Jake sully x na'vi reader
random writings
...
You were strict. Everyone knew it. The na’vi huntress with the sharp tongue and sharper aim. Grace had paired you with him for “cultural integration,” which mostly meant you spent half your time correcting his stance, his grip, his everything. He thought it was hilarious. You thought he was a walking disaster.
“Again,” you snapped, not even looking at him as you adjusted the string on your bow. Your voice cut through the air like a blade. “You step like a palulukan with three broken legs. Silent. Or you eat nothing tonight.”
Jake chuckled low, pushing off the root. “Come on, I’m getting better. Yesterday I only scared off one hexapede.”
“You scared off the entire herd,” you
corrected, finally turning those golden eyes on him. Strict. Unimpressed. “And nearly got yourself trampled. Delusional sky person.”
He raised his hands in mock surrender, tail flicking behind him. “Hey, I’m a slow learner. Give me a break, teach.”
You didn’t smile. You rarely did with him. Cute, maybe, that’s how he’d always filed you away in his head. Serious, yeah. Good with a bow. Kind of adorable when you got all bossy. But sexy? Nah. Not his type. Too uptight. Too… na’vi in that rigid, rules-are-rules way.
Until tonight.
The hunting party had split off earlier, leaving just the two of you tracking a lone Sturmbeest through the undergrowth. Jake was supposed to observe. Stay quiet. Learn. Instead, he’d stepped on a dry branch, and the prey bolted before you could loose your arrow.
You whirled on him so fast he barely registered it.
In one fluid motion, your hand shot out, fingers wrapping firmly around his kuru, You yanked hard, pulling him forward and off-balance until his face was leaning down, inches from yours.
The sudden tug sent a jolt straight through his spine, hot and electric, connecting straight to every nerve ending in his body. His eyes widened. his hand reached back to his hair over yours.
“You idiot,” you snarled, lips pulled back to show sharp canines, voice low and furious. “That was a clean shot. My shot. And you—” Your grip tightened, the sensitive braid shifting against his skin in a way that made his breath hitch. “—ruined it with your clumsy sky person feet.”
Jake’s mouth opened, but nothing clever came out for once. He could feel the heat of your body, the way your chest rose and fell with barely contained anger. Your face was so close he could see the faint bioluminescent freckles across your cheeks, smell your sweat, feel your breath, and witness the gold flecks in your eyes burning with irritation.
For the first time, he noticed how your ears were pinned flat, how your tail lashed behind you like a whip. How strong your grip was. How… commanding.
You released his kuru with a sound, shoving him back a step. Then you turned and stalked off into the ferns without another word, bow still in hand.
And Jake just stood there, stunned, heart hammering against his ribs like he’d run a marathon.
His gaze dropped to sway of your hips as you moved. The way the loincloth shifted against your skin, the subtle roll of muscle in your thighs with each stride. The long line of your back, the way your queue swayed gently between your shoulder blades.
Damn.
Ain’t she hot?
The thought slammed into him uninvited. His tail flicked hard once, twice. Heat crawled up his neck, pooling low in his gut. He’d never looked at you like that before. You were the strict one. The one who barked orders and rolled her eyes at his jokes. Cute, sure. Annoying, definitely.
He swallowed, suddenly way too aware of his own body, the way his skin felt too tight, the low thrum of arousal he hadn’t expected.
He adjusted his loincloth once.
Jake tilted his head, trying to laugh it off, but the sound came out rough. “Shit… okay. Noted.”
He followed after you at a distance, eyes glued to the way you moved through the jungle like you belonged to it. Every step you took made that new awareness worse. The curve of your waist. The strength in your shoulders. The absolute confidence in how you carried yourself.
By the time he caught up near a cluster of glowing fan plants, the tension was thick enough to choke on. You were crouched, checking tracks, ignoring him completely. Jake stopped a few feet away, shifting his weight, suddenly unsure where to put his hands.
“What? You gonna apologize?” you asked without looking up, voice still edged with that cold anger.
He rubbed the back of his neck, right where you’d grabbed him. The skin there still tingled. “Yeah, about that… I didn’t mean to—”
“Didn’t mean to,” you echoed, standing slowly. You turned to face him, arms crossed under your chest in a way that pulled his attention for half a second too long. “You never mean to. Yet here we are.”
Jake’s grin tried to make a comeback, but it felt crooked. “Hey, I’m trying. Cut me some slack. You’re just… really good at this. Distracting, even.”
Jake’s gaze flicked down to your mouth for a split second before he forced it back up.
His body was hyper-aware now, the way your breasts rose with each breath, the subtle shift of your hips, the way your ears had perked just slightly at his words.
Your ears twitched. You narrowed your eyes, studying him like he was a particularly stupid hexapede.
“Distracting.”
Jake watched you walk away again, that sway even more pronounced now that he was looking. His hands flexed at his sides. Heat coiled low in his belly, persistent and undeniable.
Yeah. She was hot.
The strict huntress had just ruined his ability to see her as anything less than devastating.
He ran a hand through his braids, exhaling sharply.
“Fuck me,” he muttered under his breath, grinning despite the ache. “This is gonna be interesting.”