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yawnetu · 8 days
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hey boss i can't come in today it's a sunny day and there's a lovely breeze coming in through my window, yeah it's rustling the branches of the tree outside that's finally bloomed so it's pretty serious
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yawnetu · 10 days
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More puppies!
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yawnetu · 16 days
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Little Gift- Tremble
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Pairing: Soft Dark Neteyam x Fem Human Reader
Little Gift Masterlist
Beautiful adult Neteyam pic by @cinetrix2
Summary: This is your last chance to run.
Warnings: aged up Neteyam, NSFW minors do not interact, dark Neteyam, NONCON/DUBCON, spanking, dirty talk, punishment, size difference, etc.
A/N: This one took a little longer than intended with all the life stuff going on, but yay it's here. Also, migt have gotten a little carried away with this part.
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The outpost feels like a relic of a different time. One that you have only heard of in stories, but now seeing those worn down bunk beds and the corner of a room that Spider calls his own, it doesn’t feel as glorious. The worst part, however, is how naked you feel around other humans. It’s only a slight comfort that Spider is wearing Na’vi apparel too. 
“Oh and yeah and this is a spear I made in Awalatuu.” Spider says. “But maybe let’s move it out of the way.” He gives an awkward chuckle but it’s obvious that his only concern is you suddenly deciding to use it against him. 
Your arrival at the outpost had been anything but graceful. In hindsight you would have preferred to meet these people face to face instead of over Neteyam’s shoulder. 
“If you want we can uh….watch a movie. Oh yeah I bet I could swipe Norm’s Star Wars collection.” 
You don’t return the smile he gives you, too busy awkwardly sitting on his bed while pouting. You never thought it would feel strange to be back in a place like this but after being around the Na’vi for the past week, the outpost feels like walking into a rundown dollhouse. Everything is your size and nothing is as beautifully crafted as Neteyam’s kelku. 
The awkward silence is slightly painful but you can’t find it within yourself to feel bad for Spider. Not when he hasn’t shown even a morsel of sympathy for your situation. Your own kind and not even they find it important to get you out of here. Not that they could anyways. No doubt Neteyam would view such actions as a betrayal. 
“He wouldn’t let you come along, huh?” You finally ask. 
Spider stops digging through the worn down hard drives. 
“Who?” 
“Neteyam. Didn’t want you coming to see the RDA off either?” 
Spider scoffs at the, leaving the tech behind to cross the small room. 
“I wouldn’t say that. I’m not the one he’s worried about getting into trouble.” 
Spider may not have heightened senses like the Na’vi but you worry that he sees the way your hands ball around the thin blankets.
“So Lo’ak handed the role of babysitter off to you somehow.” You lean back against the cold wall, trying to appear bored by the conversation. 
“Just for today. He was clear that I would only be a substitute.” 
Your brows furrow at that. Maybe Lo’ak doesn’t mind watching over you as much as he lets on. Then again Lo’ak never fails to find your company amusing, and for all the wrong reasons. Some days you wonder if Neteyam would really be cross with you for slapping his brother across the face. Maybe if you batted your lashes and played it off as self defense….
“Well I’m sorry you can’t be there.” 
It’s Spider’s turn to look confused. 
“Why?” 
“Colonel Quaritch is your dad, isn’t he?” 
“That asshole is nothing close to a father.” Spider’s jaw clenches, posturing already shifting to loom over you. He may be human but his six foot frame of striped muscle greatly outweighs your own. 
“Oh trust me, I know. Quaritch has been nothing but a tyrant my entire life. I honestly don’t know how he managed to get back into General Ardmore’s good graces after half the stunts he has pulled. That’s why I was excited for today. Finally see that bastard put in his place.” Spider watches you closely. In some ways it feels like all he is missing he ears and tail of a Na’vi.
“Thought maybe you would want to see that too.” 
You know a good deal about Spider Soccoro. He is a story that is often shared among the recombinants but never in Quaritch’s presence. Many tales have been told of the feral stripped boy that was more trouble than worth. You wonder if the stories would have been different if he hadn’t chosen the Sullys in the end. Still, even with their biased filters you know that they put Spider through hell. 
Kidnapping is traumatic enough without having to watch islands burn and friends cry for justice. 
“I don’t care what happens to that bastard.” Spider huffs before promptly turning around and fishing through the hard drives once more. You’ve killed the already strained mood. 
“Well then you’re a better person than me. Good for you.” Spider doesn’t answer but you can tell he is listening. 
A bitter laugh escapes you. “Hell, I’ve only had to put up with him from a distance and I would ring his neck myself if given the chance.” 
Spider’s fingers fiddle with a blue hard drive, eyes staring down thoughtfully. 
“But I guess I should trust Neteyam to give him what he deserves. Watch that monster tuck his tail and accept his failure for what it is.”  It’s the one cause you consider Neteyam and yourself on the same side of. 
Leaning back, you prop your feet up onto the creaky mattress. 
“Yeah.” He says shortly. 
“Ugh don’t get me started on Lyle though-”
“What are you trying to do?” Spider springs to his feet, glaring daggers down at you. 
“What do-”
“Do you think I’m really that stupid? Neteyam told me you would do this. Trying to spin a story that would allow you to escape.” 
You swallow the lump in your throat. You’re startled by the outburst to say the least but at this point there is nothing to lose. This man you only met fifteen minutes ago is the difference between spending the rest of your days here and returning back to Earth. Neteyam’s punishments are far from being enough to deter you from taking this chance. 
“I’m sorry I wasn’t trying to-”
“Would it kill you to just stay out of trouble for this one day? For my sake?” The look he gives you is anything but tender in comparison to his words. 
The bitter taste of impending failure is already settling in. You can already feel the immense weight of this dread and it springs you into action. This can’t be the end. 
It won’t be. 
“Can you really blame me though? For wanting to say goodbye to everything and everyone I have ever known?” 
Spider goes quiet, hazel eyes suddenly avoiding your own gaze. 
“Believe whatever you want but the fact is this day will never repeat. This is literal history and…” You voice quivers, blunt teeth sinking into your bottom lip in restraint. The last barrier to holding the words back. “The last glimpse at my old life.” 
You don’t allow the gravity of those whispered words to plant themselves. This is all a ruse after all. Just enough sadness to get Spider to cooperate and yet saying it out loud feels like tying an anchor to your ankle. Truly realizing how stuck you may be from here on out. 
Spider doesn’t say anything for a long while. Neither of you look at each other, letting the silence sizzle between you. 
And then finally….
“We have to be quick.”
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“And no touching anything. I mean it, shit out here can be extremely poisonous.” Spider rattles on, listing yet another rule to follow as the two of you venture through the thick terrain. You roll your eyes. You may not be a match for the creatures of Pandora physically but you’ve studied enough to understand what to stay away from.
“We’re there for five minutes tops, got it?” Spider says as he pushes a hanging branch out of your path. 
“Yes sir.” You salute him playfully. Now that you are less than a mile away from Bridgehead a certain giddiness begins to take over. It swirls together with your nerves and apprehension but it doesn’t deter you. This is the closest you have been to freedom in a week. 
Eywa’s mightiest creatures could not keep you from your goal. 
Years down the road when you wake up from kyro this will all be some awful dream that embeds itself into your revenge arch. Starting with Miles Quaritch of course. 
“I’m being serious. Neteyam will kill me if he sees you out here. I’m sticking my neck out for you.” 
“It will be worth it.” You say simply, a skip in your step when you recognize the familiar path that leads back to Bridgehead. This the same one you had carved deeper with every trip you had taken to your oasis. Looking back there is nothing more you regret but the sight of it still makes you smile. 
Spider never stops his stern rambling. Despite the fact that he is built like a Greek God, his speeches do little to intimidate you. Not when you’re used to nine feet of solid muscle and sharp canines. 
There is a bank that overhangs Bridgehead. A spot that Spider deems the perfect lookout for the two of you. You consider trying to convince him to get the two of you closer. After all, what good is a farewell that can’t be heard? Truth is, there really aren’t many people you would bother trying to say goodbye to. Jeremy moved on from you months ago, you have very little friends outside of that and what little you did have can be nothing but traitors by letting you get offered up without complaint. 
It feels like a risky move, however. Spider is sure to catch wind of your deception at the first hints of you disobeying.
“Here,” Spider mutters, suddenly pulling your arm so you stand directly in front of him. This leaves you sandwiched between the cliff’s edge and Spider’s tall frame. 
“Hey!” You snip at him, ripping your arm from his hold. 
“This way I can keep a close eye on you.” He smirks, hands resting confidently on his hips because he knows as well as you that his physical prowess greatly outweighs your own. It’s clear his trust is far from being earned. 
“Well do you have to breathe down my neck? Christ! I could use some space.” 
“No chance.” Spider responds shortly but his eyes are already scanning the crowd of RDA members below. 
“Neteyam doesn’t really take kindly to others sniffing around me.” 
You hate to play that card but it seems to be the only one you have in your deck and if you have any chance of getting out of here, Spider can’t be pressed up against you. A harsh glare is thrown down at you but with knitted brows and a fierce frown, the male takes a few steps back. It isn’t much, surely his presence will still be your first obstacle, but it’s a start. 
Every minute that passes by feels like torture. You watch as palettes of heavy equipment and artillery are rolled along the concrete with Na’vi supervising. Each one packed away is a signal of passing time, another stream of sand that falls through your hourglass of opportunity. The real nerves, however, kick in when the line of RDA members are escorted onto the ship. 
How long is it going to take them to load everyone?
How long until your hopes are dashed?
You spot Neteyam taking his place at the head. He is dressed up in his traditional Olo’eyktan gear completely with a feathered mantle and oval forehead jewelry, but this time he holds a gun. He holds it with confidence, finger strategically placed over the barrel and ready to strike at a moment’s notice. His golden eyes spark today like fire. Even from your lookout spot from above, you can feel that darting heat. 
You pray that they never fall on you again. 
Spider shifts over your shoulder suddenly, blonde dreads ticking your neck. You scramble out of his space but instead of jerking you into place as you expect, he takes your spot at the front. Brows knitting together, you watch him carefully as he crawls forward. 
Finally you spot what has captured his undivided attention. 
Colonel Miles Quaritch sternly leads his band of mutants through the crowd. They tower so high over the rest of the Sky People the sight is almost comedic. However, Spider is doing anything but laughing. His mask fogs up as he watches the scene with intensity. 
It’s like he is dead to the world, eyes trained on the man that has been anything but a father to him. 
You expect him to cheer, snarl, anything that shouts of victory. It was promises of seeing karma after all that had bought you this outing but Spider is silent and still. And then there is something else that flashes over his demeanor, a pang of emotion that is hard for you to place. 
Pain?
Hatred? 
Guilt? 
This swirl of tangled feelings is confusing.
Perhaps there is still so much more to learn about Spider Socorro. 
Regardless, this is your chance and you plan to take it. Tension bleeding into the moment you watch Spider diligently while beginning to back away. It feels as if the world’s ambience has been muffled into background noise and the only sound breaking through is the obnoxious puff of each breath through your mask. Neteyam hadn’t given you the serum shot this morning, assuming you would be spending the whole day in the outpost. Now, however, you wish he had. 
Spider is so enveloped in the moment, however, that he gives no recognition of the sound or even branch you clumsily snap when backing down from the cliff’s edge. 
There is no telling how long this trance will last or at what point you will be out of ear shot so you risk it all. 
Bare feet tingling in protest, you race across the forest floor. There’s no sign of an easy and stealthy way down into Bridgehead. Going back down your normal path would risk Spider spotting you race by. That’s not an option but neither is falling to your death. On the east side the cliff shallows out into a grassy hill. If you’re lucky enough you might just be able to creep down it and remain hidden beneath the heavy greenery. 
Upon reaching it, however, you step on loose dirt and the world rapidly spins around you. With neither a hint of grace or stealth you clumsily roll down the hill. Your muscles ache by the time you clunk to the bottom and you’re sure there are other injuries to be found. Adrenaline dulling the pain and panic, you dart to hide in the nearest bush instantly. 
The scene is so much louder now that you are up close. Heavy trucks make blaring beeping sounds while reversing and Na’vi freely let out loose cries of victory and foreign threats. The commotion is just enough to have your presence remain undetected. 
You don’t bank on that lasting for long though.
Your scanty traditional Na’vi attire is sure to draw attention. You need different clothes and you need it fast. Scaling around the outskirts of the chaos, you miraculously manage to make it to that familiar run down door. Sector two-your building. 
Paranoia constantly scraping at your attention, you barely let the room equalize before ripping your mask off. These hallways feel so different than you remember them. Perhaps it is the feel of the metal floors beneath bare feet or the lacking furniture and crowd. It sends a chill up your spine as you sprint towards your room. 
How much time do you have?
They can’t have loaded more than half of the crew by now.
And yet, the sight of deserted halls makes your feet slap against the floor faster. 
Get dressed. Immerse yourself in the crowd. Hide until take off is through and then find a kyro capsule.
You mentally check through this list. 
Piece of cake. 
Maybe saying it out loud would make it sound less like a fool’s hope. 
Fuck it. The odds don’t matter and neither do your nerves. This is a necessity, pure survival and that will be enough to keep you going. It will because it has to. 
Your feet slip across the laminated floor when you frantically scramble to go back the way you came. Two tall and ominous shadows wrap from around the opposite corner and you are afforded just enough time to dart behind a wall before Lyle and Z Dawg appear. 
“You’re an idiot.” She says. 
“Yeah yeah say whatever you want but don’t pretend like you wouldn’t rip someone in half for a Big Mac right now.” Lyle defends himself, their shadows now paint the dimly lit corridor, stretching closer and closer to your tucked away spot.
You could run, but these are recombinants. They would pick up the sound of your footsteps in an instant. The wind from your sprint would carry your scent. 
“Sure, but I asked what your first meal back on Earth would be, not what your guilty pleasure fast food order is.” 
“These savages can keep their overgrown weeded garden of a planet. I want some fucking chicken nuggets!” 
As their voices become louder it appears that running will be your only choice after all. 
“I don’t even know why I ask at this point.” She sighs and a short hiss echoes down the hallway. 
You swallow the lump in your throat, feet repositioning as you prepare yourself to run. If you were smart you would have already been halfway down the hallway at this point but some part of you refuses to move. It clings to hope foolishly. 
“Well I’m sure-”
“Shut up asshole. The comm.” Z Dawg hisses and they both turn silent, no doubt listening to the orders on the other end. 
Your hands are shaking now, that tremor traveling up your shoulders as you await their response. 
“Copy that.” Lyle says and then the sound of heavy boots recedes into the distance. 
You can hardly believe your luck. 
That dark cloud of dread ripples away and hope takes its place once more. Maybe you can pull this off after all. 
Your room is exactly as you left it. No one has bothered to pack up any of your things or even dispose of your half folded laundry. This tiny corner of a shared living space has been your own for your whole life, everything you have known. It feels so small now. 
Rifling through the laundry basket you find a loose green tee and a pair of  tan shorts. You originally had a whole outfit planned for this day, something comfortable but nice. Those garments are, however, still crumpled up on the ground. This will have to do. 
As you hastily slip them over the beaded jewelry and tewng you pray to whatever god will listen that this will be enough to keep you incognito. You are barely finished buttoning up the shorts when heavy footsteps ring down the hallway. 
Their echo is soft, no doubt still several halls away but they are progressively getting louder. Now is not the time to take any more risks. This room is tiny and already cramped with scattered junk. Hiding under your bed would not only be idiotic but near impossible with the way your creaky bed  swoopes so low to the ground. There is, however, an old built-in cabinet above that you’ve used to hold your clothes. 
It’s just barely big enough for you to squeeze into so with those footsteps getting louder and your own terror sky rocketing, you push everything out of it and shove your body into the metal space. The door has metal slots with just enough slant to allow your visual through it. 
Your clammy right hand presses over your mouth when the door to the room creaks open.
Neteyam strolls in leisurely, eyes sweeping over the cramped space with interest. With wide eyes and strangled lungs, you watch him prowl through the area slowly. He bends down to run his fingers over the rumbled sheets, the back of his hand lingers over your pillow case. 
He takes his time looking through the various knick knacks and cords littering your night stand. He doesn’t hesitate to ball the old picture of Jeremy into his fists. Its remains are tossed to the side without care. 
Did he toss the real Jeremy like that?
You make a vow to find him as soon as you make it on board. 
Assuming Neteyam hasn’t already hunted him down. 
You could look for whatever is left of Jeremy.
You can’t think about that now, though. Not as your heart is pounding against your ribs like a bird trying to escape a cage. Not when Neteyam lifts his mask for a sip of air as he plays with your tiny music box. 
He is gentle with all of your belongings, roaming through the area like a man that doesn’t have hundreds of Sky People to threaten off of his planet. Surely, he will have to leave soon. He’s just here out of curiosity, more of his stalker tendencies pushing him to invade your space. 
The music box looks like a Christmas ornament in his palm and you worry that he will accidently crush it. It was a pain in the ass to get and a possession you have always treasured because of that. Neteyam’s ears push forward when he finally figures out how to start the music and that delicate ballerina begins to twirl. 
“Maybe it’s all of your silly trinkets.” He breaks the silence, you startle slightly. He can’t be talking to you, you remind yourself. Neteyam thinks he is alone, just nosing through your old room as he thinks out loud. “Is that what you miss so much? What has you running off and acting naughty, little gift?” 
He’s bluffing. There is no way he could know you are here. Your scent has to be strong in the room but that’s to be expected since this was your living space. Ironically this should be the perfect place to hide away. 
“You know,” He starts, carefully placing the music box back down. “I was planning on letting you bring some of these funny things back to our kelku once you start behaving. A little incentive to be my good girl.” 
The knot in your throat is near impossible to gulp down and when you do, his ears twitch. You don’t want to believe it. How did he find you? You tug your legs closer to your chest as if you can contort yourself into a small enough ball that will magically disappear. 
“But it’s obvious now that you respond better to retribution than reward.” 
It’s a miracle that your lip doesn’t split from how hard your teeth press into it. Neteyam may not be able to track your scent here but the smell of blood would be a dead giveaway. All signs point to being caught but you aren’t ready to hand over the last shreds of hope yet. Neteyam doesn’t know about the cabinet. He’s bluffing about knowing you are here. No one has seen you. 
“We can revisit the idea of a reward system later, pet.” 
The muscles in your legs are cramping beyond relief, begging you to stretch out. You don’t heed these discomforts, too paralyzed by the proximity of your captor. Neteyam on the other hand appears deceivingly content and relaxed, rummaging through your things as if he has all the time in the world. 
He carefully opens your nightstand drawer and those hairless eyebrows raise immediately. The bras are tossed to the side with the same care as the picture but then tiny little lace fabric hangs from his fingers. It’s far from your greatest problem but your cheeks heat anyways when he carefully observes your light purple panties. 
Out of all the drawers to open it seems that Neteyam knows just the one to torment you with. 
“Then again,” The Olo’eyktan smirks. “These are quite cute.” And this time instead of inhaling from the respirator he soaks in the scent from the small fabric instead. Your thighs clench together. 
“Wouldn’t mind having my little tawtute model these for me.” He hums, while pulling out several more pairs. He tucks them away safely in a small pouch attached to his loincloth. “That is, once I finally get rid of this rebellious streak of yours.” 
You allow yourself a small sigh when Neteyam goes around to the other side of the bed, just enough distance for you to breathe properly. 
“Time to come out, little gift.” He squats down onto his haunches, prowling across the floor like a predator on track. He must be searching for you and if that is true then you may still have a chance yet. Neteyam may think you are in here but he doesn’t know where exactly. 
Thoughts race through your mind at a thousand miles per minute. They twist and twirl to find some way that you could get out of this situation unscathed. The doorway is visible through the slanted slits of the cupboard. With the proper footing you may be able to close that distance with a courageous leap. And maybe, just maybe that would be enough to catch Neteyam off guard and give you a head start. 
You make one fatal mistake, however. 
If there is one thing a good prey knows to do, it is to keep sight of their predator at all times. 
Your feet don’t even get the chance to hit the ground, instead dangling and thrashing once you are caught with a strong hold around your waist. Hoping is waning but disappointment sprouts into increased vigor as your nails digging into his arms and legs struggle to kick back at him. 
“YOU MOTHERFUCK-” Your cursing slings into a shriek when Neteyam grabs a fistful of your hair and uses it to strongly crane your head backwards. His golden eyes are dilated until only a thin rim of molten gold is visible. The weight of his angry gaze takes your breath away. 
“Enough.” He enunciates the word, like a drawn sword ready to slash. “Listen closely, pet.” The lump in your throat goes down with a strained gulp. “There is not an inch of this Sky Demon hell hole or corner of this planet that you can run to without being drawn back to me. You are mine and I’ve done well to mark my property.” The fingers intertwined in your hair tickle over the back of your neck, no doubt leaving the trail of his scent behind. “You reek of me.” 
Tears gather at the corner of your eyes and you flutter them closed to avoid his burning attention. 
“As you should.” His voice rumbles as nothing more than a growl against the nape of your neck. 
“I never asked for this!” Your fighting dimms down to nothing more than squirming as gritting the choked words out sucks your energy away. Before you can do anything to stop it, tears blaze trails down your cheeks. “Just let me go! Please!” 
“Quiet, pet.” 
Another yank to your hair and the words die on your lips. It’s clear now that the time for fun and games is over. Neteyam wastes no time in throwing you onto the creaky mattress and covering your body with his own until he becomes a shadow blocking out the fluorescent light above. His thighs straddle your waist, putting just enough weight down to keep you in place. 
“No more tears.” He sighs, with down turned lips, but doesn’t pause his bunching of your tee shirt. “It’s clear I’ve been spoiling you too much.” 
A broken grasp is pulled from your throat when he easily tears the shirt straight down the middle. You’re not sure what you are trying to accomplish as you swat at his working hands. The shirt was neither your favorite nor of great importance but you still try to stop the onslaught of ripping. 
Confused and overwhelmed you squirm as he rips it into wide ribbons of fabric and then without warning you are flipped onto your stomach. You scramble to crawl away but Neteyam’s plants a foot on your ass and that is unfortunately all it takes to pin you down. Your hands are snatched next, forced together behind your back as the ripped stripes of your own shirt are used as makeshift rope to tie your wrists together. 
Something about him using your own personal clothing to keep you bound for him has your legs kicking out fiercely. It won’t do much damage even if you manage to hit him, but there needs to be an outlet for your anger. You need to feel like there is still some wreckage for you to inflict. The last tiny shred of power that you cling to for dear life. 
Neteyam isn’t in the mood to put up with your outbursts. Much like a fresh kill from his hunting trips he keeps you pinned and makes quick work of binding you imobile. The action is so well rehearsed and instinctual in fact that he already moves on to his next task of destroying your shorts. 
Shrieks and small clawing fingers are simply background ambience for the Olo’eyktan as he works. Surprisingly the small tawtute sized Na’vi clothing is not exempt from the male’s destructive hands. They too become nothing more than rolling beads and scraps of fabric falling to the floor. 
Your string of bloody curses are only temporarily interrupted by your own gasp when Neteyam takes a seat on the bed and throws you over his knee in one swift move. Kicking is no longer an option for your rage when he swings one leg over both of yours. Blood rushes to your head but even dizziness can’t stop your violent outrage. 
However, it appears a cracking smack to your upturned ass can. 
The pain doesn’t ripple forward until a few moments after your shock has subsided. Neteyam has always had creative ways of punishing you but this is different. You’d figured that he would never lay a hand on you after all that he has droned on and on about how important it is to protect a fragile thing like you. 
But another hit accompanies the first and this time you can’t hold back your small squeak. 
“Just as I thought.” He spanks you again, his hand mercilessly hitting both cheeks with every strike. “You’ve been practically begging for a firmer hand.” The cry that the next rapid three slaps pull from you is one that you don’t recognize. 
“Pretty little things like you still struggle to remember their place.” 
“Stop! Stop!” You shriek, trapped legs still fruitlessly sprawling for escape. 
“Don’t worry, little gift.” He squeezes one of your pink cheeks after this last spank. “That’s what I am here for. I won’t let your silly little tawtute tendencies keep you away from me.” 
It doesn’t take long for the color of your backside to match your face as the blood drains to your head. Neteyam is persistent, hardly batting an eye at your cries and shrieks. From cursing to death threats, none of your spewed venom makes him flinch. If anything you manage to catch his small smirk when you twist to glare up at him. You don’t make that mistake again when you find this behavior only rewards you with condescending coos from the Na’vi. 
“That’s a good girl. Let all those nasty words go.” He purrs, heavy hand never letting up on your poor bottom. 
It’s this praise that has your mouth clamping shut. You hold back any and every sound you can as your ass takes a beating. Which is not a lot when the Na’vi male has unfathomable strength and your backside already feels like flames could erupt from it at any moment. 
“Oh pet, I’ve hardly even touched you and you’re already blushing so pretty for me.” Neteyam hums in delight, hand roaming over your burning ass like an art piece just waiting to be admired properly. 
Hardly even touched you?
Is this just his way of being an ass or are you truly that far from the finish line?
You jolt when one finger slips between the crack of your cheeks, teasing over your hole gently. A sound caught between a scream and whimper erupts from you without thought. Bound hands flatten and flail to cover the untouched area but Neteyam simply chuckles and lets his own hand retreat. 
“Mawey, tiyawn.” Neteyam pats your backside softly, almost in a casual reassuring manner. “Another day.” 
It’s hard to say what is more humiliating. Being bound and turned over the Olo’eyktan’s knee like a naughty child or the wetness trickling from your pussy at the feel of his teasing fingers in a place you’ve never dared let anyone else explore before. 
Pain is a great distraction from your humiliation. So much so that it eventually motivates you to dash pride to the side and begin your pleading. 
“A-ah Neteyam! I’m sorry! I’m sorry…eh-ah I-I’ll be good!” It’s not even clear what you are trying to say anymore. Your mouth runs on autopilot, throwing out any line of remorse in hopes of one doing the job. “I ngh-ah didn’t mean to! I won’t run! Can’t take anymo- ah! Neteyam!” 
He reigns his hits to warm the underside of your thighs too, moving between that vulnerable area and your ass in such an erratic way that it is impossible to anticipate where the next will land. 
Plea after plea is thrown out but resembles nothing more than garbled desperation, nothing that can pass as a full sentence.
