thought it would be best to wash it off before, um… coming back to the village.”
Neytiri hums with a frown, and with one last deft movement of her fingers, the broken tie on your top has been temporarily mended. However her hands linger somewhat strangely, and when she withdraws from you her wrist ends up rubbing a little oddly over the side of your neck. You have no idea what’s going on, and you have no idea how you should be reacting.
All you can do is swallow thickly, your throat bobbing against the warm skin of Neytiri’s wrist before she pulls away from you.
“It is good that Jake pleased you,” She says simply, turning her head to look casually towards the fire. When you follow her gaze, you see that Jake and Neteyam are returning from the cookfire with their hands full of food. “I worried that he would not.”
That makes you choke out a surprised laugh. “Wow. No faith in his abilities, huh?”
“It is not that,” Neytiri hums, though you can see the corner of her mouth curl in a repressed smile. “He was watching you all evening, getting worked up. I thought he may not be able to last long enough to satisfy you fully.”
That makes you laugh properly, surprised enough that you’re not able to hide your delight at hearing Neytiri roasting Jake. Your conversations with Neytiri alone don’t often poke fun at Jake, and you feel oddly thrilled by it. She offers you a small smirking smile, and you bite at your lip shyly as you return it.
You’re still stifling laughter when Jake and Neteyam reach you all again; Jake steps over to you and Neytiri as Neteyam carries his food over to the other kids.
“Hey, what’re my girls giggling about?” Jake drawls, sitting heavily next to you on the log. He’s holding several nikt'chey filled with sweet meat and vegetables in one large hand, and a little wooden carved bowl full of teylu in the other.
Neytiri grabs at a plant-based nikt'chey, but instead of eating it she passes it to you. You smile, flattered; teylu is an important food for the Na’vi, but you’ve never enjoyed the texture of the little grub worms. You’ve spent so many years sharing meals with the Sully’s, but it still surprises you when she shows that she’s noticed your preferences.
“I was asking about your performance,” Neytiri says casually, her expression growing coy. “Tawtute believes you could have been better.”
If that pricks at Jake’s pride, he doesn’t show it. He just laughs as though Neytiri has told a very funny joke, before he turns to you. He wraps an arm around your waist and hauls you up into his lap, still clutching his food in the other hand – the motion is so familiar for the both of you that he’s able to situate you across his thighs with ease, even one-handed.
Jake has been pulling you into his lap at mealtimes for a long time now, and yet this time feels different. His hand lingers around your waist, coasts briefly over your thigh. He’s always been touchy, but this time your brain keeps offering up memories from the night before; his big hot hands touching you, his mouth devouring you, his low voice murmuring insistently in your ear.
Your face burns, but you’re determined not to show it. You don’t want to be the one to make this weird.
“Now I know that’s a lie,” Jake croons, his breath warm on the back of your ear as he leans towards Neytiri. “You should have heard her cry–”
“Oh my god,” You hiss, whirling in Jake’s lap to slap at his chest hard enough that your hand stings. “I did not cry, you unbearable jackass–”
“It is normal to be overwhelmed by pleasure after so long of…” Neytiri pauses, her brow pinching just slightly as though she’s trying to remember specific phrasing that she’s heard before. “‘Not getting any.’”
Your jaw actually drops. The sound of the human phrase dropping from her lips is jarring, even more so when you know that it’s Jake she heard it from.
“Oh, you guys are the worst.” You grumble, curling into yourself in mortification.
The two of them snicker together as you scowl, and Jake pats your flank as though trying to calm an irritated cat. Neytiri, at least, bites at her lip and tries to hide her amusement.
“No shame in it, honey,” Jake says, and you can hear the stupid grin in his voice. “I’m just very good.”
You roll your eyes so hard that it almost makes you dizzy, and when you glance to the side you see that Neytiri has a similar expression on her face; this time, it’s your turn to laugh with her, with Jake as the subject of your snickering.
“Do not get too confident, ma Jake,” Neytiri croons, leaning in so that she’s resting her body against his side. “You have only pleasured her once, and it cannot have been that good – she has not said much about it.”
Jake makes a sound of pure offense even as he wraps the arm that’s not holding you around Neytiri’s shoulders. “What? Nah, she loved it. C’mon, honey, help me out here.”
Neytiri’s eyes slide to you as she takes a dainty bite of her food, and you can see the conspiratorial little smile that she’s trying to hide. Your own lips start to twitch in response, and you hide your own reaction behind your nikt'chey.
“Oh,” You say lightly, keeping your expression as neutral as possible. “He was okay.”
Instead of wounding his pride, your ribbing just makes him laugh. His arm tightens around your belly, holding you close to his chest as he ruffles Neytiri’s hair – she hisses playfully at him, though he just grins at her.
“Oh, you asshole,” He murmurs into your ear, his chest rumbling against your back as his bulk looms over you, “What, I wasn’t nice enough to you? I wouldn’t have known it from all the whimpering.”
Blood rushes to your face, and you barely suppress the urge to hide your face completely in your hands. You hold the nikt'chey up in front of your masked face in an attempt to hide, mortified when Neytiri chuckles softly.
“Alright,” She says, reaching out to pat at your thigh with her large, slender hand. “Enough. Tawtute is embarrassed.”
Jake just snickers, but mercifully gives up on his playful bantering in favour of taking a large bite of his own nikt'chey. His hand stays firmly planted across your middle, large thumb stroking over your exposed skin there every couple of moments. His touchiness isn’t anything new, but your skin is hot and sensitive and you have to fight back shivers every time he caresses your bare skin. Your stomach is alive with butterflies, shy arousal simmering at a low boil deep in your belly.
You’re antsy, and it’s only made worse by the fact that Neytiri still hasn’t removed her hand from your thigh. It just lingers there as she leans into Jake’s side, as though it’s just perfectly natural and comfortable for her to allow her touch to idle around the exposed skin of your thigh.
You wonder distantly if you’re reading too much into this. Jake has always been touchy, and it’s not that unusual that Neytiri has left her large, soft palm resting against the expanse of your thigh with her fingers curling absently around the sensitive skin of your inner knee.
Sure, it might feel as though you’re boiling up a little on the inside from the overwhelming contact of their big hands on your exposed body, but you push your reaction down the best you can. Maybe you’re just super conscious now that the nature of your relationship has changed. It seems like you’re the only one that feels that shift though, because Jake and Neytiri are so casual about the way they’re touching you, as though nothing has changed at all.
You’re so busy trying to appear calm and measured and entirely unaffected that you hardly notice when Jake pauses his eating to turn his face towards you with a curious frown. He sniffs at you once, twice, before glancing towards Neytiri and raising an eyebrow with a barely stifled smirk.
She just blinks back at him innocently, though there’s an unmistakable look of mischief about her eyes – whatever they’re communicating about silently, Jake seems to find it amusing.
The interaction flies mostly over your head, too distracted with the way Jake’s thigh flexes beneath you when he shifts on the log and the way Neytiri has started to draw absent-minded little patterns around your kneecap. While Jake has always been clingy, Neytiri has always been more reserved in herself. Now, with her touching you like this, you feel absolutely thrown. It’s like someone has turned on a white noise machine in your head; all you can hear is static.
“Sa’nu,” Tuk warbles from a few feet away. “Lo’ak is being mean to me.”
“I am not! Tuk, stop being such a snitch–”
Neytiri’s eyes turn sharp, and she whirls to glare at her children. “What is happening over there?”
Jake rests his chin on your shoulder as he allows his wife to take the lead on dealing with the children. It’s comfortable, and you allow yourself to melt back into his embrace, like usual. Everything feels so normal, as though last night was just a fever dream.
As Neytiri scolds the children, Jake turns his face so that his flat, cat-like nose is nuzzling into your temple. It’s almost like he’s heard your thoughts and wants to brush them away.
“You okay?” Jake murmurs in your ear. “Last night wasn’t too much?”
You laugh a little wheezily. “No, it– no. It was… it was great. I was only joking, before.”
“Yeah, I know.” He snorts, “You’ve never been a good liar, anyway.”
“Fuck off,” You grumble, wriggling on his lap and nudging your elbow back into his stomach. He groans, but you can tell he’s exaggerating the amount of pain he’s in. “Your dick isn’t nearly as big as your head is, you know that?”
Jake lets out a startled, full-belly laugh at that, his head tilting back as his arm tightens around your middle. He seems to find that very amusing, and he’s still snickering when he leans in to press a kiss to your temple under the strap of your mask.
Your stomach trembles a little, and you can’t help yourself from leaning back into the warmth of his chest – Jake has always expressed his affection physically, satisfying your own desperate skin hunger, but now that you’ve experienced his touch more intimately you find yourself craving more in a way that’s beginning to freak you out a little. You’ve never really thought about Jake like this before, and you can’t help but feel guilty.
After all, you’re the one who’s looking at him differently now – as far as you’re aware, nothing has changed for Jake. Though he seems very flirty, that’s the way he always is! The only reason he had touched you like that last night was because he wanted to help you out.
Neytiri turns back from the children after giving them one last warning glare, shuffling a little closer and tilting her head so she’s peering down at you. Her hand is still on your knee; it hadn’t shifted an inch even when she had turned to hiss at the children, and now she squeezes at it a little to get your attention.
“What is funny?” She wonders.
You clear your throat, a little flustered, and mutter, “Your husband is a moron.”
Neytiri’s lips twitch, and she darts an amused look over your head at Jake as his head looms over your shoulder.
“Yes,” She agrees. “He is a skxawng.”
“Alright, alright,” Jake says hastily, adjusting you on his lap so that you’re pulled right back against his chest, “No ganging up on me, thanks. Besides, I know you both love me.”
Neytiri makes eye contact with you, then gives you a conspiratorial little eye roll. You giggle, impossibly pleased with the sense of camaraderie between the two of you. You even push your knee a little further into her hand, enjoying the contact.
“Will there be more dancing later?” You wonder, turning to look back at Neytiri with a smile. You remember the wondrous dancing from the night before, and find yourself hoping to catch a glimpse of the mating season dancing once more.
Neytiri hesitates, her head tilting to the side like she’s confused. “You are very interested in mating season,” She says slowly. “Even still.” She turns and gives Jake a strange look – one that’s almost chiding.
You’re not sure you know what she means, so you just shrug. “The dancing was pretty. I enjoyed watching it.”
Neytiri hums thoughtfully, her mouth twitching. Her chiding expression turns playful, and she leans in to murmur to you, “We will dance for you later, if you wish to see it.”
You almost do a double take at that, eyes growing wide as you choke on your own saliva in surprise. Behind you, Jake laughs at your reaction, his fingers stroking absently over the soft skin of your belly. It takes a moment for you to register that Neytiri must have been joking, and then you laugh nervously, unsure how to respond.
Jake just snickers, and leans over to nudge at Neytiri’s shoulder. You’re still not used to how beautiful Jake and Neytiri are, how perfectly matched. They ebb and flow against each other, always communicating with just looks or gestures. Jake has always been pure raw passion, while Neytiri is more intimate and reserved about her emotions. They compliment each other so well, something you’ve always admired about them.
You’ve always thought that you would love to find something like that for yourself, but now it’s like your thoughts have taken a turn. Now it’s like you’re looking at them and wanting them; it feels as though your brain is rotting from the inside out.
The village is bustling full of life, the smell of sweet meat sizzling and the sounds of the People laughing and children squealing filling the air for dinnertime. You force yourself to relax in Jake’s arms, trying to act casual in the face of his and Neytiri’s teasing – fucking your friend was one thing, but now you find yourself utterly flustered at the thought of him and his wife dancing for you, of thinking about where things might go from there.
It’s a mercy when Lo’ak shuffles over, his presence promptly putting an end to any suggestive conversation. You’re almost desperately grateful; you don’t think you’d be able to survive much more of their teasing.
Lo’ak is quiet when he settles next to Jake, a little moody. It seems that he’s come over less because he actually wants to talk to his parents, and more because he’s trying to escape Kiri, who is still teasing him over whatever embarrassing mistake he had made while training.
Undeterred by Lo’ak’s scowl, you lean over and give him a little smile. You’ve always had a soft spot for Lo’ak – you love all the Sully kids, of course, but Lo’ak has always been your secret little favourite. The kid is funny, so like Jake, and so starved for recognition in a way that you recognise from yourself. When you reach out to pat his head, he leans into your touch with a little pout.
“Are they bullying you?” You ask teasingly, brushing his braids back in an attempt to neaten them.
Lo’ak just scowls even fiercer, but he doesn’t move away from your hand. “Kiri’s being an asshole.”
“Hey!” Jake says sharply. “Don’t talk like that about your sister.”
You offer Lo’ak a sympathetic little smile, before leaning over to whisper, “Are you still upset about falling out of that tree?”
Lo’ak’s ears pin back as he winces, clearly embarrassed. “I didn’t fall. I slipped.”
“Ah,” You murmur, fighting a smile. “Of course. Completely different.”
From there, the evening mellows into a familiar, laid-back atmosphere that you’re familiar with. Spending time with the Sullys like this has always been easy, and you find yourself almost deliriously relieved that nothing has changed. You had been so anxious that sleeping with Jake would have totally ruined the dynamic between you and the whole family.
To tell the truth, you’re not quite sure what to make of the fact that it hasn’t.
You sit sprawled across Jake’s lap all evening, with one of Neytiri’s hands settled over your knee. Jake is always pulling you across his large striped thighs, supporting you with a massive arm around your back, but this somehow feels even more intimate than usual; or maybe it’s all in your head.
You try not to think too hard about it. After everyone has finished eating, the children all come to gather around Jake as he tells stories. Both you and Neytiri exchange eyerolls frequently – Jake is predictable, and always chooses the same tales to tell.
“—Your mother tried to kill me when we first met. She thought I was a moron, but I thought she was beautiful.”
Tuk looks absolutely enchanted by the story, despite having heard it a hundred times. Even Kiri, at the peak of her teenage angst, is listening with a little smile on her face.
Neytiri snorts, but she’s smiling too. “I still think you are a moron, yawntu.”
The kids laugh, and you hide a smile of your own. You feel at home here, with Jake’s family like this. That usual sense of pervasive loneliness that usually haunts you is entirely absent, chased away by Jake and Neytiri’s warm touches.
“What about um’ma?” Tuk asks, shifting closer with a bright smile on her face as she turns her attention towards you. “Tell us about how you met um’ma, dad!”
You had been getting sleepy, but her question wakes you right up. The kids have always called you um’ma, for as long as you can remember. It’s like an affectionate name for mom, as far as you’re aware. You’ve always sort of assumed that it’s somewhat teasing. You know it’s not entirely unusual for Na’vi children to refer to older female figures in affectionate terms like that – the school children had called Grace sa’nok, a much more formal name.
“Oh, god,” You breathe with a little wince. “No, that’s not–”
But it’s too late. Jake is only delighted to tell that story, too.
“The first time we met, your um’ma walked right past me.” Jake says, launching into his story before you can stop him. “I was trying to catch her attention, and she didn’t even look at me once.”
“I didn’t see you–!” You attempt to protest, but Jake steamrolls ahead.
“I was in my wheelchair, so I was shorter than her–”
“Shorter than um’ma?” Tuk whispers in what sounds like bewilderment, her big eyes swinging towards you as if she wants to double-check your height.
“–and she didn’t see me when she turned around, so she actually elbowed me in the face when I tried to get closer to her to talk to her. Gave me a bloody nose and everything.”
To your horror, the kids are acting as if they’re already heard this before. Neteyam is nodding along with Jake, and Lo’ak is already snickering. Tuk looks as enchanted with this story as she did with Jake’s story about meeting their mother, starry-eyed as she leans on Kiri. Your stomach flips – how often has Jake told them this story?
“I was trying to impress her, and she didn’t even look at me once.” Jake is still laughing, leaning forward over your shoulder so he can see his kids properly. “So you can imagine how embarrassed I was, after the pretty girl I had been trying to chat up completely ignores me and then nearly breaks my goddamn nose–”
You blink, startled. What?
Jake has teased you about your first meeting several times over the years, always delighting in the fact that you had been so awkwardly clumsy, but you had never actually heard him recount the full thing from start to finish before. You had certainly never heard it told like that before.
“You were flirting with me?” You blurt out. For a moment you’re worried that you had misinterpreted what he meant and that he might laugh at you, but no such thing happens.
Instead, Jake tips his head back and lets out a groaned little sigh. “Oh, come on. You didn’t even notice?”
Lo’ak looks delighted with this news, and nudges at Neteyam. “Dude! Dad has no game!”
Jake shoots Lo’ak an irritated sort of look, his pride clearly somewhat stung, but his youngest son doesn’t even seem to notice. Lo’ak seems to be too busy reveling in the fact that his father isn’t as smooth as he thought; in fact, he looks far too pleased about this little revelation.
“I have loads of game.” Jake argues, turning to the rest of his family as though seeking backup. Neytiri looks down, visibly hiding a smirk, and says nothing at all. “Your um’ma is just a difficult woman to impress.”
You’re still gawking at him, bewildered by the turn of the conversation. You’ve been friends with Jake for a long time, and he’s always been playfully flirty – that’s just his character. He makes cheeky jokes, he’s touchy, he calls you teasing nicknames, he gives you affectionate little kisses. That’s just Jake! He’s always been like this! And yet right now, he sounds as though he’s being serious about his flirting.
You look at Neytiri, still a little bewildered, but she has a wry sort of smile on her face as Jake defends himself. And that confuses you even more. Her hand is still on your thigh, her fingers stroking absently over the soft skin there. The caress is sure and unhurried; it’s a kind of patience possessed by predators who are sure of their prey. You’ve never experienced a touch like this from Neytiri before. Your skin is a little too tight, your breaths a little too shallow.
You feel like you’re losing your mind. It’s almost a relief when you’re interrupted, although you hardly even notice Ola’netu’s approaching figure until he’s stopped only a few feet from where you’re all sitting.
It’s Neytiri that notices him first, as evidenced by the way her hand tightens around your thigh, but you soon feel Jake tense beneath you as well.
“Olo’eyktan,” Ola’netu greets, his head dipping as he greets Jake with the traditional greeting gesture. “I see you.”
Jake’s hands flex at your hips, but he offers Ola’netu a stiffly polite smile all the same. Foregoing any greeting of his own, Jake simply says, “What can I do for you?”
Ola’netu straightens, and his big golden eyes land squarely on you. It’s unnerving to be on the receiving end of his sharp gaze, and you swallow nervously as your cheeks flare red. It’s… a surprisingly bold move on his part, approaching you like this when you’re having dinner with the Sully’s. Jake has always been a little overprotective of you, on account of you being so much smaller and more fragile, and right now his brow is drawing into a scowl that’s honestly intimidating.
“I wish to speak to tawtute.” Ola’netu says. Though his tone is perfectly polite, the fact that he’s not actually looking at Jake is clearly making your friend antsy; he shifts under you, adjusting you on his lap, and holds you tight.
The silence that follows is awkward. You had been so blown away by the exciting strangeness of having messed around with Jake, and then the way that Neytiri had been caressing you, that you had forgotten about Ola’netu entirely.
At your side, Lo’ak straightens up from where he had been slouching lazily. He’s got a little frown on his face, though he’s clearly a little confused, and he looks so much like Jake in that moment that it’s a little bewildering. He leans in a bit closer to you where you’re sitting on Jake’s lap, and all of a sudden it’s like you have two Sully guard dogs with their ears pricked up.
“Yeah,” You say, suddenly awkward. “Right, of course.”
It’s a bit of a struggle to get out of Jake’s lap. Not only do you have his hands holding onto your waist, but Neytiri is holding your thigh and Lo’ak keeps shuffling closer into your space. You actually have to practically worm your way out of their grip, before you stand in front of them all panting with the effort. You scowl a little at Jake, and he purses his lips in that way he does when he’s annoyed about something before he offers you a quick shrug.
Ola’netu leads you a couple of steps away from the family, before stopping just out of earshot and turning to you with a smile. He even bends down so that he’s at eye level with you. The village is bustling full of life, and the sounds of the People laughing and children squealing fill the air. Despite the hive of activity around you, you’re hyper aware of the stares of the entire Sully family burning into your back.
Ola’netu must notice the fact that the two of you are being watched closely, but he gives no indication of it. “I am pleased to see you here. Can I get you food?”
“Oh,” You get a little flustered at his offer, trying hard not to look over your shoulder at the Sullys. “Um… I’ve already eaten.”
Ola’netu glances over your shoulder, presumably looking at Jake, before his eyes fall back to your face. It’s a little difficult to read him; there’s a friendly little smile on his face, but there’s a small furrow in his brow that suggests he’s confused.
