summary: In which, on your wedding night, you decide to forget the whispers from your family and embrace the Baratheon ways. Or, you wear the antler helm . . .
warnings: p in v. use of ‘doe,’ ‘dragon,’ and ‘wife,’ f rec. reader has the targaryen blonde hair. they lowk fight for dominance the whole time so…switch city!! yay!!
word count: 1473
“Don’t.”
Your single word froze Lyonel in his buzzed state. He stared amusedly at you for a moment, his antler crown held barely in his large hands, one half already set on the bedside table.
“Give them to me.” You finally continued, sporting a grin that almost matched his. Your spoiled Targaryen tone spilled through in the order. “I have just married a stag, have I not? Became one, even?” You took slow steps toward the towering man. His smile grew with each one until you slid the helm from his hands. “I feel it is only right I act as one as well, don't you? For at least one night?”
“What a wonderful mind you have, dear wife.” He followed the words by pressing a chaste kiss to your head. A warm feeling buzzed in your chest at his words, the possessive lilt buried beneath the sweetness.
His hands found yours and guided the heavy helm atop your head. It was big and heavy and felt awkward on you, but you smiled all the while. Beaming up at the Baratheon your brother Aerion had spent days cursing. The one he had tried to convince you to poison or murder or-
“You will make a fine doe, indeed, dragon.” Hands landed on either of your cheeks, smushing your cheeks gently together and silencing the swarm of thoughts within you. “Fairest in all the seven kingdoms.” He pulled down and your mouth gaped obediently until his lips pressed to yours. “Do you wish to ride your stag, wife?”
“I wish for nothing else.”
Lyonel grinned widely at your words, but still, he stayed there, holding your face for moments more. “There is no rush for consummation. I don't care what your or my family may say.” He captured your gaze with his, and you fought the growing urge to look away. “Are you completely sure, doe?”
“Lyonel Baratheon,” You whispered, slowly rising onto the tips of your toes. “I want nothing more in these seven kingdoms than to ride your cock until the next sun rises.”
And with that, your hands shoved roughly against his chest. He landed back on the bed with an ‘oomph,’ hair falling crazily around his face. He raised to his elbows just in time to watch you crawl onto his lap, your flowing, platinum hair creating a curtain beneath the helm.
Lyonel chuckled at the sight and swiped the hair away to reveal your striking eyes staring right back. “The most ferocious doe.” His fingers lingered a moment too long at your face and you turned ever so slightly to catch his thumb between your teeth. “I am so mortally wounded. Bleeding out. Oh, no!” He fell dramatically back on the bed, eyes squeezing shut, hand over his forehead. “I believe my only savior may be a pretty Targaryen…With the sassiest of attitudes and the angriest eyes.”
“Oh, my poor stag.” You cooed playfully, leaning down to kiss along his jaw. “Pretty, sassy, and angry Targaryen?” A soft hum escaped you and the man beneath you could already tell you were up to no good. “Allow me to go grab my father.” You shifted as if to move and he had you pinned in an instant, trapped beneath his lumbering body.
“I’ll have to add cruel to the list, dragon.” His breath was hot against your throat.
You wriggled when his beard scratched at the soft skin and the name ‘Aerion’ almost left your pretty lips. That one may have truly sent him over the edge.
“Cruel, and yet you married me.” You challenged, even as his lips tried to distract you at your collarbone. “A-And, placed your helm upon my head.”
Lyonel didn't respond for a moment, too distracted by the faint smell of your perfume and the mixed taste of your sweat and the wine that had escaped your glass.
Finally, he spoke. “Because, you’re my cruel dragon.” He freed himself from his pants and pulled at your dress. You allowed him, eyes shutting despite your desperate need to see him. “Wearing my helm.” His hands tugged and ripped and destroyed the shaping layers beneath. “Owning my name. Taking it as your own.” He gave no warning before a finger pushed gently into your cunt. You took it with a smile on your face, features scrunching in the most delicious way as he watched. “About to take my cock in your sweet, fiesty, cu-“
The Baratheon Lord found himself back on his ass in an instant, back pressed firmly into the mattress. Your hands were wrapped tightly around his shoulders, holding him there as he stared. Mouth agape. His hands raised above his head. Eyes staring in what looked like awe.
It was a sight you wanted to see for the rest of your life. One you may, now that you were out of your family’s grasp.
You reached up to adjust the helm, which had become lopsided in the struggle. “I’m the stag tonight, husband. Don’t you remember?” He could only nod in response, any joke or tease he had prepared left his mind. You looked almost ethereal like this. “I’m going to take the great stag’s cock. Ride it like I own it. Like, I own you.” You straightened above him as your hand wrapped warmly around his cock, lining him up against your entrance. He shivered at the contact. “Because, I do, Lyonel.”
A collective moan escaped both of you as soon as he slid into your cunt. Your gummy walls welcomed him in, smothering him even, in the mix of heat and excitement.
It was almost sickening how dumb he went. The Baratheon Lord, believed to be strong, to laugh in the face of danger, and even challenging the Targaryens when he got the chance, was so pliant beneath you. He let you rock gently against him, taking only the smallest of movements to keep him balls deep inside your greedy cunt. Soft squelches emitted from the slim space between your bodies and each grind had your clit rubbing deliciously against him.
“Yes. Yes, my beautiful doe.” Lyonel groaned, teeth clenching between his grinning lips. “You own my cock. You own me. M-My mind.” He finally collected his thoughts and his hands landed on your hips in an almost bruising hold. He didn't push or pull you, only held. Keeping you stable above him despite the blissed-out expression spreading across your features. “I want nothing more in life than you. Fuck anybody that has something to say about us.” Your hips picked up speed with each of his hissed words until the helm was struggling to stay atop your head. “All I will ever need is my doe. My dragon. My wife.”
Finally, his eyes found the helm, bouncing atop your head with each bounce of your hips. Your hands were still pressed firmly to his shoulders, but it wasn't a struggle for him to flip you onto your back once more. He needed to be closer. Deeper. Needed his cock to reach depths that would cement his place in your history. In your body. Ruin you for anyone you may have after him.
It was a sick, mean thought to have, but it drove his hips faster. Bullying himself into your cunt. Rutting just right to grind over your clit too. The mix of sensations had your gummy walls tightening around him, pulling him impossibly deeper inside your heat.
Your orgasm came quickly, rushing over your body in waves before you could prepare. His hands lifted from your hips to the antlers of the helm, using the hold to slam your bodies together.
“You’re taking it so well, dear wife,” Lyonel growled in between thrusts. His own orgasm was approaching, his cock twitching deep inside you. “You were made to take my cock.”
“Yes!” You hissed, hands gripping onto his forearms as the overstimulation began to set in, legs twitching and curling desperately on the furs. “F-Fuck…Please, Lyonel.”
The lord only grunted in response. His release was too close to even speak. He was focused on you. Every reaction you gave to his relentless pounding. The pinch of your face, the struggle of your legs to stay still, and even the tiniest twitch of your lips.
“T-Take it. Take it.” His voice rose to nearly a shout when he finally came, cock buried deep inside your cunt as your walls seemed to pulse, milking him of all he gave. “Oh, sweet dragon. Dear wife. Mine. Say you’re mine.”
You gave him a fucked out stare from beneath the edge of the helm, mouth agape and soft pants falling from your lips. You glared when he pulled the helm from your head and further messed your already crazy hair.
summary: In which, Daeron wakes you with his need and you give him much more than he asked for. Or, you overstimulate your needy husband.
warnings: slight somno. dry humping. handjob. overstim, m rec. degradation, m rec.
word count: 1538
“Not even-“ hiccup, “that drunk.”
The final words spoken by the very drunk man before he collapsed onto you. You groaned from beneath him, trapped between his chest and the wooden floor of your chambers below.
“Not drunk.” You mocked in annoyance and struggled as quietly as you could to remove the snoring man from atop you. “Daeron. Are you being serious?” You whispered, now kneeling beside him. “The bed is right there.” He was curled on the floor, looking like a sleeping babe, unworried by your hushed voice. “My idiot husband.” The words came out in song before you sprang up and started toward the bed.
You gave him one last glance from the bed before letting yourself fall into sleep, finding him clutching tightly onto the blanket you had thrown over him. It warmed your heart, even as the annoyance of the drunk man stormed inside of you.
↯
Daeron awoke at somepoint in the night. He stood and kept the blanket wrapped tightly around him as he made his way to the bed. The alcohol’s effect had lessened, but now, as he kneeled beside your slumbering frame, a new feeling erupted from his groin. A warm, needy feeling. One he desperately needed help to satiate.
His eyes ran slowly over you. Taking in how different you looked so relaxed…When you weren't berating or chasing after him. The usual pinch of your eyebrows was gone. Your back curved so smoothly under his hand when he glided it over, as opposed to the near-perfect posture you held everywhere else.
Daeron could feel the tent forming in his pants at the thought. You, feeling so safe to let go around him. Sleeping so comfortably, knowing subconsciously he would never let harm come to you.
A quiet whimper escaped his pursed lips as he settled behind you. His hands coasted gently up your back and then down the ruffles of your nightgown. He leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss to your shoulder, eyes following the rise and fall of them as soft snores fell from your mouth.
Daeron couldn’t help himself any longer. He pressed closer, his body going flush against your backside. Hips grinding slowly forward. Quiet, barely audible ruffles of his clothes filled the room. His hard cock pressed so perfectly against your ass with each movement.
It was filthy and disgusting and he knew that. He also knew you would tell him exactly that when you eventually woke to find him, humping pathetically on your ass like a bitch in heat.
The thought excited him further and his hips picked up speed, now gently pushing you forward as he moved. He cursed quietly and tried to soften, but the damage had already been dealt.
You shifted slowly, soft hums coming from your throat. You seemed unaware...for now. Head slowly lifted from your pillow and his breath hitched suddenly.
