video_phone.
synopsis. you discovered your husband jake's video camera and recorded a video only you both can see.
pairing. jake sully (tsyeyk suli) × wife_omaticaya!reader
genre & warnings. fluff — reader is a mother of three. reader is joyful & fun wifey. reader is very curious, blunt, has little knowledge of the sky people. jake overusing the nickname 'baby'. cute moments - watching old videos of jake and filming each other. | smut — sex tape. voyeurism. semi-public sex. oral sex (f_receiving). jake being a tease. dirty talk. binding & doggystyle. spanking.
note. imma include my main icon beyoncé in everythingg, the act iii theories are draining mee😭 don't ask how i got this idea just by listening to the song.. i might as well introduce her to pandora- anyway enjoy this juicy fic & watch my mind put in work!! ☺️🩵
Once the morning loitered for too long, the ritual began for sanitizing the Sullies sanctuary.
No one couldn't escape it, your three little rascals especially. Polishing multiple decors, watering flowers and plants, foldaway rags. Legs were shredded from the labor which led for the endless nagging from your children to go outside finally snapped your patience, then the marui was wrapped in silence and now it was you and your husband Jake.
Chores were completed anyway, and at last you could rest your swollen feet, the ache of the day finally settling into something bearable. Until you saw the unfinished banana fruit on top of Jake's kit you knew your youngest son was eating. And you knew you told him to dispose the waste. More than twice.
"Ta'txo..." You clenched your jaw so tightly, cursing mentally before disposing it eventually.
It gave you the opportunity to look inside Jake's kit to see if anything else needed care, yet this odd machine caught your naive eye.
It was half-buried in dust and debris, but the dust was only your translation for the dull particulate shimmer around it. Its surface didn't reflect the world back to you the way natural things do. Instead, it absorbed patterns of light like it was swallowing them.
What you perceived was a layered stillness, an artificial focus-point that feels too deliberate to be part of the environment, a constructed gaze. It stored you, held the shape of your environment including your face of confusion and refused to release it.
Mated with a sky person was a challenge especially discovering new metals every day. You took the device in your palm before asking Jake, "My love, what is this?"
His ears perked up at your voice as he turned from polishing his guns. His eyes widened slightly when he saw what you were holding, his old video camera, its black plastic casing dulled by years of neglect.
He wiped his hands on his loincloth and crossed the room in a few strides, reaching out to take it with gentle reverence. The weight of it in his palms felt familiar yet foreign, like holding a relic from another lifetime.
"Oh, this?" He chuckled softly, thumb brushing over the lens cap. "It's a video camera. From my old life." His voice dipped, softening with nostalgia. "Humans used these to record moving images and capture memories."
Your eyes flickered with intrigue as you leaned closer. Your slender fingers hovered near the 'video camera' but didn’t touch, you were hesitant to mess up a forgettable past, but fascinated to know more.
He then pressed a button on the side, and the screen flickered to life — a grainy, faded image of jungle foliage, shaky from his demon-blooded hands. You gasped softly in delight.
"That was from my first days here," he murmured, scrolling through clips — Neytiri teaching him to hunt, Tsu'tey’s scowling face, the Omatikaya gathered under the Tree of Voices.
Then it shifted to the footage of younger Jake, human-Jake, grinning into the lens before the screen went dark.
"You were different," You said softly, in awe.
"Yeah," Jake admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. "That was before Eywa gave me this body. Before I became one of you."
This was just the beginning of your acknowledgement on this piece of plastic, it felt like sin to understand more about its concept.
"Show me more." You wished in such an eager tone that made Jake laughed, "You wanna see more?"
Your tail curled around his leg before your fangs glinting as you grinned. "I want to see you." That was all the invitation he needed.
Time continued until the early afternoon, you sat cross-legged on the woven mats as the camera was between you both. Jake flicked through more videos, sometimes pausing to explain something. Telling you how he felt about you, how he learned to ride on his Ikran for the first time. He showed you moments of laughter, moments of pain, all captured in pixels and flashes of light.