However, one call catches his attention.
“Olo’eyktan please!” 
The sound of slapping skin stops. 
Tears continue to plunge down your cheeks even without the constant spanking, your ass burns and tingles in shock. The tuft of his tail poruses over your naked thighs, sending a sensation both painful and ticklish. 
“Repeat, pet.” 
“Wha-what?” You stammer, voice thick with tears. 
“What did you say?” That large hand comes down once more like a crack of lightning. 
“AH! Olo’eyktan O-Olo’eyktan please please please. No more no more!” 
He smooths over your knotted hair, pushing it away from your sweaty temple and tear stained face. It’s tempting to look away from his soft gaze but intuition tells you to let him see the trembling state he has left you in. Let him witness how pitiful and distraught a simple spanking has made you be. 
“I….I’m sorry, Olo’eyktan.” 
Neteyam smiles like one would at a lover, a tender pride lacing his lips. 
“You’re learning, pet.”
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Putting batteries in that small remote was a mistake. A ridiculous useless mistake that now leaves you standing on shaky legs. The pink vibrator that has resided in your nightstand drawer dutifully on hand for years is now the source of your torment. 
Well, maybe not the source per say. 
No, the true origin of this humiliation stares back at you with knowing eyes and swatting tail, his large hand making that tiny remote look like a children’s toy. The vibrator buzzes inside of you on the lowest setting, but that relief can only last for so long with the way Neteyam enjoys jumping between the different levels. 
Every last shredded piece of your Na’vi and human clothing lays back on the floor of your old bedroom. The only savior of your decency is Neteyam’s cloak that he had thrown around your shoulders. With the size difference this cloak acts more like a dress and therefore gives you more coverage than you’ve had in a week yet somehow leaves you feeling more vulnerable than ever before. Trembling fingers never stray from the seams of the cloak, keeping it wrapped around you tightly as the crowds of humans and Na’vi continue to pass you. 
Neteyam has left you with one of the other Na’vi warriors but never out of his sight. It’s a miracle that your hands were cut loose in the first place but perhaps that is another sick joke the Olo’eyktan plays on you. He knows that you won’t run. He knows you can’t run. His attention and promised consequences for misbehavior are more than enough to keep you tucked in his pocket. 
That and of course his control over the rippling vibrations that torture your pussy. 
The nearest warrior is sure to be noticing your frazzled state by now. At least he has the decency to hide his interest, unlike another Na’vi that watched from the sidelines. Lo’ak, leaned against one of the hoverships like it’s a random Tuesday afternoon, watches with a small smirk and perked ears. If Neteyam notices, he doesn’t seem to have a problem with it because Lo’ak is left unbothered in his ogling. 
The tempo increases, the vibrator now picking a pattern of random pulses that bash against your sweet spot. Bottom lip bleeding now from your biting, it’s a struggle to keep your moans at bay. With the heavy machinery moving and hundreds of Na’vi and humans passing surely there must be enough noise to block out any degrading sounds you make. But you can’t take that risk. You’ve made the mistake of underestimating the Na’vi’s enhanced hearing before and that is what has landed you here. 
Neteyam twirls the tiny remote between his fingers like a fidget toy as another Na’vi warrior comes to report. 
You start to commiserate the loss of that ridiculous human sized loincloth Neteyam made you because at least then there was some fabric barrier to hide your wetness. Now, the thick Pandoran air runs up the cloak and over your soaked thighs and cunt. It reminds you constantly how pathetic you have become as orgasm after orgasm has escaped your grip. Even worse it reminds you how easy it is to carry that aroused scent through the breeze for all Na’vi to detect. At that rate, worrying about your noises is the least of your concerns. 
Lo’ak reloads the machine gun with practiced hands, moving with muscle memory so he can continue to stare and send silent messages your way. No doubt he is theorizing on what exactly his brother has done to diminish you to such a state. His eyes dance with those ideas, the little quirk of his lips telling you just how creative and vial his thoughts have turned. 
Another level up and this time it is Neteyam’s eyes that have you squirming. Your impending orgasm coils tighter and tighter with every passing second and you're so desperate to find some way to release this energy that your bare feet begin fidgeting against the concrete. It’s almost like a little dance, one that has Lo’ak laughing under his breath. 
It stops.
You breathe. 
There is some sort of commotion off in the distance. Not one that you can truly pin down the source of but you do notice the way Neteyam nods as a Na’vi female says something to him. With a wave she is dismissed and then the Olo’eyktan saunters off. Although slightly worried over the trouble, you are grateful for the respite. 
And then a nightmare unfurls before your eyes.
Instead of marching to the issue, Neteyam takes a pit stop to converse with his younger brother. Lo’ak’s tail whips in the wind at whatever is whispered in his ear but the real horror comes when that traitor of a remote is handed over to the younger Sully male. 
You are seconds away from stomping over there and crushing that pink little weapon before the other male can wield it. However, your dutiful guard places a hand on your shoulder after just one step. His eyes remain locked forward but the warning is enough as his hand retreats. You are still being watched. 
With one last glance your way, Neteyam has the audacity to give you, his little pet, a warm smile before leaving you in the hands of his brother. 
Lo’ak swings the gun around to his back in favor of playing with his new toy. Every dark and viscous fiber left within you is channeled into the glare you give him. It should say everything that your lips can not.
Don’t you dare.
Don’t you fucking dare. 
Now would be a good time to look into Na’vi curses, anything you could betrix upon him for what he is about to do, because of course Lo’ak won’t back down. If anything that fire in your eyes lights his own delight and has him sitting down and bracing forward. Forearms resting on his thighs he clocks your every movement.
This is sure to be the best entertainment the bastard has had in a long time. 
He savors the passing moments of anticipation. Never backing down from the ultimate seething looks you give him. Finally a crash sounds and that distraction is right when Lo’ak sets the vibrator to high. From zero to one hundred, pleasure rackets through you like a shock wave. The force is so much that it temporarily makes you stumble on your feet. The other guard wordlessly steadies you back into place. 
Lo’ak’s grin is feral. 
This silent battle slips between your fingers so quickly it is hard to comprehend, because all that can register in your brain is how fast you are hurtling towards an orgasm. After Neteyam’s denial your body is high strung and ready to take any sensation as fuel to push you over the edge. Nails digging into the soft fabric of Neteyam’s cloak, pleasure rockets higher and higher until only the whites of your eyes are visible. 
Knees bowing inward, ecstasy is finally yours. 
There isn’t enough energy left to question why Lo’ak let you reach your high. Instead you focus on riding that wave while simultaneously keeping upright. 
That persistent buzzing against your sweet spot continues until your nerves are short circuiting. The pleasure turns to overstimulation and you give Lo’ak a look that alerts him of this change. 
His amusement tells you that he already knows your predicament but his thumb remains far from the off button. 
Pathetic noises now bubble up your throat without restraint as pleasure ebbs into pain. It switches back and forth until another release is on the verge of consuming your being. The guard next to you doesn’t say anything when he helps to sit on the cold ground. 
The second orgasm has a bitter taste to it but your greedy pussy clenches around the toy all the same. It’s almost too bad that Neteyam decided not to gag you because at least that would muffle your cries as you rock down onto the toy. Lo’ak gulps at the sight, pupils blown wide when the first glimmer of tears scrape down your cheeks.
Regardless, he shows no mercy as he takes in the show with undivided interest. 
Vaguely you register the bustle and commotion around you as different Na’vi and humans rush to and fro, giant machinery finally backing into place but they are only background noise to your third orgasm. 
Your body is caught between delight and despair with every passing second. When you are close to reaching your peak for the fourth time your body is resistant to get you there all the way. The intense buzzing in your pussy is driving you wild but still not enough to drag out another orgasm after being too overstimulated. Despite the soreness that emanates from your wrecked hole, your clit throbs in agony. Begging to be touched. To be licked. Pinched. Flicked. God, anything at this point.
Memories of Neteyam doing just that surface, pushing you closer and closer to another dumbing climax and yet only serve as a reminder of how you are not getting the treatment you so desperately need. Pride is dashed to the side, you’ll worry about the consequences of grinding onto the toy in public later. 
Lo’ak’s hands roughly brush over his inner thighs and it draws your attention. The taunt muscle and smooth skin of those thighs would surely brush over your intimate flesh so perfectly. He would probably help you too, hands clawing at your hips as they urge you back and forth over the area. Even more so, the younger brother would not be able to pass up the opportunity to show his power over the situation, muscles flexing to tease your clit oh so beautifully. 
You’re not sure when Lo’ak became telepathic but he grips his knees and gives you a look that says he knows every dark desire that plagues your brain. His nails press into that soft flesh and drag until there are pretty red marks left behind. If you crawled over there sweetly, would he let you ride? Maybe if you healed those red marks with open mouthed kisses and kitten licks. 
Unaroused you would be ashamed of this train of thought but she is so far gone now. 
The only thing your poor abused cunt is begging for was attention. Anything to get this awful mix of heaven and hell to bleed into euphoric release and rest. 
The only thing stopping you from reaching down and finishing the job yourself is the assurance that Lo’ak would snip all pleasure in a bud at the sight of any touching. 
The area has been cleared of invaders. Na’vi begin to make their way off to the hills before take off but you are none the wiser. Caught in your own little bubble you don’t even notice when a sudden shadow blocks out the sun. That is until, large warm hands slip under the cloak and skate over your spread legs. 
Such a simple touch has never made you whimper more. 
Neteyam’s accent is thicker now, words heavy enough to hardly understand the meaning as he coos at you. “There’s my sweet pet. Little slut just wants to come again, don’t you?”
His fingers force your legs to spread even wider. Lo’ak’s stares as if his glare could heat up enough to burn through that cloak. 
With such delicacy it makes you want to scream, Neteyam uses two fingers to part your pussy lips and expose your pulsing clit. The other hand slithers down to rest on your thigh as you try to buck against the air. 
“Come for your Olo’eyktan, pet,” He growls and with the other hand he begins delivering rapid little taps to your clit. It’s humiliating how tiny the gesture that puts you over the edge is but you paint the toy white regardless. 
When the vibrator finally takes a rest you are too far lost in your own little world. Neteyam swaddles you in the cloak and carries you in his arm as you bury into his chest. And conveniently, when you are tucked back in the forest there is no awareness left in you to recognize the sound of launching ships. 
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As always interaction and feedback not only means the world to me but also as a great motivator for writing and updating<3
Taglist: @pandoraslxna@neteyamssyulang@tallulah477@criticallybella@sullybrothersmate@lilghostiequinni@chershire23@lala-1516@teyamshuman@yawnetu@puddle-nerd@ratchetprime211@avatargirly @chocolatechocobo91 @kariz-stark@bunnscoffe @avatarwifey @universal-s1ut@witchsprit@heart-an0n @riri-is-a-girlie @rivatar@minnory@ikeyniofthetayrangi@ilovehobi101@spicymayyo@v4mp1rr3@nilsavatar@bambithewriter@quicktosimp@itchaboi-itchyboy@thehoneymushroomhealer @ilytulipse @witchsprit@imwutim@crazy4books1@thegirlwholoveslivesfanfiction@danniackerman@dayyzlol@justabite7 @krispyjellyfishkitty @neteyamtesuli @sakurayuki8655-blog @deadpool15 @valeriinee @leaveitbythewave @aqxllo @mxnygn @crazed-flower @crimsonroses666 @property-of-neteyam @rejectedbytheempty
Let me know if I missed you. It's getting a littly tricky to keep track of everyone haha
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yawnetu · 17 days
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ALL THE TIME (IF YOU WERE MINE) ★ masterlist.
pairing: jake x reader
warnings: explicit sexual content, human!fem!reader, porn with a lot of plot, establishing feelings, reader's nickname is "Spellman/Spelly", size kink, face sitting, finger fucking, manhandling, begging, riding, dirty talk, squirting, whatever you call this, breeding kink, creampie | wc: 19k
note: i became obsessed with jake + spelly ᨳ ˶ᵔᴗᵔ˶) thank u for the love on fantasize + i hope u all love the development between our fav dummy avatar and our fav scientist!!
★ sequel to fantasize
⏤ Now that feelings are known and the lucky chance to be alone in the lab together arises, Jake wants to go even further than he did before.
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“Hey, marine, where’s your log from last night?”
Of course, the first thing out of Grace’s mouth when Jake rolls himself into the front workspace is something to do with video logs. Jake does everything he can to stop himself from groaning in her face and presents her a smile, one that she can no doubt see right through when he appears in the dim daylight falling through the windows.
“It’s not there? Must have deleted itself.”
Grace’s eyebrows raise. “Are you trying to tell me that the camera just…deleted the footage? I have everyone else’s logs on here except for yours. Conveniently for you…”
“Can’t even make a log right,” comments Norm — Jake had almost forgotten all about the eldest Spellman and turns his head to see him, and quite frankly, even just looking at Norm this morning feels like a silent victory, the excited feeling of thrilled anticipation bubbling in Jake’s stomach.
“Ask your sister,” Jake says in reply, almost laughing at loud at the contorted face of disgust that appears in replacement of Norm’s sneer, “she saw me last night.”
“Here we go,” Norm sighs.
Luckily for Norm, Grace buts in: “Enough, you skxawngs. Just make a log while it’s all still fresh.” She pauses then, and pulls out one of her beady eyes to stare intently at Jake, “It is still fresh, right, Jake?”
“Fresh as a daisy, doc,” Jake replies, but his eyes have already begun wandering around the lab for the notably absent scientist he enjoys seeing the most in the mornings — the same scientist he fucked stupid last night and hasn’t stopped thinking about since.
Considering your unbelievably obvious feelings for Jake, it shouldn’t be a surprise that he managed to entice you out to the little forest behind the shack, and yet he still can’t believe that it even happened. There’s a phantom tingle in his stomach as he thinks it over — did it even count when he did things in his avatar?
Everybody has noticed your interest in Jake, including Jake himself, and yet a strange doubt gnaws at his mind as his eyes wander across the lab, seeking you out, looking for signs of you on the counter or out the windows. More than anything, he hopes he hasn’t completely severed his chances with you. 
What if you woke up and regretted all of it? What if you woke up and despised him all of a sudden? That probably wouldn’t surprise him, since there’s plenty of anti-Jake sentiment being spread in the lab right now, and he’s never had too much of a good thing before it slips away somehow.
Still, there’s a small crack inside of Jake that remains open with the possibility that maybe everything is fine.
Jake doesn’t know how long he’s been staring out the window for before Grace speaks again, but when he looks over at her, he’s grateful that she’s not looking at him already to catch him in his daydreaming.
“I don’t hear you making that log, marine,” she says carefully, her eyes once again glued to her microscope. It’s a wonder she doesn’t just fall asleep next to the damn thing. 
Jake tries his best to look casual as he rolls to the end of the lab and fiddles with the camera, asking, “Where’s everyone else?”
Grace shuffles and swaps one of the samples under the microscope. “Outside. I sent Little Spellman out to collect a sample from the fyìpmaut tree that we noticed on our first outdoor sweep. I think in the next few days, we might even get a bit of fruit from that sucker.”
“That’s a squid fruit tree, by the way,” adds Norm, and Jake casts him a filthy glare that Norm unfortunately doesn’t see since he’s got his nose buried in some papers.
“I know that,” Jake says in the calmest voice he can.
Does Norm forget that Jake goes through what burns down to a routine of drills with Neytiri on almost everything and anything the woman can think of that can be found on Pandora? From his, quote, “valuable field research”, Jake thinks he’s learned more about Pandora and what you can find in the forest than Norm has in three years.
“I sent Chacón out with her so she can stretch her legs,” Grace continues, having no energy to waste on trying to get Jake and Norm to coexist peacefully. “I don’t think she even goes outside unless it's to fly, so it’ll do her some good.”
Jake looks out the window again. He wishes he could at least see you — maybe that would make the twisting discomfort disappear. He tries very desperately to think about last night again, running his memory over every detail until he knows for sure that he wasn’t overanalysing or even imagining the entire thing.
He likes you. You like him. He fucked you in the forest. He liked it a lot. You sounded like you liked it a lot. You looked sad to see him disappear before going inside. He didn’t imagine any of that, did he?
Grace’s chair creaks menacingly and it makes Jake switch on the little camera quickly and start listing off whatever he did with Neytiri the day before. It would be hilarious if he were to accidentally mention the fact that he stretched out Norm’s sister and filled her up with cum, but Jake has the decency to know that the timing isn’t right.
Plus, he kind of wants Norm to figure it out for himself. 
As he recites his day, all he can think about is how he wants Norm to find out — when he’s out on a pathetic patrol around the shack, maybe he’ll get a whiff near the forest; god, Jake hopes you’re walking with a goddamn limp just to rub salt in the wound. There are too many ways, too many possibilities, and Jake has to work overtime to fight the grin that wants to appear on his face. 
The story he’s sharing about tracking yerik through their shit isn’t funny at all, and he’d hate to have to try and explain why he’s smirking while he’s telling it. 
Jake can’t think of anything else to say to drag on the log that Grace apparently wants so badly, so he calls it a day and switches off the camera. He then steals another glance out the window and is absolutely delighted when he can actually see you this time.
You’re sprinting with Trudy back towards the lab while frantically looking up above your head. Jake can’t even see the sky from where he’s sitting, and suddenly feels a pang of pity for you for having to sit in here until Grace essentially gives you the green light to go outside. 
No wonder the stars had been so fascinating last night — you can’t see anything through these frosted glass panes that the science department were forced to call windows. 
Jake feels his heart pounding in his chest when the sound of the doorway pressurising fills the room, followed by Trudy’s relieved sigh as she whips off her exo-pack and takes a deep breath of air. But he’s not looking at her as desperately as he is at you, and Jake doesn’t know if it’s the afterglow of fucking you last night or if it’s two months' worth of feelings rushing back towards him like a tidal wave, but you look so beautiful that it leaves him sitting there dumbly, taking it all in.
“Fucking rain,” Trudy sighs, immediately b-lining for the fridge. Since they first got here, the fridge has expanded in size after a few trips back to Hells Gate for emergency supplies or board meetings Grace couldn’t get herself out of, and now the fridge can store beers that Trudy is all too pleased about cracking open.
“Good timing,” notes Grace as she turns in her chair. “You get it?”
“Yep, here,” comes your voice, and Jake watches quietly as you hand Grace her priceless sample. “The ground near that tree is really wet, though. If you want more samples, I won’t be going until the rain stops.”
“That tree won't bear fruit until the end of the week, maybe,” Grace replies, waving her hand dismissively. “…This is a good sample, Spellman, great eye.”
“Thanks,” you laugh in reply. 
Your back is still facing Jake, and each second you waste looking away from him makes Jake feel more impatient to see your eyes on him again. He watches very observantly as you stretch your arms up with a small groan, the bottom of your tank rising as you reach for the ceiling and iron out the aches in your bones. 
Grace looks at you for a minute and her brows pinch. You clearly don’t notice as you turn in Norm’s general direction and make a comment about how terrible his notes were last night, but Grace doesn’t stop eye-balling you until she throws a short glance at Jake and narrows her eyes. 
He says nothing, dares not even move until Grace raises her eyebrows as if it will clear the calculating expression off her face. She sets the sample down on the counter and leans her weight on her elbow, reaching into her pocket for a cigarette.
“Hey, you’ve got a crazy ass rash on your chest, Spellman,” Grace says suddenly, and you whip around to look at her so quickly that Jake has to refrain from sighing in pity. “What happened?”
You peer down at your chest and Jake knows you’ve remembered and by now noticed the mark on your chest that is shaped like Jake’s mouth. For a second, there’s a tense silence, and Jake feels his stomach turning, half out of anxiousness and half thrill — could this be? Could this be the moment everyone finds out? 
He gives Norm a single look, but he’s not even interested in what’s being said, for he’s rearranging the notes he’s been reading and turns to his binder of other random papers.
“One of the samples Jake found for me kinda made me go all itchy,” you lie, very flawlessly too, and finally, you look at Jake.
It’s as if a volt of electricity has been sent through him — Jake has no idea what has suddenly made him feel this way, but something tells him it might be last night; might be the fact that you’re the most beautiful person in the room, on Pandora, in the entire universe. His mouth goes dry. 
“Fngapsutxwll?” Grace asks, and when you look back with a gentle and clueless nod, she frowns and sneers at Jake, “I told you to avoid bringing her carnivorous plants, Jake!”
“I didn’t know it was gonna make her break out in hives,” Jake replies. The lie is so natural that Grace scoffs loudly in reply. 
He hasn’t even brought you any fngapsutxwlls, and yet here he is, lying about it just for the sake of protecting this secret that more than anything, Jake wants your brother to know about.
“Where is it?” asks Grace. “I need to document this.”
“I told you that taking samples from Jake was a bad idea,” Norm pipes up, giving you a sympathetic, tight-lipped smile. 
“Oh, quit bouncin’ my dick, Spellman,” Jake groans, looking away from you with reluctance when you peer over at him.
“You’re a danger to this department. And a danger to my sister.”
“Shut up, Norm,” you huff, marching towards Jake and wrapping your arms around his head in a way that somehow smushes the side of it against your chest. Hey, Jake’s not complaining — he knows this is your own slight rebellion against your brother, but he will relish in this feeling and enjoy the displeasure that writes its way onto Norm’s face. 
“Your sister’s quite capable of making her own decisions around here,” Grace says, her voice tired suddenly. “And the very last thing I wanna do is listen to you fucking assholes fighting. It’s actually boring me. If you’re going to keep at it, I’ll send you back to the Gate, Norm, don’t tempt me. If it weren’t for the fact that this jarhead is days away from becoming one of the People, then believe me, he’d be back there faster than you can say Eywa. So knock it the fuck off.”
Message received: Norm all but deforms into a ball and rolls away to the bunks, with nothing to say for himself besides a disgruntled sigh as he disappears. Jake studies the sound of his footsteps as they stomp down the length of the metal corridor, but then he tunes his senses back to the feeling of your heartbeat lightly thudding against his temple, your hands cradling his head like a baby. 
He savours the feeling for a long minute before pushing the boat out and snaking his hand up the back of your leg, pulling you closer against him.
For a second, Grace glances over at Jake once more and then gives you a warning look. “And don’t encourage them, Spelly, you’re better than that.”
“Sorry,” you laugh, and Jake melts into the soft curve of your breasts like a cold animal craving warmth. Grace spares another fleeting moment looking at you with her menacing beady eye, the same she likes to give Jake whenever he does something slightly wrong, and then she turns back to face her microscope, giving Jake the opening to press his fingernails into your bare legs and look up at you.
The expression on your face when you peer down at him makes a smile bloom across his mouth before he can even stop it. He tilts his head back appreciatively and takes it all in; the look of slight shyness on your face and the soft yet slightly cheeky grin where your mouth is. 
Little Spellman, his woman — decorated with the imprint of his mouth on your tit, a kind of ethereal glow on your skin that he knows he helped put there. 
For a moment, despite all of the thoughts whirling around in Jake’s head, he can’t think of anything to say to you. All he can think of saying is something absurdly stupid about last night, but he’s acutely aware of Grace on the other side of the room, and Trudy floating in and out of the hallway as if she can’t quite decide on where to go.
Slowly, and then all at once, you unravel yourself from Jake and push away to lean your lower back against the lab desk. 
His eyes wander all over your face before you ask, “Sleep well, Sully?”
He sighs from the back of his throat, like he’s thinking, and then relaxes slightly.
“Best night’s sleep in a while,” he replies, folding his arms, watching the way your eyes glimpse down at the very slight curve of his biceps — they’re nothing on his avatar’s physique, but he finds with amazement that you somehow still find something to look at with fondness. 
He has no idea why you like him so much, or why you’re still looking at him like that despite having been tangled with his avatar just last night. On one hand, he knows it’s flattering that somebody likes everything he doesn’t about himself, from his boring personality to his dumbness to his disability. On the other hand, Jake knows that you could do ten thousand times better than with him — even if he factors in the Na’vi body that he suddenly feels more comfortable in than his real one.
“I didn’t even hear you get back in,” Trudy says, deciding to stick in this part of the lab rather than enter the dark lair of sulk that Norm has channeled in the bunks. She drags one of the low stools over with an obnoxious screech, and Jake has to tell himself it’s fine. 
He likes Trudy, likes that she’s a good friend and takes his side on things, but right now, he just wants her to go away; he wants everyone to go away so that he can steal five extra seconds with you before he has to roll back to the link unit and find Neytiri. 
“Well, I thought I’d be considerate and roll by everyone’s bunk extra quietly,” Jake replies. “You guys were out like lights.”
“I feel like all I do is sleep around here,” Trudy mutters.
“You’re welcome to join us on our study later,” Grace offers.
But Trudy cringes. “Can’t say I’ll be much help in a lab, doc.”
“No, we’re collecting wet samples later,” Grace explains. “The rain tank will refill our recycled water, but I need to patch up the reserve tank with Norm while we’re out. Little Spellman here will take cuttings from the forest out back, and we could use a lookout just in case any unwanted visitors join us.”
“I didn’t know about this,” you say confusedly. “When did we decide this?”
“Just now, I decided,” replies Grace. “While Jake’s out doing his shit, we need to do ours. Hope you packed your raincoat, Spelly.”
Paying no attention at all to the string of groans that come from your direction, Jake looks out the window again and gives himself a few seconds to think. 
If he manages to land a clean kill today with Neytiri, then he’ll be choosing his own ikran tomorrow. It is the single most important part of becoming an Omatikaya warrior, according to what he’s deduced from Neytiri’s repeated stress of the whole rite, and the pressing necessity of Jake perfecting his kills has been made his top priority by two women in his life; the woman showing him the ropes and the scientist beating his ass if he misses a video log.
But Jake has carved out a part of his mind and left it open in your name. More than anything else, he wants to stay here and watch you frantically running around in the rain cutting little leaves, talking shit about cells, looking awkwardly at where he fucked you last night in the very forest Grace is making you turn into a new study. 
On top of all that, Jake wants to be there when Norm takes his first whiff of the seeds planted for Jake’s revenge — oh, god, how he wants to see the sinking look of realisation on Norm’s face when he catches Jake’s scent all over his sister…
“Why are you still here, marine?” cuts Grace’s annoyed voice as he glances to the side and sees that the scientist is glaring at him like he’s pa’li shit on her shoes. “Don’t you have animals to hunt?”