Then, you noticed him. Even in your tired state, you could feel the pressure on your back. The warmth of your husband's body pressed so close. You were happy he had found his own way into bed, shifting back to cuddle closer…Until, you felt the familiar pressure of something else, hard and insistent on the plush of your ass.
You almost let him continue. Almost. Then, you remembered how he had inconvenienced you only hours before. First, getting drunk for all to see, and second, leaving you to sleep in a cold, lonely bed.
Instead of letting him hump against you, you turn around to face him despite his whispered protests. “My idiot husband.” Your words from earlier are repeated as you push him back.
Before he can even fully comprehend it, your leg is thrown over his thighs and you're straddling them. He let it happen, arms falling limp by his head as soon as your hand had shoved him away.
“You dragged me to that stupid feast.” Your voice leaves no room for a response. You expect him to listen, and listen he does. “Drank until you could barely speak in front of our families.” His eyes stay glued to yours, even when your hand darts for the string of his pants. “Expecting me to entertain them alone.” He jerks up when his cock is pulled quickly from the cloths. “And, leaving me to fall asleep alone? Only for you to wake me in the middle of the night expecting a fuck?”
His legs stiffen as your hand glides roughly over him. The only thing slicking his cock is the beads of precum escaping his aching cock.
“I-I’m sorry.”
You hum approvingly at the words before leaning down to spit on your hand. His legs relax slightly beneath you at the soothing of your brief kindness. He knew he wouldn't see it again until much, much later, when you were sure he understood the inconvenience he had caused…or, until you had thoroughly milked him of all he had. That's how it always ended when he got reckless. Your guiding hands would be there, ready to fuck him back into shape.
“You wanted to cum that bad, my prince?” Your hand squeezed and he swore he saw stars, the feeling in his groin heating to unimaginable heights. “Cum.” You hissed, fist slamming up and down on his cock. You could feel the twitching beginning at the base. He was holding back. “Now, Daeron. Cum now, or I’ll stop.”
The threat sent him over the edge. His eyes followed the splatter of his cum across the stomach of your nightgown. It was a pretty sight. Almost as pretty as you perched so angrily on his thighs.
“Thank you,” Daeron whispered breathily. “Ah…Thank you so much, my pretty wife.”
You squinted as he panted beneath you. “Don't try and sweet-talk your way out of this, my prince.” He already looked spent. Hair still crazed from earlier and his eyes drooped dangerously low.
“I wouldn’t even dream of it.” He whispered gently. One of his hands dared to move, slowly curling over your own. “I’ll take everything you deem fit for me.”
A spark lit in your eyes at his words. “Everything?” He only nodded, not knowing the mess he would soon find himself in. “Those are dangerous words, sweet boy. That's what you want though, isn’t it?” You paused after. Allowing him one last chance to take back his words.
“Yes.” His answer was given with no hesitation. Not a single morsel of regret, even when your hand finally resumed its attack on his cock.
↯
“You’re fuckin’ filthy.” The words spilled from your mouth, followed quickly by what felt like his tenth orgasm. “See? Can't even help yourself.”
Daeron nodded helplessly. “Yes, I am. So filthy for you, wife. Only you. Always you.” Your eyes watched the pathetic drops spill from the head of his cock. “Please.” He was nearly running dry, your hands having milked almost everything from him.
Cum, tears, spit…All he could do now was whine and writhe beneath you.
“Please, what?” You cooed, hand continuing to pump lazily as you leaned to press your chest to his. “Come on, you're at least strong enough to speak aren’t you? Or, have I overestimated my prince?”
“No! No, no…I-I can. I only…” Daeron’s breath hitched in his throat when you pinched the tip of his silky cock. He gave up on the explanation and instead focused on how closely you watched him. “Please, I can’t-” Your eyes moved so carefully over him compared to your hands. Noting every shift in his body and face. The twinge of his lip when you slowed. The pinch in his eyebrows as he pleaded with you. “Feels too good.”
You grinned when the words finally left him. “Too good? You poor thing…” The friction of your hand was almost beginning to sting, but that only excited him more. “Give me just one more, sweet prince, and I’ll let your poor cock rest as long as you wish.”
“Really?”
“Really.” You hummed, pressing kisses to the edge of his jaw. “Do you think you can do that, filthy boy? Make one more mess for me?”
Your words soothed the growing sting, coaxing quiet cries from his throat as he came impossibly closer to the edge of release.
“I can. I can…” He mewled, head bobbing weakly with each slide of your hand. “J-Just one more…” Your lips pressed to his just once before latching onto his neck.
“Just one more.” You cooed gently as you finally felt his final release wash over him.
You saw it more in his face and body than in his cock, which only dribbled out a few pathetic drops of cum.
You moved to kneel between his legs and glided your tongue up the bottom of his cock, collecting it in your mouth. He jolted at the sensation before finally going limp on the blankets. You smiled at the sight, satisfied by his exhaustion. You crawled up his body until you could press a final kiss to his forehead.
“Sleep or bath, my sweet prince?”
The question was followed by nearly a minute of silence before Daeron’s meek response was whispered into the room.
“my idiot husband” ➤ In which, Daeron wakes you with his need and you give him much more than he asked for. Or, you overstimulate your needy husband . . .
LYONEL BARATHEON
“sweet dragon” ➤ In which, on your wedding night, you decide to forget the whispers from your family and embrace the Baratheon ways. Or, you wear the antler helm . . .
“thrill of the hunt” ➤ In which, you and Lyonel become bored while on a hunt. Or, the stag hunts his dragon . . .
“” ➤ In which, Lyonel takes care of his poor wife after a particularly rough night. Or, you receive the best princess treatment . . .
summary: Bob and you spend your first night in your new apartment . . .
warnings: oral (f receiving). dry humping. maybe too much use of the word ‘baby.’
word count: 2007
“This mirror is massive.”
Bob’s voice echoed across the nearly empty apartment. Every room was bare of furniture. The only signs of the place being habitable were the oven and fridge whirring away in the kitchen.
You gave your celebratory cookies one last glance before shuffling away, toward the bathroom.
Bob was stood by the door, eyes finding yours in the mirror when you entered. “I mean, I knew it was big from the pictures, but…” He laughed softly and you could see the boyish grin spreading his sweet lips, waiting for you to share his surprise.
You giggled at his awe and let your eyes move over the space. The mirror was a bit big. It didn’t have a frame or border like mirrors usually had, but went all the way to the walls on either side of the counter. It made the sink seem more separated from the rest of the bathroom.
“I like it.” You hummed, moving forward to lean on the counter. Your hands wrapped easily around the cold, gray marble and he watched you get comfortable against it. He shifted too, straightening so he could see almost all of you in the reflection.
“I-I wasn’t complaining. Just…noting.” He spoke quickly, eyes jumping over your body as you arched just the slightest bit. “I think I like it too.”
Your head cocked slightly as you watched him scan you. You grinned wide when his eyes finally met yours in the glass. “Yeah? Why’s that?”
He panicked under your sharp gaze. Cheeks reddened. Hands toyed with each other. Still, his eyes never left you. “Seeing.” He choked out before forcing out what he really meant. “I mean…I can see a lot more.”
“And, do you like what you see?”
Your feet shifted on the tile floor, slowly bringing your legs further apart. Your hips pressed firmly to the stone, your ass at just the perfect height. The smile was stuck on your face the whole time you did, scanning his reaction. Mouth slightly agape. Hands curled into fists at his sides.
“Answer me, Bob.” You spoke more firmly as you rolled your hips back. His eyes traced the movement. “Do you?”
“Yes.” He finally whispered. He panted after the word left him, like it took everything in him just to get the simple answer out.
You nodded approvingly. “Yeah?” He was inching forward. Feet shuffled almost silently on the tile until he was right behind you, just an inch away from touching you. He froze there. Waiting. Eyes staring pleadingly into yours as you looked back. “Do you wanna touch, Bob?”
“Yes, please.” This response was easier. Somewhat. His hands trembled where they hovered above you. It took everything in him to not just grab and hold and fondle until you were both sick of it. “Can I? Please?”
You giggled as he spoke and his face reddened further. He hadn’t realized how needy his words would sound. The quiver in his voice didn’t help either. “How bad do you wanna touch me?”
“So bad.”
“So bad?”
“So bad, baby. Please.” His voice grew whiny. Hips rolled against nothing but air. “I need to touch you. Lookin’ so pretty like this.” You almost felt bad for him when you noticed the growing print in his jeans. “You’re glowing, baby. Just wanna make you feel as good as you look.”
You relented, your own pouty lip growing at the want in his words. “Go ahead, sweets.”
Bob was on you in an instant. “Thank you, thank you…” Pressed needily against the plush of your ass, rolling his hips forward until a groan escaped his throat. “Thank you s-so much.” His breaths came out in little pants as he rutted forward, pushing you further up on the counter. “‘M gonna make you feel so good. Gonna make it so worth it, baby.”
“So needy.” You huffed as your face grew uncomfortably close to the faucet. “All you’re going to do is break my poor marble.”
“Oh! Mm…” His hips slowed, coming to a stop after a couple gentle, almost pathetic, thrusts. “S-Sorry.” He whispered, slowly leaning over you until his chest pressed to your back. His hands slid up your arms and he peeled the curtain of hair away from your face. “Just getting you ready.” He laughed through his words, eyes shyly meeting yours.
“Just getting me ready?” You laughed too and didn’t object when his big hands slid down your shorts. “I think I am plenty rea-” He pressed his fingers against you, nestling them against the cloth of your shorts until you squirmed under him.
“See? I told you.” Lips pressed to the nape of your neck, but you were still stuck on the way he circled the cotton, somehow finding everything he needed to through the layers of cloth. “Just let me make you feel good.”