Through it all, you listened, your gaze rapt and your questions endless. You took a hold of the camera once again, examining this small object that could keep memories forever, it was like a time machine, you didn't know if this was a blessing or curse from Great Mother but you knew you will keep this thing close to you like your songcord, unless you took good care of it.
"Can it take me?" You switched your gaze to Jake in wonder.
"Yeah, it can." He scooted closer, "Want me to show you?" Immediately you passed the camera over and leaned towards him, your expression was a blend of excitement and curiosity.
As Jake fiddled with the buttons, his heart fluttered unexpectedly. He angled the viewfinder to frame your surreal face, his thumb hovering over the record button. "Go ahead and chat, baby." he commanded softly, his voice barely a whisper.
Your eyes sparkled with anticipation. Jake looked through the viewfinder, a strange feeling curling within him. He'd filmed friends and family, landscapes and wildlife, but never like this. You were the one that stood out most, now he wasn't gonna let this camera go.
"Okay," You started by standing up and balancing allure with clumsy charm to make Jake snicker. "Hello. I'm ___. I'm Toruk Makto's wife. I love my babies-
Jake chuckled, the camera shaking slightly as he tried to hold back a smile. "You're boring me out," he mumbled. "Try again, but... less dramatic this time."
You feigned offense, "Dramatic? I am simply introducing myself to your magic human-box," You retorted.
"It's called a camera, baby. Not a magic human-box." His thumb hovered over the record button again, this time with an amused but expectant look. "And less posing. Just be natural."
You scoffed, "What should I say? 'Hi, I'm ___. Goodbye'." Plainly sarcastic.
Jake rolled his eyes, a smirk playing on his lips. "You realize you're supposed to say a bit more than that, right?"
"Like what?" You shrugged.
He leaned back, one ankle crossing the other, his gaze drifting to the camera's screen. You in focus: your sharp features, playful gleam in your eyes and your slight pout. The sight made his heart skip a beat.
"I don't know," he said with an exaggerated sigh. "How about something more personal?"
He was stalling now, and he knew it. But he wanted to capture more than just your physical appearance. He wanted to capture this moment, he wanted more.
"Fine," You huffed dramatically, tossing your braids over one shoulder but then you softened, exhaling through your nose. Your gaze flicked to the camera, then past it, to Jake's face. Something unguarded flickered across your expression.
"Okay," You started. "I’m ___." A short pause. "I rode with Toruk Makto. I laugh when my children pretend to be warriors. Mmmh-" You took a moment to add another fact, "I chose you. Every day. Even when you forget where you put your spear."
"You forgot one thing," He murmured.
You tilted your head in wonder. "Hmm?"
"That you're the most stunning creature on this whole damn moon."
The camera jostled, capturing the blur of your movement, the sound of your shared laughter. "You like what you see? That's why you are videoing me?" You teased slightest.
"Damn right I do," Jake admitted shamelessly, zooming in slightly just to watch the way your purple blush darkened under his attention. "You’re gonna make this whole recording about yourself, huh?"
You smirked, striking another exaggerated pose, one hand on your hip and the other dramatically tossed over your forehead like some human soap opera character Jake must have accidentally described to you once. "Of course. Isn’t that the point of your magic human-box?"
Jake snorted. "It’s called narcissism, sweetheart."
As the moment unfolded, you slowed down, choosing to savor it with quiet attention. This magic human-box could take reality and keep it forever — to view it as memories, watch moments over and over again...
You had to ask.
"Can it show how we make love?"
Jake nearly dropped the camera, "Huh?"
Your gaze was unflinching, you were completely serious.
Jake took a deep breath, trying to regain some semblance of composure. "You wanna do that on camera, baby?" His voice cracked slightly on the last word, his throat suddenly dry.