Jake sighs through his nose and glances back at you. He wants to do what you asked of him, to tell you he likes you so much it’s making him go insane, how last night was incredible, how he wished you had rolled over and seen him before he went to sleep. But he doesn’t. Now’s not the time, and Jake all of a sudden thinks that he’s behaving like a freak and he moves to roll himself towards the link unit at the far of the link chamber.
As he busies himself by flicking all the necessary switches and deliberately taking longer than normal to get everything ready, he keeps his ears trained on the conversation happening behind him.
“We’ll have to work overtime on the new samples,” Grace says as she slides yet another sample under the microscope. “Parker’s calling us in for a routine meeting and inspection of our data tomorrow. Jake’s doing his Omatikaya training, but Parker will be expecting results to justify the rest of us coming all the way out here.”
“What, all of us are going?” Norm has decided to reappear from the bunks, much to Jake’s dismay.
Grace hums — she probably nods too, knowing her, but Jake makes it a point not to look as though not to blow his cover of listening in. “If I have to go, you guys will suffer with me.”
Jake feels the cavern in his chest hollow out even more. 
“So…Jake’s just staying here?” Norm asks, confused. “…Is that safe?”
“You worried about me, Norm?” Jake calls.
Norm probably frowns — yup: Jake turns and sees that sinister scowl on his face. “Somehow, you’d find a way, just like always. But we’re all the way up in the Hallelujah Mountains.”
“Funnily enough, I knew that, Norm,” says Grace.
“If something happens, Jake will need someone,” Norm continues, and for once, Jake actually agrees. If something were to happen with the link unit or the pressurising system, Jake wouldn’t know the first thing about fixing any of it — that is if he even got out of the unit without falling or dying. 
But now that Norm has mentioned it, Jake’s body fills with dread. Is Norm suggesting that he stay behind with Jake? Then his thoughts spiral: did Norm already know? Was he planning a whole thing to confront Jake or get him back? Norm didn’t strike Jake as the type to outright murder somebody, but hey, he wouldn’t put it past him to try somehow. 
Grace contemplates the idea for a moment and takes her time glancing over at Jake and then back at Norm. “Good point. You stay here, then.”
“Can I stay instead?” you interrupt, and Jake looks at you so quickly he fears he might get whiplash as a result.
Grace eyeballs you curiously, as does Norm. 
“Why?” Norm questions in a rather curt tone.
“No offence, but I haven’t met Parker since our orientation in the Avatar Program when we were students, and pretty much all of our conclusive research is made up of your notes, anyway. I can stay here and manage the lab, continue my own research, and make sure Jake gets in and out of the unit alright once he’s done.” You glance at Grace for good measure, “I’m reliable. But when it comes to talking to the guys in charge, you might be better off with Norm.”
If Grace thinks what you’ve said is suspicious, then she doesn’t show it. After all, you’re right, and everybody in the lab knows it. Jake, for one, knows how reliable you can be around the lab. 
He’s not biased, but he knows that you’re a far more trustworthy scientist than Norm is when it comes to checking the systems, keeping the lab clean and tidy, doing all of your chores and completing your logs, and in general, keeping the entire shack functioning as normal while everybody else is busy. 
He also knows how shy you can get, particularly with your work. Not even a few hours ago, you had tried to downplay your interest in the Na’vi to justify Norm’s graduation into the Avatar Driver program, and he can’t think of a single time you’ve told somebody that their research isn’t as important as your own. In fact, Jake isn’t even one hundred percent sure what you’re interested in when you’re not aiding everybody else’s research.
More importantly than any of that, Jake knows that you staying behind in the shack while everybody else flies out for an overnight at Hell’s Gate is particularly advantageous. It spells the perfect setting for the next stage of his so-called ‘revenge’, although he’s beginning to believe that soon enough, Jake will be fucking you for more than the thrill of it pissing Norm off.
Jake blinks and finds you looking at him, as if trying to coax a word or two of support from his mouth. He throws you a simple smile and angles his head towards Grace.
“It’s a no-brainer who I’d rather be spending a night with,” he says. Then he immediately cringes on the inside — that came out horribly wrong, no matter how truthful it may have actually been.
But still, Grace doesn’t think twice about the otherwise nasty implications of his words. Instead, she shrugs and turns to the janky coffee machine that is tucked nearby to a selection of mason jars by the mini microwave.
“Wait, wait, wait. You’re saying you willingly want to spend a whole night in this remote shack with Jake?” Norm asks, looking at you as if you’ve grown a third head. “Alone?”
“What would be so bad about it?” you reply casually. “He’ll hardly be here, anyway. Besides, if he pisses me off, I’ll just kick him out of his chair and leave him somewhere.”
Jake laughs, “Rude? I thought you liked my wheelchair.”
“Whatever,” Grace announces, just before you get the chance to reply with something witty to make Jake laugh in return. “We’ll be back as soon as the day breaks. Chacón says she needs VFR to get through the mountains, so we’ll play it safe. As long as you can hold out until then, Spelly, then go ahead.”
The sound of the link unit whirring to life makes Jake jump slightly, and he reluctantly glances away to punch in the data on the screen while the rest of the lab busy themselves in their usual routine. 
Jake can’t believe it. He could not have predicted a more perfect result.
Tomorrow, there’ll be nobody else besides you and him.
It is quite literally perfect news.
As Jake hears Norm begin his on-brand rant over how you should be cautious around an idiot like himself, he allows himself the simple pleasure of grinning wickedly to himself, feigning innocence as he very carefully looks at you again out the corner of his eye. 
After a while of fighting off your brother, you eventually look back at Jake and smile, so radiantly and mischievously that he immediately knows that whatever he’s thinking, you’re thinking too.
He heaves himself up and lets Grace think she’s God incarnated by helping him nestle down in the unit, all while he savours the last few minutes he has letting his mind be swarmed with thoughts of tomorrow — thoughts of him with you wrapped in his arms, nobody around to watch, nothing in the world to keep him from claiming you as his own all over again.
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Following Grace’s orders isn’t often a challenge for you — in fact, being given instructions on what to do has become a reliable part of your daily schedule, and it just so happened that you did a lot of what Grace asked without any fuss at all. But right now, you’re having a hard time understanding just why taking samples of a few wet leaves is in any way necessary.
Since earlier that morning, the rain has transformed into a torrential downpour; the raincoat covering your entire body is drenched through, the hood tightened so intensely around your face that it shadows the outline of your exo-pack comically. Still, you practically glare down at the pamtseowll taking lashes from the rain, its catty appearance looking pathetically sad as you snip a segment off and secure it in the sample bag, huffing as you go along.
Everybody in the laboratory has their own interests, their own research to conduct. Grace has been working on a dense study of forest fauna since you arrived on Pandora, and now Norm has decided to work on a branch of research concerning the fauna and its changes when in contact with rainfall.
So far, he’s accumulated a valuable cache of research, and yet, here you are, collecting his samples while he stands on his blue tip-toes and helps Grace fix the faulty water reserve tank.
You can’t even think of the last time anybody offered to help you out with your own research. In a way, the only helpful person has been Jake, and that’s only by a stretch. The variety of cuttings or entire uprooted plants that he brings you after his hours and hours spent on the ground and in the village have been the subjects of your research, but dying plants flattened and prodded in a lab only communicate so much at a time.
Being out here, in the open field, would be the most beneficial if it weren’t for Grace’s restrictive ‘field hours’. 
With a frown, you pop open a small sample tube and carefully angle it underneath another pamtseowll, catching a generous amount of rainwater and firmly sealing it closed. You’ve snipped and sliced a dozen different plants, shadowed by Trudy and her chorus of equally unamused sighs, before Grace and Norm successfully patch up the tank and join you.
“Felinafolia ferrugenia,” says Grace as she stands over your shoulder. She looks annoyingly refreshed considering the onslaught of rain, dressed in a large raincoat of her own but with her legs on display, her shorts the only clothing she appreciates when in her avatar. “Cat ear. Another great sample, Spellman.”
You grunt in reply. Based on the way Grace busies herself with one of the starfishing pxiwll plants instead of replying, you predict she hasn’t heard your complaints, and so you stomach another sigh and crouch over another plant.
“How many cuttings do you want, Norm?” you ask, teeth chattering in the cold.
“As many as we can before all the bags fill up,” Grace replies instead. She jerks her head towards the deeper forest and suggests moving inwards. And honestly, you’d want to, if it weren’t for the fact that she’s currently prowling towards the same lay of forest that Jake took you to last night, and the nerves root you to the spot.
It’s the very last place you’d rather visit with your boss, your brother, and a friendly yet sometimes intimidating aviator pilot. Your eyes close in on the familiar jag of the rock, feeling your heartbeat tremble as Grace approaches it without a care in the world. 
Trudy passes by you with a confused curve of her eyebrows, already stepping in Grace’s oversized footprints and making her way into the concealed cover of trees and branches, and it is only when Norm drops to a crouch beside you that you finally tear your eyes from the rock and look at him.
Norm’s eyebrows are low, a ripple deepening across his forehead as he stares at you, like one would a tricky puzzle in the newspaper. His eyes flicker up and down the raincoat analytically, his lip curling in distaste before he inhales, nostrils flaring, and bites out, “Why do you smell like that?”
Your heart is hammering so loudly that it makes your chest ache, and around the gigantic lump in your throat, you gape at Norm and manage to ask, “Like what?”
“Like… I don’t know, all weird,” he continues, looking perplexed and disturbed at the same time. “Like. Musky. Like… No. I don’t know, but it’s weird. I don’t even know what you smell like, but it’s not normal.”
Without having to put too much thought into it, you’re confident that you know exactly what and who you smell like. A certain oversized ex-marine who Norm just so happens to hate all of a sudden. 
It shocks you how scared Norm’s assessment makes you feel. Of course, you knew that the Na’vi had an incredibly heightened sense of smell, and had that fact confirmed yesterday with Jake sniffing the damp spot between your legs, but you somehow didn’t expect Norm to be able to smell any difference on you. 
This is exactly what Jake wanted to happen; you gauge Norm’s facial expressions for a long time, trying to figure out if he’s made any connections yet, but he continues to sniff at you in disgust, permanently confused by what the hell it could even be.
“Are you sure it’s not just the raincoat?” you ask lamely, taking a pointed look down at the waxy coat enveloping you. “It was just in one of the supply boxes, it probably smells really weird since it’s been in storage for a while.”
Norm inches closer and takes a massive inhale.
“I guess it could be the coat,” Norm decides slowly, watching you as you hover for a moment before stepping off to follow Grace and Trudy. All of a sudden, being over there is better than being here, being interrogated by Norm.
Still, he doesn’t get the hint and he says as he follows you, “But it’s just strange. It’s so strong.”
“If you keep going on about it, it’s gonna hurt my feelings,�� you tell him, hoping that he might shut up and spare you the anxiety of him figuring it out. “You trying to say I stink?”
“Yeah,” Norm replies dumbly. “Because you do. You usually smell fine, I know what body wash you use because I steal it all the time.”
“Right,” you drawl, peering at him from the corner of your eye as you both near the others. Trudy tosses her head over her shoulder and startles at the sight of Norm, as if she forgot he was even there and slowly creeping up behind her. 
For a moment, you wish you had the ability to forget about Norm, but even when he crouches next to Grace and assists in marvelling over a rather average-looking moss blanket, you can’t help but anxiously stare at both of them, as if waiting for something more to be said.
It’s not as if you regret any of last night. On the contrary, you think it might have altered your body chemistry and made you more desperate. While your first tumble with Jake hadn’t been in the way you expected, or even in the form of Jake you were most used to, there’s nothing you can say to make you convince yourself that it was a mistake. Since when did mistakes feel that good?
Your embarrassingly long crush on Jake has been dragged out until now, and quite frankly, the last thing you want to do is suppress the elation you feel about finally taking the next step with him; to finally hold his attention, to be someone he actually feels interested in.
To be “his woman”, to hear Jake say that you were one of the only things ever keeping him from throwing his life into being Na’vi felt like a dream last night, and even now, in his absence, all you can think about is how badly you want him back here, how badly you want him.
But not at the cost of total humiliation. If Norm were to turn around right now and accuse you of the truth, you genuinely believe you might die from embarrassment. It’s one thing sleeping with Jake Sully, but it’s another thing entirely to be found out for sleeping with Jake’s avatar. 
Is it even safe? 
Instead of helping Grace and Norm in their collection of samples, you fall deeper and deeper into your spiral of thoughts. You’re so deeply immersed in them that several minutes go by and Grace and Norm have moved a few feet closer to the rock, studying the moss that creeps up the jagged edges, moss you felt on your back last night. And yet, you still don’t startle out of your thoughts — at least not until a dark shadow falls over you, and Trudy jumps around with wide eyes before groaning with annoyance.
“How the hell did you get here so quietly?” Trudy snaps, and the distress in her voice makes you turn your head over your shoulder. When you see a strangely slender blue waist in front of your eyes, you jump too and look up to find Jake’s face hidden in a slight shadow.
When he looks away from Trudy and finds your eyes behind the glare on the exo-pack, his mouth widens into a giant smirk, and despite the shivering cold of the stormy weather, you feel your body flush with a sudden warmth.
God, sleeping on the fact of what you did with Jake did not make the yearning go away. 
Jake shrugs. “At least I know my training’s paying off.”
At that, Grace acknowledges Jake standing behind you and turns to face him with her hands on her thighs. “Oh. Marine. Why are you here? Aren’t you supposed to be hunting?”
“I’m done for the day,” he announces, his grin widening, if it were even possible. You take the moment to soak up the sight of him in his Omatikaya attire — the rain sliding across his wide torso, looking a shade darker in the dim light, the very faint glimmer of his freckles creating a stitch work of light across his skin. When Grace asks why, he tells her, “I’m ready.”
Grace gasps — she sounds happy, and after your eyes linger for a fleeting second on the wet cloth hanging across Jake’s crotch, you turn to face her. 
“Really?” she asks.
Jake nods. “My iknimaya is tomorrow morning.”
Grace laughs disbelievingly and rises to stand, her hands falling to her hips while Norm remains all but glued to the floor, his eyes glazed with envy as he glances at Jake.
“Oh, that’s wonderful, Jake!” Grace laughs again. “Really. Well done.”
“Nice work, man!” Trudy adds, nodding her head at Jake. “You a tough warrior now, huh?”
You hear Jake snickering behind you, the noise making you shudder. Thankfully, it’s still raining, so you hope it looks like you’re cold rather than on edge about the avatar behind you. 
“You walked all the way here to tell us that?” asks Grace, sounding genuinely curious as she turns back to Norm and quite literally yanks up a whole plant. “Why?”
“Nah. Neytiri wanted to show me the basic route for tomorrow morning,” Jake explains. You can hear him shuffling around behind you, but you’ve become rooted to the spot facing away from him. “Tsu’tey pretty much hates me. He’ll be gagging for the chance to abandon me before we even get to the rookery.”
Grace makes a noise of agreement, which launches her into a serious discussion of how Jake needs to respect Tsu’tey more in order to receive more respect in return. From behind you, Jake groans playfully, although lets Grace continue her presentation on why Tsu’tey is a good leader (not that Jake ever said he wasn’t), and you intensely watch Norm lean his arm on the wedge of rock you recognise from last night until you become aware of the fact that the rain has slowed — or at least above you, it has.
Craning your head up, you notice Jake’s hands hovering over your head, as if acting as some kind of personal umbrella. He’s still looking at Grace when you peer at his face, but instinctively, like he felt you looking, his eyes flicker downwards to yours and he smiles again, his eyes halving into curves. 
Yep. The yearning has definitely persisted.
“Don’t stay too long, Jake, you’ll have to take yourself back down to the village before the storm picks up,” Grace says after her rant has stretched for at least five minutes on the value of Tsu’tey’s comradeship.
“Yeah. Though Neytiri says it’s almost passed,” Jake replies, adjusting his footing behind you, his hands unmoving. 
“Is Neytiri here?” you decide to ask suddenly. Hey, you can’t help but feel curious about the woman who has been helping Jake get to where he currently is.
You somehow miss the confused scrunch of Jake’s eyebrows, as though he finds the question completely irrelevant.
“She’s…around,” he says. “On her ikran somewhere. Practically left me all by myself.”
“Well, I imagine she has better things to do,” says Grace, sparing you the humiliation of coming up with a reason for even bringing her up in the first place, other than to just be nosey. You picture Neytiri stalking the lot of you from a perch with her ikran, trying to figure out if the Sky People keeping Jake’s human body alive are worthy to be left alone in the beautiful Ayram alusìng.
The mention of Neytiri seems to set something off inside Grace, who was apparently looking for any excuse to talk about the village again. She turns around on her haunches and begins another lengthy discussion on the Omatikaya and their ikran, all while Norm scowls into his sample pouches and Trudy steps away from you all to glare at the unassuming grey sky.
You are uncomfortably aware of Jake’s figure still looming over you, his hands sheltering you from the spitting rain and his tail occasionally curling around his leg to jab into your waist playfully.
There’s nothing to fear with Jake, nothing to fear of his potential interest in other people, and you banish the thoughts before they take up permanent residence. You’re better than that. And besides, if Jake didn’t really want you, he wouldn’t be acting like a Na’vi umbrella just for your convenience, wouldn’t be having so much trouble stopping himself from grinning down at you every once in a while.
A gust of cool air pushes its way through the forest, and you shudder dramatically, hoping it might guilt Grace out of the trees and back into the labs. Instead, she snorts, tells you to suck it up, and snaps at Norm for manhandling a sample, all before you feel a warmth surge behind you and two large, blue arms securing around your body.
Before you can even process it, you’re between Jake’s thighs, the large and solid expanse of his torso flat against your back and his cheek against the wet waxy material of your hood. You peer around the side of your coat to find his face, almost jumping when his big golden eyes are staring back at you.
“Don’t catch a cold, Spelly,” Jake says, his taut muscles tightening around you. He smirks at the fleeting look you throw in the group’s direction and purses his lips in an effort not to laugh at how funny everything is. How Norm is leaning against the rock he fucked you on and has no idea. How beautifully hilarious it is to see.
“Famous last words,” you reply, teeth chattering.
“Then go inside, grumpy,” Grace huffs, waving her arm in a flamboyant gesture, “Sully, walk Spellman back before you head to the village, will you?”
Jake shrugs, your body moving with him as he does so. It feels strange to be wrapped up in his arms so openly, with no rush or thrill of being caught through a window or a sniff. Norm looks purple with rage as he glares daggers into Jake’s face, though Jake’s barely looking at Norm, not when his much more favourable sibling is so close and pretty in his face like this.
He very gracefully moves to a stand, his hands moving from your body with reluctance before he reaches out, fingers widening and curling as he grabs for your own. Shyly, you reach to take it, hearing Norm mutter something not-so-graceful under his breath and stepping in Jake’s shadow to follow as he makes his way with you back towards the lab.
The muddy ground squelches under Jake’s feet, but with the way he walks so carelessly, it’s as though he has already become acclimatised to the Na’vi ways. And, you have to admit, he sports the village clothing with class and style.
Jake’s beads clink together as he turns his head in an incline to see you. 
“Tell me it was everything I hoped for,” he says suddenly, and as you spot the cocky little smirk on his mouth, you laugh and shake your head, already knowing what he’s asking about.
“Norm said I smelled weird. I tried my best not to be offended.”
Jake sniggers, “That man has no idea.” Looking pleased, Jake swings your intertwined hands and adds quickly, “And you just smell like me. I like it.”
“You would like it.”
“In the village, couples smell like each other all the time,” he says, a bit too casually, and you sideways glance at him. “Like, to lay claim.”
“I don’t think you have to worry about laying claims when the only other man I see on a daily basis is literally my brother,” you remind him.
“Yeah. But, still. The idea,” Jake shrugs. “Isn’t it nice?”
The both of you round the corner of the lab and disappear from sight of the scientists back in the forest, now totally concealed behind the front of the lab and the drab look of the short grass and mud. On the bright side, the rain is slowing considerably, which is probably the only reason why you’re not cringing when you have to look up at Jake just to see his face.
“You know Neytiri has zero interest in me, right?”
You refrain from groaning. “I know, Jake.”
“Okay, ‘cause maybe it wasn’t obvious, so I’m just saying—”
“Let’s not… We’re not gonna do that, okay?” you say, cringing at the fact you brought it up in the first place. “I get it.”
“You’re sure?”
“Jake,” you laugh, pausing. What can you even say? 
He shifts slightly. “I told you that scientists are more my thing, and you know, what I meant by that was—”
“I know,” you groan, waving your hands desperately, “and I believe you. Don’t make this weird, Jake.”
Mercifully, he surrenders, holding up his hands to announce his resignation from the point. For a few more seconds, he stares at you, assesses every flinch or twitch of features on your face, and seems relieved when he finds nothing that indicates you’re upset with him.
Better than that, he completely sets aside the conversation; he smiles genuinely, as close to innocent as Jake can get, and then his eyes avert to the ground and he runs his tongue across the inside of his cheek.
Before the silence stretching between you can fester into anything else, you announce your leave with a heavy sigh and twist towards the doors.
“Get out of here, big guy,” you tell him, already punching in one of the codes to access the pressure chamber. “I’ll try and stay up to see you tonight.”
“Yeah right,” he teases, still in the same position you left him in. “My sleepy girl. Couldn’t manage it last night, I was gone like fifteen minutes.”
“Fifteen precious minutes of sleep,” you say, watching Jake’s grin widen as the doors slide open and in you go. There’s no need for a goodbye; you’ll see him again later.
As soon as you’re inside of the lab again, you waste zero time in climbing out of the horribly drab coat and leaving it to dry in a cupboard that Grace hangs wet clothes in from time to time. The wax won’t run properly through the laundry machines, and so you leave it there, thankful that no rain seeped through to your clothes underneath, and shudder at the temperature change once back inside the strange comfort of the lab.
Dutifully, you place a bag of samples next to one of the microscopes, and you’re about to fish out a towel to head straight for the showers when you catch a glimpse of something blue outside the window — Jake, bending over to peer into the lab, tapping his finger on the glass to get your attention.
You look at him questioningly. Then, you watch in disbelief and amusement as Jake grins, puts his fisted hands down by his abdomen and then lifts them up to his shoulders. It takes a moment of confusion before it clicks — this motherfucker is asking you to lift up your shirt.
Jake nods, no doubt laughing to himself outside the lab as you gape at him. Perhaps you misunderstood him, but the look of eager anticipation and smugness on Jake’s face tells you otherwise. 
You look at the window to the right of you, paranoid that any of the three people you live with happen to be approaching the lab. The fear of someone like your brother or your boss seeing you with your tits out for the enjoyment of a massive flirt like Jake Sully blurs into thrill, and just to see him grin like he did last night, you laugh to yourself and fist the bottom of your shirt, rolling it up and over your breasts until they fall out on display.
You look at Jake expectantly. He peers closer, his fangs displayed as he smiles so wide you think his face might split into two, and after a long, drawn-out moment of ogling them, Jake finds your eyes and nods appreciatively, raising one thumb for good measure.
Your shirt is back down over your breasts by the time Jake is standing upright and stalking towards the edge of the cliffs, a speed in his step. Waiting until he’s completely out of view, you watch him disappear past the drop and spin back to stare at nothing in particular, until a ripple of laughter bubbles out of you uncontrollably, your face unbelievably hot.
The possibility of the shower running cold all of a sudden sounds kind of appealing.
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True to his word, Jake makes it back to the labs just after you’ve eaten, and is subject to Grace’s maternal fussing as she thrusts a food pouch into his lap and watches him until the contents have been devoured. Jake would need all of his energy for tomorrow — the first crucial steps were to be well-fed and well-rested.
“What’ll happen once you’re one of the People?” you ask Jake, comfortably nestled on one of the deck chairs that Grace found in storage that has been set up in the corner of the lab designated for eating and talking.
From spending a few months with Grace, everybody has become neutralised to her obsessive habit of separating her needs in her living space — somewhere to eat and talk, somewhere to work; somewhere to link up, somewhere to bathe, somewhere to sleep.
Jake shrugs with a smile. “I guess that’ll be it. I’ll have my ikran, they’ll throw me a little party, I’ll have suitors dancing at my feet…”
You smirk, eyebrows raised playfully. “Mighty bachelor.”
“But that’s not important, is it, Jake?” Grace interrupts pointedly.
“No,” he replies in genuine agreement. “The first course of action will, of course, be making Grace the boss. There’ll be a school in the village by next week.”
“Har, har,” replies Grace sarcastically. She takes a swig of her beer and smiles. “I just meant that relations are important. If we can do anything to establish friendly alliances with the People, it saves a whole lot of bloodshed and pain.”
“I hear you,” Jake assures her. “I am excited for my party, though.”
“Gotta pass first,” Norm says, balancing a pencil on his upper lip. “Easier said than done.”
“Hey, I just thought of my first plan of action. How about you do everything I’ve just done Norm? I’d love to see you try,” Jake says. 
Now that he’s already bedded you and is fairly certain of the longing twist in his stomach being there as a physical reminder of his feelings for you, Jake’s not really interested in letting Norm treat him like a loser anymore.
Norm just throws a middle finger in Jake’s direction. Before Norm’s usual dark and depressing energy pollutes the good vibes in the room, you quickly jump back into the conversation. 
“I wanna go to your party,” you say.
“Grace can come,” Jake replies sympathetically, his lips vanishing into a downturned frown. “If you have time and find a link unit in the Gate, then you’re welcome, Neytiri said so.”
“What about me? While you two are out getting drunk, I’ll be here, what, on my own?”
“Sorry, Spelly,” Jake frowns. “Hey, how about we paint you blue and try and sneak you in? Might pass as a Na’vi child if you’re lucky.”
“Charming…”
You tune out of Grace’s promises to make it to Jake’s party — if one even happens in the first place — and focus your attention on Jake.
You’ve only been in close proximity with Jake’s avatar for less than two days, but already, you’re making out the shape of his Na’vi features in his real ones. When he laughs, his head tilts up in the same way it did last night; his tongue poking at the inside of his cheek as he tries to reign the laughter in, the crease near his eyes as he purses his lips, the angle of his head when he finds your eyes locked on him once he does a scan of the people in the lab.