His fingers finally slid away from your heat despite the annoyed groans that followed. Instead, they found the hem of your shorts. All complaints were erased from your mind in an instant.
You raised your hips, letting him slide both layers down your legs. You shivered as the air hit your now bare ass. He quickly filled the missing warmth from your clothes, hands spreading and widening across each side. He squeezed your skin in his hands and smiled when he heard your laugh fill the space. His lips left pecks to your skin as he bent down.
Finally, he found himself right where he wanted. Face to cunt. Eyes scanning your heat. Fingers collecting your wetness, slipping slowly through your folds. He never wanted to leave, or see anything else. You were his very own world wonder. A woman seemingly made just for him.
“Bob…” You whispered breathlessly. You fought the urge to clamp your legs around his hand, deciding to instead wait for his head to lull down. “Stop teasing.” Your words left in a whine and he listened like they were an order.
A finger plunged into your sopping cunt. Your back arched at the sudden intrusion, toes curling when he added a second. “Like this?” His breath fanned over your bare skin, sending chills up your spine.
“Mhm…Exactly like that.” You let your head drop on your arm as he worked, fingers twisting and curling against your gummy walls. “So good.” You whispered against the stone. He pressed his lips to you once again, lazily nibbling and kissing the plump skin. “Feels so good, sweets. You’re so good at that.”
His fingers stopped suddenly at your praise. You almost screamed in protest. But, the sound died in your throat when his tongue slid up through your folds. Instead, a loud, almost feral moan escaped your throat.
Bob jumped a bit at that. You felt his fingers flinch on your ass before smoothing back down, soft breaths of laughter escaping his busied mouth. He lapped messily at you, the slapping and wet noises from his tongue making their way to your ears.
It was dirty. Already seasoning the new apartment with this. There was no doubt in your mind it wouldn’t stop here. Every surface in the place would be broken in by the end of the week.
The thought had your legs clenching, trapping him against your cunt. He made no complaints, only letting himself be pulled closer. Tongue finally leaving your clit to plunge into your heat. Hands gripping and groping and squeezing desperately at your ass. He was gone. Lost in the sweetness of you. The welcoming pull of your cunt on his tongue. Your strong thighs tightening around his head. He never wanted to leave.
“Taste so good.” Bob’s words sounded slurred as he spoke. “Don’t wanna leave.” He barely moved his head away to speak. That would be much too long without the taste of you consuming him. “Can feel you about to cum, baby. Please, do. I n-need to feel it.”
His words were enough to push you over the edge. His tongue somehow dove deeper as soon as he felt your walls begin to tighten. Cries rose from your throat from the overstimulation before he finally fell back. A soft ‘oomph’ left him when his back hit the tile.
Neither of you moved for what felt like minutes. You, hanging legs quivering off the counter and him, eyes closed and on the floor as he collected himself. Pulling away from your sopping cunt took everything in him. And, it took everything in you to not turn around and ride him until the two of you couldn’t go anymore.
It seemed Bob’s need for more was higher as he slowly pushed himself to stand. You watched in the mirror as he stood behind you. His eyes were stuck on the drops of your slick and his spit sliding down your thighs. A beautiful mess, a mix of the both of you. His hands landed gently on your ass and spread you, mouth falling agape at the clearer view.
You glared through the mirror until he met your gaze. “You’re so dirty.” You laughed and watched his face redden. He nodded in silent agreement, hands falling from your ass to the hem of his sweatpants.
“I am.” He whispered, letting his boxers drop next. “I’m so dirty for you, baby. Can’t help it.” Your eyes locked in the mirror. Neither of you could look away as he took a step a step closer, pressing his cock against your heat. “I think the nastiest things when I’m with you. And, n-not.” Your eyebrows twisted in confusion when he didn’t slide in. He stayed pressed flatly to the slick, humping his hips against you. “Of you ruining me. Making me take whatever you give me.” Whimpers left him with each movement. With each word, it seemed. He couldn’t hold anything back. “Everything about you makes me need you more.”
You couldn’t speak. Your mouth opened and closed stupidly before falling agape. “Bob…” You finally managed to force the words out.
“Yes?” His reply was instant. Hips still working his cock against you. Hands holding the small of your back, pulling you back to fully push himself against you.
You couldn’t bring yourself to finish the sentence. Though, your mind wouldn’t have one ready anyway. This was just so…obscene. He wasn’t even inside of you. Just sliding his cock up and down your folds. Humping against your ass. Rutting himself further between your spread legs. It was sloppy and nasty and so, so gross and…you loved it.
“‘M gonna cum, baby.” Bob whined, his movements growing erratic. He couldn’t keep his hands still. He didn’t know whether to hold your hips or lean down and wrap his arms around you. “So close. P-Please, can I cum?” He decided on the latter and you found yourself engulfed tightly in his hold.
You couldn’t keep the smile off your face as you listened. “You’re really gonna make a mess in our brand new apartment, sweets?” He panted against your back, forehead settling gently on your skin. “So dirty. Gonna make it all sticky, hm?”
“Yes! Gonna be so nasty, baby. Gonna c-cum all over.” He collapsed over you, arms going limp at your sides. “I’m so close. I-I need to cum.” It was pathetic, and he knew that, but he just couldn’t help it. You were his and you were there and his cock pressed so perfectly against your cunt. “Please…Can’t hold it anymore.”
You huffed as he dropped on your back. The angle pressed him more firmly against you, letting him lazily rut on your soft, welcoming pussy.
“Go ahead.” You hummed. “Make your mess, sweets.”
Bob was a goner the instant you sighed those words. He stilled. Hands clenched impossibly tight in your shirt. Face scrunched almost painfully. Then, you felt it. The soft patter of something across your back.
“Oh…” His breathless voice followed, eyes scanning the milky white that had splattered across the cotton. “Uhm-”
summary: after returning from the party in alexandria, you cant seem to keep your hands off Daryl.
warnings: thigh riding, lots of banter and teasing
word count: 1926
"Are you sure you don't need someone to help you home?" Deanna couldn't help but laugh through the question as she watched you stumble out from her doors.
You shook your head, not trusting yourself to speak. Your cheeks were rosy and hurt from how long you had them stretched into a smile. You couldn't help it. You had maybe, definitely, gone a little too hard on the drinks she had so graciously provided for the night.
"Okay, then, have a good night, dear."
"Thank y-" You choked out right before a hiccup racked through you.
You could faintly hear the door click shut behind you and you glanced back, watching the few remaining members of your group still celebrating their new home with the people of Alexandria through the windows.
The heels you had been given clicked against the pavement as you walked, feet aching with each step. You sighed loudly when you shed them in the middle of the street. You held them in one hand while you waved your other in front of you as if it would help you see in the dark.
When you somehow found your way home, you couldn't help but think you had some secret echolocation you hadn't known about. You giggled at the thought, pushing the door open. You dropped the heels next to the door and shuffled forward, trying to ignore the dull ache in your head as you forced your eyes to focus in the dark.
Every thought left your mind when you saw your dirty, probably mangy, man sitting on the couch. He narrowed his eyes as he stared at you stumbling his way like you had forgotten how to walk.
"The hell's wrong with you?"
Daryl wasn't able to say anything else before you dropped on him, wrapping your arms around him like he was a tree you were about to fall from. One of your knees settled between his while the other lay on the side of his leg.
You breathed him in, sighing. "Party was fun." He slowly relaxed under you and a hand swept the curtain of hair from your face. His thumb brushed over your warm, rosy cheeks. "Would'a been better if you were there."
Your murmur had him huffing a breath of laughter. "Yeah? I think you did jus' fine without me." You gently shook your head as his eyes ran over you. Watching. Piecing the hints of your state together. Then, it clicked. "How much you drink, girl?"
"A little." Your words sounded small. Quiet, but quickly followed by a giggle. "Had to find some way to have fun without you."
"Bet you did." He hummed, letting your head settle back on his shoulder. "You ain't gonna puke on me or nothin', right?"
You glared playfully, letting your hand slide into his hair. "I can make it happen."
He matched your gaze. "I'll throw you, girl."
Your laugh grew and you tried to muffle it by burying your head into his shoulder. "That's not nice, mister."
"Who said I was?" His smile began to grow as you gripped him as if your life depended on it. He ran a hand down your back, soothing your tense muscles until you were nearly limp on him.
You pressed a gentle, barely felt kiss to the crook of his neck. "Me." Your breathing was heavy against his skin. Each one fanned over him like a blanket. "You can be so nice sometimes." He grunted as your knees tightened around his thigh, hand pausing halfway down your back.
"Y'think?" He hummed, eyes locking on your back when you arched the slightest bit. His eyes narrowed as he watched you. "What you doin', woman?"
A soft, breathless laugh escaped you. "Sittin'." Your hips rolled slowly against his thigh.
"Just sittin', hm?" His hands fell to your hips, tightly gripping as he forced them still. "That don't look like sitting."
You whined, wriggling in his hold. "D-Daryl."
"You're drunk." His words were stern, but his grip loosened the slightest bit when he saw the pout on your lips. "I can't."
Your bottom lip jutted out just slightly as you slid your hands around to his chest. "You don't have to." You whispered, smoothing your hands up and down the ragged shirt he wore. "I'm just...s-sittin' on my man's lap." Your hips gave a small, minuscule shift up his thigh. Testing the waters. "Is that okay?" The question was genuine. You stilled your hips despite the heat in your stomach wanting you to do nothing else but ride him.
Daryl sighed softly. He considered it, narrowed eyes staring up at you and your pleading ones. "You're trouble, woman." He slowly loosened his hands as he gave in. "Go 'head, then. Keep sittin'."
A smile spread across your lips. You leaned down to press them to his. "Thank you." Your words were quickly followed by a roll of your hips. "Th-Thank you." Voice breathless. Panting heavily against his jaw. Legs so tight around his they could have been a tourniquet. "See...I was right." You let out a breath of laughter, pulling your head back to grin down at him. "You're the nicest man."