“Jakesully watches you closely.” He notes, his tone careful. “He is… always looking.”
“Oh, he’s a little protective.” You laugh nervously. “Don’t mind him.”
Ola’netu’s eyes linger on your face a moment. There’s a beat of silence as nostrils flare; you’ve seen Jake do this often enough to realise that he’s scenting you. It’s an embarrassing thought, made even worse when his brows furrow.
“Ah.” He says after a moment, his head tilting a little. He looks confused, as though he doesn’t quite know what to make of you. “He has scent-marked you. Neytiri too.”
Your hand flies up to hold your neck. “They what?”
Ola’netu hums, and reaches out to brush his fingers over the spot where Neytiri’s wrist had brushed earlier. Had that been an accident? Surely she would never have done such a thing on purpose.
He’s still watching your face closely. “I do not want to… misunderstand. You always smell of Jakesully but… they have not yet claimed you?”
You nearly do a double take. Claimed you? You don’t even know how to begin unpacking that. You wonder if there’s some sort of cultural nuance that you’re missing here. Your fluency in the Na’vi language is advanced, but even still you sometimes mistranslate or misunderstand things.
“Jake is my best friend.” You say with an awkward smile, hoping that answers his question.
You think of the way Jake had stuffed your pussy full with his fingers the night before, and the way Neytiri had been so subtly brushing her fingers over your tits earlier that evening, and you wonder how on earth to explain your relationship with them. Not even you fully understand it. They’re your friends, but even you have to admit that it often feels like… more than that. They feel like home in a way that the human outpost never has, and yet you have to admit that the dynamic feels a little different now.
“They look after me.” You continue stupidly. It’s the only way you can think of to explain.
Ola’netu looks thoughtful, but he nods slowly. “I see. But they have not…”
As Ola’netu trails off, his brow furrows in a contemplative frown. It seems as though he’s thinking about his next words very carefully.
You dart a quick glance over your shoulder. It’s not much of a surprise to find Jake and Neytiri watching you closely (just like they had the last time Ola’netu had approached you), but it is somewhat of a surprise to see that the kids are all watching you with hawk-like eyes as well. You offer them an awkward, close-mouthed smile to try and ease the tension. The only one who returns it is Tuk, who throws in a cute little wave as well.
Finally, Ola’netu seems to find his words. “They have not yet mated with you, have they? I cannot… I cannot tell from your scent. You smell like Jakesully… but you always smell of him.”
Your mouth flaps open and closed moronically. Oh god. The bold line of questioning leaves you completely flustered. You hadn’t expected him to be so forthright about things, and you’re certainly not prepared to admit that you had let Jake finger you until you were limp and drooling in his arms only the night before.
“I… I don’t- I mean, no, they haven’t mated with me.” You say when you finally gather yourself enough to answer. “They’re- they’re mated with each other!”
That makes Ola’netu crack a smile, as though amused by your reaction.
“It is not unusual for a mated pair to take on a third. Jake and Neytiri have not discussed this with you?” Ola’netu asks. When you shake your head, his big golden eyes dart over your shoulder towards where Jake and Neytiri are sitting behind you. “I had thought… they act as though…”
Ola’netu doesn’t finish that thought, though you wait for him to. The resulting silence is a little awkward, but then Ola’netu creeps forward a little. He doesn’t reach for you, though it looks as though he’s thinking about it.
You shift on your feet a little awkwardly, and scratch at your elbow. Now that you’re actually in front of Ola’netu, you feel incredibly awkward. You’ve been looking at the Na’vi in a rather hungry way for a while now, and yet now that you’re faced with a male who actually seems interested in you, all you can think about is the way Jake had touched you the night before.
It’s like the floodgates have opened inside your brain. You’ve been around Jake and Neytiri for years now, and yet now you feel shivery and bubbly with simmering arousal after experiencing their attention all evening. You wonder if there’s something wrong with you.
This is your best friend and his wife! You feel like a weirdo for thinking about them like that.
“You are interested in Na’vi?” Ola’netu’s tail lashes behind him as he watches you.
You swallow thickly. Oh, you feel totally out of your depth now. You can feel the eyes of the Sullys boring into you as you speak with Ola’netu; you’re just grateful they can’t hear what you’re saying, because you don’t think you’d be able to live the embarrassment down.
“Um… Yeah.” You say faintly.
Your brain decides unhelpfully to offer up memories of Jake’s big hands and pretty blue skin from the night before, and the ridiculous size of his dick. Jake may have only touched you like that so that you could experience being with a Na’vi for the first time, but you think he may also have unintentionally ruined you for anyone else. Your mind just keeps replaying the encounter in your head like it’s a damn slideshow.
“But… you do not accept Jakesully and Neytiri?” Ola’netu speaks slowly, as though approaching a sensitive topic.
All you can do is blink, wondering if you’re misunderstanding what he’s asking you. It sounds as though he thinks that you’re the one making the final decision here, as though you’re the one with the power. The thought is comical.
“I’m not sure I…” You trail off, bewildered. “What do you mean ‘accept’ them?”
“As mates. They seem to be waiting for your decision.” Ola’netu murmurs, his eyes darting back over your shoulder towards when Jake and Neytiri are no doubt still watching. “But you must be a difficult creature to impress.”
That’s so similar to what Jake had said earlier that you find yourself floundering. That couldn’t have been what Jake had meant though, surely? You feel as though you’ve been struck dumb – the connotations of what Ola’netu is suggesting is almost more than you can handle, and yet he keeps on talking before you can actually wrap your head around it.
“Perhaps it is that you are not ready to take on a mate?” Ola’netu says, his big golden eyes peering into your face. It seems as though he’s having difficulty assessing your thoughts thanks to your alien human features. “I, too, am not ready for a mate. But if it is exploring you are interested in–”
You’re hardly listening to a word he says. You think back rather frantically to every reaction you’ve had with Jake and Neytiri for the past several years. It’s true that you’ve always been close, probably closer than any other relationship you’ve ever had in your life.
You spend almost all of your time with them when you’re not at the human outpost, you sleep in their bed when you stay over with them, their children call you um’ma. And that’s not to mention the tactile nature of your relationship with Jake. But that’s how Jake has always been, even when he was human!
Okay… maybe you can see where Ola’netu’s coming from with his assumptions.
“Wait,” You choke out, interrupting whatever the hell Ola’netu had been saying. “Hang on, are you… are you saying that everyone thinks that I’m– that Jake and Neytiri are–”
You can’t even figure out how to put your thoughts into words. You end up just standing there, gawping at Ola’netu like an idiot as your brain tries to sort all of this out.
Ola’netu frowns, tilting his head in honest confusion. “I had thought that you were mated for many years. But maybe they are just courting you?”
You positively goggle at him, struck dumb. You don’t think you could form a reply even if you wanted to.
It should be a ridiculous notion. Jake has been your friend for years! Sure, you might be closer than most friends, but that’s just how you two have always been. And Neytiri has become your friend too, treating you like family and even welcoming you into her and Jake’s bed whenever you happen to stay the night. If Ola’netu had told you this a week ago, you might have even laughed at his questions. But now, after your experimentation with Jake and all of his and Neytiri’s suggestive touches and comments today, you find yourself baffled.
You never get the chance to respond. Footsteps sound from behind you, and Ola’netu’s eyes flicker above your head as a warm body presses close to your back. You glance over your shoulder, expecting to see Jake – you’re surprised to find that it’s Neytiri who’s standing at your back, watching Ola’netu with sharp eyes.
“Come,” Neytiri murmurs to you, but her eyes remain fixed on Ola’netu. “You have not finished eating.”
You hesitate for a moment, staring up at her. You wonder if you’re losing your mind – Neytiri is so beautiful, her features sharp and bold and her golden eyes intense as she stares down Ola’netu. There’s an awkward silence, but then you start to nod.
“I’ll, um… see you later.” You say to Ola’netu, but your heart’s not in it. You’re distracted, sending uncertain glances up at Neytiri. Ola’netu nods and raises a hand to wave, but you’re already stepping after Neytiri as she leads you back towards the family with a large slender hand pressed between your shoulderblades.
Jake is sitting on the log where you left him, but he’s leaning forward with his elbows resting on his knees as he watches you return with Neytiri. He’s frowning, his ears twitching; he looks strangely alert, although some of the stiffness in his shoulders eases as you and Neytiri join him again. The kids are all gathered nearby, and you can see them exchanging looks with each other in a little silent conversation.
You feel embarrassed that they all just witnessed you chatting with Ola’netu, but you try to shake it off. You’ve got nothing to be embarrassed about, after all, and it’s not like they heard you.
“What was that all about, sweetheart?” Jake asks when you get close enough, already reaching out to try and pull you into his lap.
But for the first time, possibly ever, you resist. You pull your arm back, refusing to go, and Jake blinks at you in bewilderment. You feel sort of guilty, but your head is spinning so fast that you feel dizzy – you need space, and time to think and sort out all of these bizarre thoughts and revelations.
“I’m… I’m going to head to bed, I think.” You blurt, taking a step back.
Hurt flashes across Jake’s face, and he sits up straighter. In all your years of knowing each other, you’ve never pushed Jake away like this.
“You are not staying with us tonight?” Neytiri asks with a discontented frown. She sits down next to Jake on the log, and you think you see her nudge him hard in the side.
You shake your head, swallowing thickly. Normally, you’d be only too delighted to spend the night, but everything has happened so fast and you need time to think.
“No, I’ll just… I’ll see you guys tomorrow.” You murmur, forcing a smile as you step back.
Your expression can’t be very convincing, because the kids exchange another look before turning to look at their parents. Lo’ak stands, looking between his parents before turning to look at you.
“I’ll walk you back, um’ma–” He starts to say, but he’s cut off when Neytiri grabs his shoulder and pulls him back down.
Jake stands instead, and rests his hand on your shoulder. “I’ll walk you back.” He says, squeezing lightly.
You can’t bring yourself to refuse the offer — the forests of Pandora are deadly for a human alone, and you can’t afford to go without an escort. You bite your lip, before nodding jerkily. This is fine. Jake is just looking out for you as a friend, like he always is. You’re the one that’s acting weird! You need to pull yourself together.
The walk home is awkwardly silent. You’re lost in your thoughts, replaying every interaction you’ve had this evening and picking them apart obsessively in your head. Meanwhile, Jake ambles along at your side, matching your pace perfectly. He’s equally as quiet, but he keeps darting looks at you out of the corner of his eyes. Jake is many things, but he’s never been subtle.
By the time you reach the outpost, hardly a word has been shared between the two of you. Jake has started tapping his fingers against his thigh, and the frequency of his glances have increased yet again. He clears his throat, and finally speaks up.
“So, uh… did you enjoy dinner, honey?” He asks. The levity in his voice is rather forced, and it contrasts with the little frown creasing his forehead.
You hum, but you’re distracted. “Mm, sure. It was fine.”
Jake bites at his lip for a second, obviously thinking. His nose twitches, nostrils flaring. He leans a little closer, and you can see his pretty golden eyes dart to your neck.
“Did he touch you there?” Jaks asks. A scowl creases his brow as he reaches out to brush his fingers over your throat, right where Ola’netu had touched where Neytiri had scented.
You jerk back, and then it’s like the floodgates open. You’re unable to keep your thoughts to yourself any longer.
“What the fuck is going on, Jake?” You blurt, eyes wide and bewildered as you take a step back. “I don’t– I’m so confused. Last night was– but then today! You were so– and then Neytiri as well! I don’t understand, and then Ola’netu said– but I don’t get it–”
Jake’s expression drops, all pretence at cheerfulness abandoned. He takes a knee instantly to put himself down at your level, his eyes wide and a little panicked.
“Whoa, whoa, slow down, sweetheart. What’s the problem? Deep breath.” He says, his voice low and soothing as he tries to shush you. He reaches out and puts his hands on your shoulders, his thumbs stroking delicately over your skin.
You push his hands away, still reeling. “Ola’netu thought we were mates. As in, you, Neytiri, and me.”
You wait for a moment, and allow that to sink in. You’re not entirely certain what you’re expecting his reaction to be; will he laugh at that ridiculous notion? Will he be horrified? Disgusted?
But instead, Jake’s face wobbles, as though he can’t hide his expression fast enough.
“He… and yet he was trying to put moves on you anyway?” He says, his nose scrunching in distaste as his fangs glint in the moonlight.
You gape at him. Jake misses the point so damn often it’s like he does it on purpose, but the fact that he doesn’t see that you’re being serious about this infuriates you.
“Jake!” You hiss, fists clenching at your side. “You’re not even listening–!”
“I’m listening, I’m listening–” Jake throws his hands up in a gesture of surrender.
“You said that you’d help me– or, or that you’d help me experience Na’vi… um, bodies, and it was… it was really good, but– I thought that– I don’t know, I just– you said that you were going to guide me through it before I went messing around with other Na’vi–”
Jake’s ears have folded back against the side of his head, and he listens to you with a frown. “I didn’t think you’d actually want to mess around with other Na’vi after I took care of you–”
“Oh what, you think your dick is just that good?” You fold your arms across your chest immediately, scowling.
Jake pauses for a moment, and you see his mouth begin to twitch into a smile. Your temper flares, and you glare furiously at him.
“Don’t you dare.” You warn, already knowing that he has some smart remark planned.
Jake breathes a soft laugh, but then hastily wipes his expression clean when he catches sight of the glint in your eye. He sighs, and reaches up to scratch the back of his neck. He looks a little ridiculous kneeling in the dirt and bending over so that he’s on your level, his expression open and conciliatory.
“Honey, I don’t understand what’s wrong–”
“Stop calling me honey!”
Jake gapes at you. You’ve never shouted at him like that; in all the years you’ve known each other, you’ve never gotten so mad at him that you’d yell, and you’ve never once told him to not call you by his cutesy nicknames. For the first time, Jake seems to actually realise that you’re in turmoil over here.
“Tell me what’s wrong.” He says, and his voice has lost all trace of levity and humour. His expression is serious now, as though he’s dedicating his full attention to solving this problem.
You groan, reaching up to scrub at your face. You can barely even sort through your own thoughts in your head, you have no idea how to effectively go about communicating your feelings here. Throwing delicacy to the wind, you take a deep breath.
“I think I have a crush on you!” You yell close to hysterics. “And it’s ruining my life! I mean, fuck! I’m ruining everything just cause I can’t control myself–”
Jake’s ears twitch and his tail lashes wildly, as though he momentarily loses control of his extremities. His eyes go big and round, and you wonder if this is it – have you fucked everything up?
You had such a good thing going with the Sully family, and the thought of you ruining it just because you got flustered over Jake and Neytiri touching you in a way that was probably meant to be friendly anyway makes you feel ill.
“Baby, come on. We’re practically married anyway, a crush is a good thing.” Jake says, reaching out to take a hold of your elbows. He shuffles closer on his knees, his back bowing as he ducks down to look you in the face.
His expression is open and earnest, and there’s a faint trace of urgency in his eyes as he watches your reaction, and yet you find yourself rearing back and searching his face desperately for any hint of a lie.
“What do you–” You start to say uncertainly, but Jake keeps going before you can finish.
“The kids call you um’ma, you sleep in our bed, you do everything with us. You’re– I mean, we’re crazy for you. Can’t you see that?” Jake’s forehead is all creased up as he tries to keep your attention on him. “We’ve– we’ve been together for years–”
“What?” You blurt, bewildered. “We– no. We’ve been friends. You called me your best friend last night even when you had your goddamn face between my legs–”
“We always call each other that! It’s like… it’s like a bit or something–” He looks helplessly confused. “When you talked about Ola’netu I thought you were just curious, or that you just wanted to experiment or something–”
“Why would you not tell me!” You shriek, throwing your hands up in the air. You feel like an absolute madwoman, and Jake is regarding you like you’re something fragile about to shatter. “Oh my god– so, you and Neytiri have been married for years, and the whole time everyone has thought that I’m just some sad loser that follows the two of you everywhere–”
“No!” Jake says, and now he’s raising his voice too. “No, that’s not what I meant! I meant that you’ve been part of our family this whole time. You must have known that–”
Oh god, you’re getting overwhelmed. Confused and embarrassed tears begin pricking at your eyes, and Jake’s entire face drops when he realises that you’re about to cry.
“How would I have known that, Jake?!” You’re shouting loud enough that you’re certain the scientists inside the outpost can hear you, but mercifully no one comes to check what’s going on. “You’ve never said anything! The only time you’ve ever touched me in a way that suggests we’re more than friends is last night–!”
“It never occurred to me to say anything!” He’s clearly fighting not to raise his voice, trying to keep calm and composed. “I didn’t realise that you didn’t– baby, I have plenty of friends. How many of them spend the night in our bed, or sit on my lap? How many of them do I kiss–”
“I don’t know! You’re a friendly guy!” You yell back, painfully aware of how stupid you sound right now. “But– it doesn’t matter how touchy you were, you never actually did anything! And yet now you expect me to believe that you really wanted me all this time–”
“I didn’t think you were interested!” Jake bursts out. “You never talked about sex, not until last night! I’ve been hinting for years, I just thought that you weren’t into sex or intimacy that way– which is fine by the way, me and Neytiri never minded that, you know that we’d take you anyway we could have you–”
“I’m only human, Jake! I have– I have needs!” Your cheeks are absolutely burning, but you manage to hold eye contact with him. “I mean, you never said anything! So I’ve been sitting lonely in the human outpost while you and Neytiri have been having babies–”
“You–” Jake’s ears flick desperately, “You want a baby?”
“NO!” You yell, flustered and frustrated.
“What?” Jake breathes to himself so quietly that you nearly miss it. He shakes his head quickly, as though trying to clear his head. “Okay, okay, I screwed up, obviously. I should have been more upfront, I should have talked things through with you, I shouldn’t have just assumed we were all on the same page, I get that. But honey, you’ve always been a huge part of our family, we’ve been bringing you gifts of jewelry and clothes and food for years–”
Fuck, you feel so mixed up and confused. You run your hands frustratedly over your face, already shaking your head. Jake is getting steadily more frantic as he talks, clearly seeing that you’re beginning to withdraw.
He tries to take your hand but you step back, chewing at your lip.
“Stop. Jake, stop for a minute.” You groan, turning away from him so that you can breathe for a moment. Your breath rasps through your mask, and abruptly you feel incredibly claustrophobic.
You can’t wrap your head around any of this. Truthfully, you had been perfectly content with your life on Pandora up until a few weeks ago. Jake had satisfied your skin hunger with his caresses and cuddles, Neytiri had always made you feel welcomed around the village by providing you with pretty Omaticaya style clothes and jewelry, and you’ve always been so close to the children that you never craved any of your own. The fact that you had gone so long without any sexual intimacy is surely a testament to how happy you were with the way things were, and yet now you find your head spinning.
Does this mean that you could have had more this whole time? That all those months of craving sexual intimacy, of your growing interest in Na’vi biology, was entirely useless because you had two enormous sexy Na’vi who loved and cared for you very much just sitting right there the whole time thinking that you weren’t interested in sex? What the fuck?
“I can’t do this right now.” You whisper. You’re breathing heavily, as though all of your overthinking is taking an actual physical toll on you. “I have to– I can’t. I have to go.”
Jake’s expression drops entirely, and he pushes himself to stand, already reaching out after you. “Hang on, please. Look, kid, why don’t you just come back home, huh? We can talk things out properly, all three of us–”
You shake your head as you step backwards towards the outpost door. You probably should talk this out, but you just can’t right now. You need to get this mask off, and you need time to think to yourself about all of this and what it means for your relationships going forward.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, Jake.” You whisper.
You don’t let yourself listen to the way he calls your name as you escape into the outpost; you already know that if you see the look on his face, you’ll crumble.
The heavy door swings shut behind you, the hiss of the hydraulics drowning out the last of Jake’s pleas. You’re finally alone for the evening, but for a very long moment you can’t move at all. You just stay leaning against the heavy door as the oxygenation chamber begins to work, finally allowing you to tear your mask off and toss it to the floor.
You take deep, heavy breaths, before hiding your head in your hands. You can’t help but feel as though you’ve handled that rather poorly.
For the next several days, you don’t leave the outpost once. Ostensibly, you’re helping Norm with his research. In reality, you’re likely just getting underfoot and annoying all the other scientists that are actually trying to do work.
It’s cowardly and immature, but you just don’t think you can face Jake or Neytiri right now. You can’t stop thinking of the looks and whispers that the two of them had exchanged when you had talked about possibly being interested in Na’vi men and mating. You’re so damn embarrassed, and you feel like a total idiot.
And yet at the same time, you feel so prickly and irritated. After so many years of friendship, how ridiculous is it that they didn’t speak to you about this? Your irritation bleeds over into your mood as you sit around the base, and soon enough everyone else in the outpost starts to avoid you as best they can.