All it took was one night with his avatar to completely amplify the feelings you have for him. And all it took was one night in his avatar to breathe his own feelings into reality.
By the time Jake has made his way to the bathroom after pulling the short straw and being the last one in there, you’re already cocooned in bed, staring up at the fuzzy darkness intensified by Trudy’s top bunk. 
With Trudy cleaning her pistols and Grace and Norm making sure all of their notes are in order for the early flight out to Hell’s Gate tomorrow, you focus your attention on the sounds of Jake in the small bathroom — the sounds of him brushing his teeth and cursing when he knocks something off a shelf, the little squeak of his wheels as he does his best to move around. 
Your heart is hammering twice its usual pace when the light vanishes and his wheels grow louder as they amble towards the bunks.
Cracking open one eye, you just about make him out in the faint light cast by your overhead lamp. He rolls into view, his eyebrows furrowed slightly, although his features even out and he relaxes once he confirms that your eyes are, in fact, still open.
“Got me worried for a sec,” he says quietly. Everyone is still up, and he can’t risk giving them yet another reason to cockblock him.
“Just in time. I was dozing off,” you reply, nose wrinkling as you laugh at the roll of his eyes. 
Jake adjusts himself, leaning down on his elbows as they mould into the thin mattress and cushion by your side. You shuffle, shifting your head to look at him as his eyes flicker across your face. 
He supports his face with his hand pressed into his cheek, the other hand lifting to ghost across your face, lightly trailing over your hairline. There is a slight vacancy in his eyes, like his mind is full of thoughts that are taking his attention elsewhere, and for a moment, you wonder what to even say until his eyes snap back down to yours and his hand on his cheek moves.
His finger and thumb shift to squish your cheeks together, bringing your mouth into a pucker as he leans his head down and plants a kiss on your lips.
Jake breaks away after a moment, barely creating a distance between you before he kisses you again, and again. His hand releases your cheeks and with the other, he gently strokes the top of your head, all so softly it’s as though making any sudden movements might cause you to jump away. 
There’s a faint taste of toothpaste on your mouth when Jake pulls away, your eyes still closed for a second longer than his as he maps your expression, not even trying to hide his pleased smile when they do open to the sight of his face still hanging over yours.
Jake steals another quick kiss on your chin, heaving himself back up with a forced and slightly dramatic groan.
“I’ll see you tomorrow night, then,” he tells you quietly, his voice suddenly hoarse as though kissing you has winded him. His chest is falling a bit more unevenly than before — has kissing you left Jake with the same fluttery feeling as it has with you?
You nod, your teeth tugging on your bottom lip to prevent the blinding smile from shining through. You’ve gotta leave him with a little bit of yearning — he can’t have it too easy.
“Really hope you don’t die in the morning,” you reply.
He laughs unexpectedly. “You know what? Me too.”
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The lab is silent.
After so many weeks of being surrounded by the noise of other people, it is jarring to be alone. The metal lab groans in the wind, the frosty glass rattling as it gusts past the container you now call home. Outside, the front of the cliffside the shack is perched upon is glowing vibrantly, pulsing with energy, but unlike a few days ago, you have no desire to head outside, all too content in the toasty warmth you’ve curated in the lab.
You try not to feel too alone — in the link chamber, Jake is in deep like a tick, probably partying with the clan. With no distress calls from Grace and no disturbances from Jake’s most likely agonising session in the unit, you assume that all went well with Jake’s iknimaya. He must be buzzing, light and dizzy with whatever native alcohol he’s been rewarded with.
Meanwhile, here you are, waiting for one of your watercolour paintings to dry. A quiet night in the lab constitutes a well-earned night off, although you could consider your relaxing drawings of yesterday’s sample research if you really needed to. 
With your knee up by your chest, you swirl the lab chair in a lazy circle whilst you wait, listening to the silence grow tinny as it stretches on. It occurs to you that you actually don’t enjoy being alone the way you used to. You’ve grown so accustomed to noise that without it, the world feels hopelessly lonely. You find with shock and horror that you even miss Norm complaining about everything, followed by some fancy Grace quip or Trudy laugh. 
You don’t know how much longer Jake may be in there for. A couple more minutes? Hours? The longer you stare in the direction of the link chamber, the more anxious you feel.
So, maybe being all alone in the Hallelujah Mountains wasn’t what you dreamed it was going to be, except for the opportunity it gave you to colour a few pictures of stems and flower buds.
Sighing, you dab your little finger into one of the dry petal paintings and swirl the paintbrush in the water again, deciding to start on colouring in some of the bioluminescence outside into a spare square of space. In no way, shape or form are you an artist, but the painting calms you, and welcomingly takes your mind off the fact that you’ve been alone in this lab pretty much since you woke up this morning. 
The paintbrush flicks over where you’re trying to imagine a tawtsngal from memory to spruce up the otherwise dull-looking painting of the view in front of you, and you’re just about to dip the paintbrush into the water to dilute the colour when you hear a rumble outside the shack.
Never a good sign.
You still, listening: the shack rattles twice, the table shaking, and for a moment you consider the possibility of there being a landslide nearby. With wide eyes, you jump up off your chair and rush to the window, peering out into the vibrant dark to check for any fallen rocks, but you see nothing besides grass and plants, and an even darker outline of jagged wings landing where Trudy normally lands her ship.
The ikran manifests into shape, a map of twinkling white freckles settling down in the short grass and screeching out in the night. You try to manage your breathing as you take in its sheer size; it raises up and screeches again, digging the speared claws under its spread of wing into the soft dirt beneath it and it bows down. 
For a moment, it does not register to you that someone is climbing down off their back until you see their starry shape jogging towards the window — your eyes are still glued to the proud ikran showing off in the night, settling down in one of the low yet fluffed out trees near the fyìpmaut tree Grace has become infatuated with.
When your eyes finally snap over to the approaching Na’vi, you let out an embarrassingly loud sigh of relief when you realise it’s Jake, followed by a strangled noise of shock when you realise, yet again, that it’s Jake. Avatar Jake. Big, blue and beautiful Jake, who is currently punching in a string of numbers into the door and letting himself inside the lab.
Your hands are trembling like crazy when the air pressurises around him, and you almost don’t even know what to do when the inside door unlocks and swings open, and in he comes. Jake glances around the lab in a crouch, looking somewhat uncomfortable as if he forgot just how large he was, and he grins when he finds you.
“Hey, my hì’i syulang,” he calls, his hands reaching in a fumble under the emergency exo-packs to fetch one of the AAS-RO2s secured in a rack underneath. They were rarely used unless Grace or Norm needed to for some reason bring their avatars inside for something and were too lazy to wake up and do it in their human bodies, and for some reason, seeing Jake fiddle with one and actually get it to work despite having never touched one before feels absurd to you.
You hum with interest once he’s successfully geared up, smiling when he looks at you for approval.
“Hey, yourself. You got good with Na’vi.”
“Practise makes perfect,” he shrugs, though looks too cocky for his own good now that you’ve complimented him on it.
“I’m not tiny, by the way. You’re just huge.”
“Yep,” Jake grins, stepping towards you with two equally huge strides. His eyes catch sight of the drawings on top of the table and he drops to a comfortable crouch by your side, his brows high as he asks, “Aw, you colouring?”
You scoff quietly. “It’s research. Botanical, legitimate research.”
His hands skim through the pages with interest and he hums. “Looks fun.” When he looks up, it’s outside of the window, and you follow his gaze back to the resting ikran outside. “Wanna draw him? He’s real cute.”
“I see you survived your iknimaya in one piece, mighty warrior,” you reply, feeling the muscles of his arms with a teasing smile, and Jake looks at you from the side and his gaze softens. “How was your party, then?”
“Good,” he nods thoughtfully, gaze averting as he looks one more time at his ikran before dedicating his attention solely on you. After all, you are what he came here for in the first place, if not to show off to then just to see. His eyes find yours again and he brushes one of his hands up over your forehead again, thumbing your hairline, gaze so soft and warm it could melt butter. 
“Grace came,” he continues, “the kids got her dancing by the fire. I tried some rank liquor, had to do my own ceremonial dance with about ten different people.” Jake’s smile widens affectionately, “Neytiri showed me the Tree of Voices. Utraya Mokri, the People’s direct link to Eywa.” You can’t help but smile with him as he tells you all of this. His happiness is infectious. “Eywa is…incredible. Grace needs to try it, she’d lose her mind.”
You laugh at that. “That could be your first course of action, Tsyeyk Suli.”
Jake’s entire face reshapes with adoration, so much so that he physically cannot stop himself as he pulls your head forward and presses a soft kiss to your forehead. The action takes you by surprise — you’ve barely begun processing the kiss Jake left you with last night, let alone accepted the possibility of another one being given by the body that lay you over a rock once.
He pulls away, and when he does, you notice the lurching gesture in his chest, as though he's struggling to breathe, and you pointedly bring up the respirator around his neck and laugh.
“Damn. I took all your breath away. Chug some dioxide.”
Jake rolls his eyes but takes a sip of the CO2, eventually falling back into place. Now reminded of the tedious ritual he’s made himself a slave to by coming in here in his new favourite form, Jake quickly thinks back to whatever it was he was talking about and continues.
“Neytiri also told me that I have now earned my place in the village,” Jake begins again, his voice a little bit dreamy. More than anything, you wish you could have been there to be a part of the vision playing in Jake’s mind, to visualise his stories of the village and the forest and his place in all of it. 
“I may live in the village, so to speak, I can carve my own bow from the wood of Hometree.” When his eyes search your face hesitantly, he adds very slowly, “and I may also take a woman.”
“Oh,” you say, quickly scanning his own expression for anything out of the ordinary. When his eyes round in shape and his ears flatten against his head, the corners of his mouth twitching, you raise your eyebrows and ask, “and how do you feel about that?”
“Well, I told Neytiri that I had already chosen someone,” Jake tells you.
“Did you?”
He nods with a hum, trying not to look so amused, though failing horribly at it. “And so Neytiri told me that I should go and seek out my woman to tell her that I have made my decision. She was a little eager to get rid of me, actually.”
“And…that’s why you’re here?” you ask, almost regretting it when Jake opts for staring at you for a second too long, in a silence too concerning. Then, he smirks, brows high, eyes narrowed, like you asking is the silliest thing in the entire world. 
“Obviously, Spellman.” Jake laughs as you do, bemused, “Jesus. For such an intelligent woman, you’re so stupid sometimes.”
“Takes stupid to know stupid,” you reply.
“Exactly,” he croons, face so close to you that he’s able to push his face forward to kiss your lips without much effort at all.
It’s not as though you forgot what being around Jake’s avatar felt like; it’s only been a few days since you last encountered him, and yet it feels like the first, your stomach rolling over itself like a tsunami as Jake’s lips find your own in perfect harmony.
Admittedly, you had expected your next tumble with Jake to be in his human body, but now that he’s here, now that he’s already flown himself out here to find you, you can’t think of any reasons to turn him away.
Last time, any possibility of kissing Jake had been next to impossible thanks to the exo-pack, but now, with nothing in the way, Jake relishes in the feeling of your lips against his own, his large hand cradling the side of your face. 
Of course, he’s kissed you before, yesterday at a strangle angle to accommodate his unfortunate wheelchair. Now, there’s nothing to hinder his progress, nothing to prevent his plans — it’s just you and him, alone in the lab, exactly how he wanted it to be.
It’s as though the gravity in the room is being sucked out when Jake pulls away; you feel like you’re floating merrily off the chair, leaning forward as though to find him in the space he’s created, and Jake laughs from his throat and sweeps his gaze down your body. 
No longer are you wearing your favoured shorts or tank top. To his delight, you’re in a long t-shirt that hangs around your knees, presumably only panties underneath, and his mouth twitches with intrigue.
“Cute outfit,” Jake says appreciatively, using his finger to lift up the bottom of the shirt and peering at your thighs, seeking out the bite he left you with the night before. When he finds the very faint outline, he laughs boyishly and glances back at you, “even cuter tattoo, honey.”
You laugh, and then Jake runs his finger across the nearly gone indent and hitches your shirt higher up over his wrist, the sight of your baby blue panties peeking into view as his grin widens. 
“Why are you grinning so hard?”
Jake shrugs; now both of his hands are at your hips, shirt pulled up at the front, his golden gaze trained on your crotch. 
“Just happy,” he says simply. Though he appears perfectly content zoning out on the sloping curve of your crotch, Jake looks up and says, “Did you know I was coming?”
“Well, I expected the real Jake to be here by now,” you confess, thinking about Jake lying in the link unit controlling his avatar with his hands on your hips.
Jake’s brows furrow, his smile flattening to an amused line. “I’m real.”
“You know what I meant.”
“Forget about him.”
“I like him.”
“And that makes me really happy, believe me, but this is real for me. This right here, you and me,” Jake says, his voice a little lighter than it was before, which is the only real way you can tell that he’s not joking.
This is serious for Jake. It’s not just part of a ploy to piss off Norm. Jake has become undone with his feelings, in a way that is so unbecoming of him that it’s actually embarrassing; now that he’s practically on his knees in front of you telling you it’s real, telling you that he’s pretty much told Neytiri and by extension the whole village that you’re his and he is yours, you know without a shadow of doubt in your heart that he is being sincere.
“Believe me, honey. It brings me no greater joy than knowing that you’ve been interested in me since we first met—”
“Well. If we’re being technical, then it was just before you got chased by the than—”
Jake simply frowns. “Hey. I’m not fucking around here, Spellman. I’m trying to tell you how I feel.”
“…Sorry. Go on.”
“…If I knew in my heart that I could give you what I want you to have from my wheelchair, I so would, but everything is easier like this. I can move. I can do whatever you want. I can be whatever you want. And you took all of me so well. Didn’t even struggle. You’re a perfect woman.”
“I love that you think that, but, you know, you're already everything I want from that wheelchair, Jake,” you tell him, and his ears pin back in surprise and his entire expression falls; he doesn’t look upset, however. Rather, he looks in awe. “You don’t have to walk or fuck me on a rock to give me everything you think I want. I just want you. Everything else is a huge, incredibly pleasant bonus.” 
You reach out for his face and rest your hand over his cheek, feeling his skin on your own. He feels warm to the touch. 
“You know how I feel,” you continue quietly, “and I like every second with you. I just wanted you to know for sure that even though you met my needs in your avatar, you never needed to.” Jake has barely moved an inch since you started talking, but when you add, “Even though I really like you like this,” Jake’s face twitches, like he’s trying his best to hold himself together. “A lot, actually.”
The splitting smile that stretches on Jake’s face fills your chest with a giddy type of glee.
Then, Jake leans forward, his forehead tilted against yours. Being so close to his face is unreal — you don’t know what to look at first: the lines of tanhì over his skin, the smooth look of it, the slight pink of his snout, the tug on the inside of his lip...
“You’re mine, Spellman,” Jake murmurs.
“Yeah,” you agree in a whisper, matching his own look of delight and feeling a fluttering rush through your chest when Jake secures his hands in a cradle around your face, bringing your lips back together with a sudden fierceness that, this time, is not met with surprise.
Unlike before, unlike the short kiss that had felt stolen between you, you’re surprised by Jake’s eagerness. His mouth presses against yours with a gentle firmness, as though not to hurt you but at the same time, enough to convey just how badly he’s wanted this. His mouth is warm against yours, the glossy sheen of saliva over his bottom lip slippery and inviting as his kisses become more open-mouthed.
Jake kisses you for so long you wonder how he can even breathe — even for you, it feels breathless. When he pulls away, you pinpoint the slight spasm in his chest, the tight veins in his neck as he fights his impulses. With a small laugh, you push the mask around his neck up to his lips and force him to capture his breath, occupying your lips elsewhere in the meantime.
Trailing your mouth across his cheek and jaw, it’s as though Jake is gulping down as much CO2 as he can manage to keep stored inside of him to go a little longer. Eventually, his chest rises and falls evenly while you gently smooch the expanse of skin under his jaw, catching the soft scent of whatever powders and paints he may have been decorated with earlier in the night. 
The mask falls back down past his collar and he shifts; Jake’s hand pulls at your face, his thumb on one cheek and fingers on the other as he guides your mouth back to his, wasting no time in getting back to whatever he was doing before his lungs so rudely interrupted him. 
If he had to die losing breath while kissing you, then it would be a suitable way for him to go.
“Okay,” he breathes, pulling away for a brief second before planting a wet kiss back on the pucker of your lips. You can taste the honey from the alcohol he’s been drinking all night in your mouth. “Up and out.”
With that, Jake lifts you up by your waist and ungraciously tosses you over his shoulder like a sack of flour. Then, with his back hunched slightly, he moves with familiarity through the metal corridors of the lab, navigating his way to the bunks. 
Even like this, you feel so high off the ground, and you squeal with surprise and fist at nothing behind his back. He’d never let you fall, not that the landing would damage you in any physical way except for your pride, but still, you stare at the moving metal beneath his feet in a blur, half excited and half full of nerves.
The floor plan opens up to the bunk chamber, the familiar worn woven rug that Grace had been given from the villagers and had put on the floor appearing in view. You know confidently that there will be as little room back here as there was in the workspace at the front; the bunks are bolted to the wall but barely big enough for human bodies, let alone avatars, but Jake already has a solution.
He sets you down, his hands already working to pull your shirt up and over the top of your head. Not that he has to work very hard at all — you’re already helping him undress you, pulling the shirt up over your head, marvelling at the wide-eyed look of excitement on Jake’s face.
“Missed these,” he says, carelessly tossing your shirt to the bunks off at the side. He wastes no time in moving closer to you, his mouth attaching itself to the curve of your breasts, his tail flicking happily at your noisy approval. 
With Jake mouthing around your nipple, the taunting graze of his teeth making you shudder, you let your body float into an astral plane of goodness and close your eyes, your head lulling to the side.
His eyes flicker up, greedily memorising every lift and twitch on your face until he catches sight of your hands sliding down your sides from his arms, fingers inching towards your little blue panties. He grins, tongue flat against your nipple, and after pressing a sloppy kiss to the side of where he’s been sucking, Jake breaks away and harmlessly slaps his hands over yours, holding them in place as you hook your fingers under the panty fabric.
“It’s like you’re doing this to me on purpose,” he groans, lips pressing kisses all across and down your body as his mouth makes its way to the smooth skin of your tummy. Jake rubs his thumbs in circles on your lower stomach, eyes finding yours. 
“Doing what?”
“Being so fucking sexy,” mutters Jake, his tongue licking like a lion against your naval. The feeling makes you squirm and laugh slightly, your hands flying up from the clasp of his hands to the sides of his head. 
There had been the expectation that perhaps human Jake would roll himself towards you once he got back, excited and turned on by your uncharacteristic lack of clothing. Instead, it had been avatar Jake who found you first, but it’s not as though your efforts have exactly gone to waste. If anything, they are met with the highest amount of appreciation.
Jake tugs the top of your panties with his teeth, moving them off your skin and down until he can see the sloping curve of your pubis, until he can smell the lust between your folds. Stopping him from stripping you bare is the last thing you want, but still, you look down at him playfully.
“Do you really need to take all my clothes off, Sully?” you ask, feeling his teeth graze on your skin as he unwillingly releases your panties from his mouth.
“Yes,” he replies, like it was obvious. Why would he want you to stand there in your panties all night when there were more fun things to do?
“Well, what about you?” Your hands slowly trail down from his face to his broad shoulders, fingers ghosting across the darker lines etched into his skin. Jake shudders slightly, his ears pricked tall, and they twitch in amusement when you point out the same thing he did when he bent you down over the rock.
“One of us is halfway there, and it’s not you.”
Between his legs, same as always, hangs his tewng, perfectly and teasingly in place of the large growth hiding beneath, and your eyes glance at them pointedly. Your gaze lingers there until Jake takes the hint, his smile turning lop-sided as he sniggers and reluctantly pulls away from you.
“As you wish,” he croons, his hands swiftly shifting to the flimsy little string that he so courageously entrusts to hold his tewng together. Full of anticipation, you roll back on the heels of your feet as the knot undoes behind his back, and the strings cascade down as the fabric loosens and pools to the floor in a puddle.
Jake's cheeks are aching with how much he’s smiling. Any cool composure he wanted to pretend he had is betrayed by the smile that has taken up permanent residence on his face, the enthusiastic swish of his tail beating against his back and the floor behind him. 
With your eyes still trained on the stiff arousal between Jake’s legs, you bite your bottom lip in an effort to restrain yourself and smooth your hands over the weaved sheath fastened over his chest.
“Miss me?” Jake asks, eyes pinned to yours as you peel back the sheath and gently set his blade and armour to the side. Now, the only things on Jake’s body are your hands and the bands around his arms, tightly outlining both his muscles and pudges of blue skin.
“Shut up,” you mutter.
“I know you did,” he continues anyway, pressing a swift kiss to your stomach and hooking his fingers back through your panties. He appreciates the blue more than he’d care to admit — you probably didn’t do it on purpose, picking blue when it's the very colour of his existence, but it’s a nice touch despite that. “Can smell you.” 
Jake twists the fabric around his finger like a ringlet and drags the panties down your legs, and once they’re bunched down by your ankles, he takes a deep inhale and secures his gaze between your legs, his chest rising and falling.
His hands instantly shift to your thighs, holding them as he gently, yet forcefully, widens your feet apart. Your pussy parts with the movement, the wet smell filling Jake’s nose like a drug. Behind him, his tail thumps against one of the stack of black storage boxes, and he groans with pleasure.
“Fucking perfect,” he says, a thumb moving to swipe up the partition of your pussy. The familiar feeling of it swiping makes you tense up, hands tightening around Jake’s shoulders. “My perfect girl.” 
With another kiss planted against your naval, Jake pulls you closer to him, mumbling under his breath and against your skin a string of words you can barely hear.
He saves himself the unflattering carpet burn from shimmying across Grace’s rug and picks himself up, one hand on the floor and his other arm and hand keeping you flush against him while he adjusts himself on the ground. 
Once he’s lying flat on the floor on his back, he grins up at you and guides you over him, gaze flashing to the approaching pussy he wants nothing more than to shove his face into.
“Come’ere,” he says quietly, tapping a finger against his chin while trying to bring you closer with his other hand. It would be very easy for Jake to just pull you forward — you’re not a weak human being, but you still have nothing on his Na’vi strength, and you know this. 
You slowly step towards him, your feet on either side of his body, a warm flush engulfing you as you stare down in amazement at the eagerness of Jake’s expression, the giddy movements of his body. He can barely stay still.
“You…want me to sit on your face?”
“Clearly.”
Though you’re already straddling him, hands trembling, you ask, “What if you suffocate and die?”
At that, Jake laughs, sliding his hands up the length of your legs and pushing down slightly, until your knees buckle and you’re all but hovering over his lips, feeling the chuckles of laughter brush against your bare skin.
“It’s the only way I’d wanna go,” he tells you. “A true warrior’s death.”
You scoff, anxiously positioning above him. “How would I explain that to Grace?”
“With pride, hopefully,” and then he helps bring you down until you're comfortably positioned over his mouth, his tongue flat against you, your own mouth suddenly falling into a circular shape of pleasure.
“Oh!” you gasp. Although Jake has been between your legs before, it hadn’t felt like this. The refined, little, rough ridges of Jake’s tongue brush against you; his tongue feels like a cats in texture, prone and wet as you slowly grind across it, Jake’s hands back around your body though he barely even moves you. 
Almost as soon as you take a seat on his tongue, Jake groans again, the satisfied sound grumbling from his throat and against your cunt. In all of his attempts to relive the memory of being between your legs, Jake forgot how good you tasted.
Around your waist, his hands tighten before adjusting themselves to help move you against his mouth, his tongue curling up once you’re coated in your own juice and his saliva. 
There is a slight ringing in your ears that you’re thankful for, but the sound of Jake against your pussy is no doubt erotic, making Jake’s body twitch and his cock harden uncomfortably up against his stomach.
You’re cautious with putting all of your weight on Jake’s head, still lifting up instinctively off his mouth as he runs his tongue across your pussy, prodding the top against your hole and gorging himself on your taste.
The feeling of his mouth so firm against you is intense compared to the other night, where Jake had all but pinned you down with his arm and had his way. He seems to grow fed up with your caution and his hands tighten around you, bringing you down to rest your weight entirely on his face. He groans, arms and hands locked in place, his ears smushed by your knees.
“Fuck,” he grumbles, his baritone voice vibrating against you. You moan at that, your hands coming to fist at the pretty beads hanging down by his face. If the tug hurts, he doesn’t show it; Jake only moves you harder against his mouth, his eyes tightly closed in pleasure until they all of a sudden burst open, his golden irises boring up into your face as you stare back.
You watch his eyes flickering from side to side, memorising every pull and tug against your features as you grind yourself on his mouth. His tongue is hot against you, his hands curling around your thighs possessively to hold you in place. 
Now that the feeling of him plush against your pussy is more familiar, you chase his tongue, moving against him until he’s prodding exactly where you need him the most. 
Jake’s mouth shifts, his tongue flicking against your clit while his hand slides from your thigh to the gap between your legs. One of his fingers stirs up the slicky wetness residing between your folds before slowly pushing up, slipping past the clenching resistance of your hole. Without meaning to, you smack your hips down on Jake’s face, feeling his finger sink up to the knuckle inside of you as a low grunt sounds from his throat. 
You’re somewhat relieved that Jake is in his avatar and can withstand the full weight of your body throttling him, but he almost seems to relish in the feeling, a second finger wiggling its way past your folds and up your snatch with the other. The thick widening of his fingers makes you gasp, toes curling, and one of your hands releases his hair and grips at the stack of boxes behind Jake’s head.
“Mmf—fuck, Jake,” you rasp, voice broken and high and whiney. A shaky exhale catches in your throat as his fingers fuck inside of you, and your hips seem to have a mind of their own as they rise and fall over his hand like his fingers were his cock — you’re bouncing slowly on them while he smirks to himself, tongue flicking over your swollen clit, mouth and chin smothered in saliva and juice.
“You likin’ that, honey?” he asks, planting a sloppy kiss on your thighs as he curls his fingers inside of you. “Feel good?”
“Uh huh,” you whine. At this point, you cannot bring yourself to look at him and all of his smugness. You feel his smile widen against your thigh as he nips at the skin, licking a stripe before turning his mouth back to your pussy. 
“God… Jake, oh my—” You don’t finish that sentence, don’t even get the chance to.