"Yes. I want to see you. If I feel good, it must look good to watch over and over again." You smiled warmly, almost innocently, even as the request carried a risqué edge.
"You realize that's a very private thing, right?" He informed.
"Yes." You nodded in agreement as you swayed your way to Jake before sitting close, your hands resting on his chest. "It's your camera afterall. Your eyes only."
Your sweet, luring tone made him swallowed hard, the heat of your touch and closeness made his head spin even more than your words. He'd be a fool to deny you anything.
Jake chuckled before biting his lip at the thought, some quiet voice that had been whispering in the back of his mind now was speaking loud and clear. Shit, why not...?
He exhaled, slow and deliberate, before positioning the camera flat on the floor as he turned it toward you both, the lens capturing the tangled closeness.
"It’s not just my camera," he murmured, voice thick. "It’s ours now."
Jake took hold of your neck to bring you close for a steady kiss, the camera continued to record as your bodies moved against each other, the touches and kisses a blur of passion and desire. The sounds of your heavy breaths and the sound of your lips meeting again and again, the lens captured every shift.
He needed to be closer, his large hands guided your hips to straddle his lap. You pushed his dreads gently that once rested on his shoulders to rest your arms there, his beefy arms were a cage around your waist to balance you.
It was something that excited you about the camera capturing this moment, you could watch it anytime you wanted, facing the camera too, seeing how your husband kissed and touched you.
You caught in the heat of the moment, he captured your chin, tilting your face upwards and to face him. "Look at me." You obeyed instantly. You saw the raw desire burning within you both, the possessive edge that always made your heart skip a beat. You two have been together like this countless times, but this was diverse.
"I'm looking." You gasped softly.
"Good." He leaned in, voice a growl against your mouth:
"Now let’s give the camera something real to remember."
A sudden clash of lips, a battle of tongues, a storm of need. He didn't hold back, his body pressing into yours, his hands roaming freely, knowing exactly where to touch to make you shudder and feel satisfied.
The camera caught it all: the way his hands traced the curve of your hip, the way your body responded instinctively to his, the sounds of the mingled breaths. He broke the kiss, but only to trail his mouth down your neck. You gasped for air, a low moan escaping your lips, and the sound echoed in the small space, picked up by the camera's microphone.
He lifted his head then, his gaze locking with yours. "You like this, sweetheart? Like being watched, huh?" His hand slid down your leg, fingers tracing the inside of your thigh that made you inhaled sharply, a shudder running through you at the question.
"I love it..." You soughed.
"Yeah?" His voice was so dark with a teasing rumble. His hand moved higher, closer to hid under your loincloth for his fingers to be warm by your lower lips. He was drawing this out, making you wait, and the camera was catching every second.
You hated him for his bothering habit yet loved him for it at the same time. But in that moment, there was only one answer you could give. "Yes," you repeated.
"Good girl." His own gaze was hooded, the hunger in them intensifying. He was enjoying this far too much — the power, the control and the knowledge that he could bring you to the edge and back again, all caught on his magic human-box.
His hand moved higher, his touch both torturous and pleasurable, drawing closer to your center. The camera caught it all: your ragged breath, the way your hips lifted slightly, desperate for more. Yet he held you there, teetering on the brink, until you were trembling with need.
Your back arched slightly, and he watched in fascination as the camera captured every tiny reaction: the way your lips parted on another soft gasp, how your tail lashed against his leg in restless anticipation. He increased the pressure slightly, his fingers moving with practiced ease, he knew exactly where to touch, how much friction to give.
Your breath came in shallow pants now, and Jake could feel the tension coiling in your body like a spring about to snap. "Lick. Lick me, Jake." Your words stumbled out in broken pieces, unfamiliar and unshaped, and he couldn’t help the quiet fascination that flickered in his gaze.
Without hesitation, he lowered himself between your legs, still kneeling on the woven mats and hooked his fingers into the waistband of your loincloth. He made sure both of you were seen, you especially, sitting up by your elbows as you eyed him below.