Three days may not seem like an extraordinarily long time to avoid your friends, but it’s the longest you’ve gone without seeing them in… well, possibly ever.
Jake knows you well enough to know that you need space to think things over, which probably accounts for the fact that he hasn’t yet shown up to bust your door down. But while Jake may be giving you space, no one seems to have given that memo to Lo’ak.
“Whatever dad did, I’m sure he’s sorry.” Lo’ak blurts on the afternoon of your third day of self-imposed exile.
The two of you are sprawled out on one of the couches in the meagre corner that Max has attempted to turn into a recreation area – the couch Lo’ak is laying across was originally designed for Avatar bodies, and he spends enough time in the outpost that he looks perfectly at home here with a CO2 respirator hanging around his neck for him to sip at the air.
You sigh, avoiding his eyes. You know you’re not meant to have favourites among the children, but you’ve always had a mushy little soft spot for Lo’ak. He’s always so hungry for recognition and validation, and yet he can be so damn sweet. It’s no surprise that he’s the one that’s skipping his duties in the clan just to hang out with you at the outpost because he’s worried about you.
“Your dad didn’t do anything, Lo’ak.” You murmur, though you’re still having a hard time looking at him.
Lo’ak’s brow puckers. “... Mom, then?”
“No!” You say quickly, before taking a deep breath and continuing in a calmer tone of voice. “No, it’s not– look, it’s just… sometimes, grown-ups just need some time apart to think, that’s all.”
Lo’ak is quiet for a moment. He’s staring down into his lap, his brow drawn together moodily as he fidgets with his thumbs. He’s obviously thinking hard, lost in his thoughts, though you couldn’t begin to guess what it is he’s thinking about.
Lo’ak is more like his mother than anyone gives him credit for; just like Neytiri, he does a poor job keeping his thoughts and feelings to himself for too long.
“Spider said that Norm told him about a human thing called divorce.” He bursts out, finally raising his head to look at you. For the first time, you see the glimmer of panic in his eyes. “Are you– you’re not doing that, right?”
You rear back, struggling to hide your shock from him. Oh god, now the guilt is starting to set in. In all your panic and embarrassment, you hadn’t really considered what the kids must have thought about all this.
Lo’ak’s ears are pressed flat against the side of his head and his tail is coiled tightly against his body, giving you an insight into how vulnerable he’s feeling right now.
“Oh, no, kiddo!” You blurt, sitting up on the couch and leaning over to place a hand on your shoulder. “It’s not… It’s not like that.”
Lo’ak’s eyes are suspiciously glassy, and he immediately shuffles over to hide his face in your shoulder. The hug is a little awkward; he’s not nearly as small as he used to be as a small child, but he’s still trying his best to curl his much larger body into your chest. It’s like cuddling a golden retriever that doesn’t realise how large it is.
“Mom and dad have been arguing since you left.” He mumbles into your shoulder. “Whatever they did to make you mad, they’re sorry about it.”
Your heart aches, and you close your eyes and sigh as you kiss his forehead. Damn, now you really feel like an asshole. You never expected this to impact Jake and Neytiri’s relationship at home, and to hear that they’re actually in conflict comes as a surprise to you. They’re usually a united front, so to hear that there’s cracks in that front because of you is somewhat jarring.
“... What are they arguing about?” You murmur, feeling a little guilty for prying.
Lo’ak shrugs, as though the way his parents think is utterly mystifying to his brain. “Mom thinks dad fucked up somehow, I dunno.”
He darts a quick look up at your face as though trying to check whether he’s going to get scolded for cursing, but you hardly notice. You’re too busy thinking. You can’t help but wonder exactly how Jake had recounted your little conversation to Neytiri, and you feel your cheeks burn at the thought of what she must have had to say about it. They probably both think you’re a total moron.
You sigh through your nose and pet Lo’ak’s braids absently. He seems happy to burrow close as you think, relaxing into your arms as though he’s not comically large for a fourteen year old.
Truthfully, you wonder if you’re overthinking this. Because if you’re being honest with yourself, the thought that Jake and Neytiri think of you romantically sends a thrill of excitement so pure running through you that it feels as though it’s going to knock you off your feet.
You’ve spent so long moping about being alone that you didn’t even realise that you have two big sexy Na’vi sitting there interested in you but thinking that you weren’t interested in sex? Fuck, how could you have misassessed the situation like that?
“Hey, um’ma?” Lo’ak mumbles, his voice all muffled by your shirt.
“Yeah?”
There’s a pause. Then Lo’ak says, “Ola’netu’s a loser.”
“Lo’ak!” You scold, swatting at his head.
“It’s true!” Lo’ak complains. Your light smack to his head is so inconsequential that he doesn’t even bother moving his head out of the way, choosing instead to shuffle even closer until he’s practically crushing you.
“It’s rude to call people losers.” You sigh.
Lo’ak just grumbles. “Not when they’re trying to steal one of your moms.”
“That’s not–” You start, before falling silent. Na’vi mating practices and culture still throws you for a loop sometimes, but to hear Lo’ak say that he considers you a mom leaves you feeling all warm and fuzzy inside. You had known he viewed you as some kind of role model figure based on how he used to follow along behind your ankles as a young child, but to hear him come out and say it is something entirely different.
“Aw.” You whisper, unable to help it as you wrap your arms around his shoulders and hug him tight. “You’re so sweet, aren’tcha?”
Despite the fact that Lo’ak was literally just burrowing his way into your side, he starts rolling his eyes and leaning away. “Um’ma, quit it!”
You’re still laughing when you hear the sound of a door opening somewhere behind you, and you don’t even bother looking around. It’s Lo’ak who looks over your shoulder instead, and his face goes slack in surprise as his mouth drops open.
“Mom!” Lo’ak says, pushing himself up onto his knees on the couch so he can stare wide-eyed behind you.
You whip around at that, and feel your heart actually skip a beat at the sight of Neytiri picking her way through the narrow walkway of the outpost. You’re certain that your own expression matches Lo’ak’s surprised bewilderment perfectly.
Neytiri has never visited the human outpost before; she mostly tolerates the presence of the humans living beyond the boundary of the Omaticaya village, and is understandably wary of most of them. The sight of her walking towards you as she fiddles with the respirator around her neck is surreal.
Your stomach trembles at the sight of her. You’re not sure you’re ready to have this conversation with her, but you already know there’s no escape. If there’s anyone that can match Jake in pure hard-headed stubbornness, it’s Neytiri.
“Lo’ak,” Neytiri murmurs as she approaches. “Go home. Your father wants you to go foraging with Kiri.”
Lo’ak groans loudly, and Neytiri shoots him a look so sharp that it practically cuts. He gets the message almost immediately, and obviously decides it’s in his best interest not to argue any further. He stands up off the couch and skulks off, though he glances over his shoulder at you before he rounds the corner.
“See you at dinner, um’ma?” He calls, his eyes gone soft and hopeful.
You hesitate, glancing nervously at Neytiri. “Uh… I’m not sure.” You say non-committedly, smiling weakly.
Lo’ak frowns, stopping dead-still as his ears pin back. “Um’ma, please.”
Ah fuck, you never could deny that kid anything. You sigh, reaching up to rub at the space between your eyes. “Right. Yeah, okay. See you later, Lo’ak.”
As soon as Lo’ak disappears around the corner, Neytiri steps towards you. Flustered, you stand up to meet her as she stops just short of the couch. She’s watching you closely, her honey-coloured eyes tracking over every inch of you.
You’re so thrown by the fact that she’s actually here, in front of you, in the human outpost, that you barely even know what to say to her.
“Um… hey.” You say stupidly.
Thankfully, Neytiri decides to ignore your weak little greeting.
“I wish to talk, tawtute.” Her voice is soft, as though she’s trying not to scare you away.
Right. Of course she does. Your eyes dart around the little rec area, all shifty. Towards the back of the open space of the outpost, you can see some of the scientists sending you curious looks. You can’t really blame them; while the Sully kids are regular visitors around here, the sight of Neytiri must be rather startling.
“We can talk in my room.” You mutter, stepping back and hurriedly leading the way towards privacy.
Neytiri follows along silently, though her attention is mostly taken up with looking around the building curiously. You usher her into your room quickly, your heart rate already picking up nervously.
It’s more than a little unnerving to watch Neytiri’s tall, willowy figure stepping into your cramped, windowless room. She looks so out of place amongst the clutter of your stuff, and yet she steps forward and sinks down to perch herself on the edge of your bed as though she belongs there.
You barely manage to stifle a squeak at the sight of her sitting right where Jake had sat only a few nights earlier, right before he had fingered you within an inch of your life. She’s watching you as though she knows what you’re thinking, and you feel your face grow warm under her regard.
“Jake said that you needed space,” She murmurs, breaking the expectant silence that had settled over the two of you. “And I trust him with many things. But he has already made a mess of this, hasn’t he?”
You swallow thickly, fidgeting with your fingers. You can’t help but feel guilty; it was you that had made a mess of this by hiding yourself away like this and refusing to face them after your obvious misunderstanding.
“I’m sorry.” You say stiffly. “I didn’t mean to… well. I just needed time to think.”
Neytiri hums, though she doesn’t appear too convinced. “Jake tells me that you did not realise how we valued you as a mate.”
She says it as though she thinks it’s ridiculous, which certainly doesn’t help things. She leans forward, resting her elbows on her knees as she watches you. Her delicate little chest covering sways forward, and it takes everything in you not to stare at her tits.
“Why would you wish to mate with someone you cannot connect with?” You ask, your voice quiet.
It’s probably not fair to throw Neytiri’s own words back at her from the conversation you had had about Ola’netu on the first night of mating season, but you get a twisted sense of satisfaction from the way her expression cracks into surprise. She looks taken aback, her ears flattening.
“That was not what I meant.” She protests, her brow creasing into a frown.
“You were asking me to find “release” with the other humans!” You burst out. It might not be fair to get frustrated at her like this, but all of these thoughts have been brewing since your little argument with Jake and you finally get the chance to express them.
Neytiri’s tail lashes, revealing her own restlessness.
“You never approached us for…” She trails off, then takes a breath. “I assumed that you were seeking pleasure from your kind. It is like I said; sex is a way for bonding in mated pairs as well as outside of them.”
You blink at her, bewildered. You had thought that she was just making a sweeping statement about Na’vi sexuality. It hadn’t occurred to you that she had been telling you this because she was including you in the mated subsection of the population.
“Jake thought that you were not interested in sexual intimacy at all, because you never mentioned anything to him.” Neytiri says. “But I had thought that you just preferred intimacy with your own kind. And that would be fine, tawtute. There is much diversity among Na’vi mating bonds, and there is almost no mating bonds between Na’vi and Sky People. We are learning as we go.”
She’s doing the same thing that Jake had done; keeping her voice carefully low as though trying not to upset you. You’re a little torn; you can’t decide whether it’s sweet or aggravating that they treat you like you’re something delicate that needs to be protected. You decide to settle on aggravated, even as she keeps talking.
“There are other forms of intimacy; sitting in laps, grooming, cooking for each other, sleeping in shared spaces, spending quality time together. We do all of this, syulang.”
“If you aren’t interested in having sex with me, just say that.” You say, crossing your arms defensively over your chest. You know that you sound like a little brat right now, but you can’t help it. “You don’t have to come up with all these different excuses.”
Neytiri’s eyes widen, her hairless brows raising.
“We did not think we were–” Neytiri struggles for a moment to find the right word. “Compatible. Sexually. We are too big, tawtute, we could have hurt you.”
“But you never even tried.” You say stubbornly, a frown creeping onto your face. “Jake wasn’t too big when he fingered me the other night.”
You might be stretching the truth a little there, because Jake has fat-ass fingers that had stretched you until you had been an actual sobbing mess, but you’re trying to make a point here.
Neytiri reaches up and presses her fingers against her mouth, and it takes you a moment to realise that she’s trying hard not to laugh.
“If you wanted to be touched, all you had to do was ask.” She murmurs, before reaching her other hand out towards you.
You hesitate for a moment. You’re not sure if you’re ready to let go of your annoyance so easily, but you step towards Neytiri all the same. Her tail is twitching, a clear sign of her anticipation. As soon as you get within arm’s reach, she takes you by the arms and pulls you right up into her lap.
You squeak, flustered at the sudden movement. It’s not like it’s strange for you to be hauled into a Na’vi’s lap, but it’s never been Neytiri’s lap before. You grab onto her shoulders without thinking to try and steady yourself, and out of the corner of your eye you see a pleased smile playing about her lips.
“What did you think of Jake?” She asks, her voice low. Her long, slender hands wrap around your hips to keep you in place across her thighs.
“Um…” Your brain has stalled a bit, completely distracted by the way your own thighs are spread wide so that you’re straddling her hips.
Neytiri’s tiny little smile is knowing, as if she knows that your cunt is growing wet and hot just from the feeling of your thighs being stretched wide over hers. Even more distracting is the way her long fingers are tracing over the exposed skin of your thighs where your dress has ridden up over your hips.
“You wanted to experience Na’vi bodies, hm?” She murmurs, her fingers pushing higher as she traces little circles over your hips. “What did you think of Jake’s?”
“It was– he was… great.” You sound like an absolute idiot, and you feel like one as well. It’s like your brain is actually grinding to a halt, as though every ounce of your awareness is narrowing down to the points of contact between you and Neytiri.
Neytiri hums, her eyes dropping down over your own body and lingering. She’s clearly curious about your cotton dress – you almost exclusively wear your Omaticayan style beaded top and loincloth when you’re in the village, and Neytiri hasn’t actually seen you wearing your own human clothes in years. She tugs at the back of it with a tiny frown.
“Good.” She murmurs, her fingers tangling in the soft fabric of your dress. “But just as you were unfamiliar with Na’vi bodies, I have never experienced the body of a Sky Person.”
You take a sharp breath. You’ve clearly been painfully oblivious of any signals that Jake and Neytiri may have been sending you over the years, and you’re not prepared to miss out on anything else just because you’re not willing to take a risk.
“D’you want to?” You ask in a whisper. It comes out more breathless that you had intended, your excitement causing your lungs to squeeze tight.
Neytiri’s smile widens, the delicate skin around her eyes creasing right before she leans in and presses a full-mouthed kiss to your mouth.
It’s messier and more heated than you had expected from her, and you moan without meaning to when her sharp canines tug at your lower lip. Neytiri kisses like she's got something to prove — her mouth is firm and unyielding against yours, and her teeth nip lightly at your lips in a way that sends a shiver rippling down your spine.
As you gasp into her mouth, her hands grip at your waist and haul you closer to her until your chests are pressed tight together, your thighs spread wide around her hips as she pulls you tight to her.
You whimper against her, unable to help yourself, and then to your immense disappointment she pulls back. Her mouth is wet and swollen, but she looks so pretty when she grins at you. When she tugs at your dress again, you pick up on her unspoken request and immediately begin tugging your dress over your head.
You’re left in just your bra and panties, but you’re not given a moment to feel self-conscious. Neytiri’s big golden eyes are taking you in hungrily, but despite that hunger there’s also a gleam of curiosity in her eyes. When you unclasp your bra and let it fall to the side, her eyes land on your breasts as though you’ve just unwrapped a gift for her.
She reaches for your tits immediately, and her big hands practically swallow them whole. You’re reminded of the way she had brushed her hands against your tits when she had fixed your top in a way that was almost casual, but in hindsight was unmistakably erotic.
“Ah,” Neytiri murmurs, sounding almost surprised as her hands close around your tits. “They are softer than I expected.”
“Are they?” You breathe a little dazedly.
She hums, and you bite back another squeak when she reaches up and pulls off her pretty chest covering. You’ve seen Neytiri’s breasts before, of course; the Na’vi are not modest about their bodies, and those beaded tops the women wear are mostly just for accessory.
But seeing is different to touching, and your breath catches when she takes your wrist and guides your hand to one of her tits.
Neytiri’s breasts are small, in proportion to the rest of her tall svelte body, but they’re firmer than you had expected. It shouldn’t be too much of a surprise, you suppose – the muscle structure of the Na’vi is insane, and there’s almost zero softness to them. Neytiri’s breasts are probably the most pliable part of her whole body, but even still the flesh doesn’t yield as much as you might have expected. You can certainly understand why Neytiri is so fascinated by the cushiony softness of your own chest.
Neytiri lets out a small, pleased sound when your thumb rolls over her nipple, and she lifts her CO2 respirator to take a quick sip of air before dropping it and clasping your jaw with one hand. She pulls you into another kiss, and you sigh happily as her tongue slides against yours. The size difference means that the kiss is a little awkward, but her enthusiasm makes up for that.
It feels like the world is spinning, and you let out a soft noise of surprise when her teeth sink into your lower lip. It’s not hard enough to hurt, but the sensation has you shivering in her lap. You almost whine when she breaks away from you, but she just starts to trail kisses down your neck and across your chest.
“Oh, fuck.” You breathe, your whole body jolting when she bites at the curve of your breast. It stings, and you look down at yourself to find a reddened bite mark at the top of your tit, right where it starts to swell.
“So soft and pretty, syulang.” Neytiri mumbles, sucking a bruise on the top of your other tit.
She’s the oddest mix of rough and gentle with you; she’s obviously very conscious of how much bigger and stronger she is, because she’s holding you like you’re made of glass. But even as she strokes her thumbs over your hipbones, her hot, hungry mouth nips and kisses at your sensitive skin and leaves purpling bruises behind.
When her mouth actually closes around your nipple, you let out an absolutely mortifying sound of confusion mixed with arousal. She can fit so much of your breast in her mouth that when she actually suckles on it, your eyes practically roll back at the stimulation.
“God,” You whimper, your hips twitching against her lap. The lace of your panties drags over the soft buttery fabric of her loincloth, and the friction against your clit leaves you shivery. “Neytiri, will you please– can you–?”
Neytiri hums, reluctantly releasing your tit from the wet heat of her mouth. You shiver as the cool air of the room hits the spit-slick skin of your breasts, but Neytiri quickly places her hand over the spot she had been sucking, warming your skin as she squeezes lightly.
“So eager, tawtute.” She coos, smiling at you like she thinks that you’re just adorable. She reaches her much larger hand into your panties, her long slender fingers sliding through the slick folds of your pussy with ease.
You groan like you’ve just been punched, and drop your head down against her shoulder. Her thumb rolls over your clit and your hips jump, grinding in her lap. She chuckles at your reaction, and watches your face closely as she presses one of her fingers inside of you. While a single one of her fingers is much larger than yours, it’s still smaller than Jake’s and you find yourself wanting more.
“Another one.” You beg, already humping your hips into her hand.
Neytiri laughs softly, but does as you ask all the same. The second finger is a definite stretch, but you’re so aroused already that it only stings for a moment before your body adjusts, squeezing tight around her.
“Pretty, pretty girl.” She whispers, ducking her face back down to your chest even as she fingers you.
Oh god, she’s bitey. The wet heat of her mouth leaves trails of stinging bruises across your tender chest and shoulders, which she then soothes over with her large, catlike tongue. There’s going to be no covering the marks she’s leaving behind, but you can’t bring yourself to care.
You’d likely let her do anything to you right now; you feel overheated and shivery, and you can’t stop your chest from heaving as you rut your hips into her fingers, moaning as the heel of her hand grinds into your clit. Her hand is much too big to fit properly in your panties, but you’re far past the point of caring if she stretches the fabric out.
The only thing that could actually bring you out of the sweaty, horny haze you’ve found yourself in is the sound of your bedroom door opening, and you freeze in Neytiri’s lap with your breathing embarrassingly loud in the silence.
For a wildly horrifying moment, you think that Lo’ak had returned for something, and you think about just dropping dead on the spot.
But then you look reluctantly over your shoulder, and you see Jake’s big body standing hunched in your doorway, and you want to drop dead for an entirely different reason.
Jake is looking between you and Neytiri with wide golden eyes, his eyebrows raised so high that his whole forehead is creased. His stare lingers on your bare chest, then on Neytiri’s, and then drops down to where Neytiri’s hand is stuffed down the front of your panties.
“Oh shit.” Jake breathes once he manages to get over his surprise. His expression brightens and he hastily shuts the door behind himself, shuffling quickly over to your bed to join you and Neytiri.
The little room you had claimed as a bedroom is far from large, but it feels even smaller now that you have both Jake and Neytiri’s nine-feet-tall big ass bodies joining you on your miserable, rickety little bed.
“I guess that your little chat went well, huh?” Jake murmurs, a shit-eating grin on his face as he settles next to Neytiri, leaning in close so that his hungry eyes can rove over your almost naked body.