It is embarrassing how close to an orgasm you feel. Jake’s barely begun, barely spent any time at all between your thighs and yet you can feel your body seizing, a small ball of warmth expanding inside of you. Jake’s eyes are still glued to you and the arched view of your body over his face, and you can practically feel his gaze burning into you, willing you to look back at him.
“You gonna cum up there, baby girl?” mumbles Jake, his voice muffled by your pussy. If it weren’t for the vibrations his voice sends up your pussy making you aware of his question, you might have missed it over the sound of your moaning and whimpering.
His fingers prod at the spongey insides of your pussy, one prod in particular making your hips buck furiously across his mouth.
Jake makes a noise of happy surprise, and like the smug asshole he is, he repeats the action, fucking his finger into the spot that makes you wriggle on top of him. The unravelling warmth inside of you is spreading; you can barely feel your toes, your thighs shaking around him.
“Jesus, Spelly,” he chuckles, his erection so hard and uncomfortable by his belly button that he grumbles to himself. That needs to be attended to immediately, if you weren’t so stubborn as to drag out the orgasm you so obviously want to have. 
Jake moves his fingers faster inside of you, the other hand that’s around your thigh snaking to your hips to sink you down harder against him. You feel his knuckles at your entrance, his tongue pausing lazily at your clit.
“I—” you gasp, voice catching with surprise. Then, to his amazement, you frantically look down at him with a wide-eyed look of desperation. “Can I—?”
“Yep,” he grunts, greedily holding you firmly against his mouth as your hips rut like an animal. After a humiliatingly small amount of time, you feel your entire body tense with a blistering heat, and when you cum onto Jake’s tongue, it is the sweetest relief.
The burst of sweet white fluid that drips into Jake’s mouth is taken with desperation. Jake’s tongue coaxes it all out of you, his voiced approval rumbling into your pussy as he drinks it up. Meanwhile, your head is positively spinning, your vision white and starry and limbs numbed. You can barely catch your breath, and you have no idea how Jake is still alive down there, the mask around his neck virtually forgotten. 
When Jake has finally milked all that he can from your cunt, he gently pushes you up and off his mouth, your whole lower body trembling like a rabid dog as he shifts you down onto his chest. Your cunt is fluttering with the absence of his tongue and fingers, the heartbeat between your legs pulsing intensely as you stare down at Jake’s face.
You’ve never seen a man more content with a mouthful of your cum before. A sheen of white coats his tongue as he laughs breathlessly, his pupils wide. Then, as though he’s only just remembered that he needs to breathe, Jake fumbles for his mask and pulls it up over his face, gulping down the CO2 whilst simultaneously trying to compose himself. 
“My god,” he splutters, his chest rumbling beneath you as he laughs again. You feel sticky all over. “I love this pussy, Spellman.”
The compliment tears a laugh from your throat. “Gee, thanks.”
Laughter fills the space between you for a moment, but when you look at Jake he’s looking up at the ceiling, his mouth parted and his breaths heavy, the mask still in his hand by his chin. Now that he’s gone quiet in an effort to catch his breath, you come to the abrupt realisation that you’re in the lab, in the bunk chamber, sitting naked on Jake’s chest after cumming in his mouth. 
It feels hilarious all of a sudden, though you don’t voice the amused vision in your mind. Jake seems content doing whatever he’s doing, a dazed look on his face, and for a moment, you sit there until your thighs clench and the sticky cum between your thighs begins to dry, and then you slowly heave yourself up off him.
Lifting his head up off the floor, Jake startles and looks at you in confusion. “What’re you doing?”
“Getting up,” you wince as you move, but Jake’s frown deepens. He lets the mask fall by the side of his neck, his hands speedily rushing to your waist to lock you in place. 
“What? No, no, no, no, we’re not done yet,” Jake blurts, his brows high and eyes wide. 
“More?” you ask, surprised.
“Obviously,” he splutters, bemused. “Don’t be so selfish, I’ve been missing you like crazy out there.” 
You fall down the length of his body as Jake sits up, your pussy brushing past the hard tip of his cock. You gnaw at your lip bashfully — okay, maybe you had somehow forgotten about that. 
His cock sits between your bodies, the thick and tense figure of it flat against your stomach as Jake leans his face towards yours with a disgraced look of unhappiness.
“You thought you were gonna cum and then just get off?”
“At least let me catch my breath,” you laugh helplessly.
“You’ll live,” he tuts. “Goddamn. Definitely Norm’s sister, you’re cold.”
Hearing the childish whine in his voice makes you laugh out loud, though his look of unhappiness softens when you smile at him, stroking the side of his face.
“Aw, come on, big guy, you don't mean that,” you try, pushing yourself up against the tight wedge between your bodies. He flinches slightly, the crease between his brows lifting with intrigue. Try all he wants, but he soon gives up on looking displeased and grins back at you. 
“You don’t even have to do anything,” Jake suggests thoughtfully, his face tilted as he tries to entice you. 
In all honesty, you have no protests against fucking Jake. In fact, the thought of his cock being buried in your stomach again is nothing short of a need for you. He’s not the only one who’s been thinking about it all this time — it’s not a competition, but you’ve been daydreaming about the cock between his legs a lot longer than he’s been thinking about you.
“All you’d need to do is sit on it, really.” You tune back into Jake’s voice. You don’t know how much you missed, but the message is abundantly clear.
You smooth your hands down his neck, fiddling with the beaded choker. “I don’t think it can fit in today.”
Jake barks out a laugh. “Please. It fit fine before, princess.”
“Yeah, before you destroyed my vagina permanently. I’ll be too tight!”
That only makes Jake look more pleading. “That’s a good thing!”
“Jake, I—”
“Fine, then just the tip,” he tries, surging forward and pressing a desperate kiss to your lips. You taste the tangy sweetness of your cunt that Jake loves so much on his lips; seeing him so desperate for you to sit on his cock would be funny if it weren’t so sexy.
You bite your lip in thought as he peppers a string of kisses across your face, as if trying to persuade you.
“You only have to take the tip, that’s all. You’re dripping, you’ll take it no problem, but you don’t even have to work or do anything. I’ll do everything.”
“You’re begging,” you state flatly.
“I know,” he drawls in a whine that makes you roll your eyes. “But you’re my woman and I need this pussy like a fucking flower needs water.”
“According to Norm’s research,” you start, reaching for the tip of his cock with a hidden smile, “rainwater and Pandora plants are—”
“Fuck,” Jake laughs into your mouth, his teeth bared in a grin as he kisses you between his words, “off. You’re so annoying.” Another kiss, though his heart soars when your body rises slightly off his thighs, “Always yappin'.” His tail thrums excitedly behind him as you position yourself over his cock, brows knitted together. “Always going on and on about something.”
“You want me to sit on it or not?” you ask bluntly, but your half hearted attempt at sternness is seen through immediately.
“Hell yeah, mama,” he quips, hands already busy on your hips as he tries to sink you down on his cock. 
You stifle a laugh at his eagerness. Who would have guessed that Jake would be begging you to let him fuck you? Two days ago, it would have been hard to imagine.
“Shut up then,” you mutter, but he graciously says very little besides his own personal vocabulary of vulgar words when the tip of his cock pushes into you. 
It goes in so easily that you know Jake is trying his absolute hardest to remain true to his word. Your pussy lets him in with virtually no refusal, swallowing the tip of his cock so flawlessly that he physically tenses, his hands tightening around you as he lifts you up and down on the tip, being ever so careful as to not accidentally sink you all the way down to the base.
Even just the tip of his dick elicits such a primal response from your throat, your eyes blown open. Jake’s barely given you breathing room since your last orgasm, and the overstimulating feeling of his cockhead loyally spearing inside of you is mind-blowing. 
He grunts desperately against your mouth, eyes closed as he tries to reign in his deepest impulses. You press a kiss to his lips; you know how hard it is for him to hold himself back. It is as though your body is remembering who he is, how his cock felt deep inside of you, and when you next feel Jake’s hands lifting you up off the tip and sinking you back down, his eyes immediately blow open when he feels you clench around him like a fist.
“I—shit,” he blurts, momentarily letting go as you sink back down on his cock, the tip of it pushing deeper inside of you as more of his cock pistons inside. He looks apologetic for a moment, because he didn’t mean for you to take more than the tip when that was all he had promised, but after hearing the strangled and high-pitched moan that escapes your lips, he rides his hope for a moment and curls his arms around your body, moulding his mouth against yours.
“Goddamn,” Jake whispers, catching every gasp and breath you take and give. “That’s right, beautiful, you can do it.”
Whimpering, your trembling hands come to hold his waist while he lounges back, his back leaning trustingly against the stack of crates under the window, his hands remaining firm around your body. Jake watches in anticipation as you drag yourself up off his cock, leaving behind a shining trail of juice down the deep blue of his length. 
While you’re up there, Jake takes a quick gulp of CO2 — the sound of him taking a deep breath as he contents himself with watching you makes your heartbeat quicken, although you’re much more focused on sliding your pussy across his tip, the roundness of it slipping up your slit while a litany of moans produce from your mouth.
And then, by happy surprise, Jake realises he doesn’t have to fight it anymore when you go to slowly sink back down on him and slip, half of his dick disappearing up your cunt with almost no resistance whatsoever, and the breathless gasp that fills his ears is nothing short of sinful.
“Fuck yeah,” he moans, sitting up restlessly with his lips on your mouth again, as his hands complete his desire of sinking his cock deeper up your pussy. You whimper into him, the dull ache in your stomach intensifying when you feel his dick spearing up into your cunt, his hips rutting underneath you. 
He did his best, but he can’t hold back anymore. The sight of you swallowing up his cock is the very picture of perfection. 
It was one thing seeing you with your legs spread on that rock. It’s another thing entirely to have you around his dick like a flesh-light.
“You said just the tip,” you whimper.
“You slipped, I didn’t make you take more of it.”
“I—” You groan as his hand grips around your waist like you’re just a doll. “God, you’re so big.”
“Yeah,” he sniggers, lips still against yours like he’s glued there. “But look how well you take me.”
Your attempts to make him feel bad are pathetically wasted; you’re drenched, your wetness like a lube to Jake as he pistons his hips upwards. The squelch between you is embarrassingly loud, although to Jake it is the most heavenly sound in the world. 
He grunts into your mouth, softly whispering encouraging yes’ into every word you attempt to speak but fail at saying.
“A perfect fit,” Jake mumbles, his tongue flicking past your lips with a gasping grunt, “’s'like I was made for you.”
There’s nothing you can say to that, nothing coherent at least. In your best effort to please Jake, you suck in a deep breath and lift, only to bottom out and sink to the base of his cock. It feels like Jake’s buried near your lungs; he’s so deep, much deeper than he felt at the rock. 
Jake shifts back against the boxes stacked behind him. Then, he gracefully lifts his hips, shoving more of himself up there until he can see the dent of his dick in your tummy. He groans appreciatively, eyes darting back to your face after marvelling at the size of him buried inside of you.
“You’re so good,” he mutters, his breath kind of shaky as he takes in the image of you, looking all spent on his cock. He picks up on the struggling shake of your legs and feels your cunt tighten around him. “Lemme fuck you nice, mama.”
The speed at which you go limp on his cock tells him you have no protests. Jake secures his wide hands around your waist and tightens, focusing all of his energy into his arms as he lifts you up his cock and slams you back down. Both of you moan at the same time, and the clear image of you fucked out and exhausted in his lap makes his dick twitch inside of you.
A heat simmers between your legs — Jake has reduced you to a hole to fuck and you can’t even be bothered to move anymore. You can trust that your body will make room for him, and you can trust that Jake will be careful as he has his way with you. With that in mind, you relax like putty in his hands, shapeless as he fucks into you.
For a while, Jake says nothing of significance. It is as though he is buffering or on a loop, entirely focused on jerking you on his dick, his pupils blown black and wide as he zones out on the sweat lining your chest, the soft rise and fall of your tits as you bounce on his crotch. You watch him the whole time, eyes half-lidded and glazed but unmoving; he is a man in Heaven, in his greatest element. 
There is nowhere he would rather be than here, and there is nothing you’d rather be doing than giving your body up for the man you have become completely enamoured with.
One particular thrust inside of you makes you cry out unexpectedly, and his eyes flicker back up to find yours. His dick punches back up to where he last found himself, desperately searching for the spot that made you cry out, and when he finds it, a lazy smirk lifts on his lips.
“You’re a dream.”
Your mouth opens, and another blubbery cry falls out without you thinking: “Yes…m'yours, Jake..."
Not exactly what he said, but his chest swells with pride regardless.
“Damn straight,” he grunts, flicking his hips roughly. You choke a noise of surprise, feeling the coil of pleasure tighten in your belly right as Jake for some reason begins to move. He picks himself up off the rug and lifts you, spinning until he finds a surface he can set you down on. The first thing he finds is the little desk near the door, and he clears it with a sweep of his arm and wraps his arms around you tightly.
The cool metallic surface makes you shudder, although, with the way he spears himself back inside of you, the warmth quickly returns to consume your body. Jake bows his chest over you, fucking himself between your legs and watching with fascination at his cock disappearing past your folds. It looks the same as it did last time, to his delight, and he sucks in a hiss of breath, reaching for the mask again.
“Mmm, Jake, I really can’t anymore,” you rasp out, wrapping your legs desperately around his waist and clinging to the round shape of his biceps. He groans loudly once the mask falls back down from his face, his lips curling to a pout.
“You can’t cum yet,” he protests dumbly.
“Jake,” you say again, already feeling your orgasm threatening to spill. His eyes flash with worry, though you can’t imagine what he might have to be worried about. “I need to—”
“Please,” he says, pressing a kiss to your cheek quickly, his voice a mumble against your skin as he says, “just a bit longer.”
You whimper right into Jake’s ear, his hips staggering into you for a second. More than anything, you want to find your release, to give up and let go and take a breather, but the desperation to make Jake happy finds itself taking precedence. 
In your heart, you know that Jake is currently on cloud nine, overjoyed just with fucking you like this — if you came right now, it wouldn’t be the end of the world. More than likely, he’d just carry on. Still, you tug at your bottom lip with your teeth and your whole cunt clenches tightly around him, which he takes as a silent order to keep going, and he receives the message loud and clear.
Now, he is a man on a mission — see how long you can go until you cum all over him.
Jake would happily spend all night between your legs, fucking the hole he’s stamped his name on, filling you up with so much cum you’d be finding it for days. Something chemical has happened to him since acting on his greatest desires; he dreads to think what he’d be doing, how he’d be feeling if he hadn’t been inspired by Norm’s hatred. 
To think that he’d be at his party in the village, maybe being swarmed by curious Omatikaya women with fascinations for their newest clan member, potentially even trying to redirect the feelings he has elsewhere… 
No. He schools the thoughts into silence. Why fret over the what-ifs when the present is the most perfect thing in the universe?
Jake drives his hips forward, shifting his lips from your cheek to your mouth and accepting the breathless kiss you eagerly give him. Your arms slacken; you keep one hand poised loyally on his bicep while the other reaches for the side of his face, fisting around one of the dishevelled braids to the side of his head. The burn of you tugging on them is barely even noticeable, or if it is, he doesn’t show it. Jake just presses his mouth against yours with a profound laziness, his hips slowing as he thrusts into you at a comfortable pace.
A part of you bursts open; as Jake pounds into your pussy in an uncharacteristically slow manner, he kisses you each time his cock burrows back inside. Your face is unbelievably hot as one of his thick arms curves around your back and appears by the side of your head, hand cradling your face. He has you pinned in place, yet with such little force that it would be easy for you to slither free if you wanted.
You want nothing less. Not when Jake is kissing you like it’s his favourite thing in the world to do. Not when your body is so numb and warm you can barely even feel your legs anymore. Not when the man you would do anything for is right where he belongs — up your snatch, on your mouth, smiling between each kiss.
His tail swirls from side to side slowly, content as he listens to the wet sound of your mouth against his own, the squelch of your drenched pussy filling his ears as they prick to hear himself sinking inside of you. Jesus fuck, you’re so wet — if it wasn’t making you so turned on at the thought of Jake being over the moon from the sound of it, then you’d be squirming in embarrassment.
Jake grins into your mouth, sniggering as the soaking sloppy sounds grow more pronounced. Knowing that he’s grinning because of that, and because he knows he’s the cause of it, your bottom lip curls into a pathetic whimper.
“Hear that?” It’s obvious that you can, he knows that. 
How he wishes you could smell it the way that he can — the smell of the sticky mess between both of your legs is nothing short of incredible; it's so sweet that when he inhales he almost shudders. You wouldn’t even need heightened Na’vi senses to smell the sex in the air, to smell Jake on your skin, to smell you over Jake’s face and body. 
A witty reply is on the tip of your tongue, but as Jake kisses you again, slobber around his mouth and yours, you can no longer fight the bubbling pleasure in your abdomen, the pressure that gets heavier the longer you hold out. 
Jake takes a sharp intake of breath, as if he can smell the distinct change in your body, the orgasm lapping over itself like a tidal wave until it breaches the surface — but his thrusting does not cease, not even when your entire body shakes beneath him, legs falling limp around his waist. And not even when he feels a wet warmth burst up over his chest, a horrified yet pleasured squeal ripping from your mouth as he glances down and sees your gushing release, the billows of cum pushing past the tight fit of his cock, and a shiny layer of juice on his chest.
He blinks in surprise, his eyes wide, and when his nose fills with the smell of you, the smell of your squirt over his torso, he laughs unexpectedly and lifts his head with the widest grin you’ve seen.
"Shit,” he laughs in disbelief, kissing away the aghast gape on your face. 
Even as he chuckles into you, you feel your face burning with embarrassment. It’s one thing to cum on Jake’s cock. It’s another thing to squirt on him. It’s an entirely different thing for Jake to find it hilariously sexy.
“I’m so sorry!” you blurt, hands immediately cupping Jake’s face. His nose furrows as his face twists, both in amusement and confusion.
“Why’re you saying sorry?” he asks, still trying to reign in his disbelieving laughs. It’s been a hot second since he made anyone squirt that hard, no less squirt down his chest. 
“I didn’t mean to do that,” you explain breathlessly. You barely even register the fact that Jake’s still thrusting into you until the numbness of your body subsides and each thrust upwards is met with a cry of overstimulated pleasure. “I’ve never done that, I—”
“You’re incredible,” Jake grins affectionately. You’re incredible.
Jake thinks he could go on for hours. He could go on until daybreak, until he heard the whirs of Trudy’s Samson over the top of the lab; he would continue fucking you until Norm stepped inside, until he found you both back here. But when you stare at him exhaustedly and smile back, his heart lurches out of his chest and changes his mind for him.
You feel Jake’s dick twitch inside of you, the feeling making you jolt slightly as he thrusts in a few more times, as if milking every last inch of your pussy until he’s forced to withdraw, and then he staggers forward, moaning loudly with a tight and sharp hiss, and a familiar warmth spurts in your stomach.
Jake’s back is bent over, his chest bowed over yours as he shudders through his orgasm; the unmistakable warmth of his cum pools in your stomach, ropes of it filling you up until it slips down past your quivering hole to the table beneath your ass and back. He groans a few times, fumbling for the mask before pressing it to his mouth. 
“Yeah,” you sigh. You could very well be floating up off the table for all you knew. 
Peering down at the sight of his hard dick still snuggled in your cunt, you watch the thick trails of his cum squeezing out of you. You kiss his temple while his head is still hanging low and mutter, “Fill me up, big guy.”
Jake moans, lips sealed closed — actually, it sounds more like a sob. “Jesus.”
“Give it to me,” you continue, murmuring the words against his head. Hey, you’re feeling much bolder now that he’s exhausted himself and you don’t have to worry about having another orgasm denied and then ripped out of you. 
Jake chuckles breathlessly, all of the breath back in his lungs now that he’s emptied himself inside of you. “Didn’t you say you were glad humans couldn’t get knocked up by Na’vi?”
“No? When?”
He scoffs, eyes lifting to yours as he levels you with a challenging look. “Oh, so you want that? Want me to breed you like a dog, Spellman? Fill you up, watch that tummy grow?”
The revelation of Jake’s unexpected breeding kink makes you laugh. Once, Jake had told the lab that he didn’t know if he wanted kids — didn’t think he’d be a good father, didn’t think he’d be able to cope with the pressure of it. Perhaps it’s his Na’vi instincts calling out in a tune, making him besotted with the idea, but either way, you grin at him playfully and press a kiss to his mouth. 
“Nah,” you assure him. His smile neither fades nor grows, thank goodness. “I’m in no rush for any of that, Sully.”
He sniggers, then. “Me too,” and after a quick kiss he slowly heaves himself out of you, watching your jaw slacken as he slides out with a sickeningly loud pop. “It’s fucking sexy to say it, though.”
Suddenly, as if he forgot for a moment, Jake’s head cranes to your cunt and as his cum swells near your hole, he grins and watches it as it threatens to drool out. When it does, down your ass cheek and onto the surface of the table, his tail thrashes in joy and his fangs glint in the light. 
“Yummy,” he says, swiping his thumb across the little puddle of your cum and his and he sucks his lips around it, the little smack of his lips as he pulls it away making your thighs clamp together. “You taste good, honey.”
“It’s more you than me.”
Jake rises, his back still bent due to the low ceiling of the lab, but even now he’s looming over you, his hands reaching to help pull you up from your uncomfortable position to sit upright. You lift with a comically dramatic groan, and Jake rolls his eyes as you hunch forward, hands massaging your thighs sorely.
“I’m broken again,” you mumble, feeling the burn in your muscles as Jake takes himself to where his bunk is and fetches a towel from one of his storage boxes. By the time he gets back, the puddle of cum between your legs has doubled in size. 
“You’ll manage,” Jake tells you affectionately, laying the towel flat in his best attempt to milk up the cum still pulsing out of you. He looks at the towel with a cringe — he can only hope the smell and colour will come out in the laundry.
After Jake’s done his best to clean you up, he takes himself to the laundry shoot and tosses the towel inside, making his way back to you quickly before you can stand up and stalk off somewhere. 
“I brought you something, actually,” he tells you, suddenly thinking back to the gift he has strapped to his ikran’s leathers outside. 
You hum vaguely. “Oh, really?”
“Yeah. Neytiri helped me think of it before I got here. Just something quick and silly, but you’re gonna—”
“Oh, yeah,” you interrupt, reminded of how Jake ended up here in the first place. “Are you sure it was a good idea telling Neytiri that you already had a woman?”
Jake pauses. “What do you mean?”
“Nothing like that. Just that… Well, won’t she say something to the other villagers?” you think aloud. It had been on your mind in passing when Jake first told you when he’d arrived, but now that it’s back in your head, you can see Jake processing the thought before dropping to his haunches in a valiant effort to see you evenly. 
“She’s close with the village, that’s all,” you continue. “And with Grace, I imagine.”
He blinks dumbly. “Oh yeah.”
For a second, nothing is said. How could Jake have not thought of that?
Realistically, you know that Jake was just excited to tell someone that he had a woman in his life — you hadn’t been presumptuous enough to believe that Jake couldn’t find someone even if he hadn’t acted on his impulses a few nights ago, but even now that you know he meant you after all, you can’t help but think of all the ways it may come back to bite you in the ass.
“I mean,” Jake says slowly, tail flicking, “I was hoping we’d tell people eventually. I don’t wanna hide with you forever.”
“Wait, you want to tell people?”
He looks at you with a funny look of bemusement. “Obviously.”
“About us fucking?”
“What? Well, I mean, yes, in a sense, but more like that we’re together.”
“…Are we?”
“I thought you were the smart one.”
“I’m just… You wanna be with me?” you ask. You’re almost certain that you look and sound stupid, based on the way Jake is staring at you with a wild look of alarm, but, can he blame you? You were just about getting around Jake wanting to sleep with you — now, he’s basically asking you out.
Jake splutters out a nervous laugh. “Was that seriously not obvious?”
You don’t allow him to feel nervous as you reach for his arms in reassurance. The feeling of your hands around his wrists calms him almost immediately. 
“If you want to be my man, Jake Sully, there are requirements to meet.” His brows curve curiously, though the sloping smile on his face reappears, to your relief. “I will also need to speak with human Jake Sully about this development. This relationship goes three ways, as you know.”
“Fair enough,” he says, doing his best not to laugh at how cute he thinks you are. “I’m sure he’d be more than happy for you to just forget all about him, though.”
“Never gonna happen,” you stress to him. “And I need quality time with you. If we fuck all the time, I’m scared my vagina will actually break beyond repair. You have two bodies to please me with, I’ve only got the one. You have to go easy on me.”
“Noted,” he nods. It’s sweet how seriously he’s taking all of this. 
“And, last but not least…” You trail off and reach forward to kiss his lips again. Jake’s eyes flutter closed — his lips are still slightly tingly from kissing you stupid. You pull away all too quickly for his liking, and when he opens his eyes to look for you, his entire face softens affectionately. “We need to do something about Norm.”
Sighing dramatically, Jake weighs the very difficult options in his head. 
Become his woman by spending more time with you? Easy. Consider it already done. But kill all the fun and tell Norm before he figures it out the hard way? Jake’s lips curl into a scowl at the thought of such a marvellous opportunity going wasted.
“How about…we do all of that and let Norm find out by himself?” Jake suggests. It’s an even trade — you’ll both get what you want, and you’ll both feel scores of satisfaction at the end of it.
When you don’t say anything for a moment, Jake is prepared to sign his defeat and give in, but then, when you grin at him and shrug, he hears the holy gates of Heaven open up in his favour and the angels sing.
Yep. You’re his. He’s yours. 
Now he just can’t wait for everyone else to find out about it.
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yawnetu · 17 days
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Neteyam + Otter
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yawnetu · 18 days
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i’m bouncing on it. slurping it. choking on it. rubbing it on my face. slapping it on my tongue. stacking donuts on it.