With one smooth motion, he slid it down just enough to expose your damp lower lips. The camera remained pointed in your direction from its spot beside you as Jake leaned in and pressed a slow kiss on your slit with gentle pressure before dragging his tongue upward in one long stroke.
There was no reason to rush, he took his time tasting you with intentionally, savoring the salt, tangy savour of your deep universe. His tongue moved with skill honed by years of loving you like this, knowing when to tease and when to press down hard enough for a real reaction.
And he was killing it, just by the judge of you bringing your hips closer and lewd sounds escaping your lips.
Your eyes were challenging the camera, knowing and seeing yourself being fucked so well. Somehow with this camera made you feel devastatingly sexy, you knew your worth. How your husband glanced up at you through half-lidded eyes, smirking by the fact of your clear enjoyment before lowering his lips again to really get to work this time.
Licks and flicks. Swirls and curls. It was an entire messy devotion.
He was relentless, alternating between deep thrusts of his tongue and quick flicks over your clit, the piercing adding textured friction that had you seeing rubbish.
"Pussy still taste so sweet, baby." Your entire body jolted at the filthy praise. It caused your hips bucking up against his mouth involuntarily. That human word, that rough tone — Jake knew exactly what it did to you.
You cutted yourself off by the sudden detachment from Jake's lips, sitting up to get himself undone. Garbs hit the floor in a hurry from Jake’s loincloth falling to you shrugging off your feathered top with impatient hands.
He pulled you against him by your puny waist and kissed you once more, it was deep and filthy now that there were no barriers left between you both. Tongues tangled, naked chests pressed together, every point of contact burned like wildfire under Eywa's glow outside.
Your bodies slotted together perfectly, now skin on skin. The camera kept rolling from its spot on the mats — capturing Jake's hungry gaze as it traveled over your bare, lean figure: those sharp collarbones, the swell of your breasts, all his to devour and worship.
His hands mapped every inch of you: your back, the dip of your spine, the curve of your ass before he positioned himself behind you. You twisted to kiss him over your shoulder, messy and open-mouthed while Jake's other hand slid around to cup one of your breasts, his thumb brushing over your excited nipple.
He lined himself up, teasing you both with that slow, torturous drag of his cock against your slick heat. Every sweep sent sparks through him; he was painfully hard, aching to be inside you but savoring this moment first. Watching your back arch under the sensation, he exhaled sharply through his nose at the grasp of his dreads by you.
You gasped sharply as the first inch of him breached you, stretching you perfectly. Your fingers tightened in his dreads, grounding yourself as you adjusted to the feeling.
But he didn't move yet beyond that initial press, letting you both breathe through it. The intimacy of this moment was so strong and intense. The lens traced how your thighs trembled slightly where they framed his hips as he pressed a kiss to the side of your neck, he composed despite how badly he wanted to thrust in deep at that moment.
At last, he pushed in completely. A slow, deep slide that had your breath so brittle and his own jaw clenching at the overwhelming sensation of being you. His hips experimentally, testing how it felt to move together after all this buildup. The movement was slow at first, he withdrew just slightly before pushing back in, a shallow roll of his hips that made you whimper.
It felt bizarre how good it was, how your body welcomed him, the heat and tightness around him. Jake bit his lip to stifle a groan, focusing on keeping the pace steady despite every instinct screaming to take. He kissed your shoulder blade and then traced bites down your spine as your bodies began finding rhythm: soft pulls and gentle thrusts that built the tension.
The footage preserved the way Jake's hands slid up your sides as he kissed your shoulder, how your back arched into him with each slow thrust. The breathing was synced: deep inhales when you both stilled and soft exhales on the outstrokes.
But constantly, you were tightening around him, that was your signal for much solidity and his hips finally answered by pushing in deeper with a little more force this time, a test run for what came next.