Neytiri hums, though she hardly even looks up at her husband. She’s too busy nuzzling little kisses into your throat, pulling helpless little gasps out of your mouth every time her lips close over your sensitive skin. Her hand doesn’t stop moving either, and you feel like you’re going weak in her lap every time the thick pad of her thumb rolls over the little bead of your clit.
“You handled things badly, ma Jake. I told you I would sort it.” She says, and you can feel her lips curving into a smile against your throat.
Jake just snickers, and you can feel the warm weight of his palm land on your back. He strokes over the bare length of your spine, and then you feel his fingers tug playfully at the back of your panties. He purposefully tugs the lace fabric so that it’s wedged uncomfortably between your asscheeks, and you let out a soft yowl of complaint before half-turning and slapping at his hands.
“Ah fuck, you’re wearing your sexy panties, huh?” Jake’s laugh is a little hoarse as he tugs at your underwear.
Neytiri hisses at him in aggravation when his messing about leads to her hand being forced out of your panties, but Jake just grins. The two of them are so fucking big, they’re practically looming over you right now. Even perched in Neytiri’s lap, you feel tiny in between them.
“The fabric means something?” Neytiri asks, her attention now caught on your red lacy panties.
“Oh yeah.” Jake mutters, his chest pressing up against your bare back, which consequently pushes your breasts against Neytiri’s. “Why don’t you tell her what your panties mean, honey?”
“Jake.” You complain, though it comes out more whiny than you had intended.
He just ignores you, his chest rumbling quietly in amusement against your back as he leans down to murmur in your ear. “Means she was hoping someone’d take her clothes off to get a peek at her, isn’t that right?”
You don’t get the chance to respond, because Jake wraps an arm around your middle and plucks you right out of Neytiri’s lap. You end up sprawled in his lap with your thighs spread wide over his, your back plastered against his chest. One of his hands rests against your belly to keep you pinned against him, keeping you firmly in place against him.
You half expect Neytiri to be irritated over being interrupted, but if anything she’s brightened even further. There’s a gleam in her eyes as she pushes herself off the bed, landing on her knees in between Jake’s spread thighs.
You feel ridiculously exposed like this; it’s almost as if Jake has maneuvered you into this position with the express purpose of showing your body off. Your thighs bracket his, and when he spreads his legs yours are forced wider too, giving Neytiri an eyeful of your scarlet red panties and the absolutely humiliating wet spot that’s currently soaking through the crotch.
Your back is arched too thanks to the way that he’s holding you tight against him, which forces your tits out and gives him a good eyeful of the nips and bruises that Neytiri’s greedy mouth had left behind.
“Damn, you did a number on her, didn’t’ya?” Jake’s big fingers trace over the tender marks across your breasts, and you swear it feels like the contact sends a little zap of electricity racing through you.
Neytiri just giggles, her cheeks dimpling as she smiles up at you and Jake from between your spread thighs. The close proximity of her face to your pussy almost takes your breath away, and your breath catches in your chest when she rubs her big thumb over the wet patch on the fabric of your panties.
Some part of you wonders if you should try to slow things down, to talk things out, but then Neytiri hooks her long fingers in the band of your panties and tugs them clumsily down your thighs and all sensible thought completely abandons you.
You let out a soft, wanting sound when Jake’s fingers run through the slickness of your pussy, spreading you wide so that Neytiri can get a proper look at you. She even leans closer, and the heat of her breath against your oversensitive, damp skin has you twitching.
“What do you think, baby?” Jake asks Neytiri, leaning over your head and looking down at her with a grin. His fingers roll a teasing circle over your clit, and you groan as your head falls backwards to rest against his chest.
“She is so small.” Neytiri coos, her own big fingers joining Jake’s in stroking over you.
All you can do is lay there in Jake’s lap, with your eyes wide and your chest heaving as their big fingers press into you, stretch you wide, and rub at your clit. It’s like they’re trying to outdo each other, trying to unravel you with their fingers alone. Their hands are so big that the combination of their touches feels overwhelming, as though the heat of their fingers is stealing the breath right out of your lungs.
God, you love how they make you feel so small and delicate. Getting manhandled and pinned down during sex is exciting normally anyway, but with two Na’vi twice your size that excitement turns into an outright thrill.
Neytiri kisses the inside of your thigh. It’s such a sweet little motion, her plush lips dragging gently over the thin sensitive skin of your inner thighs. It’s not much of a surprise when her lips add a little suction, a little nip of her canines, just so she can suck another little lovebite at the juncture of your hips and thighs.
“So pretty, syulang.” She whispers, but her voice is muffled as she trails kisses tantalisingly close to where you want her mouth.
“Neytiri,” You whimper. You try to squirm, but Jake keeps you still. “Please-!”
Jake chuckles, his chest rumbling pleasantly against your back. “C’mon, Neytiri, baby, help me get her ready.”
“She’s so wet already.” Neytiri murmurs, her cheeks dimpling so prettily as she leans in and finally lays her mouth on you.
The wet heat of her mouth has your head tilting back onto Jake’s shoulder with a moan, earning a quiet laugh from Jake as he presses a kiss to your shoulder. His big hands keep your thighs spread, and you end up with your legs spread wide and thrown over Neytiri’s shoulders as she latches onto your clit and sucks.
“Fuck!” You yell, your hips jerking. But Jake keeps your hips pinned down so that your ass is pressing against the hardened bulge in his loincloth, his arms wrapped around your belly as he watches Neytiri eat you out from over your shoulder.
“She tastes good, doesn’t she, baby?” Jake croons to her, snickering when Neytiri moans out a garbled response, all muffled into your cunt.
Even from the corner of your eye, you can see the excited smile that’s tugging at Jake’s lips as he hooks his chin over your shoulder to get a better look at Neytiri hungrily licking you out. Judging by the stiffening of his cock pressed against your ass, he is more than enjoying the view.
Na’vi tongues are so oddly textured, like a cat-tongue almost, and Neytiri’s licks against you are rougher than they would be with a human partner. It also means that when her wide, rough tongue rasps over your clit, sparks practically burst behind your eyes as you cry out.
“That’s it, honey. Just relax.” Jake whispers to you, his wide palm cupping your tits and squeezing a little.
Neytiri’s tongue slides down the lips of your pussy until she reaches your slit, and then her tongue is wiggling inside of you and you’re turning your head to the side and whining into the pretty blue skin of Jake’s neck. He just hums, obviously enjoying the sight of his wife tongue-fucking you as you’re held spread open in his lap.
Jake’s cock is pressing into the dip at the small of your back, scalding hot and hard as a goddamn rock, and you alternate between rocking against the length of his hard dick and back into Neytiri’s greedy mouth. She mouths along your pussy, her teeth grazing and scratching at the sensitive skin just right.
You let out an overwhelmed sort of sob, the air catching in your chest as you heave for breath, and you can feel Neytiri smile against the soft flesh of your pussy. Neytiri’s tongue traces your folds, pulling them into his mouth and suckling. You arch your back and moan into Jake’s neck, though your own little sounds of pleasure are mostly drowned out by the soft, breathy moans she keeps making into your pussy everytime she licks into you.
The two of them are caging you in with their big bodies, holding you so gently even as they push you close to the edge. The sweet, hot tension in your lower belly coils tighter and tighter until you’re a trembling wreck, ready to shatter apart.
“Oh… oh god.” You whimper, squeezing your eyes shut tight as your head rests back against Jake’s chest. He just chuckles, and smooths some of your sweaty hair back off your forehead.
“Gonna come, honey?” He whispers, his voice all coy and teasing in your ear. “Oh shit, you crying?”
You are tearing up, just a little bit, from all the sheer stimulation of Neytiri’s mouth on your pussy and Jake’s enormous hands groping at your tits. You still manage to smack Jake’s bicep for that comment though, a weak little slap to his hard muscle.
“Shit, I’m… I’m gonna–” You start to say, your eyelids fluttering shut in anticipation as that beautiful, toe-curling tension starts to coil sweetly in your lower belly.
But right as you’re about to tip over that precipice into bliss, Neytiri pulls away and you nearly start crying for real.
“No! Wait, don’t stop–” You whine, your hips humping into the air in an attempt to follow after Neytiri’s mouth.
“Shhh, mawey, syulang. Calm.” Neytiri purrs, another little kiss placed on your soft inner thigh. “So perfect, yawntu.”
The pupils of her eyes are wider than you’ve ever seen them, and she keeps leaning her cheek against the plush flesh of your thigh. She looks drunk almost, even as she keeps kissing all along your thighs and up over your tummy, before returning to your cunt just to give you slow, kittenish licks right over the bead of your clit.
Your entire body jerks with every kiss. Her tongue is hot and wet as she licks at you, and it feels like liquid fire erupts through your nerves. Your hips twitch and chase after her touch, but Jake keeps you in place with his firm grasp on your thighs.
You’re desperate, frantic for any kind of release. This feels as though it’s been building for years, as though your body has just been waiting for them to touch you like this. God, it feels good. They’re so much bigger than you that any wrong move could end up with them actually crushing you between them, and yet they’re so sweet and careful. You feel as safe with them as ever.
As if he senses your impatience, Jake kisses the spot just under your ear. “You want more, sweetheart?”
“Yes!” You hiss, already squirming in his lap. Your ass rubs against his dick and he groans, his arms tightening around your waist to pull you back onto him so that he can grind against you.
“What d’you think, huh?” Jake’s voice is rough and gravelly as he speaks to Neytiri, his arousal obvious. “Is our little lady ready for it?”
“She is so small, ma Jake. It will be a tight fit.” Neytiri murmurs, her voice all muffled as her fingers dip back inside you. You roll your hips against her fingers, whimpering a little at the mouth-watering stretch as she pushes a third long finger inside.
“She’ll take it,” Jake murmurs, his flat nose pressing into your temple. “Won’t you, beautiful?”
One Na’vi finger is probably the equivalent of two of yours, so the stretch is enough to send your head spinning. You barely even comprehend what he’s saying to you, but you nod blindly anyway, gasping wetly as Neytiri fingers you.
“Uh huh, yeah, please.” You say stupidly, wiggling on his lap.
Jake lifts you a little higher, holding you close to his chest as Neytiri pulls his loincloth off. And fuck, you had almost forgotten how big his dick was. He’s so hard, the delicate little glowing white freckles along the length of it twinkling like little stars, just like the ones splashed across Neytiri’s tits.
“Hush, honey, we’re gonna look after you.” Jake soothes you, kissing your temple. “Gonna be so good to you. Fuck, been waiting so long for this.”
Jake grunts a quiet moan when Neytiri’s hand closes around his cock, and he muffles his appreciative noises in the curve of your shoulder. Neytiri presses a playful kiss to the tip of his dick, earning another groan from Jake, before she looks up at you again.
“You are okay, syulang?” She whispers, setting one heavy hand on your waist and stroking her long thumb over your stomach.
You’ve never been so eager for anything in your life. It’s like your body remembers the feeling of Jake’s fingers and the weight of his cock on your tongue, because it feels like every nerve is aflame as you wait for him to press into you and stretch you wide. You’ve been thinking about this since that night, lying alone in your quarters and stuffing yourself full with your fingers trying to imagine it was his dick. No matter what though, it never feels like enough.
You nod, and lean forward in Jake’s lap to try and kiss Neytiri again. You’re a little shy about it, still a little thrilled that you’re allowed to do this, and she ends up sitting up on her knees and placing her hand on the back of your head to pull you into a sweet, lingering kiss.
As she kisses you, the thick head of Jake’s dick drags through your folds and you shiver in anticipation. Even just the tip of it feels big when he’s grinding it against your clit, and you wrap your arms around Neytiri’s shoulders for stability as Jake positions himself at your entrance.
“Fuck,” The groan is punched out of you when you feel the insistent pressure of Jake’s cock pressing into you. “Jake… Your dick is too big, it won’t fit–”
“You think I gotta big dick, sweetheart?” Jake laughs, cause he’s an asshole like that. His teeth flash in a grin.
“You’re such a dickhead.” You complain, but you find yourself laughing breathlessly anyway.
His intention was to make you relax a little, and it works. Jake and Neytiri’s big fingers have been stretching you out, and you’re so horny and eager right now that it’s now or never.
Jake just snickers, and reaches over to your bedside locker. He opens it up and reaches inside, and pulls out the tiny plastic bottle of lube you have hidden away in there. You can't even think about how he knows it’s there because Neytiri keeps kissing you stupid, and you don’t have any brain power to spare.
Neytiri trails kisses down your neck and chest, pausing at your breasts again. She takes a hasty, shaky breath from the CO2 respirator around her neck, before dropping it and leaning forward to wrap her lips around your nipple again while massaging your other breast with her free hand. Her gentle but eager touches feel genuinely addictive, like she’s leaving trails of pure heat along your oversensitive skin with every brush of her lips.
Jake’s cock, slick with lube, presses up into your cunt, and you let out a garbled whimper at the feeling of intense dull pressure. “Oh, fuck.”
You jolt when Neytiri lets your tit go with a soft, wet little pop. She coos softly at you, cupping your cheek with her hand and brushing her thumb over your cheekbone. Her eyes are so big and golden and pretty, and she’s looking up at you with an awed sort of smile, as though she can hardly believe she’s seeing you like this right now.
Jake begins to press into you, stretching you wide and slipping inside inch by inch.
You gasp desperately as you’re speared open inexorably slowly, tears pricking your eyes as your mouth drops open. Your hips twitch, unsure whether to press back into him to get him deeper inside of you faster or to jerk away from the intense stretch, but his hands are clamped tight around your hips to restrict your movement.
“Fuck, so tight.” Jake grunts, pausing. “Strangling my cock. Shhh… your pussy was made for this, honey. You’ll stretch.””
The noise you make barely sounds human, an incomprehensible mix between a moan and a squeal as Neytiri steadies you, her big hands settling on your waist. She’s staring between your legs, obviously transfixed by the sight of Jake rocking his cock into you in steady increments. Though you can’t see yourself, you can only imagine that it must be quite the sight.
“Just– put it in all at once!” You burst out, gasping as you squeeze your eyes shut. You feel as though you’re about to get totally overwhelmed, the breath driven right out of you as the shocking girth of him stretches you wide.
“Easy, baby girl.” He rumbles into your ear, breath coming in short puffs. He bites at the junction between your neck and shoulder as he slides another inch deeper inside of you. “You’re doing so good.”
You try to calm yourself, taking your deep breaths, but for a heartbeat or two you can’t breathe at all, hovering on a knife's edge of pain and pleasure as your body could only yield – it doesn’t even feel like there’s room in you even to inhale –
“Be gentle, Jake.” Neytiri murmurs, her thumb landing on your swollen clit and rubbing tight circles against it to soothe you.
“I know, I know, I got her.” Jake grunts.
Each ridge on his cock rubs against your inner walls, the slick, throbbing friction never flagging. His rough hands wander erratically, raking up your rib cage, over one breast and down again, grasping as if a handful of you is not enough as he moves his hips in slow humps to get his cock as deep in you as he can manage.
“Fuck!” You moan throatily, dropping your head to hang low as you rock your hips experimentally back on his dick. “Jake, you gotta… gotta move.”
It doesn’t all fit inside of you, but Jake doesn’t seem to mind – he’s grunting out quiet curses, his voice rough and deep as his cock rocks into the tightness of your cunt. The stretch is achy, but the weight and girth of his cock rubs against every goddamn nerve you have. Even though it feels as though he’s splitting you in two, you still find your hips rocking insistently against him, mewling at the sensation.
“Oh honey, you been practicing?” Jake grunts, his sharp canines dragging along the side of your throat. “Goddamn, look at you. Sucking me right into you, aren’tcha? Look, baby, you seeing this?”
“I see.” Neytiri hums, still playing with your clit. She shoots you another smile, before leaning in and kissing at your tits again. “So soft, syulang. So lovely. Doing so well, yawne.”
“Fuck,” Jake groans as he watches his wife touch your tits and marvel at how soft they are. “That’s hot.”
“Go faster.” You whine, tilting your head back to rest against Jake’s shoulder. “Fuck me properly, I can take it, I promise–”
Jake chokes out a laugh, and pulls your back tight against his stomach as his dick grinds deep inside of you, stealing your breath and promptly shutting you up. The moan that’s torn from you is absolutely filthy, your cunt fluttering around him as you fight to take him in, every nerve firing as Neytiri suckles at your breasts.
“Shhh, just take what I give you, gorgeous. Feels like you’re gonna squeeze my cock off. So fucking tight, mama, goddamn–”
You try to lift yourself up, determined to ride him, to take some kind of control over the pace, but Jake holds your hips tight to keep you exactly where he wants you.
It’s so frustrating, because you’re so desperate for more. You know you can take it, you’ve been fucking your fingers just imagining this for days now, gradually stretching yourself out, and Neytiri has already ensured that you’re good and ready for this. You feel like you’re going to lose your mind if Jake doesn’t just fuck you properly already.
Neytiri’s tongue rolls around your nipple, pulling a soft whine out of your throat, before she releases your titty and kisses her way up your neck, pausing by your ear.
“He can be mean, can’t he, pretty girl?” Neytiri whispers in your ear, her voice all teasing and playful. “You musn’t let him tease you. Take what you want. Do you want me to show you how?”
You nod, your mouth dropped open as you pant, your stomach fluttering in excitement.
Neytiri gives you a sharp, hungry smile, before pushing herself to her feet once more. You crane your head back to watch her, your breathing picking up. You must have missed her taking off her loincloth, but now she’s entirely naked in front of you. Your eyes trace over her small but firm breasts, her toned belly, the impressive musculature of her legs, the pretty curve of her pussy. The beautiful bioluminescent freckles all over her jewel-blue body twinkle in the dim artificial light of your quarters, and your mouth goes dry as you’re seized with the desire to trace them with your tongue.
But she’s already climbing onto your rickety bed, and shoving roughly at Jake’s chest. He lets out a low, wanting sound, and lets her push him flat. Now that he’s laying flat on your bed, Neytiri coaxes you to turn – you have to bite back your laughter as you spin around on Jake’s dick so that you’re facing him, and you can see the way he’s clearly fighting his own snickers too.
But Jake never gets to make a joke about the way you just spun around on his dick like a top, because Neytiri swings her leg over his head and straddles his face as though it’s nothing, her body facing you as she simply sits down.
“Ah,” She moans, her eyelids fluttering as she grinds herself against Jake’s mouth. “He talks so much, doesn’t he, syulang?”
You wheeze a laugh, hardly able to believe this is happening. Jake does talk a lot, but he seems very happy to be forced into silence like this judging by the way his cock is twitching inside you. His groans are muffled but no less pleased, one hand coming up to wrap around Neytiri’s thigh and encourage her to rock into his mouth.
Neytiri lets out a soft pleasured sound, before raising her eyes back to you. Her smile is lazy, her eyes half-closed as she relishes the feeling of Jake’s mouth against her pussy. She reaches out and takes one of your hands, intertwining your fingers before she leans forward and kisses you so sweetly.
“Go ahead and move how you want to, tawtute.” She whispers, her tongue gliding over your lower lip.
You mewl a little, but do as she says. You place a hand firmly on Jake’s belly for balance, before lifting yourself on shaky knees and dropping back down again. You groan at the feeling, and in the same moment Jake’s hips rock up into you and his belly visibly tightens. His obvious pleasure buoys your confidence, and you do it again.
Your thighs burn – Jake’s cock is long, and you have to lift yourself higher than you’re used to in order to ride him properly. But it’s a challenge you’re willing to take because even though the stretch of him burns, it feels delicious. You feel drunk on it, your mouth falling open as tears over overstimulation begin to leak from the corners of your eyes.
Neytiri watches you through her half-lidded golden eyes, a lazy smile pulling at her lips as her tails sways in the air behind her. One of her hands is squeezing absently at her tits, the other holding your hand tight as the two of you rock against Jake.
"Hah," You gasp out as you involuntarily squeeze around the girth of his cock. “Ah… oh god, I’m…”
“How does it feel, syulang?” Neytiri breathes, watching the way your hips undulate over Jake’s stupidly big cock, trying to get it to hit just right.
“Feels– shit, so big, but so good–” You sob, overwhelmed yet so needy. Your legs are tiring already, thighs burning as you grind against him. “Want him to move–”
Neytiri hums, before reaching out and smacking at Jake’s hip. He groans into her cunt, the slick sounds of his mouth against her enough to heat your cheeks up, but he gets the message loud and clear because his hips jolt into action.
Each thrust shakes your bed, the springs of your mattress coming to life as Jake’s hips thrust up, fucking you from below. Your pussy is drenched, aiding the lube he had soaked his cock as he glides in and out of you effortlessly, your body opening up for him as though you had been born for this.