"Yeah, yeah." He huffed, sitting back to watch.
You reveled in it, giving him a show as you tugged your dress over your head. "You're gonna get it so good tomorrow, Dixon."
Daryl's face turned away as you pulled the dress off, but you both knew it was because of the reddening of his cheeks. "Evil." He grunted.
"Hm? What was that?" You hummed. The hard denim of his jeans against your barely covered pussy had you moaning with every movement of your body. "You won't want me tomorrow?"
He glared at the smirk twitching at the corner of your lips. "You don't wanna cum?" His knee raised as he lifted his calf onto the pads of his toes. "Hm?" His hands found your hips and guided them harder against the denim until you were pushing back on his chest.
You whined, hips finally moving in time with his leg. "N-Not fair."
"Never said I was." His reply was instant. Monotone. So, so serious compared to how you whined and writhed.
Every move he made pushed you closer and closer to the edge. The tightening of his hands on your hips. His leg shifting up in just the right way to press against your cunt. His eyes followed every reaction you gave. The little twitches in your legs. Tiny hiccups escaping from your throat with your whines. Your hands buried into his hair, tightening and holding his head close to your chest.
Your mouth fell open and another moan escaped you as you shook. Legs tightened until they couldn't anymore around his thigh. He couldn't tear his eyes away. They were stuck on you, as if he were committing the sight to his memory. A moment he never wanted to forget. You, hazy-eyed and shaky all over his leg. He hadn't even really touched you.
"Come." Daryl finally whispered, urging you to let yourself give in to the hot coil deep in your tummy. "I know you're close. Your face is doing that pinchin' thing."
"F-Fuck you." You giggled breathily, tugging at his hair until you could press your lips to his.
He watched as you finally came undone. The wide, feral look in your eyes. Felt how sloppy your lips grew against his until you gave up. Instead, you busied your mouth with his throat. He held tighter onto you with each passing second. Everything you did sent waves of pleasure and arousal straight to his cock. It was begging for release. Throbbing angrily behind the denim.
Daryl wanted nothing more than to release himself from the confines of his jeans and bury himself so deep in your cunt, neither of you would be seen for a week. But, he was given another reminder of the state you were in.
You collapsed on his chest as soon as the final pulse of pleasure wracked through your body. You were limp and so, so soft against him. Head buried sweetly in the crook of his neck. Arms loosely slung around his shoulders. You were asleep in a matter of minutes. He listened as your excited pants moved on from yawning and whispering to silence and snoring.
The scene put a warm, unfamiliar feeling in Daryl's chest. It crawled around in him until he felt himself begin to fall asleep. He didn't accept this urge either. Instead, he collected you more neatly in his lap and lifted you with him as he stood. You held him tighter at the change in position. Feet locked behind his back.
You woke momentarily when Daryl let you onto the bed. Eyes peeked only slightly open to watch him. You were both silent. Just looking at each other. Thinking. Wanting. Wishing.
You wished you hadn't drunk so much. If you hadn't, you would spearing yourself on his cock until neither of you could take it anymore. He knew it too. Could see the same needy spark you got in your eyes right before stealing him away from the rest of the group.
"Keep your hands to yourself, woman." Daryl finally broke the silence as he moved to climb into bed beside you. "I mean it this time. No funny business. No teasin'. No Nothin'." Still, his scarred hands pulled the cover over both of you and he didn't object when you shuffled closer.
You pouted your bottom lip, but nodded. "I suppose I'll save it for tomorrow."
"You better. I don't know how much more I can take from ya' tonight." Daryl let out a huff of laughter. "Damn near killin' me with those eyes."
"Not my fault." You whined softly. "It's so hard not to look at you."
One of his eyebrows raised as he watched you slide against him. His arm moved under your head absentmindedly and you lay on it as if you had been doing it forever. It felt like you had.
"Thank you." You whispered when both of you had settled. Your eyes peeked open just to see his reaction.
Daryl brushed your hair back with his hands until it was all behind you. He liked having such a clear view of you. "For what?"
You shrugged shyly, hands landing on his chest. He could feel the growing warmth of your skin. See the slight flush on your face and neck. He wanted so badly to tease you for it, but he only waited for you to answer. "Dealing with me. How...needy I am." You finally muttered. Your words were rushed and anyone with less trained ears might not have caught them. "Thank you."
Daryl sat with your words for a minute before responding. "I'm not an 'asky' person." He finally spoke into the little space between you. "Jus' because I don't say anything, don't mean it ain't true. I'm probably just as needy as you." His smile returned. Gentler now. Eyes and mind focused entirely on you and how sweet you looked now, curled up against him. "I know I am now. It's killin' me to just lay here n' not be pettin' your pretty pussy, baby. Hurts me so bad."
You stared silently up at the man for a minute, probably more. Mouth agape, tongue nearly sticking out. "I'm not leaving this house tomorrow, am I, Dixon?" He could feel your thighs shifting together beneath the blankets.
summary: You and Eddie sneak off during a party . . .
warnings: weed, thigh riding while high
word count: 1798
Eddie couldn't hide his smile as you settled beside him on the bed. You two were finally alone after escaping the horde of drunk teenagers outside the room, the sounds of games and slurred conversation still meeting your ears. You both settled against the headboard, eyes scanning around the bedroom you didn't know the owner of.
"This is bad." You finally spoke, voice hushed until it was barely audible. "They're gonna know."
Eddie shook his head as he settled the little green herb onto the paper. "You were throwing back shots out there and you're worried about this? Natural herb grown in the ground?"
"Well...that's different. Everyone's drinking." You swallowed thickly, eyes following intently as he leaned down to lick a stripe across the thin paper, rolling it together to form a cigarette shape. "This is-"
"Only for freaks, I know." He smiled, watching the sudden panic in your face. He lit the tip of the joint and pulled it to his own mouth for the first hit. "It's just something different. You'll be fine, sweetheart."
You waved your hands in the cloud of smoke that covered your face when he exhaled. "Asshole."
Still, you couldn't tear your eyes away from his as he pulled the joint back to his lips. You watched carefully. Noting when he inhaled a second time after pulling the joint away, and how long he held all of it in before letting it escape. Right into your face, again.
"Your turn?" He offered it toward you and a large grin hit his lips when your fingers replaced his on the paper. You glanced nervously at him, bringing it slowly closer to your mouth. Eddie couldn't tear his eyes from you. "That's it, sweetheart." Your pinched brows, the slight quiver in your pretty pink lips, and even just your fingers around the joint were doing things to him. "Hold it." He whispered, taking the joint away so you could focus on not coughing your head off. He patted your back when you finally exhaled, leaned over your knees, and hacking like your lungs had done something to you.
"Oh, my god." You fell back against the headboard and panted when your throat felt like it wasn't covered in little fire ants. "That's evil." With the pain finally gone, you could now feel the hand placed on the top of your head. His thumb rubbed gently at your hair, wide eyes on yours.
Eddie cleared his throat and slowly pulled his hand away, face pinched as if it pained him to do so. "That's fun." He busied his hands with the little roll instead, pulling it to his lips for another puff. "You don't like it?"
You could see the spark of hope in his eyes. The want for you to enjoy something he liked. "I'm not sure."
You leaned closer until your face was inches from his. He eventually got the hint, angling the roll toward you until you could wrap your lips around it. His free hand found the space between your neck and shoulder as you settled more comfortably against him.
Once again, he couldn't look away. You just looked so perfect like this. He could see the whites of your eyes turning hazy and the concentration it took to keep yourself from coughing and ruining the hit. Somehow, you were able to wait until you exhaled to cough. This one was worse than the first. You covered your mouth with one of your hands, curling down into your lap.
Eddie pulled you closer as you struggled, letting your head settle against his shoulder until your tense body calmed. You cleared your throat and swallowed thickly, one hand smoothing up and down your neck as if that would do anything.
"Any final thoughts?"
You laughed. It almost hurt to do it, but you did. "It would be a lot better without the burning." Your arms curled around his shoulders as you let yourself succumb to the lightness filling your chest, going nearly limp when he pulled you onto his lap.
"Yeah, that'd be a plus." He sighed, smoothing a hand down your back. "It gets better the more you do it. You get used to it." Then, he paused before adding, "But, you don't have to. You can stick to your drinks, sweets."
You grumbled from behind his curtain of hair. "Who said I didn't want to?" Your nose brushed his throat as you laughed and he felt a shiver run down his spine. When your hands found his hair he had to fight back a groan from escaping his mouth. You played with the ends, twirling the curls between your fingers. "I love learning the things you like, Eddie." Your words were nearly silent. They were hushed against his ear, only ever meant to grace his mind.
"T-That's sweet of you, baby." His hand found the nape of your neck. He held you there, nestled against him, calming the speedy bump of his heart, until he felt he wouldn't embarrass himself. "Real sweet." He pressed a kiss to your cheek, humming softly. "How're you feeling? Is it hittin' you yet?"
"I don't know." You whispered, words muffled against his skin. "Aren't you the...weed pro?"
Eddie gently pulled your head away until he could get a good look at your face. Your eyes were squinted just slightly and he smiled, watching as you wriggled gently against his hold. "Oh, yeah. You got it good, sweetheart."
"Could I?" You giggled, your own hands falling to his chest.
"Could you, what?" He let you lean in and press kisses to his cheeks. His hands rested on your hips, just holding as you showered him with little pecks.
When you finally pulled back, your cheeks were flushed and he swore it was the prettiest thing he'd seen. "Get it good." You whispered. As if the words were a cue, your hips shifted gently against him. Just slightly. The smallest roll of them against his own.
Less cute. More...frustrating.
"Woah, there, tiger." He tried to ignore the tightening of his pants as he stilled you on his lap. "What do you think you're doing?"