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yawnetu · 19 days
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🎆 — 𝐧𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐨𝐫 | 𝐥. 𝐬𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲 ( ᴅʀᴀʙʙʟᴇ )
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𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : Aged up!tattooed!Neteyam ✗ fem!human!reader
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 / 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 : AGED UP!NETEYAM — don’t like it? Please don’t read! implied!smut, spanking, teasing, heavy touching, tattooed!Neteyam being obsessed with reader’s tits, implied sex on the beach—Neteyam just loving on reader’s body, guys shsjdkdkdk—
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 : 1.5k+
𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬 : @bambithewriter @rivatar @jioohyo @property-of-neteyam @pandoraslxna @xstarsdiary @xylianasblog
author’s note : neteyam with tattoos. The vision, THE VISION GUYS. Lemme know what you think😭😭
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“You see now, narlor ( beautiful ), these right here—” The pair of tattooed hands which belonged to Neteyam had skidded from your bare waist to the scarcely clothed plumpness of your breasts, the perkiness of your nipples. Hands which held a great convenience in engulfing entirely, slender digits practically entwining around the expanse of your back from how much smaller you were than him, his palms delicately kneading the soft flesh. “These lovely girls brighten my day. If I am upset, they commit to making me content. If I am stressed, they relieve me. They relieve me far better than anything else on Pandora.”
While your current sitting position upon his tsurak made it much easier for you to meet him at an eye-level as he was within the water, the pressure of his touch accompanied by the hefty weight of his elongated frame leaning forward pushed you further against the side of his squirming tsurak.
“Teyam, baby,” The pair of dainty hands which belonged to you splayed over his ink etched shoulders to keep him from leaning forward. Hands which held purposeless strength when it came to be compared to Neteyam — or any other Na’vi for that matter. A giggle bubbled from your throat from the way that your ridiculously tall lover’s accent emphasized his words spoken in English while his affections dawdled every inch of you. “You play too much, you know that? I mean, you can’t be serious.”
“Uh, yeah I certainly am fucking serious.” The edges of his mouth twisted downwards, a form of a crease upon his striped forehead. “I adore every part of you, tìyawn. From those pretty eyes and pretty smile, that soft belly and thighs that are so plushy and drive me insane,” The extent of his tail wreathed around your thigh, its length nearly taking up the entire limb. “And do you want to know something else, hmm? Just by receiving a look from you after a long day of training, swimming and patrolling makes me so content…but when I get the opportunity to do more than just look at you, and I get to touch you,'' His head canted back, the subtle clink of his plaits accompanying the groan that breathed into the star-filled sky, and the desperate sound was nearly enough to make a whimper drawl out of you. “Great Mother, words can’t describe that amazing opportunity.”
Your bottom lip curled between your teeth, gnawing the supple flesh at the flawless sight you had of the pillar of his throat; the vivid twinkles of Neteyam’s freckles contrasting beautifully with the velvet blues of his skin beneath the night’s glow. The honed structure of his jawline contrasted beneath the beads of necklaces and tattooed art you had taken a passionate liking to.
His kuru was still entangled in the bond with his tsurak, mind giving a command to gently swim you to the coastline of Awa’atlu. While Neteyam followed along, that does not mean he paused the leisurely journey his touch made around your body; brushing from the outer curves of your breasts, finger pads grazing below your ribcage to encircle around your waist before a brim of some sort of curiosity crossed his features. His hands then deftly slid beneath you, and forgotten was the tsurak the moment the shore came to view.
“And this? This perfect ass of yours is so damn good for me, my love.”
The sharpness of his large palm colliding with the meat of your ass reverberated through Pandora’s atmosphere followed by your yelp of a stunned ‘hey!’. Stunned from both the vulgarity of his tongue and the outburst of his actions.
“Forgive me, narlor.” He chuckled endearingly, not resisting the urge to smack your ass once, then twice, applying almost all of his strength to the pressure which sent a wave of scorching heat across your neutral toned skin. You reached for him, planting your hands over his damp chest, the density of your lashes fluttering down as gleaming incisors scraped over the flushed apple of your cheek, softly biting down in a teasing manner until wisps of giggles flew from you.
“Yeah, that is the best of the best right there, is it not?” He mused, ear flitting near your jaw emphasizing his content. One arm now fully enclosed around your midsection, your forearms resting upon his shoulders while he made his way out the water which was halfway up his torso. He didn’t need to see to know which way he was going though. While he was entranced in the pretty depths of your eyes and let his forehead hover over yours, he was certain where he went.
“Well then, I believe I’m glad I could be of use to the mighty warrior.” you replied, the breathless and amusement of your voice bestowing how much you reveled in his act as one of your hands delicately soothed over your sore cheek. The other admiringly traced over the tattoos encircling his bicep, twisting and turning up across his defined collarbone and skimming up his neck, cheek, and temple, telling a story no other human would understand but you. Fingertips fiddled over the adorable flickers of his high perched wars, and soon threaded into the cascade of his dark braids.
He perhaps was not the only one completely enamored with every detail of his lover. But could you really be blamed? Every part of Neteyam was beyond captivating.
“Irayo ( thank you ).” Sharp incisors collided with the brilliance of his smile, squeezing his hold around you. In one smooth motion within the water, thanks to his inhuman strength, he hoisted you a bit higher so your legs now wrapped beneath his arms, chest now flushed against the length of his broad one, feeling the muscle’s tight coils, the immense heat he radiated despite being in the cool water.
You chewed your lip at how his large hand pushed into the small arch of your back, the subtle swirls of his tail due to excitement because of such proximity stirring you within.
Neteyam acknowledged how much you enjoyed being manhandled by him and him only — whether it be gently or unruly — and he never wasted any chance given to take action on it and witness the vulnerability you gained when he did, making the most of it in his time spent with you.
Long fingers glide up your throat, long enough to engulf the entire base, the index one curling around your jaw. His thumb gently pushed your chin up and slanting your head slightly up until you were met with the warrior’s resplendent irises.
“Yet do you know what, who else is the cause of my content?” He inquired, raking his (appealing) tongue over his lower lip.
The simple act had your thighs clench hard around him, a throbbing pulse flaring to existence between.
“N-no..” Lies. It was more than obvious by the feign of innocence glazing those pretty doe-like eyes.
His own eyes, gleaming and fierce, called out to you. Silent to others, yet soaring for your soul. His senses more than feel the spasms of heat from your every fiber, every curve. He released his hold on your face, both hands now enveloping your ass.
“You are certain of this, yawntutsyìp?”
“U-uh huh, yeah…” anticipation swelled in your chest as you shakily exhaled, mentally cursing for not having anything to physically support yourself other than Neteyam’s grand body. By now, his feet were already amongst the sand and you’re still being held up by him.
Without taking his sharp gaze off you, he slowly, so very slowly started to descend down to his knees in the middle of the beach. Though with his descent brought the ascent of your body, the intoxicating scent of your essence being inhaled by his flaring nose while your legs dangling over his shoulders. You could have been afraid, yet the trust felt for him and arousal growing outweighed that fear, and instead you let him do whatever it was he pleased.
He knew this from the mischief that struck his features as your back subtly met the damp sand, as you shuffled until you were propped on your elbows to look down at him and his large body slithered down, gazing up at you with love and lust.
He traced the abstaining desire on your face, thrill surging through the warrior. His face nestled against your tummy while nimble digits undid the twines of your own tewng, his nose and puckered lips feathering over the bare skin of your thighs while his hands slid lower and lower…
Eyes fell to the between your slightly parted legs, taking in the glistening appeal, and a soft smirk twisted his lips up. “May I show you just how much she makes me content?”
“I-if that’s what you wanna do…” Even you could not fall for your poor attempt at the facade of nonchalance.
His smirk spiraled, two fingers brushing down said curve between your thigh and hip bone before dipping down to your pussy the very exact time a wave came crashing along the shoreline, and if it weren’t for the shielding of his body you may have been caught in it. But somehow, the harsh sensations given from the ocean deliciously twisted something in your stomach when it came upon Neteyam’s silhouette, in a trance at the predator-like swivels of his tail.
He grinned widely against you, “Narlor, what I am about to do and my girl is going to make us very, very content…”
450 notes · View notes
yawnetu · 20 days
Text
Grovel: Part 1
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Pairing: Aged Up Lo'ak x Fem Omatikaya Reader
Summary: Lo'ak broke your heart all those years ago. If he plans to woo you once more it is going to take a lot more than a debonair grin.
Warnings: angst, aged up Lo'ak, future NSFW, broken hearts, cheating, swearing, etc.
A/N: I wrote the majority of this in a couple hours so.....it's rough.
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You prayed to Eywa it would fit. Getting Lo’ak’s measurements without him becoming suspicious had been a job in and of itself, but now it was sure to pay off. With your relationship being kept on the down low there were truly only a few ways you could publicly show your affection for the youngest Sully brother. Creating this arm band for him had been a delight and had set butterflies off in your stomach. 
There was something about the notion of forbidden love that had your heart racing at every moment the two of you stole together. It was new and exciting but even more than that it was a risk that made you feel alive. 
It was hard to believe that the two of you had gone from lifelong frenemies to lovers in only a few months. Of course the greatest level of intimacy you had shared were a few tender kisses and snuggling embraces. Lo’ak had  been your first kiss, sweeping you off your feet until every other ignorant young male had paled in comparison. 
Since then there had been no hope for your young heart to resist. It was everything and more that you had dreamed of since you were a child hearing of your parent’s own love story. Love had been found in the most unexpected of people but it was true. You could no longer deny how hard and fast you had fallen for the male. And tonight you were finally going to tell him. 
With a courting gift worthy for the mightiest of warriors your love would be proclaimed and hopefully his own would be there to reciprocate. 
A jittering tingle raced down your arms and legs, pushing you to run faster through the forest. It was a miracle you didn’t throw up from the motion after the way your own nerves had tied your stomach into knots. However, running gave your pent up energy somewhere to go and now more than ever you needed a release. Lo’ak didn’t know the two of you were meeting today.
That’s what made it all the better.
A perfect surprise the trickster himself would never see coming. 
He would be under the Tree of Souls as he always was in the afternoons, the place where he claimed to have his best thoughts. Someday he would surely tell you what those thoughts were but today you prayed his mind would be full of you. Just the way the bastard always managed to cram himself into every nook and cranny of your mind. It seemed only fair that he suffered the same. 
Light still prevailed but new colors painted the sky as Eclipse came inched closer.The tendrils of Vitraya Ramunong were already beginning to shimmer from where they hung. 
Your cheeks hurt from smiling when you spotted his slim form, even as your own knees trembled with anticipation. 
Just play it cool, you reminded yourself. There was no reason to worry so long as you managed to get out three little words. The intricate beads of the arm band started to create imprints in your palm from how tight you held it. 
One last steadying breath before you scaled down the tree trunk. A giggle almost escaped your throat when you had the brilliant idea to sneak up on him. Last week he had given you quite the scare while you were weaving a basket. Now would be the perfect time for payback.
“It’s so beautiful!”
Your feet scraped against the bark into a halt. 
“I told you this is the best time to come here.” Lo’ak responded and he wasn’t alone. From this new vantage point you could now see a smaller female figure behind him, her eyes casted upwards at the enchanting view of the Tree of Soul’s increasing glow. 
“Yes but I thought that was only your way of getting me alone.” Those long lashes fluttered back at him, a playful smile sweeping over her lips. Lo’ak shrugged, an ever familiar smirk lacing his own. 
“So what if it was? I didn’t see you putting up much of a fight.” 
“The best predators know the importance of giving their prey a false sense of security.” Her eyes danced with a maturity so beyond her years it was almost vulgar. Lo’ak’s tail whipped back and forth, eating up every taunting seduction from the palm of her hand. 
“Well I only let the prettiest girls catch me in their webs.” 
The distance was closed between them with only a few steps before she was reaching up on her toes and dragging him into a sinful kiss. One oh so different from the type you two had shared. A sensual kiss that you had only heard of but never experienced. And that was one thing you could tell from this other female, she wielded so much more power and experience than you ever could. 
Still that wasn’t what mattered because when they finally pulled apart for gasps of air it was sweet promises of affection and future mating that poured from Lo’ak’s lips. 
The same vows that had been clutching your heart over the past few months.
The same lullabies that filled your dreams with fantasies of your lives together. 
Today, they sang for her instead. 
You were foolish to think they ever belonged to you, nothing more than a beautiful mirage your first love had woven to snatch you up. 
A small sob alerted them to your presence. Eyes wide you only stared back at him for a moment before bolting to the trees.
The crafted armband abandoned on the ground. 
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Lo’ak had always been a pain in the ass. There was no better way to describe him. Not when he was your childhood nuisance turned to first love to then first heartbreak. The day his family left for Awa'atlu you tried to stay strong. At that point things had already been ruined between you. His player nature had been exposed and the male had only a week of trying to explain himself before the incident happened and the Sully family left the Omatikaya for good. 
Or at least, what you thought was for good. 
Their return had been something that many had hoped for but one that you had never allowed yourself to believe. Even when you were still in the mourning stages of your relationship and their disappearance you had fortified one single idea in your mind. Lo’ak leaving was for the best. It would allow you to move on.
And so you had. Taking much longer than you would have liked but slowly your hammock dried of tears and you began to focus on other things outside of the youngest Sully boy. Your foolish young heart had grown strong in wisdom and might. Your skills as a healer had become more polished with every day you spent under Mo’at’s instruction. Adulthood came and fell upon you in a way that suited your new talents and attitude. Not a day passed where you weren’t seeking to support the clan and People in one way or another. 
Tarsem was a wonderful Olo’eyktan. He led the People with the necessary vision and courage it took to keep the Sky People out of your lands. Some days came with great losses, exposing you to more curious injuries by their machines than you could have imagined in the healer’s tent. However, those days you took with pride too. The Omatikaya never lost heart. They never gave up on protecting their home. 
You weren’t the only ones either. Stories of battling demon ships traveled overseas, ingraining the memory of mighty Metkayina defending their lands and conquering against all odds. Each time those stories found their way to the fire’s circle you had tried not to envision Lo’ak’s part in all of it. Some days were easier than others. And yet some you couldn’t shake the visual of the warrior that you patched up in front of you being a certain Sully boy and not another Omatikaya warrior. It frustrated you to no end the lengths of your care for him but over time you made peace with the fact that his death was never announced.
And that was good enough.
Because that fact was the only one he had deserved for you to care about and nothing more.  
It had taken years, the battle shaping so much of your shift from adolescence into adulthood. When all was said and done, however, the Sky People burned the forest with their demon ships one last time and then they too became nothing more than a star in the night sky. A celebration unlike any other had immediately gone underway. Your older sister, Talu, could hardly breathe with how many beaded and feathered tops she had been commissioned to construct for various men and women in the clan. 
Your own work had graciously slowed down and for the first time since perhaps the day those demons invaded Pandora, you relaxed. 
Peace was not yours to be had, however. 
You had been halfway through washing in the hot springs when the news had come. The Sully family was set to return by the night of the celebration. And not to visit but to reclaim the throne and be herded back as one of the Omatikaya once more and forever. The shrieking females that had run to tell their other friends didn’t seem to notice when you accidentally swallowed and choked on a mouthful of spring water. 
They were too busy hypothesizing what the Sully brothers would look like now. Some even made bets on whether or not they would be returning home unmated. The conversation had been the opposite of peace, prompting you to sneak away and have your panic attack in the privacy of your own home. 
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“Will you stop squirming for one minute?” Talu reprimanded but an amused giggle laced her voice. 
“Ma Talu, please tell me you are almost done.” Another pearl was carefully strung through your long wavy hair. 
“Art takes time.” She smiled softly. “And that’s what you are. A magnificent piece of art.” 
Talu had not necessarily been wrong in her statement. After the countless hours she had put into constructing your curved top out of rare gems and strung your hair with bioluminescent pearls, you had transformed into something of ethereal beauty. And yet, the last thing you wanted was to stand out. What had started as a celebration to be anticipated had for you turned into a nightmare just waiting to happen. 
Eywa had given you three days to prepare for tonight. Three whole days where you had solidified your resolve and reminded yourself that Lo’ak Sully was no longer anyone but another clan member to you. You were going to be cordial and respectful like you would another clan brother but no flicker of even remembering your past with him. Not a single mention of how he had shattered your young heart into a million pieces and left you there to weave it back together for years. 
The old you was dead and with that so was your relation to him. 
It still didn’t ease your dread however. As Na’vi of all ages gathered around hometree and looked to the skies, you had scrambled to look for an excuse to be elsewhere. The air buzzed with excitement and every yip and call in anticipation felt like the chiming of a clock to you. One second closer to facing a part of your past you had buried too deep. 
Talu had been immersed in the excitement with everyone else. You had never told her of Lo’ak’s betrayal. Even on the night you found him kissing another girl under Vitraya Ramunong you had fled to cry alone in the woods. Truth be told you had never even told her of the relationship in the first place. It had been something of a secret between the two of you and one that Lo’ak had insisted upon. Of course the truth of why that was important to him had eventually come to light. 
Talu yelled and jumped with the others as the far ikrans dotted the horizon. Perhaps she would ask where you had wandered off to later but you had time to think of an excuse. No one had even noticed your absence as you seeked refuge in the depths of Eywa’s forest. The clan had burst into such a ruckus that it took a good distance to turn that shrieking into a distant rumble. 
You had escaped in just the knick of time. 
The small glowing river fish had swirled around the branch you glided through the water for what felt like hours. It was calming, spending time with creatures that knew nothing of your demise. Still, you couldn’t hide forever. Talu was sure to be looking for you and it was customary to take part in clan events, especially ones as momentous as this. 
So many years had already passed and your growth had been profound. Lo’ak had no right to make you scatter and hide like a timid prey. Besides, he most likely would not remember you in the first place. So with that perspective he did not deserve to be remembered either. 
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Na’vi of all ages bounded and danced with such fervent zeal it could only be described as instinctual. Joy radiated from every pore and each movement was honored as another prayer of gratitude to the Great Mother. Naer [Alcohol] of the finest quality was freely passed and taken until laughter bounced from the trees. Of course the most elaborate and breathtaking attire was worn by clan members, especially those who remained unmated. 
Surely post war would be a time for many such pairings to come about and furthermore the ideal moment to start a family. 
You shook your head at the thought. It was a charming idea and you had been with more than your fair share of men intimately since reaching maturity but now was not the right time for you. Even then, the right male had not deigned to present himself yet. 
Color drained from your cheeks when you finally spotted Talu. Her eyes sparkled with happiness in the moonlight and cheeks ached from smiling so much but she was not alone. A tall figure faced her, leaned against a tree trunk with crossed ankles. Immediately you recognized the specific pattern of jagged stripes that covered his skin. 
However, that was perhaps the only thing you recognized from Lo’ak. He had grown. Grown oh so much and you knew he would have, but not like this. Somehow a part of you had still expected the same beanpole of a fourteen year old to show up. Now…Lo’ak had grown in stature in a way that only a Metkayina could. His build was accentuated with thick biceps and broad shoulders that only further brought out the contrast of his tapered waist. 
It was as if your eyes were playing tricks on you, searching to find where that lanky boy had gone to leave behind this sculpted male. 
His skin was different too. Those stripes you had come to adore during adolescence had now been joined by dark ink. Curious designs lined his side before traveling into swirling patterns that danced over his hips and even outer thighs. Squinting in the fire’s light you could just make out how that ink traveled straight to the band of his loincloth before slipping under. 
No.
Nope. 
That was dangerous territory and simply none of your business. 
Trying to distract your over curious brain you find yourself observing his hair instead. Those two signature braids still hung over his forehead but they were adorned with various objects and shells that you did not recognize. Even more surprising, his decorated braids were tied together as a top knot. It brought out the shape of his jawline and cheekbones, chiseled until they could cut like a knife. 
Life was unfair. If you didn’t know it before you surely knew it now because how else could this traitor grow to be so impeccably handsome? Such an enchanting mix of two cultures swirled into one male at his prime. 
Your teeth grinding was cut short by a firm hand around your bicep.
“Come, child.” Mo’at sternly directed. She didn’t offer an explanation as you were led to the front of the celebration but you knew better than to ask for one. 
Mo’at lined up every healer in front of the ravenous crowd. All it took was one hand in the air to silence the commotion. All eyes turned to their Tsahik. 
“My People,” She called in a boisterous voice. “We gather together tonight in thanks of our Great Mother. By her will, we have prevailed as a People with strong hearts. By her mercy, the balance of life has been restored.” The crowd broke out into a chorus of calls and yips that rumbled the forest. 
“In gratitude we must not grow weary. Our hearts forever imprinted with the memory of what has been sacrificed. To this I call upon you to look at your brothers and sisters and rejoice! See all that they have given.” The yelling increased tenfold and you swallowed that lump in your throat. You are not about to cry in front of the entire clan. 
“I thank those especially who stand before us.” The focus shifted to fall upon you and the other handful of healers to your left and right. Even with the attention born between the group of you, it still weighed heavy. “Those who have stitched our wounds and lightened our sorrows. As Eywa herself has taught us, there is nothing that can not be mended by gentle hands.” 
Mo’at stood now between you and another healer, one hand placed on her shoulder and the other on yours. As the cheers bellowed into the sky, you caught a glimpse of Talu pointing you out as Lo’ak leaned forward. She said something you could neither understand nor wanted to know. Gaze forced away by pure will, you barely escaped seeing when Lo’ak’s gaze finally pinned you down. 
It didn’t matter, though.
Not when those golden orbs burned like liquid fire through your veins.
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There were so many people you could occupy your time with. At this point you were willing to talk to Neteyam if it meant avoiding his younger brother. Pushing through the crowd was more difficult than you anticipated but you prayed that it would be enough to keep Talu and her new friend at bay too. 
“Ma Neteyam,” You hastily greeted, signing ‘I see you’ as he turned to face you. It was a miracle you had even been able to recognize the eldest Sully in the first place with his new tattoos and metkayina clothing. 
“Ma Y/N.” Although surprised, he returned the gesture with a polite smile. “You look well, sister.” 
His voice was so much lower than you remembered. 
“As do you.” An awkward silence threatened to settle between you and if you wanted to ward off potential advances you needed this to appear as enthralling as possible. “That is a charming necklace. What is it made of?” Your dainty fingers shakily came to thumb over the obscure object. To Neteyam’s credit, he only barely flinched at your unexpected touch. 
“A special sea glass from Awa’atlu. Some beaches are littered with them.” 
“Wow, that is fascinating.” It wasn’t. Any other day it might have been but you couldn’t focus enough to appreciate it fully. 
“That little piece is truly nothing once you’ve seen the whole beach.” This voice rumbled at your back, just close enough to feel his body heat prickle your skin. Your composure was not easily won over but it was forced into place just as you were forced to finally face him.
“Sister, we have been looking all over for you. Such a busy body.” Talu nervously laughed but one look told you that she knew about your earlier ditching of festivities. 
“Y/N.” Lo’ak gave you the same gesture of respect, voice gravely and low in a way that had chills racing up your spine. His eyes made contact with your own  for only a second as you returned the polite formalities, eyes shifting to his right shoulder as to feign looking at him properly. 
“Lo’ak.” It came out snippier than you intended, evident in the way his eyebrows turned down at the edges. 
“I apologize for my absence. I was…caught up.” Lo’ak’s tail flickered at the last part but a charming grin still stretched across his lips. Stepping out of his line of fire you divulged a distraction by initiating Talu and Neteyam’s greetings. This way you were able to take some much needed steps away from Lo’ak and focus primarily on the other members present. 
Neteyam and Talu filled the conversation easily, only requiring a few additions from you upon occasion. Even when it waned into subjects you were far from interested in, your body remained braced and alert as if you were swallowing every word said. The perfect defense against meeting Lo’ak’s gaze again. Even a protection against drooling over his muscular physique that had surely been carved by Eywa. 
“Well I shouldn’t leave my sister.” That snapped you out of your daze immediately. 
“She can dance with Lo’ak.” Neteyam smiled, as if he hadn’t just granted your worst nightmare come true. And to him he hadn’t because when you stuttered to find a response that reaction was only seen as adorable nerves. One that Lo’ak quickly stepped in to charm away. 
“Do not worry, tanhi. I’ve learned to not trip over my feet now.” And he grinned. That bastard had the audacity to jest and tease like the two of you had been old friends. Talu sent you a pleading look, one that said you would never hear the end of this if you didn’t play a good wingwoman right now. There was little that could be done about it now as he led you into the crowd. 
Lo’ak was true to his word. He had become quite the dancer, enough so that your own actions could easily follow his lead. When your hands occasionally brushed you tried to sweep them away as soon as possible. 
“You’ve grown.” 
“What?” You shouted back over the banging drums and he laughed in response.
“I said you have grown up, tanhi. Can’t believe it.” His fangs peeked out as he grinned, so carefree and genuine it sent your mind racing. Who the hell did he think he was?
“Well that happens.” You answered shortly, strategically choosing now to swerve into a spin. Anything to avoid his gleeful expression. 
“I mean yes of course but I just didn’t think it was possible for you to become even more beautiful.” 
The spin grinded to a halt. Lo’ak stopped dancing too but where his expression flitted with flirtatious amusement your own was nothing but pure ice. It cut through him until that smirk was wavering. 
“Are you fucking serious?!” The heaving drumming was a welcomed source of privacy, distracting the others from your rage. Everyone besides Lo’ak, whose brows knitted before letting out a short laugh. 
“Um yes? I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t mean it.” 
“Oh I wouldn’t put it past you.” Bitter and harsh like the look in your eyes, Lo’ak was taken aback. 
You didn’t give him time to recover, however as you slipped past the other dancing Na’vi. Lo’ak caught up easily, long legs keeping him right on your heels. 
“Woah woah hey, y/n. Where are you going?” 
“Away from you. I don’t have time for this.” 
He caught your arm when the two of you had just reached the outskirts of the celebration. Hois hand was slapped away but that didn't stop him from blocking your escape. 
“Time for what? I’ve just missed you is all.” 
“Missed me?” His words were so infuriating that you found your own sputtering to form sentences. Was it possible he suffered a brain condition? Memory loss? How else could he stand before you now and pretend that the last note the two of you had left off on had not been him shattering your heart. “You….” Another steadying deep breath in. “You think that after what you put me through that you could come back in and sweep me up for a hook up?”
Lo’ak shuffled backwards slightly, away from your accusing finger. 
“Tha-”
“Or maybe you have already forgotten what happened. I’m sure it would be easier to ignore how you acted like the clan’s whore while spewing promises to me.” 
His jaw dropped, all evidence of that confidence swept away.
“Well in case you’ve forgotten, you’ve already screwed over this girl so cross me off your list.” 