His cock reaches something within you that has a sob ripping from your throat, your head tossing back as you wail towards the ceiling.
"Oh my god," You cry out, his cock spearing into you and hitting that spot with precision over and over again, "Fuuuck."
“Is that how you like it, yawntu?” Neytiri breathes. She’s getting close herself; you can tell by the jagged rhythm of her hips as she humps against Jake’s face, and the wide blackness of her pupils.
“Uh huh, yes!” You whine, your vision blurring. It feels like your body is drawing tense as a bowstring, your toes curling so hard it almost hurts.
You’re not sure if Jake can actually hear you or not, considering Neytiri’s thighs are closed tight around his ears, but the hand that isn’t holding onto her leg travels down to your hip and holds you tight. His thumb strokes over the swell of your ass even as he encourages you to rock against him. All you can do is grind against him every time his hips piston up, the thick swell of his cock settling so deep inside of you it feels like it’s in your stomach.
Your pussy is already fluttering, your belly tightening as your rising orgasm begins to prickle at the edges of your body. Fuck, you already feel as though it’s about to shake you apart at the seams, like you’ll never feel whole again without the delicious stretch of Jake’s cock.
To your surprise, it’s Neytiri that comes first. She cries out, her big hand encompassing yours as her eyes roll, her head dropping forward to nestle into your neck as her body shakes apart.
Beneath her, Jake’s chest rumbles with a low purr of arousal as she comes all over his face – but he’s a man devoted to his mission, because he somehow manages to keep fucking into you all while he licks Neytiri through her own orgasm.
You’re actually quaking at this point, grinding yourself desperately on top of Jake as his hips thrust up into, the friction so damn good even though you can tell that he’s trying so hard to be careful with you. This particular position isn’t super conducive to your own pleasure, but being fucked like this while having such strong visual stimulation is nice – you can hardly tear your eyes away from Neytiri as her body goes lax, her eyelashes fluttering wildly as she humps lazily against Jake’s face to ride the last shivery shocks of her orgasm out.
God, it feels as though you’re never going to get over this. You feel as though your nerves are right on the edge of frying, your lungs and muscles burning and your skin slick with sweat as you rock and writhe wildly, taking a cue from Neytiri and seeking your own satisfaction. You can’t imagine ever feeling better than this; it feels as though you’re blooming under all of the attention that’s being lavished upon you.
Once Neytiri stops shaking, she takes a moment to just gasp for breath even as her hips roll slowly over Jake’s tongue. Slowly, she blinks back to herself, then her eyes fall back upon you. A slow, lazy smile spreads across her face, and then she’s reaching out to you all over again, her fingers landing on your clit to rub over it in a teasing circle.
Her long fingers barely brush the fraught nerves before ecstasy settles between each of your vertebrae. Your pussy flares, gripping onto the throbbing thickness of Jake’s cock. Shaking violently, your thighs squeeze Jake’s slim waist as everything tightens, pulses, spasms.
Overwhelmed, whimpering sort of wails pour from your lips in a deluge, your jaw is slack, the waves of ecstasy rendering you utterly helpless to the instinctual rutting motions of your hips. You're rocking up against him while simultaneously attempting to escape the sensation, choking out gasping moans as you fall apart.
You must tighten up like a vice when you come, because Jake yells out, his hips bucking. His shout is muffled by Neytiri’s pussy as you squeeze down on his dick, trembling.
The way your cunt constricts around him proves too much for Jake’s poor cock. You can feel the hot, thick spurts of cum as as he empties himself inside of you, his soft tummy twitching and trembling as his hips flex. You're exhausted, powerless to do anything other than bathe in the sensation of your cunt convulsing around Jake’s twitching cock as he shakes under you, moaning into Neytiri’s cunt as she grinds lazily on his tongue.
When your thighs finally stop trembling, your over-fatigued body starts to go limp. It feels as though your muscles have been liquefied, and you start to slump over a little. Neytiri seems to take sympathy on Jake, because she finally lifts herself off of Jake’s face in order to cup your face, kissing your cheeks and forehead.
Below you, Jake just groans, pausing to give himself a moment to breathe. He only takes a moment though before he starts slowly rocking his hips again, as though he’s just trying to fuck his cum deeper into you. It was too much, leaking out of your hole and over his cock, soaking into the sheets below.
“Oh my god.” You pant, your lungs overworked as you try to catch your breath. “Oh, holy fuck.”
Jake laughs, wheezy with his own disbelief. However wrecked you feel, Jake looks absolutely destroyed. His chest and stomach are glossy with sweat, his hips drenched in lube and your own release. His dreads are in disarray, his eyes hazy and a little dazed as his chest heaves. His mouth and nose are shiny slick too from both his own saliva and from Neytiri coming all over his face.
Despite his dishevelment, he looks impossibly pleased with himself as he fumbles for his respirator, taking clumsy breaths even as he smiles dopily to himself, his eyes glassy and unfocused.
Neytiri helps lift you off Jake’s dick, which you end up being extremely thankful for when you find that your knees are watery and weak. You try to pretend you don’t notice the sheer amount of come that’s leaking out of you, thick and a little iridescent in the artificial light of your quarters.
You’re so fucked out that you hardly even twitch when Neytiri pulls you back against her chest, settling comfortably back on the mattress beside Jake. You end up squished between them in a pile of sweaty slack limbs. You feel so tiny next to them, especially considering the two of them don’t even fit properly on the bed – their legs are hanging right off the mattress, their feet planted on the ground as they nuzzle against you and each other.
Now that all the adrenaline is wearing off, you can certainly feel the ache left behind from all of your activities, and the sting from the sheer stretch of Jake’s cock.
“Ow.” You mutter absently, though it comes out muffled as your face is currently squished against Neytiri’s firm breasts.
She coos at you, her big hand stroking over the back of your head before she reaches out to smack at Jake’s forehead. “You were too rough with her, skxawng–”
“I was not– ouch, damn!” Jake flinches back, ducking down and using you as a floppy sort of human shield. “Okay, okay. You alright, honey?”
“Mm. Tired.” You mumble. You feel like you’ve just had all the thoughts fucked right out of your head, because you can barely string a sentence together right now.
“I have balms back at home,” Neytiri ensures you, her lips dragging over your temple. “Where you should be.”
You manage a breathless sort of laugh, your toes curling at the sound of that. They’ve always invited you into their home, but you’ve always been a little worried about overstaying your welcome. Now, all wrapped up in their naked embrace in your little blissful post-coital puddle, you find yourself almost deliriously thrilled about going back home with them.
“You hurt?” Jake asks, his voice rasping pleasantly in your ear. It sends a pleasant tingle down your spine, but that disappears almost instantly as his big fingers prod at the oversensitive lips of your pussy.
“Ow! Fuck, Jake, what is wrong with you-” You grouse, slapping his hand away from you. “No, I’m fine, but I’m sensitive down there. I don’t need your fat fucking fingers poking inside of me again.”
“You loved my fat fucking fingers before.” He grumbles, but there’s a teasing edge to his voice as he places a tiny kiss on the back of your neck. “Neytiri’s too, huh?”
Your cheeks heat in embarrassment, but there’s no point denying that. You just grumble incomprehensibly, burrowing deeper into their arms. Jake snickers, shuffling closer so that he’s completely plastered against your back, his big arm wrapped around both you and Neytiri.
Neytiri hums, enjoying Jake’s arm around her as her own hand trails over the valley of your waist and hips. “No need for others, syulang. You have us, yes? We look after you.”
You breathe a weak laugh, but your answer is interrupted by an ominous creaking noise coming from beneath you. There’s a brief pause, and then an almighty crash as your rickety old bed breaks from the weight of the two full grown Na’vi bodies laying atop of it. You squeal, but there’s really no need because Jake and Neytiri hardly flinch at all. They just glance down as though the wreckage of your bedframe is nothing more than a mild inconvenience.
“Oh my god.” You squeak, sitting up to try and see the damage.
“Does not matter.” Neytiri says dismissively. She’s stretching out, her lithe body elongating as she yawns like a big cat. “You will just stay in our bed.”
There’s a pause. You nearly start laughing, though you manage to bite back your reaction. Oh god, you’ve just fucked your best friends. It feels as though Jake has managed to screw your braincells right out of your skull, because all you can do is gape at their big, sexy bodies like an absolute moron. Not only have you just fucked your friends, but they’re also clearly expecting you to come back home with them.
“Lie back down,” Jake murmurs, reaching out to beckon you back to their sides.
“I should shower,” You mumble, but you’re already laying back down. Your hips are sore from being stretched so wide, and you have no confidence that you’re actually able to stand without your knees buckling. “I feel gross.”
“Bathe with us back at the village.” Jake says immediately, his wide nose burying itself into the back of your neck. He breathes deeply, and his chest rumbles in a quiet purr. It sends soothing little reverberations down your spine, encouraging you to relax into his big body.
You have a feeling that he just wants you to walk around the village, stinking of the two of them. You also have a feeling that it’s the same reason behind Neytiri leaving all of those throbbing hickeys behind on your body wherever her mouth could reach, and you can’t fight the tired smile growing on your face. You’re too tired to argue, and just flop bonelessly between the two of them, enjoying your warmth. It’s so familiar, laying in their shared embrace. You’ve been doing this for years, although admittedly it’s usually with the rest of the family and you’re usually clothed, but it’s still comfortably domestic and intimate.
You suppose you’ll doze for a while, napping in wreckage of your shitty old bed in the pleasant afterglow of what was probably the best sex of your life. Jake and Neytiri have burrowed so deep into your life, your mind, your body, that everything feels so bizarrely natural with them.
You won’t sleep long, you think as you cuddle up against Neytiri’s smooth skin, with Jake’s bulk curling around your back. Dinner will be soon, and you’re hungry.
🍓 tags: nsfw, best friend!jake, dilf jake cause i can't help myself, minor jealousy, size kink, alien genitalia, human x na'vi, oral sex (going both ways), fingering
🍓 wordcount: 15k
masterlist
reblogs are always enormously appreciated!
The jungle is in its prime. It’s been raining for days, rejuvenating the lush green after a period of merciless heat. Luscious fruit hangs from the branches, ripe and beaming with colour, and the forest air is full of the sweet smell of fertile, damp soil. Pandora feels alive, even more so than usual, bioluminescence flickering like a pulse along the deep roots and vibrant foliage, as though Eywa is breathing beneath your very feet.
The Na’vi in the Omatikaya village are similarly vibrant. Adorned in colourful beads and feathers and beautifully woven jewelry, their deep blue skin practically glows around the roaring fires that are all lit up around the centre of the village. It’s difficult to tear your eyes away from them as they dance in the firelight, their long limbs lithe and exotically beautiful in the dim flickering light.
You’d be lying if you said you weren’t entranced by them. How could you not be? It’s mating season, and you’re a scientist at heart.
You try to hide your interest the best you can by sneaking quick looks at their dancing from beneath your eyelashes, but you’re sure that it’s obvious to anyone who bothers to look that you’re simply fascinated. Their rituals are entirely foreign to you despite all the years you’ve spent living on Pandora — this is the very first time that you’ve been invited to the village at this time of year. The Na’vi are comfortable in their bodies and their sexualities, but that does not mean that they’re comfortable with having their traditions observed by outsiders, by Sky People like you.
You understand their hesitance, and never seek to insert yourself into the village when you’re not wanted. Your life on Pandora works because you live in tandem with the Omatikaya, never pushing the boundaries too far. Truthfully, you think the only reason that the People have accepted you to the level that they have is because Jake has vouched for you. The weight of Toruk Makto’s regard is enough to lower the hackles of most Omatikaya, and the rest of them simply ignore you when you’re around. It’s only the most curious of them that actually speak to you, and you’ve managed to build up a few tentative but mostly solid friendships within the village that you’re actually quite proud of.
Your attention is pulled away from the fluidity of the bodies dancing around the fire by a cry from behind you, and when you turn to look you only just have enough time to spot a familiar blue face before a small but strong body almost knocks you right off the log you’re seated on.
“Um'ma!” Tuk cries out, burying her face in your shoulder as she hugs you in one quick squeeze before dancing back, her sweet little face all scrunched up in a grin. “You’re here!”
She’s almost the same size as you are but with all the strength and solid bones of the Na’vi, so her hug is more like a full body tackle.
“Hi, Tuk Tuk,” You say, a little winded from the impact of her hitting your chest. “Where’s your dad?”
“He’s coming,” Tuk says dismissively, pulling back to look at you properly. When she gets a proper look at what you’re wearing, her beaming smile grows even larger. “Oh, you look so much nicer than usual!”
You don’t take offense to that; it must be a novelty for her to see you out of your usual denim shorts and worn tank tops and sports bras. The clothes that you’re wearing now are traditional for the Na’vi, sized down specially for you. The tewng is a little more revealing than you’d prefer, sitting high on your hips and revealing a wide expanse of your thighs, and the beaded top covers even less. You’re not even sure if it is a top – you think it acts more as a very large necklace, and it only covers your nipples if you stay very, very still. But Kiri had made an extra effort to weave the garments especially for you, and you wear them with all the pride you can muster while being more exposed than you are generally used to.
“Thanks.” You say, reaching out to run a hand affectionately over her braids.
She’s a sweet kid, and you smile fondly as she sits next to you on the log and begins babbling away about the various courting couples who are expected to mate by the end of the season. You listen intently, especially when she throws in some very juicy gossip about couples who are currently dancing (practically grinding against each other, really) by the fireside while in fact engaged in courting with other people.
You get caught up in her whispering, trying not to stare too long at the people she’s talking about. Your eyes have fallen on Ola’netu, a strong male of the clan who is going through his seventh mating season. According to Tuk, he has turned down every woman in the clan who has expressed interest in him.
It’s not necessarily unusual for a Na’vi to go through several mating seasons without finding a mate – they mate for life, after all, which means it is not a decision that is easily rushed into. What is causing such a stir about Ola’netu’s situation is that he allegedly shows very little interest in the women of the clan; it seems that he is largely preoccupied with watching the human scientists that live in the outpost just outside the village, if Tuk is to be believed.
That’s enough of a surprise that you find your eyes glued to Ola’netu where he stands watching the others dancing. He is tall, like all Na’vi, with broad shoulders and a narrow waist and impressive lithe muscles carved into his abdomen. He is beautiful, even in that classically alien way that you’re beginning to get used to, but that’s not what has caught your attention. No, what’s caught your attention is the knowledge that he might actually be interested in humans.
It’s not unheard of — the Na’vi are comfortable and confident in their sexuality, viewing intimacy and sex as part of life, and humans are curious and reckless by nature. Sexual exploration between the two species is probably inevitable, and you often hear giggled whispers detailing their exploits. You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t been fascinated with the idea ever since you heard the whispers, and now you find your eyes straying towards the subject of little Tuk’s gossiping.
“Mommy is annoyed with him,” Tuk confides, leaning into your side. “She says he is too interested in sky demons-”
A large hand lands on your back, the touch searing against the exposed skin, and then a deep voice speaks from behind you.
“What are you two gossiping about, hm?” Jake leans in from behind you, his big head shoving its way between you and Tuk as he winds an arm around both of your shoulders.
Tuk squeals, clearly taken by surprise at the sudden appearance of her father, and you jolt beside her too. You tear your gaze away from the dancing to find that Jake is already watching you, and you feel your face burn with embarrassment at getting caught staring at the other Na’vi.
“Nothing!” Tuk says quickly, blinking up at her father with all the innocence she can muster.
Jake casts her a quick look, a single eyebrow quirking. His disbelief is unmistakable, but to Tuk’s credit she just smiles sweetly at him.
“What’re you teaching my daughter, huh?” He asks, nudging at you playfully. “You’re gossiping like fishwives over here.”
You roll your eyes at that, relaxing into his side as his arm drapes lazily around your back. “Don’t listen to him, Tuk. Your daddy is the biggest gossip around.”
That makes Jake laugh, head tilting back as his hand curls around your shoulder. He doesn’t even argue, because he can’t – Jake loves being in other people’s business, and has spent many long lazy afternoons huddled up in the human outpost with you when he needs a break from his Olo’eyktan duties, whispering about the other scientists under the guise of checking in on how everyone is doing.
You watch Jake turn to Tuk, your eyes tracing over his blue, alien features. Being Na’vi suits him, more than being human ever had. He’s taken to life with the Omatikaya like a duck to water, and it’s good to see him so strong and happy. However, that doesn’t mean that it’s not lonely for you a lot of the time.
Jake has been your closest friend for many years, but things are different now – he’s older, for a start, and a father and Olo’eytkan for another, and to top it all off he's now an entirely different species. Though you try your best to see him as often as he can, sometimes he’s just busy and doesn’t have the time for you. And though you understand that, you find yourself feeling melancholy about it often.
“Why don’t you go to your mother?” Jake murmurs, pressing gently at Tuk’s back.
“But I want to sit with um'ma for a little while longer.” Tuk protests immediately, her little face scrunching up.
You bite your lip, trying not to laugh. Tuk knows your name, of course, but none of Jake and Neytiri's children ever use it. The kids have always called you um’ma, for as long as you can remember. It’s like an affectionate name for mom, as far as you’re aware. You’ve always sort of assumed that it’s somewhat teasing. You know it’s not entirely unusual for Na’vi children to refer to older female figures in affectionate terms like that – the school children had called Grace sa’nok, a much more formal name.
“Another time.” Jake says, more firmly this time, and Tuk groans loudly in defeat before reluctantly skulking away.
Now that it’s just you and Jake, he straddles the log next to you and spreads his knees out with a sigh. He rolls his broad shoulders, clicking his tongue softly as he shakes out his stiff muscles, before turning to look at you with a little grin.
“Look at you,” He crows quietly, his big golden eyes wandering down the length of your body as he takes in the traditional clothes you’re wearing. You think they look a little ridiculous on you, but Jake looks approving.
You fiddle with the delicately woven top, adjusting it carefully to make sure it’s covering your nipples and sitting very still to ensure that it doesn’t slip. You’ve grown used to seeing the Omatikayan women wear their traditional clothing, but it is very different wearing it yourself, especially when you’re not used to feeling so exposed.
“I think I might look a little silly,” You confess, “But Kiri helped me with the clothes, and she was so excited about it.”
Jake hums, then reaches out to catch your hands and to pull them away from your clothes. “Quit messin’ with it, you look good.”
You grumble, but allow him to tug your hands away. Your cheeks are warm from embarrassment; Jake’s gaze is unexpectedly searing, and keeps dropping down over your chest and legs. It’s not a type of look you’re used to getting from him, and you don’t quite know how to react to it.
“My tits are like, fully out.” You mutter, looking away from his face and squinting back at the dancing figures around the fire. “I know no one cares, but I feel super exposed.”
Jake hums, though he sounds amused rather than sympathetic. He spreads his legs apart even further, ignoring the way you grumble and slap at his knee when he manspreads his way into your space.
“Come here, then,” He wraps a big hand around your elbow and pulls you between his legs. “Now, no one’s looking at you.”
Jake has always been a touchy person, saying more with his calloused hands than he’s able to say with his words, and he’s always been physically affectionate. The fact that he’s so much bigger than you makes his affectionate touches so much more obvious and overwhelming; his hands are so large when he moves you around like you’re a little ragdoll. You end up sitting between his legs, his thick thighs bracketing your hips as you press back into the cradle of his legs. He’s so big where he looms over you from behind that you’re practically swallowed up by his size – the bulk of him effectively blocks the sight of you from any prying eyes.
You breathe a laugh, and relax back into his chest. You do feel a little better now, all nestled into Jake’s stomach as he sits tall over you. You feel safe like this, and you use the opportunity to take another peek at the dancing Omatikaya.
As the evening gets later, the dancing begins to get more and more energetic. The couples go from dancing around each other to dancing on each other in displays of barely contained eroticism. Some couples have graduated into grinding on each other, and you watch with interest from the safety of Jake’s arms – you so rarely get an opportunity to observe the Na’vi like this, so free and unrestrained.
Jake doesn’t seem to notice that your attention has strayed; he’s giving the dancing couples his own curious look. He is obviously curious about his people as Olo’eytkan, but you also know that your friend is nosey and no doubt wants to know exactly who is getting with who. After a couple of moments of watching the dancing, he drops his head to murmur in your ear.
“So, you never told me what you and Tuk were gossiping about.” He says, nosey as ever. “You looked so invested in the conversation, must have been something important.”
You roll your eyes, curling into him further. The touchiness is nothing strange for the two of you; in fact, it’s normal enough that none of the Omatikaya so much as bat an eye at the way you’re practically perched in his lap. You’re pretty sure that they look at you like a puppy or something, some kind of little lapdog that Jake keeps around as a kind of pet.