You bit gently at your lip when his hands tightened on your hips. "What do you mean?" Your words were soft. "I'm just...appreciating my boyfriend."
"I-I feel very appreciated, babe." He kept you there, pushed back on his lap. You were nearly sitting on his knees. "But, you're high...and drunk?" Your eyes followed the bob of his Adam's apple as he swallowed as if it pained him. "We can't."
Your bottom lip pouted out. Hands landed on top of his. "Eddie..." You adjusted your position until only one of his thighs was slotted between your legs. "What if we just..." Your hips rolled once more, the material of your jeans rubbing together.
"What happened to 'this is bad', sweetheart?" Eddie held your hips for just a moment more before slowly letting them drop. "You draw the line at weed, but you're all for messin' around on a random person's bed?"
You began to laugh, but quickly stopped. His thigh raised slightly and you could see the teasing smile forming on his lips. "W-We're not..." You whined and leaned forward when his leg continued to rise, going up and down as you moved against his thigh. "Oh, oh, fuck!"
"Shh..." His hands found your head, one landing in your hair while the other cupped gently over your mouth. "You don't want them to know you're about to cum in their bed, do you?" He shook his head and waited until you joined in to continue. "No, we don't. Can you be quiet for me, sweetheart? Please?"
You mumbled from behind his palm. "Mhm..." Instantly, his leg twitched higher. Your hips rolled faster. His hands moved to your waist and pushed you down, forcing you to grind harder against him. "I'll be s-so quiet, Eddie."
"I know, sweet girl." He could tell you were getting close. The pinching of your eyebrows. The little 'o' your lips had turned into. The death grip you had on his shoulders as you pressed your hips just that much harder against the denim. "You gonna cum? Hm?"
You nodded lazily, head bobbing as you felt the warmth in your stomach become nearly unbearable. You needed to cum so bad. Your nails dug just a little deeper into the material of the jacket he wore. Thighs tightened around his. He could feel it. See it. The need for release in each of your movements. The want for it in your eyes, slitted so he could barely see your irises.
“Come on, sweets” He whispered. He pulled you closer until he could press his lips to your throat. He licked a stripe up your skin, smile growing when he felt you shiver against him. “Can you come for me?”
“Yes.” Your reply was instant. “I can. N-Need to. Need you.” A moan threatened to escape your lips and you quickly bit down on your lip. “G-Gonna jump on you tomorrow, Eds. Not gonna leave your bed all day.” Each of your words was punctuated with swift grinds of your hips. He met you in the middle by twitching his leg up and down with your movements.
Eddie grinned as he watched you come undone on his lap. You were usually such a put-together girl, a top student in your class. Now, you were whining and grinding on his lap like an animal in heat. Your eyes, normally so attentive and alert, were now hazy and skipping around, unable to focus on anything as the pleasure overtook your body.
Finally, with one final rough shove against his leg, you jolted. Mouth hung open. Hands clinging desperately onto his shoulders. Legs twitching around him.
“There we go, sweetheart.” Eddie’s hands smoothed down your back and gently guided you to lean against him. Your head settled comfortably against his chest, arms wrapped around him. “That hit the spot?”
You laughed and he quickly joined. Your eyes peeked open when you felt him move once more. He grabbed the half-smoked joint he had snuffed on his boot from the bedside table, lighting it and returning it to its spot at the corner of his mouth.
“Hit all the spots.” You hummed softly, then a sly smile spread across your lips. “Except for one.” The smoke blew over your face once again, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care, not when you were nestled so perfectly against him.
“I’ll take care of that one tomorrow. Don’t you worry, sweetheart.”
Your mouth opened as soon as the joint was pointed toward you. “Promise?” You blew the smoke right back, giggling as he gently jostled you in his lap.
🍓 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 love abortion and trans people and migrants and birth control and immigrants and gay people and having fun and just being a nice and overall good person
warnings: shota is lowk a meanie and you’re a D1 rage baiter, oral (f receiving), fingering, p in v
word count: 2953
You didn't know what you had signed up for.
You thought the student teaching position at U.A. would be an easy way to kill time and boost your resume. You expected to spend your weekdays with snobby high schoolers with even snottier coworkers. What you didn’t expect was a grumpy, sleep-deprived man who very obviously hated you.
His glaring stares lasted much too long to be friendly. The way his mouth ticked when you were alone, as if he couldn't even stand to be in the same room as you. How he would critique your form while sparring and have you pinned in the next second.
It was the only time you'd seen him smile since starting the job. In the mirrors by the walls, you could see him, his big arm wrapped around your neck and flexing almost gloatingly. Or, straddling your waist and holding your hands in one of his, far above your head.
He was evil and mean and so, so cruel on the sparring mat...and, you loved it.
Loved how rough he was with you. Pushing you against the walls and mats like you were nothing. Ignoring your weak pleas until you tapped out. You took every second of his torture with tired smiles on your face.
Shota thought you were just stupid at first. Naive and excited to learn. That made him want to ruin you more. Then, the mischievous spark you got in your eyes when you stared up at him through your thick lashes and flushed cheeks. That's when he realized you weren't academically driven.
The hunger behind the sounds he pulled from you. Desire in the way your thighs tightened around his waist and thrusted to flip over. A silent need in your eyes now, cheek to the mat, straining to capture his with your own.
You're both panting. Waiting. No words. Only quick, strained movements. It's hot. You're both covered in a sheen of sweat and red marks that would soon be bruises. Some were already bruises. A quiet hue of yellow beginning to form.
Neither of you remember how long you had been going. Hours. Too many rounds to count. Your clothes were splotched with sweat and you lay chest to back.
His hands landed on each of your shoulders, pushing you to the mat below. You shivered at the force. Shifted back. Your cheek slid as he shoved you. He pulled his hands back. Pushed you down the same way.
It was followed by an airy breath from you.
"Asshole."
Shota responded harshly, hands tightening almost painfully on your shoulders. "Really?"
The sound that escaped you was sinful. Loud and needy. Quickly muffled by the mat when he buried a hand in your hair and forced you down. He held you there. Your cheeks puffed and your nose smushed against the foam.
God, Shota hated you.
He hated how you had talked to him. Those three months ago when you first showed up. You were loud and bright-eyed and you stared up at him like he wasn't the meanest man you had ever met. No matter how rude or sarcastic he was, you'd reply in the same tone as him. Leveling your shoulders. Raising your chin. So stubborn.
He hated you because of how you made him think. They were dirty, unspeakable thoughts he couldn't ever repeat. Having him stay late in his office. Covering his mouth with a quivering hand and bucking his hips into his palm. He couldn't finish. Imagining your parted lips and lewd noises made him want the real thing. His cock was angry from the need to release. You could feel it. Hard and poking you through his sweatpants. You tried to brush it off. It was probably a...pen?
No. Oh, god, no.
His hips rolled forward and you knew it was not a pen. Nowhere near a pen. Much, much bigger than a pen. Heavy and pushed purposely to your clothed ass.
"I'm an asshole?" He turned your head with the hold he had in your hair. "You really think so?" His words were muttered cruelly into the side of your neck. Almost growled.
Rhetorical, but you still had the urge to fight.
"Mhm. I think so." You wriggled under him and he pushed into your back until you arched against the mat. "Y-You're the meanest asshole I've ever met, Mr Aizawa." His hips rolled into yours and you swore you heard him whimper. Your hands pushed uselessly at the foam. Each time you moved, you’re met with another harsh shove. "These last three months have been a v-very inspirational and useful experience I will value in my future."
Your tone is growing nervous. You know what you're doing, swishing your hips and arching until you feel him press against you. You act surprised each time he pushes you, but he knows you're not.
Shota groans loudly in your ear. He's panting and flushed. Roaming hands go up and into the top you wore. His hands don't hesitate. They rub slowly over the soft skin of your sides, eliciting as many noises as they can. They're calloused and rough and they tug cruelly at your shirt. Pulling. Moving you. Rutting against the divot of your ass.
Your hips press back into his meekly. They're slow. Thighs pressed together. You want him so bad, it almost hurts. He can tell. Your eyebrows are pressed together in the most frustrating way. Angled up. A small, minuscule movement, but so, so telling.
Shota stills. He slowly wills himself to pull his hips away from yours. He clears your hair from your face. It's gentle and slow and your brain has whiplash.
Finally, he whispers lowly into your ear.
"Do you want this?”
The question is simple.
Yes or no.
Your mind makes it hard. Comes up with alternative meanings. Tells you the hunger in his eyes is in your head. The way his lips pressed on your throat was a slip. He's not pressing his cock against your ass, that's his...dildo taser?
You giggled at the thought and he growled. His free hand slid into the hem of your pants. They moved greedily, palms flat on your thighs before sliding just barely over your ass. "What's funny?"
Your mouth opened. Tongue prepared. You already had your retort ready. Then, you stilled. Mouth slammed shut. Nothing was funny when his fingers pressed against you through your panties. Any and every thought fell from your mind as he nudged the thin cloth to the side.
"Nothing?" Your eye peeks open to meet his stare. It's fiery and pointed. Glaring right into your hungry eyes. He wanted to fuck the excitement out of you. Finger and suck and fuck you until the only thing you knew how to do was say 'please' and 'thank you' in that sickly sweet tone. "Come on, don't tell me you're all out of juice already. Haven't even touched you yet." He talks like he owns you. Not waiting to hear your input. Letting your mind shut off and obey.
"Your dick." You finally answer, slurred and muffled against the foam. Your eyes meet his and the corner of your sly smile peeks out. "M-Mine's bigger."
Your giggle is cut off by a rough roll of his hips. Your whole body jolts on the mat. He grins cruelly and his hands are already shoving your sweatpants down to your thighs. Your hands have stilled on the mat. The knuckles are white and strained from how hard you're gripping onto the edge of the foam. You're holding it like it'll save you from what's coming next.