It seemed that his brain was lagging because this time when you shuffled around him you weren’t immediately cut off. Still, it appeared he had maintained his forest legs because he didn’t struggle to make up for lost ground. 
“Y/n, I didn’t….” He sighed through his nose. “It’s just that….that was so long ago. I didn’t even know how much of that you remembered.” 
“Excuse me?” You wheeled back on him, taking secret pleasure in the way Lo’ak did in fact trip over his feet this time. He recovered quickly but there was a frazzled energy to his movements. 
“No, no! Shit I…. that came out wrong.”
You save him the trouble of trying to string together an explanation. It was worth neither of your times not to mention how silly you felt for bringing it up in the first place. What did it matter after all these years? Nothing. That is what you had always told yourself and his appearance was not going to change that. 
“Lo’ak, mawey. You’re right it was a long time ago so let’s just put it behind us and make one thing clear.” His ears perked, eyes rounded as it appeared the very breath in his lungs became stagnant. “We are not friends. I’m happy for you and your family but only in the way everyone else is happy for your return. You stay in your lane and I will stay in mine. That way, everyone is happy.” 
“Not everyone.” He murmured, ears pressed flat against his braids. 
There was a flicker of hope present in his eyes, as if waiting for you to spontaneously forget the past and welcome him with open arms. You hoped your speedy exit was enough to blow that flame out.
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This is my random little story I've been working on to keep my mind off the break up. If you like it, please let me know and I will continue to work on and post the next parts:)
unofficial tag list: @pandoraslxna @pandoraslovesworld @faintfill @rivatar @neteyamssyulang
301 notes · View notes
yawnetu · 22 days
Text
Stupid mouth
Adult Neteyam x fem!human reader
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Summary : It was true that you never kept your mouth shut. Always babbling about things you knew weren't real, but you didn't stop. Sometimes, you were too full of yourself and too sure about what you gossiped with other women. And what you said lately disturbed Neteyam.
Warnings : reader talking bad about neteyam and other people, reader and some women hating a possible mate for Neteyam, neteyam threatening to fuck reader's mouth (and she acts like she isn't into it, dumb girl), neteyam feeling amused by reader, size difference, light dub-con
Word count : 1.1k+
Translations : sevin - pretty
Author's note : this idea came out of nowhere. I literally saw this pic (the one from right) on pinterest and saved it. Be aware cause this isn't the only saved pic that inspires me 👀
Part 1 | Part 2
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Chatting with other women, that was your hobby. You, a simple human whose parents fought to death along Jake Sully and the Omaticaya Clan had nothing better to do than gossip all day. You could say you loved the drama. Where the drama was, you were too.
Lately, you opened your mouth ready to share some nasty shit you supposed was true. But one day, when the sun was shining brightly, you and other na'vi women gathered around in a circle, eating some fruits they had gathered and talking about the clan, always finding yourselves a new victim to discuss about.
It was Muni. A beautiful omaticayan girl you truly envied. She was gorgeous and had wide hips and toned legs, her chest was ample and everybody could notice that through her beaded top.
The women here hated her while some admired her but chose not to talk about it. Muni and Neteyam were very close when they were little but over time, people started to ship them and tell Neytiri that Muni will be a good match for Neteyam.
This was the biggest reason for your hatred feelings towards her. She really is beautiful, so why not become Neteyam's mate? After all, she has what you don't.
"She does not deserve him. He is the future Olo'eyktan while she is a poor skilled archer." Rey'ka spoke, the knife in her hand cutting a yellow fruit in little pieces. She was right, this is what you told yourself. Muni didn't even deserve to be near him, she deserved to stay away and let him find a really capable mate.
"Stop hating on the girl. She did nothing wrong." Another woman called Leyra decided to open her mouth, though she shouldn't have in the first place. Leyra was admiring Muni a lot, always being after her and praising her whenever she was close. She loved the way Muni looked and talked, possibly developing a crush on the girl.
The other women turned their heads towards Leyra with their mouths open and eyes widened, their ears standing upright and ready to take in every little word that was going to come out of her mouth.
You were as shocked as them, still couldn't process what Leyra just slipped.
She looked back at you and shrugged her shoulders, not figuring out what was wrong with the affirmation she made.
Rey'ka swallowed dryly and turned her attention back to the others, her eyes seeking for any sign of disapproval here.
"Neteyam doesn't deserve her either." You said bluntly, not caring about the fact that this might affect the girls. "I mean, have you seen how small he is? I saw it and I almost laughed." You chuckled to yourself and shook your head. The others looked at you. Some giggled with their hands over their mouths, others seemed a bit too surprised for your liking.
But then, it was all silence. You didn't notice it though. "Even if they get together, he won't be able to satisfy her enough. Imagine if she goes in heat! Poor girl, I pity her." You laughed heartily again, focusing on the hand-made top you were crafting.
The silence took over your shared moment and this concerned you. Usually, they would laugh with you but now, they were as quiet as they could be.
Before you could continue rambling, a deep voice interrupted you.
"Watch that mouth." Neteyam said, staying behind you with his arms crossed over his broad chest, the simple action resulting in his pecs being squeezed together and looking more ample like he was the woman between you two.
"Or what?" you asked back, mocking him. You looked over your shoulder, your eyes taking in his looming form. You loved how tall he was and that he could manhandle you however he wanted.
"Or I will fuck it." his words sent a shiver down your spine and he didn't let the fact that you suddenly felt vulnerable under his gaze go. He smirked back at you and bent down, still being taller than you.
You didn't want to look more vulnerable than before so you stood up, barely reaching over his belly button as he straightened his back too, still feeling amused by your boldness.
He looked down at you, his piercing eyes scanning every little detail of you, taking in your curves. Oh how small you were but how much you talked bad about him.
"Do you think you can take me? After all, you said it yourself. I'm not big." He grabbed your arm and dragged you along, hearing the group of women behind whispering, probably about him.
You didn't want this. You didn't think this would happen. You lost your virginity a long time ago but the cock of a human will never compare to the one of a na'vi, especially of a huge one like Neteyam.
"Wait a minute! Neteyam, wait!" You tried to pull back from his grasp but it only got tighter in response. He pushed you against a tree and moved closer to you, so close that the bulge in his loincloth met your cleavage. Your eyes widened and you swallowed at the sight of him, so hard and so big.
Neteyam chuckled seeing your face and ran his large hand through your hair. "Do not worry, sevin. You can take it. You can and you will."
Moving his loincloth to the side, his cock sprung free and hit his lower abdomen, making him groan. Your eyes widened at the size of his shaft. Your attempts to back away were futile against Neteyam's strength.
"Come back here." He hissed, his large hand wrapping around your throat, bringing you forward. He forced his thumb into your mouth, pressing it against your tongue, warm saliva coating it.
His cock was aligned with your mouth as he brushed it against your lips, leaving them covered in his precum. The salty taste lingered on your lips but you refused to open your mouth though you didn't have a word in this, you had enough earlier.
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yawnetu · 22 days
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thinking about jake + how he loves to kiss u... ⊹˚. ♡
fantasize jake made fun of you for being a yapper but HE LITERALLY IS TOO
so so vocal
he just has to tell you how good ur making him feel or asking you how good you feel
tbh jake could get off from kissing you on its own
he would happily spend all day kissing you if he could — there is no greater feeling than his lips growing numb against your mouth
open mouthed, wet, slow, loud, sleepy … doesn’t matter how he does it, he’ll do it until it hurts to keep going
holding your cheeks together in a pucker with one hand and pressing a big old sloppy one to your mouth, smiling as he pulls away and watches the way your lips pout for a second longer as if trying to coax another one out of him (always works too)
and he’s always making noise when he kisses you
could be a hum, could be a groan — could be a very unapologetic moan for all jake knows, but he’s of the belief that telling his partner how much he loves them whilst kissing them is the closest to heaven he’ll ever get
and he loves to kiss after you’ve sucked him off or after he’s spent hours between your legs
the dirtier and messier and sloppier the kiss can be, the better
mouth covered in ur juice? kiss
drool down your chin? kiss please
spitting in your mouth and puckering your lips for a kiss? ur so filthy and he fucking loves it
there’s never been a moment where jake has kissed you without pulling away breathless and tingling — if he can still feel his lips then literally what was the point
he just likes to get messy with it
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yawnetu · 25 days
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Sully boyz
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yawnetu · 1 month
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so so excited for avatar 3 but i'm not ready to see loak ride off into the sunset with tsireya, i'm just NOT 😭😭
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yawnetu · 1 month
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yawnetu · 1 month
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Reader laughing at Lo'ak's size
MDNI
Lmao I cannot 😭
You and Lo'ak were enemies... Well, now with benefits. The chemistry between your bodies was always there, Lo'ak admired your small human body while you admired his strong na'vi body... So you two agreed, just sex nothing more.
You weren't nervous, it was Lo'ak: the silliest man out there. You couldn't even count how many times he has made an idiot of himself. He was funny, truly a person who would make you comfortable real quick. Maybe in another life, you two would be friends... But in this all that you could get was being enemies with benefits.
You remained seated as he took off his loincloth. Na'vi were different than humans you knew that much, but you didn't expect to see... This. You clasped your hand over your mouth. Lo'ak was huge a few feet taller than you and his cock looked like this? Lo'ak's eyes narrowed upon seeing your reaction.
"I'm sorry it's just... Your body is huge and it's... Small," you held yourself from laughing. Lo'ak probably wouldn't care but you were trying to be polite. Lo'ak decided to not reveal his cock fully. It was retractable but you didn't know... He could use it to his advantage.
"Well, if it's so small I'm sure you will allow me to fuck this bratty mouth," Lo'ak smirked. He knew you wouldn't say no, especially since for now his cock didn't look like much of a challenge. You moved to get on your knees, looking up at him with those pretty eyes of yours. "So you are sure you want me to fuck your mouth?" Lo'ak preferred to ask because in a moment you will be shocked and he will use it.
"As you can see," you were confident. You would make him cum without working too much, the whole length would fit into your mouth.
"Remember your own words, tanhì" Lo'ak chuckled as his cock showed itself fully, standing proudly against his lower abdomen. Your eyes widened, your lips parted as you tried to wrap your head around it. Motherfucker had a retractable penis. "I'm going to rearrange your guts with this," Lo'ak stroked his cock slowly, grinning. He enjoyed your reaction, your eyes wide. Clearly, you didn't expect it to grow... Larger. "But first your throat, you agreed," he put his hands on the back of your head. You looked up at him angrily, he tricked you and you let him. "Oh, don't look at me like that, tanhì. You shouldn't judge a cover by its book," Lo'ak said proudly, rubbing the tip against your lips, smearing his precum all over them.
"It's don't judge a book by its cover moron," you shook your head amused. Lo'ak knew English pretty well, but sometimes he was slipping. Lo'ak rolled his eyes before pushing his cock into your mouth, setting a slow pace. It wasn't even half of the whole length in your mouth before you began to gag. It was not going to be that easy. Lo'ak whimpered, pushing his cock deeper into your mouth. He needed more of it.
"So warm and wet," Lo'ak groaned, fucking your mouth at a steady pace. His hands holding your head firmly so you wouldn't pull away. "Such a good girl for me now, tanhì," he wished he could keep you like this forever. Not talking back just gagging on his huge cock, taking it as best as you can even though it was clearly too big for you. You were struggling, but you wouldn't back down from this now. "Yes, take it like a slut. We both know you craved my cock ever since you arrived here, cock-hungry whore," Lo'ak was thrusting in and out of your mouth roughly, he had many ways to show you just how much he hated you and it was one of them: destroying your mouth and throat with his cock. "As much as I would want to cum down this slutty throat... I need to make your pussy remember the shape and size of my cock for days until I'm able to fuck you again." Lo'ak pulled out of your mouth abruptly, surprising you a little. He didn't waste any time, pushing you on your back. "I would cum inside your mouth but I can smell how wet you are... I know this pussy is begging for my huge cock, dripping all wet." Lo'ak began to grind his cock against your folds, groaning as they covered his shaft in the wetness. It was so fucking hot... You were so fucking hot.
"You probably aren't that big," talking back wouldn't help you, especially when you were lying not only to him but also to yourself. Lo'ak pushed his fingers deep into your mouth, until you gagged.
"That's a girl," he kept them there as he entered you. Due to how wet you were his cock got inside easily, but you could feel the incredible stretch. It was like he was about to rip your pussy apart. "So eager to take all of me inside," Lo'ak commented as your pussy practically sucked him in, your walls clinging to his cock like they wanted it to stay here forever. "Such a perfect tight pussy, brat. It's better to keep your mouth occupied, it speaks nothing but lies," he grunts as he begins to pound into you, holding your leg up in the air to get as deep as he can. "See? I'm here..." he put the other hand on your stomach, where the outlines of his cock were. Pressing on it, making you whimper loudly on his fingers. "I'm really rearranging your guts, slut. And you love it, don't you? Of course, you do. Whores like you loved to be filled up by men like me," he moved his hand from your stomach to your neck, squeezing it not so gently. His tip brushing against your cervix. Lo'ak was so big you could swear that you felt him in your lungs. "I intend to fuck you all night. I will leave you bruised, missing my cock as soon as I cum and pull out. Your pussy will be craving my cock tomorrow, the day after tomorrow, and every day after that. I'm going to make you obsessed with my thick cock, so obsessed that you won't be able to bring yourself to an orgasm without my cock. To the point when you can't help but think about it and how it stuffs you full. This pussy will remember the shape of my cock and no other cock will be able to please you as much as mine, tanhì" Lo'ak growls before slamming into you like a feral animal. He intended to keep his promise...
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yawnetu · 1 month
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Courtship Misunderstanding.
Main Masterlist
Avatar Masterlist
Neteyam x Fem! Metkayina! Reader.
Warnings: Talks about mating, implied sexual themes.
Summary: Neteyam finds out that he's still unaware of some of the customs of your people.
W/C: 2.5k+
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Neteyam slowly rises from the water to the shore of the village of Awa’atlu, water pouring out of his hair as he drags the giant eel from the cord he’d brought along and tied around the base of its jaw. Stepping out of the water properly and turning to his left, he rests the end of the long cord in his hand over his shoulder, feeling satisfied at the sound of the heavy drag of the massive weight of the eel leaving a deep wet path on the sand.
It’d taken him days of exploring every inch of the waters, starting with the reefs and opening to the deeper ocean but he’d finally found a catch that was worthy of being gifted to you; an eel larger than him and almost as wide as his torso that quite frankly had him struggling, though he tried not to show. Neteyam watches how the sand suddenly turns dark, having him looking up and seeing that eclipse had started with nighttime falling upon them, urging him to walk faster.
Once he reaches the docks, he crouches down and squeezes his arms under the eel and between the sand, lifting it with a small grunt and placing it on the elastic sheet that creates paths to the marui. Placing his hands next to the eel firmly, he hoists himself up and lands on his knees on the path with a light bounce, taking the eel back in his arms and standing back on his feet, carrying it much like a newborn to further impress you with his strength..
His legs start walking the path to your family’s marui, careful that the eel doesn’t somehow leap out of his arms with the light bounce of his feet. As he walks to his destination, he crosses paths with a few metkayina walking by him, all turning around and eyeing him and his catch as they walk away, having him feeling somewhat giddy; the same feeling you elicit on him whenever you so much as look at him, and when you smile upon noticing him already looking at you…
He feels as if though his heart could just about explode. You make him feel just as innocently happy as when he was a child, back before the sky people returned, back before his father laid more weight on his shoulders, before he had bigger responsibilities, all of which his brother noticed which led to him being called ‘whipped’. He had no idea what it meant, but if this is what being ‘whipped’ felt like, he didn’t want it to stop.
Finally, he reaches your family’s pod and peeks in, standing at the corner of the entrance and seeing you sitting on your calves in front of the firepit at the center, using the light to weave a choker with thin vines and watching as you meticulously add a small white pearl into it, following an intricate pattern which will no doubt match the white freckles that beautifully adorn your body, the ones he can’t wait to trace patterns on.
“Neteyam!” You greet with a smile, having looked over and caught him staring at you. Your voice snaps him out of his trance and has him returning the same smile as you stand to approach him, having set down your choker. “Wow, your parents must be proud.” You compliment, eyeing the eel. “No, this… this is for you.” He smiles softly. “Me? Are you trying to feed my whole family?” You ask jokingly to which his tail nearly thrashes around excitedly.
“Yes.” He sheepishly answers. He knew you’d understand that he’s courting you, gifting you a hunt large enough to feed your entire family to prove he can provide for you and more once you have a few little ones running around. “Thank you so much.” You thank in a soft tone before being interrupted. “Neteyam.” The sound of your father’s voice speaks his name, having them looking at each other followed by your father hand gesturing that he sees him with Neteyam bowing his head.
“I see you.” He says, suddenly very nervous on your father reacting to his eldest daughter being courted. “What is this?” Your father waves his hand to the eel, wondering what he was doing with it in his pod when his family’s marui was on the other side of the village. “Neteyam caught this for us.” You answer with a warm feeling in your chest while said hunter’s ears lightly flick back in confusion. Just the presence alone of a na’vi outside of the family with a large catch should let him know you were being courted.
Maybe your father just didn’t want to accept the courting, was his catch not impressive enough? Surely he could understand that anything bigger wouldn’t have been able to be delivered, it was hard enough to carry the one in his arms. “Very well then.” Your father nods and takes the eel in his own arms with more ease than Neteyam, the small insecurity blossoming in his stomach subsiding the strain in his biceps despite being understandably younger.
While the eel is set near the fire, ready to be cut and cooked, the sound of your mother’s voice speaking your name enters your ears. “Mother.” You greet and approach her and Aonung, receiving a half hug from her due to your baby brother being carried in her other arm. “Neteyam brought us something.” You continue to boast with a smile, briefly pointing at the eel by the fire before taking the baby in your own arms.
Ronal looks at the eel with slightly wide eyes, the impressed expression filling Neteyam with a sense of pride and mostly relief, though unbeknownst to him, her surprise was due to never having seen one of the reef eels so big, given that they’re usually no larger than a na’vi’s forearm. Your mother gestures that he sees him as a thanks to which he responds while your older brother looks away in annoyance, refusing to return the gesture.
Your mother gives a small pinch to his arm with a more than fear-inducing look on her eyes, forcing him to return the gesture. “Aonung, go bring your sister.” Your father’s voice says to which he follows after letting out an exasperated sigh, picking up his pace once he realizes Tsireya’s swimming with Lo’ak. “Come, eat with us.” Your mother invites Neteyam to the pod while your father cuts the eel as the younger male lets out a quiet relieved sigh at his offering being accepted.
You take his hand in yours and lead him in with a smile, pulling him down to sit next to you as he lets out a nervous breath through his smile, the flustered expression not going unnoticed by your parents who share a knowing look with each other, staying quiet to the matter. The rest of the night goes smoothly, your parents cooking the eel as they make small conversation about the village, your baby brother napping in your arms as you talk with your sister and occasionally share a few words and smiles with Neteyam…
The only one who looked unhappy was Aonung with the seemingly permanent annoyed look he bared on his face, though you suspected he was never happy and didn’t give him much importance in the time being. Though while the night felt soothing to you, Neteyam felt as if though he’d already had four heart attacks. The entire dinner he’d been anxiously waiting for the conversation to be had with your parents, about whether or not they approved of him.
He waited as patiently as he could for your parents to start the conversation on the matter, for them to voice their concerns if they had any, if they bestowed their blessing on the two of you becoming mates, make sure that you’d be taken care of properly, anything, but it never came. So as the end of the meal neared, he assumed that your parents simply trusted him enough that they felt as though nothing needed to be said on the matter.
“Ah.” You open your mouth in a way to encourage the baby in your lap to follow suit and open his own mouth, placing a small piece of meat in and smiling as he chews. Neteyam eyes you feeding your brother, a soft smile on his face at the sight of how you treat babies, unable to stop himself from thinking about how you would treat your own baby. Thoughts of him coming to your shared marui only to see his beautiful mate carrying his baby, your baby in your arms floods his mind, a warm feeling settling in his chest.
While you bring another piece of meat to your brother’s mouth, you remain sat unaware of how Neteyam’s, without much thought, tail slowly slides to the side behind you and reaches for your own, gently wrapping around it as best as he could. A gasp almost instantly leaves your mouth, accidentally dropping the meat in surprise with your eyes widening. The sound of the baby on your lap letting out a huff followed by crying snaps you out of your shock with your eyes opening even wider.
“Oh, I’m so sorry tìyawn.” You apologize as you pick up the meat from your lap, readjusting his back to your stomach and trying to feed it to him again only for him to sloppily grab it and throw it away, your parents now having their full attention on you yet unable to find the cause of the disturbance. “Come, give him to me.” Your mother indicates, stopping your actions of lightly bouncing the baby on your leg while patting his back.
You hand him over to your mother and watch how she almost instantly gets him to stop crying while you push the slight insecurity away by remembering how she’s already had another three kids to practice with, of course she would’ve mastered it already. The sudden absence of the tail that was previously wrapped around yours has you thinking back to the recent incident while Neteyam’s stuck feeling somewhat embarrassed of the mess, not having meant to surprise you so much.
You think back to how his tail wrapped around yours and feel yourself getting flustered, not knowing what to think of the action. Metkayina didn’t wrap their tails with each other, in fact, you didn’t wrap them around anything, your tails not being thin enough to offer the flexibility to do so, but for some reason, despite not being familiar with said action and not knowing what it meant, it felt… intimate.
Your father clears his throat and breaks you out of your overanalyzing thoughts, making you look at him. “It’s gotten quite late, it would be best to leave.” He suggests to which Neteyam’s ear perk up to attention. “Yes.” He quickly agrees and stands, and while the action makes you think that he feels as though he overstayed his welcome, in reality, he’s quite eager for what’s to follow. “Sleep well.” You say to him.
His face contorts in confusion as he takes in the sight of your innocent eyes looking at him, remaining sat. “Is something wrong?” Your sister questions before you can, all eyes suddenly on him and his confused expression as he wonders what’s happening. Why weren’t you standing to leave with him? Why did your parents seem oblivious to what was happening? Why did everybody seem oblivious to it?
You should all know what follows next, having finished the meal from the catch that he’d brought for you, the only thing that was left to do was for you to leave with him to somewhere more private so you could mate with each other. Had you changed your mind after accepting his catch? Had he somehow overstepped when he wrapped his tail around yours? “Neteyam? What’s wrong?” You ask with genuine concern, confusing him even more.
“… Nothing- I…” He pauses. What was he supposed to say? Where would he even start? “Rest well.” He returns your words before leaving, you and your family sharing a look that lets each other know that no one understood what happened either. The walk to his family’s marui feels like a blur, hundreds of thoughts and questions unanswered in his head which feels as if though it's just about ready to start spinning in confusion.
“Neteyam, what is wrong?” He hears the concerning voice of his mother ask, realizing that he hasn't just reached his family's marui, but is now pacing in their pod, all eyes on him once again. “’I… I do not know.” He manages to get the words out of his mouth, his legs still pacing him around. “How can you not know?” Lo’ak asks while his pacing brother starts breathing faster. “Boy.” Jake almost shouts, finally managing to get him to stop pacing and look at his family.
“What’s going on?” He adds. “I… I show up to Y/N’s marui, I gift her a huge eel- bigger than me, she accepts it, I have dinner with her family… and they don’t say anything!” He explains with frustration, taking his family by surprise, seeing the usually calm and collected eldest starting to lose it. “It took me three days to find the right catch, and- and when I get up to leave, she doesn’t come with me and acts like she doesn’t know what’s happening.” He rushes the words out, breathing heavily by the time they’re out.
“Neteyam…” Neytiri speaks his name yet stares at the ground as if pondering about something, wondering where she should start to explain to her son what happened. “Sit.” She ushers him closer with a soft voice. After hesitating for a few seconds, he steps closer and kneels in front of her, watching as her mouth opens and closes a few times as if searching for the right words before answering the question he’s so desperately been searching an answer to.
“These are reef na’vi, different na’vi court in other ways.” She explains, the slow widening of his eyes showing the realization dawning on him. “… What?” He asks somewhat in disbelief. “You skxawng.” He hears Kiri insult him, making him shoot his head back at her. “You knew?” He asks, the tone in his voice showing how offended he feels that she didn’t tell him beforehand. “I didn’t know you were courting her!” She defends. “Neteyam is old enough to choose a woman.” Their mother interjects.
“Then what do I do?” He quickly redirects his gaze back at her. “I do not know.” She rushes out as if it were obvious she doesn’t know how metkayina court. “But you told me-” “I have told you everything that I know.” She interrupts her son who quickly looks at his other parent for answers. “Don’t look at me.” He raises his hands in defense, his eldest son continuing to look at his other family members for answers only to no avail, letting him know that if he wants to know how to court you; a metkayina, he’ll have to ask another metkayina.
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yawnetu · 2 months
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FANTASIZE ★ masterlist.
pairing: jake x reader
warnings: explicit sexual content, fem!human!reader, semi-public sex, piv sex, dirty talk, size kink, manhandling, breeding kink, cumming inside, glowy cum | wc: 16k
note: i've been promoted to: avatar writer. my first time writing for it (def not my last!) lemme know what u think ;-) also his smirk in the header....GET INSIDE ME
⏤ It's official - Jake is sick and tired of Norm giving him shit. While he can't claim to know as much about Pandora as Norm does, there's still a few things Jake can afford to do to piss him off even more for the fun of it, and it just so happens that Norm's sister works as a scientist in the human compound - which to Jake spells perfect revenge in its simplest form.
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It’s official — Jake has had enough of Norm’s bitching and whining.
For the last two months, Jake has endured a lot, more than he ever asked for or wanted; whether it was Neytiri on his ass about becoming an Omatikaya and never missing a single beat of training for it, Grace nagging him about video logs, or even Norm giving him so much shit over every single thing he didn’t spend three years learning in simulations and classrooms — he’s sat and listened to all of it without complaint. 
Jake has never once fought back, never once raised his own grievances about how tedious and time-consuming everything actually is on one man’s shoulders, and yet it all keeps coming.
The worst thing is that he can understand all of it to an extent. There’s a necessary need for attentiveness when learning the ways of the Omatikaya, and the longer it takes, the worse his chances get with the rest of the clan. The video logs? They’re not that important, Jake thinks, but it keeps Grace off his back for the small kernel of time he actually spends in the real world and not inside of his avatar. 