“Why are you so incapable of minding your damn business?” You grumble, trying to shift around.
Jake’s chin comes to hook over your shoulder, his back curving as he pulls you tight against him. It’s the kind of move that keeps you pinned, and you grumble a little before going still. Living as a human on Pandora could be lonely, and you’ve found yourself growing more and more touch-starved as time goes on. Having Jake all plastered up against your back is pleasant, and you can’t work up the strength to pull away from him.
“C’mon!” He crows in your ear, jostling you. “Tell me!”
“Ugh!” You reach around to shove at his face, but you already know that you’re going to crack under his questioning. “I just– Tuk was just telling me about some of the People, and who they were interested in for mating season.”
“Oh yeah?” Jake asks lazily, leaning his chin on your shoulder as his eyes dart around the large open area that’s been cleared for the festivities. “Anything interesting?”
“Um…” You pick at your fingers, glancing out at the dancing again. “She was telling me that… certain Omatikaya men were interested in humans. Men like Ola’netu.”
You can feel Jake stiffen from behind you, though you can’t actually see his face.
“Ola’netu?” He repeats, and his chin shifts against your shoulder as he turns to look out over the People.
Ola’netu is easy to spot. He lingers by the edge of the crowd, laughing with friends as they tell stories and drink. That in itself is not unusual, but the way that he shakes his head in refusal at every woman who approaches him to dance is unusual for an unmated adult male. Especially an unmated adult male who has already announced his interest in several different mating seasons already; he is dressed to attract attention, with bright beaded jewelry and a finely woven battle band hugging his slender waist. It is strange that he is refusing dances when he has clearly declared himself interested in mating.
You can’t help but wonder if Tuk is correct; if perhaps Ola’netu is not interested in the women who are seeking his attention because he is more interested in human women instead.
“Huh,” Jake says simply. He almost sounds as though he doesn’t care, but you know him too well. You can hear the edge of irritation in his voice. “Why would you be interested in that?”
“Oh, come on.” You grumble. “Why wouldn’t I be interested in that?”
Jake shifts behind you, one of his big hands coasting around your waist to land on your belly. His fingers drum there thoughtfully, the roughness of his calloused skin against your bared stomach making you shiver a little.
“I didn’t… think you were interested in other Na’vi men.” He says very slowly. His chin is still hooked over your shoulder, staring out at the group of hunters that Ola’netu is laughing with.
“I’ve been single for a long-ass time.” You say quietly, shrugging. “And the human guys back at the outpost are great, but there’s definitely nothing attractive about them, y’know? They’re kind of gross, most of the time.”
“Right,” Jake says vaguely, still squinting out at his people. “You sure you’re not just horny? When’s the last time you got some?”
You gasp, indignant, and turn in his hold to slap at his head. You have to reach high considering your height difference, but he doesn’t bother moving; knowing that he’s allowing your weak little slap rankles even more than if he had stopped you.
“Shut up!” You scold, before turning away irritably when he starts to laugh. You fiddle with your fingers as you wait for his snickers to die down, suddenly feeling shy. “I don’t… I mean, what if it’s not just fucking I’m interested in?”
“Oh?” Jake says absently; you can feel that he’s still looking out at the dancing.
“What if it’s mating I’m interested in?”
That finally gets you his full attention. Jake’s head whips away from the fireside to look at you instead. His eyes are so intense that it feels like he’s boring a hole in your head, and you purposefully avoid looking at him the best that you can.
“Mating.” He repeats, sounding distinctly thunderstruck. “Mating?”
“Yes,” You mumble, embarrassed and on edge. “It’s hardly a new concept for you. You have four kids-”
“I know what it is, smartass.” He snaps back immediately. It’s probably pure reflex based on all the bickering you do usually, because he softens immediately after. “But you're…" He trails off, visibly confused. "How do you know he’s looking for the same? Maybe he’s just a pervert. He might just want to fool around with a human, right?”
Your brow twitches, and you turn your face away from him again. Your lips are pursed, eyebrows drawn together in a frown as you peer unseeingly at the large bonfire roaring in the centre of the camp. You obviously know that the Na’vi mate for life – truthfully, you think that’s part of the appeal. The thought that maybe Ola’netu was only interested in fucking a human out of some sort of morbid curiosity hadn’t occurred to you, but now you feel a little silly.
You sigh, fiddling with one of the little beads on your chest accessory. “I dunno. I guess I just want someone to look after me, you know?”
For possibly the first time ever, you’ve managed to render Jake dumbstruck. He goes perfectly still behind you; even his hand is frozen across your belly. For a long moment, he doesn’t make a sound. You know he’s staring at you because you can still feel his eyes boring into you, but he says absolutely nothing. You can practically hear the cogs working in his head.
“I look after you,” He says at last, sounding confused. “Don’t I?”
You groan quietly, reaching up to scrub tiredly at your face. “God, Jake, come on. You know what I mean. Yes, you do, but… I don’t know, I’m lonely. You have your family, but I have to go back to the outpost to live with science guys that forget to shower for days on end. I just… I want more than that.”
“But you're–”
Whatever Jake’s protest was going to be is lost, because the two of you get distracted by the tall figure stepping towards you. It’s Neytiri, and for once she isn’t accompanied by the children. There’s a sway in her hips as she approaches, her attention straying once towards the dancing around the fireside before returning to Jake with a grin.
She murmurs a greeting as she settles down next to Jake on the log, leaning in to accept a kiss when he turns to her. You shift between his legs, a little awkward with the position all of a sudden.
Neytiri doesn’t actually seem to mind your presence, though you think you probably took some getting used to in the beginning. Now, Neytiri seems to have accepted that you just come along with Jake, like a two for one kind of deal. She rarely blinks an eye at your interactions, but you still feel vaguely uncomfortable with being stuck between his legs when she’s sitting right beside you. Jake, naturally, seems entirely oblivious.
Her eyes dart between you and Jake, and her eyebrows raise at whatever she sees on your faces. “What is it?”
“Nothing.” You say quickly, but your attempt at nonchalance is sabotaged when Jake interrupts you by saying, “Tuk told her that Ola’netu is interested in humans, and now she thinks that she might be interested in Na’vi men.”
“I was interested in Na’vi men before that!” You hiss, before your cheeks grow hot and you end up retreating back into Jake’s chest. That’s not necessarily something that you wanted to admit, but now you’ve earned Neytiri’s attention.
She’s frowning, looking a little confused. Just like Jake, she looks out across the fire towards the groups of dancing, laughing Na’vi. Ola’netu is still standing at the side of the congregation, smiling and nodding with his friends. He has no idea that the Olo’eyktan and his mate are whispering about him with the little human tucked between their legs like a family pet, and your ears burn at the realisation that this is actually a rather pathetic position to be in.
“Tawtute cannot make tsaheylu.” Neytiri frowns. “Why would he wish to mate with someone he cannot connect with?”
You cringe. She’s right, of course. Na’vi mating bonds are intimate on a level that a human could never experience, and it’s ridiculous of you to assume that a Na’vi would sacrifice that level of intimacy for a few moments of taboo sexual curiosity with a Sky Person.
Over your head, Jake sends her a look. You can’t see him properly, but you can guess that it’s chiding.
“Humans can form deep emotional and romantic bonds without tsaheylu.” Jake is quick to say, but you know it’s just a platitude.
Now, in the face of both Jake and Neytiri and their doubtful expressions, you feel absolutely ridiculous for your private musings and hope to find a partner for yourself that would care for you and understand you in the same way the Na’vi do for their mates. It’s not that you had been thinking about it super seriously in any capacity, but you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t considered what it would be like to have a partner so much larger than you, one that would treat you as though you were something precious, who would be tender with you.
They’re thoughts that tend to swirl persistently around your head when you listen to some of the more adventurous humans at the outpost giggling about their exploits, or when you’re alone in your bunk late at night surrounded by the snoring of your fellow humans on all sides. It can’t be wrong to want something like that just for yourself, right?
As you had gotten somewhat lost in your thoughts, Jake and Neytiri had exchanged a full, completely silent conversation over your head; it consists entirely of facial expressions and ear twitches, and you pay it no mind at all. They know each other so well at this point that they don’t even need words to communicate, and you doubt you’d be able to follow along with their wordless conversation if you tried.
“He is much larger than you, tawtute.” Neytiri points out with uncharacteristic caution. “He could hurt you.”
“Well, I wouldn’t jump straight into it,” You say hastily, shifting uncomfortably between Jake’s legs. His hand is still spread casually across your stomach, as though he’s forgotten it’s there, and you feel hyper-conscious of his touch now that the conversation has shifted like this. “All the other humans that have experimented sexually with Na’vi have worked their way up to it, y'know–?”
Unsurprisingly, that’s Jake’s cue to leap into the conversation again. “Whoa, wait a second, wait a second, who was experimenting with who—”
“This is what I mean!” You hiss, turning in your place to swat at his arm. “You’re such a whore for gossip, you’re not even listening to me properly-!”
“I am listening,” Jake says hastily, grabbing at your wrist. “But you can’t just drop that without explaining! You never told me about any human/Na’vi experimenting-”
“It wasn’t relevant, jackass!”
Neytiri ignores your bickering with all the ease of someone who is well acquainted with the dynamic of your relationship. She’s still watching the crowd of dancing Na’vi, her expression stern but thoughtful, and you’re reminded of what Tuk had said earlier; “Mommy is annoyed with him. She says he is too interested in sky demons-”.
“Let’s just forget about it!” You burst out, desperate to be done with this conversation. You’re beginning to worry that talking like this is going to change the way they look at you – make them judge you. “Let’s not talk about this anymore.”
Your words fall on deaf ears. Jake is still squinting around the gathering of Omatikaya as though he might be able to guess just by looking at them which ones may have fooled around with humans, and Neytiri has turned around on the log to take another look at you. Her stare is as intense as Jake’s, but for some reason you feel as though she can see more.
“This is your first time witnessing mating season,” Neytiri points out, slowly as though she has to think carefully about each word. “You are dressed as one of us.”
When Neytiri reaches over to you, you have to fight a flinch. She has grown used to you and has accepted your presence around her family, but she doesn't often touch you if she can help it. And yet now she reaches out and adjusts your chest covering with her long fingers. It had been knocked askew when you had turned to slap at Jake, and you practically hold your breath as she sets it right delicately.
“You need a release,” Neytiri murmurs, eyebrows drawing into a frown. “The other tawtute do not help you with this?”
“She’s not just talking about a release,” Jake grumbles. “She’s talking about mating.”
You hiss in aggravation. “Why is that so weird? I’m just sick of being alone!”
“But you’re not alone,” Jake says, leaning over your shoulder and pulling you back against his chest to make eye contact with you. “You have us. Sully's stick together, remember?”
He’s as annoyingly earnest as ever, and is still missing the point. You can’t blame him, not really – Jake’s family is his fortress, as he loves to say, and you doubt he can even remember what it feels like to be really, truly lonely. He’s carved out a place for himself here amongst the clan, and they accept him quicker than they ever would you thanks to his Avatar body.
“Oh, shut up.” You grumble, but you allow yourself to lean on his chest to take the sting out of your tone.
Neytiri shifts beside Jake, her expression still and thoughtful. To your horror, she continues the conversation – and it’s not as though you can tell Neytiri to shut up the same way you can tell Jake to.
“Sex is a means for bonding in mated pairs as well as outside of them,” She says. “It is not unusual for unmated Na’vi to share intimacy in such a way, and to provide each other with release. Are you sure that this is not what you are seeking?”
Oh, how humiliating. You sink a little lower, hoping that you might disappear right into Jake’s chest.
“Yes.” You mumble, “Quite sure.”
In an effort to distract yourself, you avert your eyes from the couple you sit with and look out towards the festivities again. Over your head, Jake and Neytiri murmur to each other, but you block them out to the best of your ability. You don’t want to know what they think about this or what they have to say about your situation. If you’re lucky, they'll think you’re rather pathetic and feel vaguely sympathetic towards you. If you’re unlucky, then Jake will do what he always does and poke his nose in your business in an attempt to sort things out for you. The idea fills you with a sense of horror; who knows what he’ll say or do to people to get you laid.
As you look out across the gathering, one head in particular turns to look back at you in return. Ola’netu is looking your way, and your spine goes ram-rod straight when he smiles at you.
Like an idiot, you look around to see if there’s anyone sitting nearby that he might be smiling at instead. It’s possible that he was actually smiling at Jake, but both Jake and Neytiri are distracted with whatever almost silent conversation they’re having over your head.
Slowly, you look back at him. His smile has gotten wider, as though he finds you funny. Your heart skips, eyes growing wide as you stare back at him. You’re a little bewildered, but you can’t ignore the sudden pulse of wild excitement that shoots through you. He’s looking at you. He’s looking and he’s possibly interested in humans, and does this mean something?
Tentatively, you smile back. It’s more a nervous quirk of the lips, but Ola’netu seems to take it as encouragement because he begins walking over towards you.
“Oh!” You blurt in a soft whisper, startled to see him approach. You press back into Jake’s chest automatically, peeking out from the cage of his big arms to watch as Ola’netu makes his way around the fire towards where you’re sitting.
Jake doesn’t seem to notice your distraction. He just adjusts his arms when you shuffle closer, still whispering with Neytiri with his brow furrowed. But Neytiri glances down at your quiet sound, and then follows the line of your gaze out towards the gathering. When she spots Ola’netu walking over, her eyes widen and she sits back in surprise to watch his approach.
Ola’netu walks with a swagger, with all the confidence of a warrior in his prime in the middle of mating season. It’s a little overwhelming to have all of that directed at you, and you find yourself floundering a little the closer he gets.
When he comes to a stop in front of where the three of you are sitting, Jake finally seems to notice him. He turns his head, blinking up at Ola’netu when he comes to stand by the log.
“Ola’netu.” Jake greets him. There’s an edge to his voice that he doesn’t usually have when he talk to the people in the clan, and you can feel his muscles tense a little where he’s pressed against your back.
“Olo’eyktan,” Ola’netu greets, gesturing to Jake out of respect. His attention doesn’t stay on Jake for long though, because then his big yellow eyes swing towards you where you’re curled up between Jake’s thighs. “Tawtute. Will you dance?”
For a long moment, you’re frozen. Though you had been talking about human/Na’vi pairings only moments ago, it had felt hypothetical. There was a big difference between Ola’netu possibly being interested in humans, and him being interested in you, after all.
You can’t remember the last time you felt desired. You feel valued of course, thanks to your friends, but you haven’t actually felt like a sexual being in a long time. But now this big, strong Na’vi warrior is standing in front of you asking you to dance during mating season, after spending all evening turning down dances from beautiful Na’vi women.
“I don’t think–” Jake starts to say from above you, but you don’t let him finish.
“Yes!” You say quickly, wiggling your way out of Jake’s arms. He seems to forget to actually let go of you, which means you have to practically wrestle your way free. “Yes, I’d like to dance.”
Ola’netu grins, and you feel your own expression break into an answering smile. A dance! No one has ever asked you to dance like this!
You allow yourself to be led out towards the rest of the gathering, your small hand enveloped by Ola’netu’s much larger one, and you don’t glance back once to see the expression on your friends’ faces.
The evening had gone better than you could have ever hoped for.
Ola’netu had been polite and courteous, clearly fascinated with your alien features but never to the point of making you uncomfortable. You had danced for what felt like forever; first, copying his movements as best you could from hip-height, but then as the dancing slowed down Ola’netu had crouched to his knees and guided you in a dance from eye-level. It had made you blush something fierce; the dancing of the Na’vi is often joyful and wild and unrestrained, but for mating season it’s slow and sensual in a way that had made your knees weak as Ola’netu had cradled you against his much larger body.
Even now, as Jake walks you through the forest back to the outpost, you can hardly keep the smile off your face. You’re slung over Jake’s back like a baby koala to save time, as Jake can move through the forest faster when you’re not stumbling over roots behind him – the position means that you can tuck your face into his shoulder and daydream about the whole evening, replaying it all back through your mind.
“Did you see when he was spinning me around by the waist?” You ask, leaning forward over Jake’s shoulder in an attempt to see his face.
Jake just grunts.
“He said my hair was pretty too,” You murmur, an absent-minded little smile growing on your face. “Do you think Tuk would braid some more beads in, if I asked?”
“Mhm.” Jake doesn’t sound as though he’s interested, but his big hand pats at your thigh where they’re wrapped around his waist to show he’s listening. “She would. You don’t need that, though.”
You’re too lost in your thoughts to reply, resting your head against Jake’s shoulder and daydreaming. It’s exciting to experience attention like that, and so unusual for you too. Even if nothing ever comes of it, you think that this entire interaction will fuel your confidence for months to come.
You hardly even notice when you and Jake reach the outpost, but it’s not as though he needs you to give him directions. He knows the layout of the outpost well, and is perfectly capable of navigating his way around without your help.
It’s late, yet the outpost is still buzzing with activity. The scientists stick to odd hours, often getting so absorbed in their work that they’re hardly even aware of time passing, and they barely even glance up at the sight of Jake carrying you into the outpost.
The area for living is a little cramped, but you have managed to secure a tiny room for yourself away from the rest of the human inhabitants. It’s small, but it’s private, which is a rare luxury in the outpost.
Jake ducks his head in through the doorway, and plucks you off his back in the same movement. You’re used to him man-handling you, considering how much larger he is, and so you don’t resist as he pulls you around to hold you against his chest before settling you back down to the floor.
“Maybe I’ll come back around the village tomorrow,” You say, turning on your heel to beam up at Jake. “Ola’netu said that there’ll be a sturmbeest hunt tomorrow, and there’ll be a celebration in the evening.”
Jake grumbles, stepping forward and sinking down onto your lumpy bed. It creaks dangerously under his weight; it’s comically small beneath his enormous frame, his long legs hanging off the mattress as his torso spreads out over the bed.
“You don’t need a reason to come to the village.” He mumbles, his mouth opening wide and his fangs flashing as he yawns. “Definitely not because Ola’netu invited you.”
You roll your eyes. “Why are you being bitter? Let me be happy about this.”
There’s a beat of silence, and then Jake rolls over onto his side to watch you. When he doesn’t speak immediately, you avert your gaze and turn your back to him. You’re still wearing the Na’vi clothes gifted to you by Kiri, and you’re beginning to feel significantly more exposed now in the privacy of your own room than you had when you had been surrounded by other Na’vi dressed similarly to you.
“You know,” Jake begins in a low drawl from behind you, “I didn’t even know you were looking at the Na’vi like that.”
“I’m not looking at anybody in any way.” You grumble, moving over to your dresser. You’re careful not to look back over at Jake on your bed, already flustered enough by the topic of conversation. “Will you look away? I’m about to change.”
Jake completely ignores you; you can feel his eyes boring into you as you rummage through your dresser looking for your pyjamas.
“You’re looking at the villagers like they’re people you want to fuck.”
“Jake,” You snap, growing irritated. “Quit it. You’re making this weird when it isn’t.”
“Oh yeah?” Jake’s voice grows amused, teasing, which is a little infuriating. You do your best to ignore him as you go rooting for a tank top. “What are these for, then?”
You glance over your shoulder, already on edge just from the tone of his voice, and feel your stomach drop at what you see. The drawer in your bedside locker is open – it’s where you keep all your underwear, and there’s several pairs of panties hanging out from where Jake has clearly been rooting around.
Dangling from his big blue index finger is a pair of bright red lacy panties.
“Jake!” You shriek, jolting forward and reaching out to try and grab your underwear off him. “Oh my god, you big pervert!”
Infuriatingly, he just laughs and holds you at bay with a single hand placed across your sternum. It takes so little effort that it feels as though he’s dealing with a child, and you let out a little sound of frustration as you attempt to wrestle your underwear back out of his hands.
“Oh, come on,” He’s laughing, big hand spread all across your chest to keep you away. “What’re you getting angry over? Can’t your best friend ask why you have sexy panties all hidden away?”
“The key word there is hidden!” You snap, mortified. “Why were you going through my underwear drawer, you absolute weirdo-”
When you slap at his chest, he simply loops one arm around your waist and hauls you up into his lap. Your irritation doesn’t faze him in the slightest; he just looks amused.
“Maybe I was worried about you,” He says, finally allowing you to grab the lacy panties out of his hands in favour of pulling you closer to his chest. “Am I not allowed to be worried about my friend?”
“You’re not worried,” You snap, holding the red lace to your chest as he adjusts you on his lap. “You’re just making fun of me!”