"Such a dirty mouth." He grabbed your chin tight, forcing your mouth shut before he plunged a finger into your heat. He did it without warning. Trusting the wetness of your cunt to help. "Can't believe I waited this long. No one's ever made me mad like you." He pulled his finger in and out of you, giving you only seconds before pushing a second digit into you. "You're the meanest asshole I've ever met."
"I-I'm your favorite."
Shota retracts his fingers at your words. He pulled back almost completely. The only sign he was still there was the sound of his breath. A second passes and you feel the air pass over your heat. It's slow and purposeful and you shiver hard when his tongue meets your cunt. It's gentle. A stark contrast to the way he's speaking to you. It feels like he's testing the waters. Slipping his tongue in and out and then back over your little bundle of nerves. He repeats the action when your legs quiver below you. Slowly. Over and over while you mewl and whimper below him.
Your hips push back and his nose presses firmly against you. Your body doesn't know whether to pull away or push closer. Let him bully your cunt or lean and at least act like you haven't given up already. He decided for you, grabbing handfuls of your ass and using them to pull you onto his face. He moans against you when his face goes flush with your heat. It's brief and lasts only a second but he's addicted. He wanted to bury his face in your cunt and never come up. That fact only makes him hate you more.
His tongue curls in you. Pressing the soft flesh with the muscle. Each hum from his mouth sends jolts up your spine. You're close already. He can feel it in the flutter of your gummy walls around his tongue. You're so soft and welcoming. Needy and begging for him not to stop.
It's pathetic.
Dirty. Messy. Wet. Your slick is trailing down his chin, collecting on his stubble. His tongue curls once more. You arch. You're right there, teetering on the edge of release. You're so close, he could poke you just one more time and your pretty little cunt would come on his tongue. He almost did at the thought. Three months of wrapping his fist around his cock and only getting slick sounds in return.
You had plagued his mind with your sweetness.
Shota pulled his face away just before you could cum. You whined and your thighs pressed together and your hips wriggled back, greedily seeking friction. He gave it to you, ignoring the small voice in his head telling him to make you beg for it. He moaned as he moved against you.
It was only his sweatpants separating you now. Those too were soon dragged down. He left them at his thighs, already busying his hand by palming himself through his boxers. He gasped softly. So sensitive. So ready to slide into your cunt.
The urge to push you down and fuck you dumb grew inside of him, but he pushed it down. He pushed it far and reminded himself to be gentle as he peeled your panties down your smooth legs. It was a struggle in his mind. Two warring sides, fighting to either go easy or ram you against the mat.
One eventually won, and you found your ass being peppered with kisses. They were scattered and sloppy. His chin was still wet from your slick, tickling your skin with each press. However, the peace didn't last long. He turned his head and nipped gently at your flushed skin.
You heard shuffling. Slow. Cautious. Then, you felt something press against your heat. It was followed by the rare appearance of an almost kind comment from his mouth.
"You're tough. You'll be able to take it, right?"
The tip of his angry cock pressed into your heat until it was squelching in your slick. That was it. Just the tip and you both felt like you were losing your minds. Your nails left white scratch marks on the rubber. His hands held your hips tight, keeping you in place while he tried not to bottom out into your cunt.
It was hard not to. So, so hard when your body was practically begging him to. Still, he held back. Eyes squeezed shut. Tight arms. Legs like statues on the mat while you shook below him.
"I hate you." The words could barely escape your clenched jaw as he just barely shifted forward. "I hate you." You growled when he stopped. Breathed. Chest heaving. Let you get used to the added inch before he pushed just a little more. "F-Fuck! I hate you, Shota." His calloused hands slid up from your hips, trailing until they could sweep the hair from your face. Your shoulders eased, just slightly, as he collected it in his hands and pushed it to the side. "I-I hate you." It was quiet now. So quiet, he almost couldn't hear.
Shota nodded with each hissed word, gaze finally meeting yours. Your eyes held everything but hate. He could see the need. The same hunger as him in the way your eyes trailed up his chest. The tension in your face from months and months of the buildup. The deep, buried care in the way your hand searched for his. Reaching back like you were scared he would walk away, until his hand finally curved over the back of your palm. He felt your body relax under him. Your hips shifting back needily. He allowed it as his fingers entwined with yours.
"You hate me?" You knew what was coming with the question. He pushed his hips forward until your eyes closed. Squeezed shut like your eyelids would protect you. "Do you really?" He was nearly all in now and each movement had your mind shivering with 'more?'. His head dropped to your shoulder, leaving gentle kisses across the skin. "Hate is a strong word." His hand was so gentle, despite the cruel lilt in his voice as he spoke. Curling so slowly around your hand. Thumb stroking your quivering skin. "Are you sure it's the one you want to use?" He was giving you another chance.
Your mind was blank as you panted at the rubber. You were close and he wasn't even in all the way yet and your mind wouldn't work with you. All you could think of was the way he was stretching your cunt. He could see it, the blankness growing behind your eyes. He really had broken you.
"Come on, use your words." His voice was the only thing you could hear, his lips just inches from your ear.
You could feel his breath pass over your skin. Warm. Stuttered. You groaned softly. You were both fighting to keep your minds together, so how was he so calm? He was buried deep in your cunt, and he still held himself as if you were just sparring. It infuriated you...and, your lips moved before you could stop them.
"Hate...you."
Shota let out a laugh, one of the only ones you'd heard from him, and it was one of the scariest things you had ever heard. His hips pulled back and your body moved with him, needy noises escaping you at the sudden emptiness. Then, all at once, it came back. His hips were flush with yours, cock buried in you, pressing you impossibly deeper into the mat. A surprised squeal escaped you before you went silent. Your hands crossed quickly over your mouth and you curled in, trying to fight the reactions that threatened to slip.
"No." Shota huffed. He wrapped a hand in your hair once more and tugged you up against his chest. His free hand moved quickly, tugging your hands from your mouth. "I wanna hear you." He growled, keeping you upright against him. "Wanna hear how much you really hate me, since you can't seem to keep the word out of your mouth." His hips slid slowly back before slamming forward, forcing all of him back into your needy cunt. "Come on, sweet girl, show me how much you hate me."
Your hips moved forward on their own accord until just his tip breached your heat. You stayed there a moment, panting, questioning how you got there, before slowly letting them meet his once more. You whimpered, but you repeated it anyway. He stayed right there. Completely still. Letting you fuck yourself on his cock. Watching.
"That's it." He hummed and his hips slowly moved until they matched the pace of your own. Meeting in the middle. An obscene squelching echoed across the gym and you cringed. "Just like that."
You willed an insult back as it threatened to spill, jaw clenching almost painfully. That cruelness you had learned to love was quickly turning into a fear. You were close and he knew it. His hips snapped just a little faster. One of his hands slowly found your throat, curling around it to keep you upright. His fingers tightened just slightly and you arched into him, hips pressed flush to his.
You were right there, the coil in your stomach so hot and so ready to just-
Your hands barely slapped the ground before your head hit the mat. His cock was no longer nestled inside your cunt, but warm and heavy in his palm as his fist ran over it.
“Shota…” You whined.
Shota shook his head as he watched you, eyes running over you as if he owned you. “You thought I’d let you cum that quick?” His hand cupped roughly under your chin, forcing your head to strain to the side to see him. He lined his hips with yours, slapping his cock against your heat. You jolted with each little slap. “You’ve been teasing for months. You’re lucky if I let you cum this year.”
summary: hizashi needs a distraction from all of the reporters camped outside of U.A.
warnings: p in v
word count: 1174
"Come in."
Your voice came quickly after a frantic knock. Nearly ten thumps, erratic and halting in your office. Your eyebrows pinched together as the blond you had departed from that morning strode in. His eyes never met you, head low, bobbing with each rushed step. He couldn't truly see where he was going. His wild, blond mop of hair made sure of that, almost creating a barrier between him and the fluorescent lights above. He was thankful for that. If you saw the red flush already covering his cheeks, he wouldn't hear the end of it until the two of you went to bed that night.
"What are you-"
Hizashi was already on you. Lips pressed flush to yours. Already wet and messy. A clash of spit and heavy breaths. Your body tensed instantly and he used it to pull you from the chair.
"Fucking reporters..."
He pushed you down against the wood, pressing you onto the edge of the desk until you slid over it, and your water suddenly tipped over. You both froze at the sharp sound that followed. Watched the shattered glass get swallowed by the slow spread of the water.
"I liked that cup..." Your lip pouted at the loss of your limited edition Present Mic cup. You could just barely make out his face in the mess of glass.
Hizashi's hands smoothed down your sides. Fingers slipped into the hem of your skirt. "I'm sorry." His voice gentled, only slightly. Words followed by the press of his lips to the crook of your neck. "I'll bring the event back." He guided your hips up and down as he tugged your skirt, letting it drop in a heap beneath your swaying feet. "Just...l-let me-"
His clothed groin pressed forward, slotting perfectly between your spread thighs and you felt everything. The curve of his cock against your panties. The gentle twitch when you reached down to slide your fingertip over the bend.
He groaned in response, bucking his hips forward. "Please..." Hizashi whined. "Don't tease. Not now." His voice rose an octave when you leaned with him as he pulled his jeans down, keeping your palm pressed firmly to his cock that wanted so desperately to be freed. "Th-Those heartless-" He let you tug him through his boxers. "no brain-" His hands slid down to the waistband of your panties, fingers toying with the tiny bow at the front. "stupid fucking-" Before you could protest, the white and pink cloth was ripped down the middle. "reporters."
You watched, mouth agape as your favorite pink panties were thrown to the floor. "My cup and these, Zash-"
"Shh..."