With a low groan, he gripped your hips and began moving in earnest, deeper thrusts now, each one punctuated by the slap of skin against skin. The shot centered on the bounce of your body with every drive forward, his meaty biceps flexing as he held you steady for his rhythm and the connection from between your legs as his full sack kissed your clit repeatedly.
The marui was packed with the sounds of passion: panting breaths, whispered moans, the rhythmic slap of bare skin. His hips snapped faster, his pace turning urgent and chasing that sweet friction, that perfect angle where you would gasp and clench around him.
He could feel it building: the coil in his stomach tightening with every thrust; the heat pooling low in his gut. His mouth found your ear to growl: "Fuck, you feel so good baby." You whimpered at the praise, your nails digged lightly into his forearm.
Suddenly, Jake shifted quickly, guiding you onto your hands and knees before positioning himself behind you. The camera was still dutifully rolling and capturing the smooth transition, your back arching gracefully as you braced on all fours with his hand running down the curve of your spine to give a soft squeeze of your ass, admiring how perfectly your bodies fit like this.
Once again, his cock aligned with your entrance, but from this animalistic angle, the view was even more intense than before.
Jake exhaled sharply as he sank fully into you from behind, the new angle sending a fresh wave of sensation through you both.
It made you drop your forehead to the mats, a soft moan escaping your lips as you adjusted to the different depth. Jake gave you a second before his hands found purchase on either side of yours and he began moving again.
This time, each thrust was deeper, much deeper, hitting places inside you that made your vision explode behind your closed eyelids.
He set a punishing rhythm, each snap of his hips driving him deeper, harder. The camera swallowed the nasty chaos whole of your braids swayed with every thrust, your fingers twisted into the woven mats beneath you, his biceps bulging as he braced himself above you.
The slap of your skin echoed through the marui, wet and loud yet neither cared who might hear. The intensity between you both peaked and every movement, every breath synced in perfect harmony. His penetration became more erratic, his control fraying as pleasure coiled tighter and tighter in his gut.
You were just as far gone, from moans to desperate little cries with each deep stroke, you gazed at the camera, watching the hypnotic sway of your ass with every one of Jake's pounds that eventually made you earn a light smack. Your expression were glazed-over, equally mesmerized and aroused by the sight.
And he noticed where your were looking and smirked — oh yeah, this was hot for both of you. So he deliberately slowed his movements for a second, making each stroke longer, more exaggerated, showing off the connection like a performance just for the camera and for each other.
It was filthy. It was beautiful. And you were loving every second of being recorded like this.
Jake snapped his hips faster again to reach the sweet friction that would tip you over the edge soon. His hands slid up to grip your waist tighter, holding you steady as he drove into you relentlessly.
The camera shook slightly from the force of the intense movements now, the passion was too strong to stay perfectly still…
"I'm feeling it!" You warned, it was your explanation to say you were close to your release.
"Fuck, me too," he rasped, his own release barreling toward him like a runaway banshee. He adjusted slightly, angling his hips to hit your sensitive spot, his pounding turned erratic now; there was no rhythm left, completely pure need.
A cry tore from your throat as your orgasm ripped through you, wave after wave of white-hot pleasure. Your muscles clenched around Jake in rhythmic pulses, dragging a ragged moan out of him as he felt it too. That was all it took.
He followed right after, his hips stuttering before he buried himself deep inside you with his warm release.
Still, the camera was rolling. You managed to giggle through your heavy pants, gazing at the camera once again. "Oh that was fun, my love."
Jake laughed breathlessly against your skin, his lips curling into a lazy smile. "Fun is an understatement, baby." he murmured, pressing one last kiss to the curve of your shoulder before reaching for the camera.
He finally stopped recording, pressing a button on the side to pause it and set it aside gently. Then he rolled onto his back, pulling you with him so you rested half on top of him as your limbs intertwined.
"Best video ever," Jake declared smugly… and then yawned like a man who’d just been thoroughly loved.