Jake has always been touchy, but now that you’re sat in his lap in nothing but a Na’vi tewng and beaded chest accessory those touches feel heightened somehow – his hands are big and calloused and hot as he holds you still in his lap, his eyes watching you closely. It’s not so dissimilar to how you had been sitting earlier in the village, but this time you’re alone and in your room and he’s making fun of you over your panties.
“Nah,” Jake drawls, “I’m worried about you trying to take on more than you can handle. Are you even familiar with Na’vi anatomy?”
You nearly choke, flustered. “I-I’ve studied the People for years–”
Jake’s grin only widens and grows sharper, as though he’s scenting blood in the water. “Have you experienced it outside of a damn textbook, sweetheart?”
You falter. He knows the answer to that, yet he’s watching you closely as you fumble with the question.
“No.” You say at last, fingers clenching around the lace in your hand. “You know I haven’t.”
“You want to?”
For a long moment, you wonder if you heard him correctly. You pull back and do a double take, staring up at him in bewilderment. He’s staring at you hard, all big eyes and long lashes, and you swallow thickly. The atmosphere between you is thick and tense in a way that you’re not used to experiencing around Jake, and it’s making you skittish.
“I–” You begin, your throat spasming as you swallow nervously. The next words come out in a breathy whisper, completely missing the light-hearted joking tone you had been aiming for. “Are you offering?”
Jake chuckles quietly, one hand trailing down your back to rest on the base of your spine. It’s an innocent touch, but your tewng is slung low over your hips and the texture of Jake’s hand is rough and hot against the sensitive skin of your back.
“”’Course I am. You should have come to me straight away when you first started thinking about Na'vi cock. Haven't I always looked after you, huh?” Jake is still grinning, but he finally releases his hold on your hips.
You go scrambling back, almost falling right over onto your ass as you clamber back to your feet. You’re still clutching at your sexy underwear, your cheeks burning – you’ve never actually had the opportunity to wear them since you arrived on Pandora, and you’re humiliated that he’s found them and looked at them and held them. You’re so distracted with the underwear situation that it takes you a moment to fully catch up to what Jake is really saying.
“But–” You manage, swallowing thickly. “But Neytiri-”
“Weren’t you listening earlier? Sex is a means for bonding in mated pairs as well as outside of them,” Jake reminds you, his head tilted as he watches you. “You need a release, and you need someone to guide you through it before you go fumbling around with other Na’vi. I’m your best friend, aren’t I?”
You nod slowly, wondering how the conversation has taken this particular turn. Your pulse feels terribly loud, and you half wonder if you’re dreaming this whole evening – everything feels so strange.
“So, go on,” Jake says casually, leaning back on his hands as his legs spread where they’re hanging off the mattress, his tewng shifting. “Take a look, if you want.”
You hesitate, eyes wide. You can hardly believe what he’s offering, yet your stomach fills with anticipatory butterflies. You’ve never gotten the opportunity to explore a Na’vi body like this before; in the safety of your own room, you can sate your own curiosity that’s been building for years. And even better, it’s with your best friend – Jake might tease you, but he would never judge you for this.
Tentatively, you step back towards Jake. He’s still sitting with his legs spread wide on your bed, his eyes sharp and predatory as you move closer to him. His mouth starts to tilt up, but he keeps himself impressively still as he waits for your next move. It feels as though you’re in charge of this interaction, but it also feels as though that control is tenuous.
You’re practically holding your breath as you reach out to brush your fingers over the musculature of his chest. His body is softer now than it used to be, his human DNA coming to the fore as the years go by. You actually prefer this to the lean litheness of his Avatar body when he had first gotten it; your fingers trail over his pecs, enjoying the soft cushions of his muscles. His skin has an almost velvet-like texture, and you take the chance to really enjoy the feel of it against your fingertips.
Jake holds perfectly still as your touch coasts over his chest, down towards his stomach; though he’s not moving, he’s watching you closely as you touch him. Your blood is roaring in your ears, your heart beating in your throat. It feels as though you’re walking a thin line here, and you’re worried that you’re about to cross a point of no return.
“It’s not just my chest you wanna see, is it, sweetheart?” Jake asks, his voice deep enough that his stomach rumbles beneath your fingertips. “Where else do you wanna look?”
You swallow thickly, momentarily distracted by the pretty azure stripes on his belly. He has two freckles just over his belly button, and your eyes are drawn to them like they’ve been magnetised.
“Can I–” You begin, your tongue heavy and clumsy in your overly dry mouth. “Can I see your, um... your tail?”
There’s a pause, and then Jake laughs. It’s a dry sort of chuckle, as though your request has taken him by surprise.
“Yeah, kid. Of course you can.” He says, still grinning, before shuffling forward on the bed so that he’s sitting right on the edge of the mattress.
He’s so comically big sitting on your bed, his long legs all bent up as he leans forward with his elbows resting on his knees. Like this, his back is long and taut and his tail is perfectly exposed at the base of his spine.
A little thrill runs through you as you climb up onto the bed beside him, your eyes fixed on his tail. It undulates lazily in the air, as though anticipating your touch coming its way. If you were to be honest with yourself, you’ve experienced the urge to grab at his tail many times over the years as it waves about, but never in the way you want to touch it now.
The base of his tail seems to attach right into the base of his spine, and you touch the little protrusion there curiously. The ties of his tewng wrap delicately around the base of his tail, and you run your fingers carefully over the butter-soft skin there.
You’re faintly aware of Jake sighing above you, shifting just slightly as you stroke over his tail. It twitches, as though he’s not sure whether he should be pushing into your touch or away from it. It’s prehensile and active, writhing in the air under your fingers. It’s almost sweet, and you can’t fight your little smile as it twitches under your hand.
“Mmm,” Jake hums, and turns to look at you over his shoulder. A few of his locs have slipped over his shoulder, and hang over his face as he looks at you through heavily lidded eyes. “You finished with that?”
You are, but you find yourself nervous to move on. The whole situation feels as though it’s slipping out from between your fingers, and you glance nervously up at Jake’s face in an attempt to read his thoughts. You don’t know what your next move should be, and you try to pick up any hints from his expression.
“I guess.” You whisper, fingers lingering around the spot where his tail meets his spine.
Jake huffs a soft chuckle, reaching around to grab at your wrist. He’s gentle when he tugs you away from his back, pulling you around to his front so that he can see you properly.
“What’re you so nervous for?” He asks in a murmur. “It’s just me.”
That actually makes you laugh softly with him, your shoulders loosening a little. He’s right – this is Jake, just Jake. He’s trying to help you.
“Yeah,” You breathe, smiling back at him. You don’t feel confident about it, exactly, but you relax into him enough that you feel comfortable enough to keep touching him, growing even bolder with your wandering hands.
It’s natural for you to be curious about his queue, so that’s where you reach next. You do so somewhat cautiously, waiting for him to stop you. You’re well aware of the implications of this particular part of the Na’vi anatomy, and you didn’t truly think you’d ever get an opportunity to examine it closer.
Jake doesn’t stop you as you pull the thick braid covering his neural queue over his shoulder towards you, though you don’t miss the nearly imperceptible shudder that goes through him. You keep your touches gentle as you explore the thick glossy hair covering it, your curious fingers travelling slowly down towards the bottom.
“Careful.” Jake says. His voice comes out thicker than usual, rough and gravelly, and the sound of it startles you into looking up. His eyes are like molten gold, except the pretty green-gold of his iris has been swallowed up by the black hole of his pupils as they expand.
“Sorry,” You whisper, staring back at him with wide eyes. “Does it hurt?”
Jake’s expression twitches, his mouth curling into a self-satisfied, amused sort of smile. “Nah, it doesn’t hurt. Keep going. Just go easy – that bit is sensitive.”
You nod to yourself, and keep your touch as light as you can as you hold the end of his braid up to your face for closer inspection. Thin, pinkish tendrils writhe in the low light of your room, and you squint at them in fascination – it’s the first time you’ve seen anything like this in person, and you feel your mouth form a little ‘O’ in awe. You’re holding an extension of Jake’s whole nervous system in your hands. You’re struck by the sheer level of trust in you that he must have to allow you to do this, and you feel your stomach go a little gooey with sheer affection towards your friend.
“Wow,” You breathe, watching the tendrils curl and react as your breath ghosts over them. “Amazing.”
Jake grunts, sounding faintly pained. You look up from his queue, startled, only to see that his back has rounded slightly as he sits with his elbows leaning on his knees.
“Oh,” You blurt. “I am hurting you! You should have said! I’m sorry, I didn’t–”
“No, kid,” He breathes, turning to look at you with a grin. “Like I said, it’s sensitive. It feels good.”
You blink, startled. “Oh.”
You can’t help the way your eyes trail down towards his tewng, especially where the flap of the loincloth hangs heavy between his legs. His thighs are thick and well-muscled, and you shift on the bed beside him as you eye him up.
“Take the tewng off.” Jake guides you in a low rumble, his big hand spreading across your lower back and pressing you gently forward towards him.
“Mine or yours?” You ask, eyes wide and a little nervous as you stare back at him.
That makes Jake laugh, his thumb stroking over the bare skin just above your own little loincloth. “That’s up to you, sweetheart.”
Right. You swallow, your mouth dry with nerves. The ball is in your court here.
Slowly, you reach out to the sides of his loincloth with trembling fingers. It takes a bit of effort to undo the ties that keep him covered considering your nervous fumbling, but you manage to get the tewng untied without Jake’s help – not that he’s trying to help. He just sits there and watches you with those big eyes of his, though they’re half-lidded now as his tail undulates behind him.
You’re genuinely nervous, but it’s like you’re being driven by a pure compulsion. You can’t stop your hands from reaching for the coarse fabric, regardless of the anxious tremor in your fingertips. Now that Jake is sitting in front of you, willing and inviting as his legs spread wide for you, you are eager to explore his body as he offers himself up for you.
“Okay,” You breathe to yourself, hyping yourself up as you peel back the fabric of his tewng.
When you strip it back and move to set it aside, you practically freeze on the spot. His cock is big, and it’s half-hard where it springs up from beneath the coarsely woven material of his loincloth. For some reason, the sight of his obvious arousal takes you by surprise, and you take a sharp inhale of breath as you stare.
Jake is cocky, and he leans back on his hands as he spreads his thighs even wider apart. Under your wide, fascinated stare, you swear his cock swells further. It’s not much of a surprise that the pretty blue stripes that pattern his body extend to his cock too, but the little dots of bioluminescence scattered over the length of his erection is a surprise. His cock is pretty, the tip of it the same adorable pink of his soft, cat-like nose.
Your palms itch at the sight of it, and your thighs shift and slide together – you want to touch him, so badly that the urge is physical.
“Well?” Jake asks; the bastard sounds a mixture of amused and proud. “What do you think of your first Na’vi cock, huh?”
You feel as though you’ve been struck dumb. He’s so damn confident about himself, and now that you’re faced with the sight of his erection jutting up from his body like this you’re reluctant to admit that he has reason to be confident. You’d rather choke on your own tongue than admit that, though; you just know that his head would swell to unbearable proportions.
You clear your throat and affect a disinterested tone as you lie, “I thought it'd be bigger.”
Jake tilts his head back towards the ceiling and huffs a deep, throaty laugh. Your indifference is utterly unconvincing considering the way your eyes are practically glued to his cock and the way you shift around with your thighs sliding together.
“I can smell you, smartass.” He rumbles, exposing those sharp fangs of his in a grin. “All sweet and musky. Smells like you like what you see.”
You release your breath in a surprised huff. You forget sometimes that the Na’vi have such superior senses; the reminder has you flushing in mortification as you scramble to think about all the other times Jake may have been able to scent arousal from you. He had almost certainly been smelling it all fucking evening as you had been watching the mating season dances.
“Well, maybe I’m just impressed that there’s a part of you that looks this pretty.” You say obstinately, tilting your chin up towards him. “It’s, like, the total opposite of your face.”
Jake’s grin doesn’t falter, not even for a second. He coos, affecting an expression of exaggerated hurt.
“You don’t think I’m pretty, baby?” He asks, leaning closer to you so that your noses are practically touching.
You swallow, just barely stifling the urge to jolt back. It’s so rare for him to be close to you like this without your exo-pack in the way, and the feel of his hot breath ghosting against your lips like this sends a little thrill down your spine.
“Shut up,” You grumble, before clambering off the bed and sinking to your knees in front of him.
Jake’s eyebrows shut up, his grin turning sharp and anticipatory. “Yes, ma’am. Who am I to interrupt your scientific exploration, huh?”
Scientific exploration, you think to yourself. Yes, that makes sense. That’s all this is. Jake is just helping you so that you don’t make a total fool of yourself if it comes to intimacy with other Na’vi, because he’s your friend and he cares about you.
You shuffle closer to him on your knees, and reach out to tentatively take a hold of his cock. Like this, you’re able to get an even closer look – it’s such a pretty shade of jewel blue, all patterned with azure stripes and dotted with those lovely bioluminescent white dots. There’s even a little cluster of phosphorescent white freckles near the pretty pink tip, and you lean in to admire the way they glow.
Up close like this, you can see that there are veiny little ridges all along the shaft. You trail your fingers over those little bumps curiously, jerking your head back when Jake’s hips twitch, pushing his cock further into your hand.
“Fuck,” He breathes, “Sorry, honey. Keep going.”
Jake’s cock is so hard, harder than any human dick you’ve ever felt. It’s like holding a goddamn lead pipe all wrapped up in velvety soft skin. You can’t stop staring at the delicate little glowing white freckles, fascinated with the way they pulse in time with the twitch of his pretty pink cockhead. You’ve never actually thought of a cock as beautiful before, and you resent the fact that it’s fucking Jake that’s changed your mind.
You look up at him, his swollen cock cradled in your hands. “Do you–” You break off, swallowing. “Do you really think I could take something like this? Maybe you were right earlier. This might be out of my league.”
Jake’s expression softens a little at that, and he reaches out to rest his hand on top of your head. His thumb strokes over your scalp softly, soothingly.
“That’s quitter’s talk, kid,” His tone is antagonising and completely at odds with the softness of his touch. It’s the kind of tone he uses when he’s challenging you during your bouts of bicking. “You haven’t even tried yet. We’ll get you ready for it.”
He’s only trying to help, and yet you feel excited heat curdle low in your belly. You want his help so much more than you had expected – you don’t know what getting you ready for it involves, but you crave it.
“Okay.” You breathe.
He taps your cheek with his index finger, all fond and soft as you turn your attention back down to his erection in your hands. Your grip is still a little uncertain; you barely know what you’re doing. This is so far outside of your past experience.
When your grip firms, Jake grunts softly and a delicate little trickle of pearlescent precum dribbles from his cockhead down over your fingers. His precum is tinged blue, which is enough of a novelty that you almost giggle at the sight of it. You use both your hands to explore his length, fingers trailing over all those delicate ridges. The little phosphorescent freckles along the top close to his tip are apparently sensitive, because when you rub your thumbs over them Jake’s hips thrust gracelessly into the air.
“Fuck,” He sighs, his big hand settling firmly over the top of your head. “That’s it. Touch the bottom of it – there’s a spongey part that feels good when it’s stimulated.”
You follow his instructions. There’s a curious swell around the base of his cock that just seems to be growing. One of your hands travels down to it curiously, splaying over it and then rubbing it at it experimentally. His hips rock forward sharply, a huff of breath leaving him as he grunts a muted, “Fuck!”
Jake is so much more expressive than you had expected him to be – but then again, you’ve never really thought of him like this. He’s almost panting as he leans back on his elbows, craning his neck so he can get a look at what you’re doing. One of his sharp incisors is digging into the soft swell of his lower lip, a little furrow between his brows that deepens every time you rub at his erection.
“What is this?” You wonder, prodding curiously at the soft, spongey tissue around the base of his cock.
He huffs a laugh, rocking his hips a little further into your hands. “Weird, isn’t it? Come on, I thought you ‘studied the People for years’ – don’t you know what this is?”
You flush, averting your gaze from his slightly mocking eyes. “You– no, I don’t… I mean, it was more from an anthropological point of view–”
Jake purses his lip in a little pout – it’s a mockingly sympathetic look. “Na’vi men don’t have scrotums, honey. Instead we have these weird little squishy parts. To hold the cum, I guess, I don’t know. Never really asked. Look, press down on it.”
Despite the less than satisfactory explanation, you press the tips of your fingers a little harder into the soft swell around his cock. More precum bubbles out of the little slit on the top of his cock, spilling over as though you’ve just squeezed it out of the squishy base.
“Oh,” You breathe, before looking up at him with an impish sort of expression. “I always knew you had no balls.”
That wipes the stupid smug look off Jake’s face, although he tilts his head back and snorts a laugh. “Oh, you’re such a dickhead.”
Your face melts into a grin, your head all tilted back as you watch him laugh. This feels more like your normal dynamic, and you relax where you’re kneeling between his thighs. It’s reassuring to know that even with his hard dick in your hands dribbling precum all over you, your friendship remains unstrained.
Finally, you lean forward and lick a stripe up the underside of his cock. It’s more experimental than anything; you want to feel that velvety soft skin under your tongue, to see how it tastes. The swollen flesh of his dick is hot, the weight of it pleasantly hefty on your tongue. You’re a little surprised to find that it tastes similar to human dicks that you’ve experienced before; a little more earthy, perhaps, a little sweeter to taste.
Jake tilts his head back with a little grunt, his fingers tightening a little in the roots of your hair. Encouraged by his reaction, you wrap your lips around the pretty pink tip and suckle there. Jake’s stomach muscles tense, his hips making an aborted rocking movement; he only barely manages to hold himself back from shoving his cock right down your throat by sheer force of will.
He lets out a startled laugh, his surprise getting the best of him. “Fuck. Oh shit, you’re hungry for it, aintcha?”
Your cheeks heat, and you pull your mouth off his cock so you can scowl up at him. He’s bigger than you’re used to, so you have to reach up and wipe a trail of drool off your chin thanks to your mouth being stretched so wide.
“Don’t be an asshole,” You whine, narrowing your eyes. “Stop making fun of me.”
“Okay, okay, okay,” He concedes, his hips flexing slightly to bring his cock closer to your face again. “Keep sucking on it, I won’t say another word. Come on, you were doing so well. How much of it can you take?”
He’s playing on your own scientific curiosity, and you hate to say it but it’s working. You don’t know how much of it you can take, but you’re so eager to find out. It doesn’t help that you’re horny; you can feel the tewng Kiri had made for you growing damp where it’s tucked between your legs, and you shift on your knees restlessly. You’re so aroused that you can feel your clit pulsing, and it’s starting to seriously affect your decision-making skills.
You shuffle forward again, and dip your head so you can take his cock into your mouth once more. A quick, nervous glance up at Jake shows that his eyes are all scrunched up, his brow pinched together as his mouth lolls open. You’ve never seen an expression like this on him, and you’re startled by the flood of heat that coils in your belly and between your legs. He likes this – obviously, you’re doing something right. It seems like Na’vi men really aren’t that different to human men, after all.
When you suckle softly at the tip of his cock, your tongue stroking curiously at the underside of the mushroomy tip, a soft rumble of a moan is torn from Jake’s throat. You take that as your cue to take all of him in your mouth as best as you can, giving one more enthusiastic suckle to the tip before swallowing him down. You only get about a quarter of the way down before you have to pull back and try again. Your mouth is stretched obscenely wide around the girth of him, and you swear you can feel the weight of his dick pulsing on your tongue.
“Oh, goddamn.” Jake grunts over your head. His thighs twitch, enclosing around you and keeping you pinned there. He’s so fucking big over you, it feels as though it’s giving you a headrush.
You suck him as best as you can, but your jaw is starting to ache from being hinged so wide. You can barely even manage half of his cock in your mouth, even when you really try. You alternate between stroking his length and suckling on the head of his dick, looking up at him through your watering eyes as you attempt to gauge his reactions. The swell at the base of his cock has engorged even further, and you prod at it curiously with one hand as you work his length with the other. It’s firm but oddly spongey, and everytime you poke at it Jake’s whole cock twitches.
You’re still all caged in by his big thighs bracketing your head and shoulders, breathing heavily through your nose as his cock weighs heavily on your tongue. His hips make the sweetest little aborted rocking motions, like he wants nothing more than to let go but is trying his best to restrain himself for your sake.
But then you suckle at the head, the flat of your tongue dragging over the slit on the tip of his dick in the same motion as you twist your fist around the base of his cock, right where the little swell is. The grunt that’s torn out of Jake’s throat is positively feral, and his hips twitch up to force his fat cock further into your mouth.
It chokes you, and you gag once before blinking up at him with teary eyes. You shoot a panicked look up at him, cheeks bulging and drool overflowing down your chin.