His cock plunged into your heat, derailing any train of thought you may have had. A noise, somewhere between a moan and a scream, escaped you. Your hands found his shoulders, gripping onto the tensing muscles like your life depended on it as he thrusted deep into your cunt. It felt like the air had been ripped from your lungs each time he did, pulling every drop of it out with his cock just to stuff it all back in.
"Oh, f-f-fuck..." He drawled, head falling against your shoulder as if it were him getting skewered. "Y'take me so well, sweetheart." He whispered, or at least tried to. You just felt too good. Too wet. Too warm. "Just sit there. You don't need to do anything." So perfectly molded around his cock, like you were made just for him.
Your arms wrapped around him, nails poking at him through the jacket he wore. "Zashi-" His hips slammed forward, stilling against you as he panted. He ground them against you, making sure every square inch of him was deep inside your gummy walls. "Oh, oh, oh!" Your voice rose in octaves as his skin pressed to your clit and he grinned in response.
"That got ya', hm?" He pulled his head back to watch, golden eyes mesmerized as they ran over every visible piece of you. "Y'singing for me now, sweet girl?"
You glared in response and his smile only grew. "Are you gonna fuck me or-"
Hizashi didn't give you time to finish your sentence. His hips pulled back and resumed their pace, a quiet plap, plap, plap emitting into the small room. It was dirty. Obscene. A little evil, probably...like, the reporters camped outside of U.A. As soon as the thought hit his mind, he groaned once more. He'd come to his girl just to forget all that was outside, and yet, it was still all he could think about.
You were close. Your legs tightened around his hips and your hands crossed his back, grabbing onto opposite shoulders.
Those lowlife-
Your eyebrows pinched together. The coil inside of you grew hotter with each of his quick, snappy thrusts.
creepy, invasive-
His thumb slid between your smushed bodies, the pad of it pressing gently against your clit. You arched into him, unintelligible words escaping your mouth in a flurry of need.
unfuckable, and unlovable reporters!
You came so hard you swore you saw stars. Your whole body tightened around him and he hissed. His teeth clamped on the side of his hand, trying to fight the urge to yell out and undeniably wreck your office. Instead, his hips continued. Harder. Faster. Each one punching into your cunt while you fell back on the desk. He let you lie back, hands falling to your hips, pulling you to the edge so you were just that much closer.
Your legs wrapped around the back of his hips as you felt him twitch inside of you. He was getting close too. They tightened until he was pressed flush to you. Even then, his hips slid forward. You whimpered and he knew you would come again, the corner of his lips twisting up.
"Give me another one," Hizashi whispered. His hands moved up, wiping hair and sweat from your face. "You can do that, can't you, sweetheart?" He all but cooed, guiding your head up to press your lips together. "Come with me, yeah?"
Once again, you were given no time to respond. Your mouth opened, but no words could escape. He was already off, slamming into you just as he had before. Only, he looked crazed now. Eyes wide and unfocused. Lip caught between his teeth. Quick breaths escaping him.
"I can feel how close you are." He grunted, trying to give a big smile but quickly failing. He was too close to even try and hide it. "Come on, sweet girl. Come with me."
Your body couldn't fight it. The second orgasm washed over you like a fire and your legs shook around his hips. You could feel his cum adding to the mess in and between your bodies.
"That's it." Hizashi nodded, peppering kisses across your face and shoulders. He stayed inside of you, letting both of you take a moment to breathe. "Thank you..." He finally grinned, bright eyes genuinely content as they met yours. "needed this."
summary: You and Bob are left at the tower while the rest of the team goes on a mission after Bob and you have an accident, totally unrelated to an arm wrestling match a week prior. Taking your frustration out on a punching bag turns into taking it out on him...and more of him.
word count: 9759
“no funny business”🪢1/3🪢3956wc
warnings: handjob, he’s pathetic in like every possible way in this…oops finger slipped ig
warnings: boss!reader x assistant!tenya, public teasing, p in v
word count: 3495
Tenya stared silently down at his phone. His hair was wet and a towel was wrapped lazily around his hips. He had just gotten home and then out of the ice-cold shower. He went in to calm his nerves. Hopefully get rid of the sinful thoughts running through his mind and the prominent bulge poking from between his legs.
It worked for only a moment. Then, he saw the notification from an unknown number. A message. Short, with no greeting and no goodbye.
It was the name of a nearby bar, and then '8:00. Don't be late.'
You didn't know what had possessed you to do it. Send a text that could potentially be the most embarrassing thing you'd ever done. Still, you found yourself at the doors of the bar at exactly eight.
Tenya was already there, just like you knew he would be. He was standing by the door, eyes already on you. Unsure and nervous. He looked so awkward there. Waiting so patiently. When you began to get up from the taxi he moved, offering his hand to you.
"Such a gentleman." You hummed, grinning as your arms hooked together.
He gently guided you out, being careful not to trip you in the heels you wore. They added a couple of inches to your height, but you still just barely reached his neck. He held your arm with his to the door until you finally pulled away. He wanted to hold on. Keep you against him. He felt bare without your touch.
"So...Do you always listen to unknown numbers, Tenya?" You teased as he found you a small table by the wall.
He pulled your chair back before answering, slowly scooting you in. "No." Tenya's smile was lopsided and boyish. He settled in across from you. "Only when I know it's you, ma'am."
Oh, again with the ma'am.
You inhaled sharply. Swallowed thickly. Then, your eyes met his once more. "It's dangerous, Tenya. I should expect my assistant not to do this, yes?" Your voice turned stern. Scolding. He shrank across from you, trying to ignore the heat in his groin. "You are a very good assistant. I'd like to keep you a while longer."
It was then that he noticed what you were wearing. The blue dress you had shown him. It did fit your figure well. He could barely keep his eyes off of you. He could barely even hear your voice as you spoke. You were just so beautiful.
"Y-Yes, ma'am," Tenya whispered. His eyes ran quickly over the neck of your dress. It went deep, nearly to the middle of your breasts. They snapped back to you when your heel tapped his foot. You caught him. You laughed and his face flushed. "I apologize. Showing up here and..." You could see the struggle in his face to not run his eyes over you again. "It's highly inappropriate of me."
"Yes." You smile and he can see the teasing look in your eyes. "Very, very inappropriate."
Your heel stays on his loafers. Just barely twitching up. He stays silent. Watching you order a drink.
The nice woman comes to him next with her small notepad. "You want anything, sir?" Your foot moved higher, the tip of your heel brushing his calves. His jaw tensed shut. He barely heard her through the pounding in his ears. He could only respond with a small shake of his head. He couldn't open his mouth, scared of whatever sound would escape him.
You asked the woman to bring two of what you were having. You asked with a sickly sweet smile on your lips, which were perfectly covered by a deep red lipstick. He didn't get how you were so calm. So collected, even as your heel was brushing his knee. He felt weak. His cock was already twitching in his pants and you'd barely even touched him.
"I, uh-" Tenya cleared his throat, adjusting the tie that suddenly felt too tight. "I thought you had a date tonight?" His voice sounded almost hopeful.
You grinned and his thighs clenched together. Your foot was captured between them. A quiet sound of surprise escaped his pretty lips, eyes finding your black heel sat so perfectly on his legs. He didn't push you away. He let you continue, slowly easing his thick thighs apart.
"Wouldn't you call this a date?"
Tenya nearly came on the spot. His fist curled over his groin, attempting to hide his erection when the woman came back with the drinks. He muttered a soft 'thank you'. He barely made it through the words without moaning, your heel now midway up his thighs. It poked gently at his legs, at the space just around his hard, angry cock.
He took a large, audible gulp of the alcohol. He swallowed thickly before finally working up the courage to open his mouth. "I-If you're okay with calling this a date, yes." He nodded and his hands curled around the edge of the table. His knuckles were white with the force. "I would like that."
You continued to tease your heel across his legs as the two of you finished your drinks. Tenya even found his voice. He spoke softly, quiet and slow as if he was scared a moan could slip out at any moment. And, it could.
When it came time to pay, Tenya was quick to pull out his wallet.
You stopped him. "Oh, no, Tenya. Let me." You dug into your purse and he tried to object again, his card already between his fingers. "I invited you here. I should pay." He objected again and his free hand waved to call over the sweet woman who had gotten your drinks. "Tenya." The sternness in your voice almost made him give in. Almost. But, he has to be a gentleman. It would go against everything he stands for if-
The toe of your heel pressed firmly against his cock. His whole body jumped. He leaned over the table, forehead flat on the smoothed wood. Quiet sounds escape him when you move it just the slightest bit. His hips buck. He doesn't even care how crazy he looks now. The only thing that matters is how good it feels to be sitting across from you. Talking to you. Letting you tease him as you please.
He can hear you talking faintly in the background. "Oh, he's just a lightweight." Your hand buries in his hair and he leans into it. His own hand rises to cover yours, letting you tug at the roots.
When your foot finally pulls back, he deflates in his seat, falling against the cushioned back. He pants and his eyes are drooping. Your eyes watch him. Following his hand as he tries to adjust the tent in his pants, now decorated by a small dirt print from your heel. He wipes it off and groans softly at the friction. He could literally come from a poke.
You know it too. The smile on your lips. The giggle from your pretty throat. Amused sparks in your eyes. You think it's funny. His need for you. It's so obvious. He would probably let you fuck him right there in the dingy bar bathroom, forgetting any thoughts of keeping his manners in check.
"Would you mind driving me home, pretty?"
Pretty?
Tenya nodded lazily. His head bobbed unceremoniously up and down, red eyes boring so loudly into yours. You can tell what he's thinking. What he wants and needs. He's so obvious about it. He doesn't care anymore about getting caught, eyes drawing slowly down the cleavage of your dress.
You grin up at him as he leads you to his car. His hand has found its spot on your back, keeping you as close as he comfortably can. He at least remembers to open the door for you, placing a hand on your head just in case you tap the top of his car. He doesn't step away from the door until you're settled in and buckled.
You're eye level with his cock and he knows you see the prominent tent. A blush is spread across his face and neck and you can almost imagine it seeping down his chest. He doesn't even bother to try and hide it anymore.
Tenya sighs when he starts his car. He sits there for a moment. Panting. Thinking. Trying to ignore your eyes on him.
"I'm sorry." He finally whispers. He keeps his eyes on the road ahead as he starts driving.
You gently kick your heels off. "Sorry? For what?" Your voice is gentle. Dancing so prettily out of your perfect mouth.
He groans softly, cock twitching in his pants. "I-I'm...For that." He doesn't have to say it for you to know.
"For your dick?" You laugh. Your eyes crease in the prettiest way as you watch him. He glances back when he can. Eyebrows pinched together. He's so worried. Both of his hands are clenched tight around the steering wheel. "Tenya, I wasn't rubbing my heel on you for nothing. I wanted to get a...reaction." Your tone turns softer, despite how teasing the words are. You see how bothered the poor man is.
Tenya doesn't speak for a moment. He's silent as he drives, following the route to your apartment. You let him think, your eyes falling on the road as well.
It's quiet for another second before he finally speaks. "I-I want to kiss you." His voice is meek and shy. Whispered like you were the only one ever meant to hear it.
"Then, do it."
Tenya doesn't hesitate. He slows the car and turns it into a quieter part of the city. His fingers drum impatiently on the steering wheel when a light turns red. He stops and waits. One of his hands falls and lands on his thigh, nails digging in. He's struggling so much. His cock is so hard it almost hurts and the hum of his car isn't helping.
You watch with a small smile as the light finally turns green. The car was moving again in an instant.
Tenya turns to you when the car stops. He seemed so sure only a second ago, body humming with need. But, he looks nervous now. His large hands slowly find your face, cupping you in them. He's so gentle. Holding you almost reverently, like this is a dream and he could wake up at any second.
"May I?"
You don't make him wait any longer. You lean forward and that's an answer enough. His lips press against yours. Gentle at first. He licks across your lip. Tasting you. Finally. He groans and you giggle.
"P-Please..."
His whimpered word pulls you from your mission to see how many licks it takes to get to the center of a Tenya. "Please, what?"
"Please, touch me." He's panting. His head droops down to your shoulder. He stays there. Breath fanning heavily over your skin. He tilts his head and presses a gentle kiss to your collarbone.
"Touch you?" You hum softly. It sounds so weird coming from the polite man.
Tenya nosed at your skin as if trying to memorize the scent of your perfume. "Yes, ma'am."
Your thighs pressed together as one of his hands landed on your knee. You moaned softly. He wanted to move it higher, his thumb twitching over your skin, but he held back. Letting you decide. He could see now how the title affected you. It was the first time you seemed to match him, your cheeks now flushed a gentle pink.
"Where?" You whispered. You gently grabbed his jaw, guiding his head over until you could press a kiss to his cheek. "Tell me where, Tenya, and I'll touch you as much as you want."
The man answered instantly, words almost inaudible against your ear. "My cock. Please." He whines softly at the sight of your hand already reaching for him. "I-It hurts..."
"I bet." You whisper. You slowly cup him and gasp softly. Even through the thick, fancy suit pants, he's warm. So, so warm and heavy. "Poor thing." Your tone turns teasing once more. His jaw is slack. Opened limply as he moans and tries his best to stay still for you. "You're so hard. How long have you been needing this, hm?"
Tenya shudders when your hand squeezes. He's thick and he bucks weakly into your hand. "So long." He finally spoke.
His hands raise and grip desperately onto your shoulder and one of your thighs. His nails dig in and he whispers a quiet apology before finding your lips again. He whines and your tongue dives into his mouth. It welcomes you, his tongue lazily greeting yours.
He's already close. You're only running your hand up and down the tent. Squeezing at what you think is his tip and then palming him. He's so sensitive. His whole body jolts at what seems like every touch. His mouth turns messy against your lips and you know it's coming. Drool seeps down his chin and you lean over the center console. Your hand continues to rub and paw at his cock while he moans against you.
"You're so close, Tenya. I can feel you twitching in there." You cooed. Your hand cups him and slowly slides up and down along him. His cheeks are so red, you can see them even in the minimal light given by the nearby light posts. "Come on, pretty. Come for me."
The man does as you say, like it’s programmed into his brain.
Tenya's head falls onto your shoulder. His hips buck up and into your hand. Soft cries escape his pretty lips. He pants. Blinks hard. You feel him soften slightly in his pants and your hand stills. You keep it there. Let him feel you.
"Th-Thank you." He whispered. You can barely hear his words through his heavy breathing. The poor man twitches under your hand and you grin.
"'Thank you'?" Your head cocks to the side and his slowly lifts from your shoulder. He nods gently and you smile. The smile sends heat straight down to his groin. He knows what that smile means. "You still feel so heavy..." Your hand shifts just slightly and his whole body shudders. "Are you sure you don't want more?"
Tenya stares wide-eyed at you. He thought you would be done after that, having gotten your fill of ruining your sweet assistant. He finally musters up enough strength anywhere else than his cock to speak. "I-I'll take as much as you give me, ma'am."
You snapped at that. Your lips were back on his in an instant and he reciprocated just as fast. You both leaned in, smushing your chests and your faces together. It still wasn't enough. You needed to be closer. It seemed Tenya felt the same way, his hands gently tugging you until you let him lift you over the center console and into his lap. He released you once you were there. Let you put your hands on his chest and push him back against the seat.
His chest heaved with each breath. Quick and labored with the effort of holding back. Of being your good, perfect assistant and letting you do as you pleased with him.
You stared down at him, your breath just as fast as his. Finally, you decided. You leaned in first and pressed your lips to his. The kiss was hungry. It wasn't gentle and savory like the first ones. You were both so hot and needy. He opened his mouth wider when you teased your tongue across his bottom lip. His mouth stayed open when you eventually pulled back to breathe. He waited for your next move. Silent. So patient. So ready to do whatever you needed.
"Take off your shirt."
His hands moved instantly at your order. His long, skilled fingers made easy work of the buttons. With it undone, you slide it easily down the back of his shoulders. Your hands soon found his belt. Your fingers danced over the leather and he was quick to get the hint.
"Allow me."
You watched intently as he undid the buckle and pulled it from the loops of his pants. His cock was hard already, straining heavily against the material. You tutted softly and ran your finger over the arched tent. His hands curled around the seat, knuckles white. You watched his Adam's apple bob steadily when you reached for the button of the pants. You bit your lip as you pulled the zipper down, your excitement obvious. He lifted his hips, helping you shimmy his suit pants down to the middle of his thighs.
With his pants down, you could see the mess he'd made in his boxers. You giggled as he tried to hide his face against your shoulder. You ran your finger over his clothed and sticky shaft and he shivered, arms wrapping around your waist.
"Is this okay?" You whispered, hand tugging gently at the hem of his boxers. He nodded into your shoulder and you sighed. "Come on, Tenya. You have such a smart mouth. Why don't you use it, hm?"
He shivered and lifted his head. He let out a shaky breath and let his head back against the seat. "Yes." He whispered. One of his hands raised and guided your lips to his for another kiss. "This situation we have gotten ourselves into i-is immoral. And wrong. And so, so bad..." He ended each sentence with another peck. "But, yes. I am okay with it. P-Please, continue."
"There's my boy."
Tenya's eyes met yours at the praise. He nodded and tried his best not to whine when you tugged his boxers down his cock. He bunched the hem of your dress up in his hands until he could see the deep red panties you wore. They matched the color of your lipstick, which was no doubt on his lips too. His fingers slid over the edge of them, below your belly button, and to your hip. He leaned in and pressed a kiss to the space there, then a couple to your stomach.
"You're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen," Tenya whispered against your skin. You shivered at the feeling of his warm breath. A hand buried in his hair and he could almost sense your mouth opening to object. "Don't try and say you're not. You'd be lying, ma'am."
You giggled at his words. His lips moved up and he pushed your dress over your head. He groaned softly at the sight and his hips bucked against your pretty panties. Your bra was lacy and nearly see-through. He gently pulled the bra cup down. Just enough to lick at your bud. He moaned louder than you did and it was your nipple. You almost laughed again, but were interrupted when your other was quickly caught between his fingers.
"F-Fuck..."
Your strained whisper brought a lazy smile to his face. He watched your face pinken and the tips of your ears go red. You were just as needy as him. Just better at hiding it. He felt a spark of pride light in his chest at the fact he was able to bring it out of you.
Your fingers nudged your panties to the side and the tip of his cock brushed against your heat. You both jolted like you'd been shot. Your arms wrapped around each other and quiet gasps fell from each of your lips when the head slid in. You were so wet, it wasn't much work. You tugged at his hair as you eased yourself down, tugging a little harder each time his hips bucked weakly into you.
Tenya whispered into the crook of your neck. "Y-You feel so good." His words were almost slurred against your skin. His usual polite tone was replaced by a lazy slowness, his mind too preoccupied with your cunt to keep up.
"You gonna come?" Your hand wrapped under his chin, forcing his lolling eyes to meet yours. He tightened his grip on your thighs and tugged you closer, chests pressing together. You knew he was close. His hips stuttered desperately up into you, no pace or rhythm behind them. "You’re so close. I can f-feel it.” He nodded into your hand and his glasses slid down on his nose. You giggled and pushed them back up as you pressed your lips to his. “Come on, Tenya.” Your words were muffled against his lips. “N-Now.”
Your order sent a shudder down his spine. He curled against you. Eyes scrunched shut. His face pressed hard into your shoulder. You wrapped around each other as the pleasure washed over you both.
Tenya followed your words so easily. Obediently. Just like he always had. Your perfect assistant.
pixelskylines
romaincrisis