“Oh, Jesus, fuck,” He tosses his head back so he can’t see you, forcing his hips back down to the bed and holding himself very still. “Don’t fucking look at me like that-”
You haul your head back, mouth popping wetly off his cock as you cough. “You nearly fucking suffocated me, dickhead-!”
“Sorry, sorry,” He gasps, his chest heaving as he pets blindly at your hair. “Was my cock too big for you?”
“Ugh,” You slap at the inside of his thigh, making him jolt. “You are actually unbearable–”
Jake just laughs, before leaning forward and wrapping his big hands around your forearms. He uses his grip to pull you up, lifting you right off the ground and onto the bed beside him.
“Jake!” You complain, trying to wiggle your way out of his hands. “I wasn’t finished!”
“You can finish sucking it later, sweetheart,” He grunts, clambering up on the mattress after you, the muscles of his thighs flexing as he crouches over you. “But this isn’t just about me, is it? I promised I’d get you ready, didn’t I?”
“Yeah,” You say in a weak sort of whisper, wiggling a little bit as Jake looms over you. He presses softly on your chest, pushing you to lay on your back beneath him. “Yeah, you did.”
Jake pauses then, his big golden green eyes flicking over your face. Whatever he sees has his expression softening, some of that feral hunger mellowing out as his big hands land on your knees.
“Spread your legs for me,” He whispers, his fingers squeezing lightly around the soft flesh of your thigh. “Nice and wide, come on.”
Your knees drop open without thought, breath catching in your chest. You don’t even have the wherewithal to feel self-conscious before Jake pushes himself down so that his big shoulders are bullying their way between your legs, keeping you all spread out for him.
Jake reaches for the strings of your tewng, and unties it much more efficiently than you had managed to untie his. You wince a little when he peels it back, cheeks flushing when you feel the way it sticks to your slick, aroused pussy. He laughs softly, before leaning his head against your knee and inhaling deeply.
“Fuck,” He breathes, his eyelids fluttering shut as his nostrils flare. “Oh, shit.”
“Are you fucking smelling me?” You hiss, embarrassment swelling. “Oh god, you’re such a perv, what is wrong with you–”
“Shut up a second,” Jake grunts, wiggling his way closer until his wide, flat nose is pressed right up against you. He inhales again, his chest rumbling as he sniffs at the slickness at your entrance. “Jesus Christ, kid. You’re so wet. Is this all from sucking my cock?”
You close your thighs hard, trying to squeeze his head in revenge. “No! Asshole. You said you could smell me earlier!”
“Yeah,” Jake snorts a laugh, his ears flicking against the soft flesh on the inside of your thighs. He doesn’t seem bothered by the way your thighs are squeezing around his head at all. “I’ve been smelling you for years, sweetheart. It’s all part of being Na’vi. But it’s a little different with my head between your legs.”
You barely even have time to let the whole ‘smelling you for years’ thing sink in before Jake bats at your knees, spreading you wide again. He might not be sniffing at you anymore, but his eyes are wide and sharp and analytical as he holds your thighs open – he’s looking at your cunt thoughtfully, inspecting you.
“Jake,” You complain, trying to wiggle your hips away. “Quit staring-”
“I’m evaluating.” He mumbles, grabbing at your hips to keep you still as he squints at you. His fingers prod at your folds, rubbing over the swollen bump of your clit and humming when you shiver. “Your cunt is small, honey. A Na’vi cock is gonna stretch you real wide.”
His big thumb rolls lazily over your clit, before his face pushes closer. His eyelids flutter as he inhales again, his touches to your clit growing more insistent. It feels good, and you bite at your lip as you watch him work his big fingers on you.
“What if-” You begin, before losing some of your nerve. You force yourself to swallow, and try again. “What if I want to be stretched real wide?”
A beat, and then Jake drops his head with a soft groan.
“Fuck,” He breathes, hot against the inside of your thigh. “Yeah. We can arrange that, I guess.”
When his fingers trace over your outer lips you jerk, the touch catching you by surprise. The sudden movement causes him to make a rumbling sound in his chest, almost like a warning, and you still. You can feel his breath ghosting over the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, and you shiver just a little when he kisses along your outer lips. It’s the anticipation that’s getting to you more than anything, every nerve firing as you wait for his next touch.
When his middle finger prods at you, you take a breath and hold it. He presses in slowly, the large digit sinking in up to the knuckle. You’re wet and eager and excited, and so it goes relatively easy; even so, one of his fingers is the equivalent to two of yours, and you whine softly at the stretch of it.
“That’s it,” Jake encourages, his spare hand stroking over your thigh. “Aw, look at you. Trembling ‘cause of a single finger–”
You grunt – your irritation with him washes away the pleasant tingly feeling that his thumb rolling over his clit is building.
“Gimme another,” You demand, leaning your head back against the mattress as you try to push your hips back towards him. “I can take another one.”
“Take it easy, tiger,” He says, his stupid handsome face contorting in a smirk. “You’ll get another when you’re ready.”
“I’m ready now-”
“Shut up,” He grumbles, but he says it with a little chuckle. “Why do you always think you’re right?”
“Because I am always right- oh!” You break off, sucking in a startled breath when Jake’s big mouth encloses over your clit and sucks.
His tongue is big and wet and rough, and you choke out a pathetic sort of moan, your hips twitching into his mouth. He’s just so good with his tongue, it makes your breath stutter and rattle in your chest. When he sucks at your clit, you sit up on your elbows so that you can watch him. He meets your gaze and throws you a cheeky wink as he laps at you, and you just know that he feels you physically react to it by the way he laughs a little into your cunt.
“Jake,” You wheeze, squeezing your eyes shut. “I– oh, god-”
Irritatingly, he just pulls back a little and laughs. “Can’t believe you had the neck to call me a perv when you get this wet at the thought of a big alien dick splitting you open.”
You draw your leg back to try to kick his head, but it seems like he expects that move from you because he catches your calf with his free hand and tugs it over his shoulder. When he dives back in face first, he laps and sucks at you so eagerly that you fist your hand in his hair reflexively as you twitch against him. All you can do is hang on for dear life as he devotes everything he has to eating you out.
You’re so distracted by the feeling of him suckling at your cunt that the next finger he presses inside you takes you completely by surprise. Though you had been demanding another finger, the stretch of it stings a little. Two Na’vi fingers feel like the equivalent of a human cock, and you writhe a little, your breath stuttering as you push eagerly into his fingers despite the stretch of it.
You squeal and your hips buck, but Jake uses the hand that’s not knuckle deep inside of you to press on your hip and pin you down, keeping you still as he suckles at your cunt.
“Fuck!” You gasp, trying to tilt your hips away from his mouth. It’s too much, too fast, but he holds you still and forces you to take it until you’re trembling in his hands. “Feels – ah! – good.”
“‘Course it does,” He grunts, his mouth twitching into a grin against you. “I told you I’d take care of you, didn’t I?”
He mouths along the lips of your pussy, his teeth grazing and scratching at the sensitive skin just right. You make a noise that sounds embarrassingly close to a sob, and feel Jake grinning into the soft flesh of your pussy.
“Another?” He asks, tilting his head up to look at you. His eyelids flutter up at you, the picture of innocence as though he’s not currently stuffing you full and making you cry around his fingers.
“I don’t–” You start thickly, “I don’t know–”
“That’s okay,” He coos at you. “Leave it up to me, yeah?”
“Yeah,” You say immediately, muscles melting back into the mattress as you give into him. “Yeah, okay.”
“Atta girl,” He hums, ducking his head back down and tracing your folds with his tongue, pulling them into his mouth and suckling. You relax a little, humming your pleasure. But then Jake is digging his tongue into the top of your folds and locating the nub of your clit with absolute precision, and you arch your back with a little scream.
He laughs, because he’s a bastard, but doesn’t so much as pause. He’s relentless, devoting everything he has to your clit. He laps at it, stiffens his tongue to a point and flicks at it, wraps his lips around it again and sucks. When he introduces his teeth and grazes it, you’re gone; your whole body seizes up and you keen as you come, but even then Jake doesn’t pull away. He laps and suckles at you until you’re gasping and writhing from the overstimulation.
You can’t catch your breath after your orgasm because his mouth is still busy with your clit. While your head is still spinning from the pleasant white haze of your orgasm, Jake pushes a third finger into you. The slide is made easier by how slick you’ve gotten, but you still have to bite back the squeal that wants to escape from between your teeth, tossing your head back desperately into the mattress and whining.
Finally, he pulls away from your clit, and you’re able to breathe again.
“Nice,” He breathes, resting his chin on your lower belly and grinning at you as he works his fingers deeper. “Look at you – stretched real wide.”
The entire lower half of his face is wet and shiny from your slick and his own spit, and he looks absolutely obscene as he grins. His tongue pokes out and licks the mess off of his lips, crooking his fingers into the spongey area at the front of your inner walls and snickering as you squeal.
“Jake,” You whimper, turning your face away and nuzzling into the blankets all bunched up by your head. “It’s… it’s so much, it’s too much–”
“Nah, honey, you’re doing fine,” He breathes, reaching out to catch your chin. He pulls your face out of your little shield of blankets so that he can see you properly. “You were right, weren’t you? You can take it, you can take it so well.”
His eyes go half-lidded when he watches you take his fingers. It’s so overwhelming, and yet you spread your legs wider and lift your knees, silently hoping he’ll take it as the invitation that it is and fuck you harder. He complies happily, and the wet, squelching sounds that come from his fingers in your cunt only seem to work Jake up even further.
“Fuck,” Jake grunts, raising himself up on his knees so that he can shuffle further up your body, all hunched over you as his fingers work deeper inside you. “Lift up your top.”
You don’t know what the point of lifting it up would be when the beaded weave of it is all splayed out around your chest, completely baring your tits. You make a face at him, though you’re all sweaty and slack-jawed and you’re pretty sure it doesn’t have the effect you want it to have because Jake’s irises just dilate further.
“Why?” You mumble, humping your hips greedily into his fingers in an attempt to get him touching your clit again.
When you don’t move to adjust your top, he does it for you. He leans over you, shoving the delicate beaded strands up so that your chest is bare and uncovered.
“Let me suck on your tits.” He grunts, lowering his head and wrapping that big, skilled mouth of his around your left breast.
His tongue is rough and hot and wet, and the suction against your nipple is enough to rip a startled gasp right out of your mouth. It feels good, better than you had expected, and you moan as he mouths insistently at your tits.
“You’re like–” You gasp, eyes squeezing tight. “Fuck, you’re like a baby.”
That makes him snicker, though he doesn’t pull back from your breasts.
“Yeah.” He mumbles into your chest. “I’ve heard that one before.”
He presses harsh, biting kisses all along your left tit, his free hand kneading at your other breast like a fucking cat. He nips and sucks along the swell of your breast, leaving little bruises in his mouth’s wake before wrapping his lips around your nipple again and sucking.
“Fuck,” He moans, nuzzling at your chest. “Why didn’t you tell me you had tits like this, huh?”
The angle of his fingers shifts, and you let out a startled, choked gasp as they press right into that spongey part at the back of your cunt that has your legs shaking. He’s still grunting into your tits as he rubs the pads of his fingers against your insides. His thumb lands on your sensitive, swollen clit and rubs hard, and you nearly cry out as your back bows and you push eagerly into his touch.
“Fuck yes. Arch your back a little more, come on. Look at you going nice and tight around my fingers.” He groans, watching your hips hump against his hand.
“Holy fuck.” You choke, grabbing at the sheets beneath you. It’s too much and not enough, and your hips keep undulating like they can’t decide whether to twitch away from the stimulation or to go back for more.
“Fuck, just look at you riding my hand.” Jake mutters, nipping at your tits once more before pulling back to look down at the way you’re moving into him. “You gonna do that around my cock?”
“Yes,” You wheeze, eyes blowing wide at the thought. “Yes. Are you– are you gonna put it in?”
That makes Jake snicker meanly, which isn’t what you had been expecting. His mouth is so hot and searing against your skin, his fingers working you up slowly and steadily as he works you up.
“Not yet, honey,” He grunts, “You’re taking it like a champ, but you need a bit more practice, I think.”
Disappointment settles thick and heavy in your stomach, but it doesn’t last too long before it’s washed away by pure liquid pleasure. His fingers feel so good, filling you up so well. It feels like he’s fingerfucking the thoughts right out of your head, eyes rolling back in your head as he insistently rubs at you.
Jake’s mouth closes around your breast again, suckling lazily as his fingers fuck you steadily. Movement catches your eye, and you look down to see that Jake is now fisting his own cock with his free hand. The sight sends an electric little rush straight down your spine, and you arch your back as that sweet heat begins building and tightening in your lower belly.
You’re so aroused that you swear your pussy is twitching, and you’re so close to your own orgasm that you let your impatience get the better of you. Your hips jerk wildly, and you clutch at his shoulders and cry out as his fingers hit that one spot inside you that makes you feel gooey inside. Your eyes are half-closed as you hump your pussy back on Jake’s hand, letting out satisfied little cries as Jake fists and tugs at his cock like a desperate man.
The pleasure sitting in your lower belly is starting to coil tight, and your movements get a little sloppy as you desperately chase your release on Jake’s fingers. The pleasure is so close to cresting when Jake bites down on your breast in the same moment as he presses his fingers in deep as his thumb rolls over your clit. Your nipples are hard and sensitive already from all of Jake’s pawing and sucking at them, so the combination of his biting kisses and the overwhelming way he twists his fingers inside of you makes you think you might actually explode.
It only takes two more hard thrusts of his fingers before you’re tossing your head back and shaking apart with a short little scream, your entire body drawing up tight and tensing so hard that you can hardly see. Jake keeps his fingers moving, his own cock rutting into his other hand as he groans.
It feels like you’re cumming forever, the ecstasy drawn out by Jake’s clever fingers as they drag along your insides and light up every nerve and sweet spot you have. The slick sounds of him working his cock with his fist are mostly drowned out by the soft, breathy moans that you can’t keep quiet. He’s not very good at keeping himself quiet either though; your own ears are pricked up for the quiet, pleasured grunts that fall from his lips as his eyes dart over your face to your chest to the place where his fingers are disappearing inside of you.
Your clit grows oversensitive, and you wince as you reach to push at his wrist. “Jake–”
He obediently pulls his fingers out of you, leaving you dripping and clenching down on nothing. You hadn’t expected to feel so empty, and you whine in mindless complaint.
“Almost there,” He grunts, gasping wetly as he tugs at his cock. “Push your tits together for me.”
Watching him fall apart between your legs is so compelling, and you watch with wide eyes as he shivers, his ears twitching as his eyebrows creep higher and his mouth falls open. You do as he says without thought, grabbing at your breasts and pushing them together for him. Your head is still fuzzy and stupid, and you watch him with wide, guileless eyes as he moans above you.
Jake’s eyes have gone unfocused as the motion of his hips stutter and falter, but he’s still staring between your legs and at your tits as he fists his cock roughly, far harsher than you were when you were touching him. You watch avidly, your breaths hiccuping eagerly as you watch him twist his fist around the head of his cock.
When his whole body locks up as he strains against his orgasm, his hips spasming wildly, you almost flinch when a jet of hot cum bursts from his dick. The sheer amount of it surprises you, given his much larger size; he makes an absolute mess of you. His cum is a phosphorescent white-blue, glowing softly where it runs in rivulets over your exposed tits and ribs. You stare at it, fascinated, before raising your head to blink at Jake – you notice the swollen part at the base of his cock has deflated almost entirely, to the point that it’s hardly noticeable anymore.
“Shit,” Jake breathes, his chest still heaving. His face is still slack and pleasured, and he rolls to the side so that he can lay out beside you. He’s so big that most of his legs are hanging off your bed, but he still pulls you close to his chest and leaves his arm draped over your waist.
“Oh my god.” You mumble, staring wide-eyed at the ceiling.
Jake just hums, but you can feel him raise his head up so he can look down at you. His eyes trail over the veritable puddle of cum that he’s sprayed all over your tits and belly, and you can see the way his mouth twitches into a smirk.
“We shouldn’t have done that,” You whisper. Your brain is still slow and sort of stupid, but panic is beginning to seep in now. “Oh god. Fuck, are you sure Neytiri won’t mind?”
Jake snorts a laugh, though it’s a little lethargic. He’s curling himself around you as though he has no intentions of leaving anytime soon, and you hurry to stretch over to grab the CO2 respirator he had tossed lazily on the bedside locker. He takes it when you shove it at him and takes a lazy sip of air, before tossing it aside once more so that he can press his face into your throat and inhale.
“It was her idea,” He says, his voice a little muffled in your neck. “So no, she ain’t gonna mind.”
“It was her…” You start to repeat, your brain grappling wildly with that idea. It seems spectacularly unlikely, yet Jake isn’t the type to lie about something like that. But why on earth would his wife encourage him to do something like that?
As if he had heard your unspoken question, Jake sighs into your neck. “Why’re you surprised she’s worried about you? Didn’t I tell you before that we’d look after you, huh?”
That actually ignites a warm feeling of butterflies in your belly, and you bite on your lip to hide a smile. Oh, you have no idea how you’ve managed to get so lucky with your friends.
“I should shower,” You sigh, glancing down at the sticky mess he’s left all over you.
Jake’s arms tighten around you as if it’s a reflex reaction, except then he doesn’t let go. “Nah. Leave it. We can shower in the morning.”
“I’m gross,” You complain, wrinkling your nose as you reach for an old t-shirt that’s crumpled up by your pillow to wipe away the worst of the cum. The second part of what he had just said registers with you a moment later, and you glance up at him in surprise. “You’re staying the night?”
“Mmph.” Jake groans, tugging you closer again. He’s so goddamn big and overbearing that you can’t wrestle him off you, so you end up going limp and defeated in his arms. “Good fuckin’ luck tryin’ to move me.”
“Dick,” You grumble, but your own eyes are beginning to sleepily slide shut too. “I’m pretty sure I stink right now.”
There’s a pause, and then a wet, rough sensation on your throat. Your eyes fly open as you screech, arms windmilling to slap at his head.
“Are you licking me–”
“Taste fine,” He mumbles, before tugging you closer and yawning. “Taste like me.”
That leaves you genuinely speechless. How the fuck are you even supposed to react to that? At a loss, you end up just laying there gaping at the ceiling on your tiny, pathetic little bunk that’s currently creaking dangerously under the weight of your big stupid friend as he starts to snuffle sleepily beside you. If he hadn’t just given you the best orgasm you’ve had in years, you might be a little more annoyed.
You’ve just begun to think that Jake must have fallen asleep when he shifts, his tail coming up to curl lazily around your thigh. It seems almost like a subconscious gesture, except that his fingers chase after it, leaving soft trails of heat in their path.
“Next time,” He mumbles, his voice low and gravelly as he slips towards sleep, “Wear your sexy little panties.”
You tilt your head back to look up at him, hardly daring to breathe. “Next time?”
Jake blinks those pretty golden green eyes open just so he can peer sleepily down at you. Even half-asleep, he manages to bare his teeth at you in a grin; it’s infuriating how good he looks even when drowsy.
“Aw, honey,” He says, the low rumble of his voice sending a rush of heat to your belly. “You can’t think only one time was enough, can you?”
i don’t think people slut out Remy LeBeau enough. Imagine Remy with a partner who’s mutation gives them excessive energy. It’s no problem for the Gambit of course, after all energy he has plenty. You can already imagine the onslaught of innuendoes about wearing you down and training your very developed stamina.
You’re a little nervous. “Are you sure you can handle me?” You ask with your hands politely folded in front of you and he just smirks. “T’ink you should be asking if you can handle me, cher.”
Cut to now with Remy crying out as you milk out his nth orgasm with plenty of energy left. You’re delighted, clawing at the matress, so caught up in your own pleasure that you don’t notice Remy’s shaking! He squeezes your hip, his weepy cock, rubbed red and raw pistoning in and out your cunt with his his own semen serving as lube. He’s so overstimulated it hurts but he can’t stop his hips. your pussy’s too hot, too good. his eyes roll to the back of his, fuck, he swears he’s been shooting blanks for the past hour. you shake his shoulder, mumbling something he’s too fucked out to hear. His red irises flick to you.
“You okay?” You repeated, not even breaking a sweat while he’s crying and groaning. “Yes,” He groans, taking your thumb wiping the spit from his shiny lips into his mouth. “You k-keep-keep using me~!”
august meeting you for the first time, and he's immediately telling you that you are hot, just like he did to hyo during the doll festival incident (and other people he's met through the cleaners), and they're are sighing, expecting him to go crazy and ask you to be his model.
but instead he's looking you up and down, blinking behind his glasses and leaning right into your personal space. he then stands up straight, lips pursed. "...do ya like skinny weird guys? do ya like 'em enough to go on a date with one?"