But with Norm, Jake can’t seem to understand what is actually bothering him enough to be so goddamn bitter about every little thing.
Of course, he’ll never fit into Tom’s shoes, not in the way everybody expects him to. He didn’t spend three years of his life learning how to control an avatar or how to function on Pandora — every day is quite literally a learning experience, a practical education that neither a lab nor a stuck up prick like Norm can teach. 
And, while he’s on the subject, Jake actually thought Norm would be a decent ally, at least until he almost died and got saved — with reluctance — by the daughter of the Olo’eyktan and somehow ended up being thrust into learning their way of life. 
Nobody seems to remember the giant part of the story concerning how he almost got devoured by an oversized dog in the process.
Instead, Norm wants to bitch about how Jake knows nothing, and treats him like a genuine idiot. Jake might be a few years short of being educated on the Na’vi, but he’s not stupid. He can still do stuff, stuff that Norm can’t; but reasoning with the man is like trying to convince the Na’vi that the Sky People are actually friends and not foes, and it’s pretty obvious that that’s never going to happen.
When Norm begins his daily ritual of berating Jake on his lack-of knowledge regarding the Hallelujah Mountains that surround their shitty little containment, Jake’s willing to sit through it and take it like a champion. 
Norm starts weaving his conspiracies to the cluster of scientists about how Jake is a terrible candidate for joining the Omatikaya clan and that all he cares about is sucking up to the Chief’s daughter — not true, by the way, for Neytiri can only stomach being near Jake because she has to and on rare occasions, he can do something absurdly dumb to make her laugh — and Jake begins to mentally tap out of the debate, rolling his eyes to the side and sighing as he watches you duck your head through a low archway with a bowl of slop in your hands.
Jake watches you for around three seconds before the lightbulb flickers alight above his head.
And then he grins.
It’s hard to believe that you and Norm are related — Jake can’t find any similarities between the two of you. You’re incredibly compassionate and communicative, never letting Jake suffer in his silent struggle of stupidity, and not to mention you’re incredibly beautiful; whereas Norm is just… Norm. A bitter, angry, red-faced man who does a piss poor job at hiding his insatiable jealousy of how wasting your life in a classroom or behind a book actually means very little in the grand scheme of achieving your goals. 
Example A: Jake of the Jarhead clan, ex-military, future Omatikaya. Cross-reference to Norm: sad loser. Jake signs his name on the mental essay he’s compiling as Norm drones on about culture and ignorance and narrows his gaze on you as you close in on the group.
Jake’s actually always liked you. You’re a no nonsense kind of woman who loves science and the Na’vi, and, unlike your brother, you actually treat him like an equal. Even now, as you slip next to him and lean back against the low metal work-surface, you meet Jake’s gaze with an eye-roll and smile, and his grin only widens from it.
Oh, how he loves that you like him. Although you spend so much time engrossed in your work and documenting on paper whatever Jake recites from his daily activities within the clan, Jake happens to know that you like him, and in hindsight, it’s never been a secret. For the first time, Jake lets himself consider the possibility of that being just another reason for Norm to suddenly despise him, but the idea warms his stomach rather than churns it.
“I can totally see Jake ruining all of our chances at building bridges by just burning them all together,” Norm huffs, folding his arms and wrangling a dirty glare in his direction. Jake welcomes it with the same smile that’s been blooming over his face for the past two minutes, which worsens Norm’s mood. 
“I don’t see you building any bridges, either,” you say to Norm. “Jake’s been more valuable to this program than you have as of late.”
Norm bristles. “One of us has actually been doing research while the other is trying to seduce an Olo’eyktan’s daughter—”
“Jake’s doing field research, Norm,” Grace says, her eyes still glued to her microscope. “And he knows better than to seduce anybody when we haven’t properly studied the relations between Na’vi and avatars yet. And there are bigger issues at stake right now.”
“I can get results on that if you want me to,” Jake offers.
“No, Jake.”
Jake shrugs. While Norm continues his tirade against Jake’s rather noble endeavours with the Omatikaya, he turns his gaze back towards you and lets his mental clogs turn.
At this point, Jake thinks that even if you agreed with some of Norm’s points, it wouldn’t make any difference. There is absolutely nothing he can do to please Norm, and so maybe he should just stop trying. Then again… There’s something hideously funny in how worked up Norm gets when somebody jumps to his defence, particularly you.
And considering most of Norm’s insecurities come from seeds he planted all by himself without any concrete evidence to support most of the points, Jake knows that anything he does from here on out will drive Norm into a slow burning insanity.
“Is it because I’m in a wheelchair?” Jake asks suddenly.
Norm huffs. “Of course not. It’s because you don’t take any of this seriously. Everything is a game to you. All of us here have spent years building up to this assignment while you read a manual and called it a day.”
“What? I’m serious. I’m one of the best avatar drivers here,” Jake says smugly. Grace finally looks over with an irate look — something tells him he wasn’t supposed to tell everyone that she had told him that. 
Norm’s face turns a whole new shade of pink. 
“I’m also a quick learner. The Omatikaya are trusting me more and more each day, so while I go out there and find out valuable field research for this program—” Jake looks at you with a deliberately sweet look and you laugh quietly, “—you can stay here and look at plants and mud and cells.”
“You probably don’t even know what a cell is.”
“Sure I do. Where they lock up all the bad guys.”
Norm opens his mouth to say something more, probably missing the joke like he does every time, but this time Grace swirls in her chair and sighs loudly, looking between the two of them like they were children.
“Alright, ladies, you’ve measured your dicks at equal length. You’re both doing good work around here, so Norm, why don’t you just let Jake go back to doing his work with the Omatikaya and you can just get some rest. Jesus, you’re both making everyone miserable, it’s affecting my work ethic…”
“Yeah, sweet dreams, Norm,” Jake calls, and Norm gives him a filthy scowl before snatching his things up off the desk, holding them secretively to his chest as he stomps towards the back room lined with their bunks. 
Jake feels the dark and evil energy follow him out the room and then he finally looks around the lab in disbelief. 
“Jake, go, you’ll be late, don’t keep Neytiri waiting,” Grace reminds him, switching off the bulb to the microscope and stretching her arms as Trudy claps her hands and silently announces her retirement to the bunks after Norm. “Don’t forget to make a log when you get back. Don’t let him forget, will you, Spellman?”
Grace looks at you with a look that suggests no room for negotiation. It was an order. She collects her things, claps Jake on the shoulder and grabs a cigarette from the net by the archway and takes it with her towards her separated bedroom. 
When the door to her little cubicle rattles shut, Jake shakes his head with a quiet laugh and rolls himself forward, giving you room to assemble your own work station where he had just been.
“Staying up late tonight?” he asks you, taking a swig of water before pushing one of the buttons to the link unit, waiting as it whirs to life.
You settle your stuff down and walk towards him. “Yep. I actually do have some work on cells to finish up.”
Jake’s lips quirk. “Not your usual ballpark, is it?”
“No, but there’s not really a surplus of Na’vi around here to communicate with,” you say in reply, rummaging with the unit to help Jake into the gel pack mattress. Usually he dismisses the help, but when it’s you helping him get comfy, then he’ll stomach his pride and accept your kindness. He’s surprisingly light, as normal, and you frown. 
“Don’t forget about the real world, Jake, you gotta take care of yourself.”
“Don’t worry, I got this,” he assures you. “You need anything while I’m out?”
Another thing that will shave a few years off Norm’s life — Jake bringing you things, extraordinary and otherwise unattainable when stranded in the mountains things for you to study and report. You hum thoughtfully at the offer, pushing his head down softly when he wriggles restlessly, a little to eager to get to whatever he’s doing in the forest tonight.
“If you happen to cross paths with a tsawksyul, a simple cutting would be appreciated,” you tell him, opting for something a little more simple than normal, considering Jake’s busy these days training. “If you don’t forget while you’re busy seducing daughters, of course.”
Jake’s grin returns, if not out of genuine amusement then just to see you smile in return and do the little head-tilt thing that Jake’s discovered he adores.
“Not my thing. More into scientists,” he tells you, watching in the final moments before you shut him in the pod at how you shake your head and turn yourself away from him.
There was no rejection. No refusal. Just a smile.
A smile that sets his plan into motion.
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No wonder Norm is always in a terrible mood. You find that his notes on the cells found in the mossy undergrowth of the forest is as chaotic as it can possibly be, which has left you using Grace’s Bible on Pandora botany as a guide and squinting to find the connections between his barely legible notes.
It’s basic knowledge that when cells die and a genetic material begins to unfold, a charge of energy is released; this concept has been the fundamental structural point to Norm’s notes on the moss and how each step at night causes a ricochet of expanding light, but there has to be something more than everybody is missing. Even in Grace’s book, there’s not enough information regarding how it works; if it’s connected to Eywa, if it is a response to another organism, whether it breathes and lives as its own entity.
Alongside Norm’s notes, you very sparingly begin to make an analysis of the communicative features of Pandora plant life, and begin jotting a vocabulary to use in a later research assignment, when a sudden knock against the glass above your head makes you jump quite literally up and out of your seat.
The Hallelujah Mountains are so isolated from the rest of the human population on Pandora and used rarely by the Na’vi during the night, but you distinctly make out Jake’s looming form standing outside with a smile on his face and relax. His skin is a bioluminescent explosion of colour, and for a moment you’re struck dumb staring at him until he waves his hand as if beckoning you outside.
You throw a cautious look over your shoulder, but the lab is silent and still. With that in mind, you reach for one of the exo-packs and shrug on your cardigan hanging on the back of the chair you were just on and hesitantly begin to make your way outside.
Very sparingly have you been outside of Site 26 to explore, and never once on your own. Grace has drilled into you the strict importance of respecting the laboratory rules and curfew, and if you’re going to wander outside after hours in the name of research, then please, wake her up too. 
But you won’t be alone out there, not when Jake is waiting for you outside.
Jake drops to a squat in anticipation when the airlock doors to the lab force open with a wheezy breath, and he sees you cautiously step out and secure a button on your cardigan in place. The gesture almost makes him croon. He rarely sees you at night since he’s learned the value of getting rest in between his adventures in his avatar, but now he can’t believe what he’s been missing out on seeing past his bedtime.
You look tired, your hair out of place and messy, but he recognises your attempt to look more alert when you step towards him with a slight bounce.
“Hey, tìyawn,” he calls to you, as you stare up at him even whilst drawing near. Thanks to the crouch, you’re about eye-to-eye, and he watches your expression widen with wonder as you map out the illustrations of light across his nose and cheeks, before sweeping to his forehead, then his neck, and then his bare chest.
“Hey, yourself,” you laugh, finding his eyes again as they glow in the low light. The Pandora skies are littered with stars and balls of unimaginable white light, but even the surrounding forest gathering around the lab to protect it from the harsh dropping winds of the mountains are pulsing with purple light, every single shrub and leaf and plant glowing with life.
Jake stares at you for a moment before producing a gift from behind his leg. You take it from him with a wide and gasping smile.
“No way!”
“Way,” Jake says, watching you handle the flower with so much care that one might assume it would break with your touch. With the way Jake was swinging it around on his way up here, he’s actually shocked that it’s still in one piece, but something in the way you respond to everything Jake does or brings tells him that even if he’d brought a portion of it, you’d be just as pleased.
“Thanks,” you say, turning slightly as you tell him you’re going to put the tsawksyul in the lab for safe-keeping. But Jake reaches his arm out to trap you from leaving, cocking his head to the side with a soft smirk when you round back on him curiously.
“It’s not gonna die if you leave it out here, it’s a flower,” Jake tells you, jerking his head in another direction. “Wanna look around with me?”
You pause, and he can tell you’re genuinely conflicted. Grace said not to leave the vicinity under any circumstances out of respect for the Na’vi and the lab rules. But she also said not to go outside without her, and here you are.
“Grace will be mad if she finds out I’m gone,” you tell him slowly.
“Probably.”
“And Norm.”
Jake feels a rush of something at the mere mention of your brother, and his tail swishes against the rocks behind him. 
Jake leans closer to you. “Well, him I don’t care about.”
Mindful of the plant in your hand, you gently push Jake’s chest back until he rolls on his heels, unable to fight the smile on your own face.
“…Where will we be going? I can’t go far just in case Grace wakes up and comes looking for me.”
Jake tilts his head up to the sky and to the top of the mountain peak that houses the lab. From his own experience scouting up there, Jake knows there’s a small incubation of trees that offers a compelling view of the entire mountain range, as well as offering a minor collection of plants he thinks you’ll die over once you see.
But that just wouldn’t be as evil as what he originally had planned. He then rolls his head towards the small section of trees that border the back of the lab, close to where the bunks are, and he then looks back at you with a mischievous glint in his eyes.
“We’ll stay close,” Jake promises. 
You hesitate once again and guiltily look at the lab. It’s not like it’s going anywhere…
“Alright,” you sigh, looking back at Jake and watching his smile widen as if he’s just obtained a great victory. There’s no room in your stomach for suspicion to grow — it’s overrun with butterflies when Jake points his head in the direction of the snug tree line and holds out his finger for you. 
You stifle a laugh and reach to hold it, setting the tsawksyul on the ground tucked under the same window he just scared you from and join him on the slow walk to wherever he means to take you.
Being with Jake has always felt easy, but being with Jake’s avatar is practically uncharted territory. It’s a struggle to remember that it is actually the same man you like so badly back in the lab, the same guy who deliberately rams your ankles with his wheelchair just to watch the way you catch yourself as you fall, the same guy who you think uses you as a factor to piss off your brother but in a way that you find strangely attractive. 
Now, he’s an almost ten foot Na’vi leading you in the whimsical dark towards a cluster of trees, and you don’t know how to begin separating the feelings you have for Jake from the feeling of nerves you feel around his alter ego.
You can barely make out Jake’s face all the way above your head, not until he feels your stare and looks down at you beside him. There’s a similarity in his human expressions with his Na’vi ones, which is fortunate considering there was a time where you thought the avatar looked more like Tom than it did Jake. Now that they’re one in the same, and now that Jake is in front of you in his avatar form and the feelings you have for him are still lingering, you’re beginning to accept the likeness between the two of them. 
“What did you do today?” you ask him, referring to his ritualistic training with Neytiri.
Jake hums thoughtfully. “Nothing compared to Norm, I’m sure.”
At that, you laugh. “I’m seriously asking, Jake.”
“Alright… Neytiri has me reading the signals of the forest whenever we go hunting,” he explains sparingly, seeming not in the mood to talk training now that you’ve reached the lay of forest near the back of the lab. He surveys the setting and the space between the lab and the fringe of leaves and bushes and nods, as if satisfied but then pulls you deeper into the thrush of leaves.
“She says everything’s connected,” he continues. “She also says I’m a terrible shooter.”
“You’re missing your shots?” you tease. Jake turns back to you with a grin that you honestly walked into when you asked.
“Not all of ‘em.”
After the short walk, Jake is finally satisfied with the burrow of bushes and rocks that outline the small selection of forest behind the lab, and he looks up to once again gauge the distance and is pleased when the lab doesn’t look too far away. Jake hears you rustle and sit on one of the low rocks with your knees to your chest, and then drops to his usual squat in front of you, arms rested on his knees, gently fiddling with his fingers.
“How’re your cells?” he asks, but you’re so busy gazing at the forest around you and the stars above your heads that he fears you’re not even listening. Jake instead settles for watching you.
He knows he’s in over in his head when even his avatar likes you. Jake’s had nowhere near as much experience navigating his way around how to use this body than the other drivers, let alone time to understand the signals his body sends him or the feelings different things have to him, but he can tell the difference between being you friendly and not, even when he’s not totally familiar with how it all works. And on top of that, there are so many random variables to being Na’vi to get his head around that he never even thought of until Neytiri or Grace filled him in on what the hell was going on with his body at certain times of the month.
He’s stupid sometimes, true, but not totally naive. Jake recognises the tug in his chest as he looks at you — he feels the same thing when he’s in his human body. He’s no expert on Na’vi, never claimed to be, but he feels there must be something instinctive in the way he feels for you and the way his avatar senses it. And with Norm’s fresh-faced hatred in full flush whenever Jake makes that fact known, he’s not at all surprised that those feelings have suddenly become so full frontal now that he’s had enough of Norm’s bullshit.
“It’s amazing out here,” you say, to Jake but also to the wind as you completely crane your head up to look through the cracks in the branches and leaves. “Don’t you ever wish Earth had looked like this?”
“I haven’t really thought about Earth since I left,” he confesses, shuffling closer to you while you’re occupied with mapping out the stars in the sky.
“Not once?” You look down at him. If you’re taken aback by the sudden closeness between you, you hide it well. 
Jake shrugs. “Nothing I need is there.”
Fair enough. You stare at him for a moment and think about that before agreeing. 
“Me too.”
The branches above your heads sway in a gentle breeze and Jake watches you hug your cardigan around yourself before asking, “So, why’re we here? Did you wanna show me something?”
“What, the stars not enough for you?” Jake looks up to the sky.
You laugh quietly. “I’ll never get enough of them, actually. Beats the lab ceiling by a long shot. Looking at the stars through the window’s not the same… I wish I didn’t have to use this mask—” You throw him a playfully exasperated look, “—I wish I had an avatar.”
“Why don’t you?” Jake’s never asked, never thought to ask. But you’re the only scientist in his close collective of scientist ‘friends’ who doesn’t actually drive an avatar, and is instead limited to just studying everyone else's.
“It was never really my thing,” you explain, settling comfortably atop the rock and throwing the glances to the sky away to focus on him. Like the lab, they’re not going anywhere, and the ones tattooing Jake’s skin are far more interesting. “Okay, that’s a lie. I think the avatars are fascinating, just like the Na’vi, but sometimes you take what you’re given when you’re given it. Norm has always had to be better than I am, always one step ahead. Plus, our inheritance only stretched as far as to cover the contract costs of one avatar driver.” You laugh, “And Norm’s older.”
“Damn, so we just got stuck with Norm,” Jake comments, only to make you laugh again, which thankfully works. “I’d have a better time out here if it were you and not him.”
“He’s actually very insecure about that,” you tell him, watching his amusement grow without knowing the exact reasons for why. “He always goes on about how your avatar is much more built. I guess Tom was just more athletic and the avatar reflects it, I don’t think Norm’s used so much as an elliptical since high school… Anyway, he’s very vocal on how unfair the avatar program is in that regard.”
“You agree with him?”
Jake’s fingers ghost across your ankle.
“One: he’s my brother, and I’m not going to answer that question honestly. And two: let’s not forget who the avatar is modelled off. Tom was very handsome.”
“Growing up, I was always the pretty twin.”
You hum. “I couldn’t tell.”
Jake’s never ever considered the fact of you knowing his brother well before he died. He’s never had to think about it before, not until now, but he pushes the thought away and falls back into the thoughts of what he came here to do in the first place.
“You don’t think I’m handsome?”
He watches your grin widen. “I didn’t say that, did I?”
Jake creeps forward slightly, and this time you notice, moving your toes back further towards your bum on the rock while Jake continues his close creeping. 
“I think you’re a very pretty woman,” Jake murmurs. “Beautiful, even.”
“Norm’s not here to get mad at you for saying that,” you remind him.
“‘m not saying it for Norm to hear.”
You feel Jake’s hand sliding to wrap around your ankle and you shudder when he smooths his way up to your calf. You’ve never interacted with any Na’vi like this before, never felt their skin pushing against your own. With a glance down at his hand, you frown and work your way back up to his face, his eyes lit up in the dark.
“It’s not fair that you’re using your avatar against me right now,” you mutter, making him laugh through his nose and bring his body closer to the round edge of the rock. He considers it progress when you remain rooted in place once his hands run up the length of your legs to your waist.
You watch his nostrils flare slightly as he observes you, which only makes you feel more nervous and trapped here.
“All I’m doing is talking,” says Jake.
You scoff at him. “Does all your talking involve hands on the waist, Sully?”
He shrugs. “Only with really pretty people.”
Jake’s ears prick when you sigh and look back up at the stars. He doesn’t move his hands, but he senses your body tensing beneath his touch, smells the change in your body as he speaks. He’d love that part of being Na’vi a lot more if he knew what those changes meant exactly, and he can’t figure it out even as he stares at you intently.
His thumbs smooth from left to right, feeling the nub of your ribcage with every stroke over your tank top and tries to level his face into one of absolute neutrality when you look back down at him. 
“What are you doing, Jake?”
Not what he was expecting you to say, if he’s being honest.
“Nothing,” he says.
“You’re being weird,” you reply, narrowing your eyes suspiciously. It has the opposite effect, and you watch him struggle not to smile. His hairline raises when his brows do, and you fight the urge to roll your eyes when you figure him out, “Did you actually bring me out here just to flirt with me?”
He does nothing except look at you, as if the answer is painfully obvious and you’re stupid for not realising it sooner.
You sigh loudly. “Jake, I’m sorry that you didn’t get the memo like everybody else, but you didn’t need to lure me out the lab in your avatar if you wanted to get my attention.”
His thumb continues to move and his eyes drop slightly.
“I wouldn’t say I lured you out here,” Jake replies. You watch his eyes zero back in on yours and you fight your body against the urge to wrap up and hide from him. 
“You can’t be that stupid, I refuse to believe it,” you laugh disbelievingly, which makes him raise his brows questioningly. Even with a layer of plastic obstructing your face from his, Jake can’t get over how pretty you look. “You have to know that I like you even when you’re not a big blue alien.”
Jake’s grin widens, his fangs glinting in the moonlight. “I know. You’re really bad at hiding it.”
“Okay,” you say, feeling under your cardigan for his hands and attempting to wrestle them away, but he doesn’t budge. You laugh again, as if the whole thing is genuinely funny for you, “then you can always make your thoughts about that known when I see you in the lab. In person.”
“I’m not doing anything I wouldn’t in there if I had the chance,” Jake tells you, moving his hands but only to sandwich them between your tank and your skin. The feeling of his palms flat against your stomach makes you jump slightly and reach for his wrist. 
“Please. I see you every single day.”
“Yeah, and your brother, and Grace, and Trudy,” Jake points out. “I can’t get a second alone with you. What would you have me do, make a move with your brother breathing down my neck about it?”
“You could just be upfront. Save me from looking like an idiot.”
“Come on, baby, let’s be real.”
The smile he has on his face is unmoving, and you search every corner of it to find signs of his sincerity falling and find nothing. But something feels wrong.
You’ve spent close to two months in the long shadow drawn by everything else in Jake’s life, and considering Jake’s newfound role of future Omatikaya warrior, you feel that the time he spends in your company has become less and less. So now that Jake has decided to pick up on whatever signals you were sending him and respond to them, you assume it’s all in the name of good fun to piss off Norm.
Feeling Jake’s hands creeping up your body in the middle of the Hallelujah Mountains and with no older brother here to glare at either of you, you’re rethinking everything you thought you had figured out.
“I don’t get it,” you say finally. 
Jake just laughs quietly. “You thought I just rammed my wheelchair into your feet for fun?”
“You mean to tell me that was your way of showing interest?” you ask unconvincingly.
“…Nah. I liked watching you fall, though,” he grins. Jake picks himself up from his squat and looms over you like a shadow, watching you fall back onto your forearms as you stare up at him. He sets one knee between your legs and leans down slightly, breathing in deeply in a way that has you thinking he’s actually sniffing the air around you. 
“Honey, I’m all kinds of obsessed with you.”
You blink. “You certainly gave nothing away.”
“I bring you shit all the time.”
“I’m a scientist, I didn’t know you did that because you liked me. I thought it was just because I wanted better samples than Norm.”
“I mean, that definitely helped motivate me to find everything.”
“You never even told me you liked me.”
“Well, I’m telling you now.”
“Okay, well, tell me tomorrow when you’re awake and not all…big,” you frown. 
Jake chuckles. “You don’t like me now, or something?”
“I definitely never said that. I just want to hear human Jake Sully tell me how he feels without using his avatar to try and win me over.” 
Jake’s tail swishes behind him. “You prefer the dummy in the wheelchair?”
“I like your wheelchair,” you tell him quietly, running your hand up his arm as he pins you flat against the boulder with a hand on your stomach. 
“I don’t,” he murmurs. “I like being like this. I like being bigger than you. I like smelling how much you like me.”
All of a sudden, your legs swing shut around him and you look at him in disbelief.
“Freak.”
All he does is smile. 
“Come on, Jake, I actually don’t have time for this,” you say around a groan, trying to move against him but failing miserably. An exasperated smile falls on your face. “Really? What are you even trying to achieve? You’re seducing me with your avatar?”
His ears twitch and he angles his head to the side. “Yes?”
“Why am I getting the impression that all of this has something to do with Norm somehow?” you sigh in reply, but Jake notices the way you fall relaxed underneath him, and he has the feeling you’re in no real hurry to get anywhere else tonight. 
“Well, it might have something to do with it,” Jake confesses, his voice lower than it was before as he draws his nose close to you and takes a deep inhale. The feeling of his braid flicking down from his back and brushing against your thighs makes you shudder, not to mention the feeling of his snout against your collarbones. “Really, I just want to spend some time with my girl while I got the chance to.”
Whatever you want to say or have planned to say dies away when you feel Jake’s lips wander and press against your sternum. 
Sighing, you shift your hands to his arms that have you pinned down and carefully squeeze. “Good luck with that, Sully.”
He runs his tongue flat against your skin and hears you exhale through your nose, a noise of satisfaction muffled by your closed mouth, and all at once, Jake’s decision is final.
He is going to fuck Norm’s sister. 
And he’s going to rub salt on Norm’s wounds by doing it in the way that will piss him off the most.
Jake kisses his way down the length of your body, his hands moving around your figure like a sculptor until his hands find their way to your thighs. Though oversized and covering most of them, Jake’s hands circle around the width of your thighs and he strokes his thumbs across the inside skin of them, all while laughter bubbles in your chest.
All of this is just so absurd. If someone had told you this morning that Jake so much as liked you back, it would have taken some convincing, but if they had gone as far as to suggest he’s be attempting to seduce you in his avatar in a little chunk of forest behind the lab you pretty much live in, you would have laughed at the delusion of the thought. But now, there’s no denying the very tangible view of Jake’s Na’vi hands pressing down on your thighs, his eyes staring up over the slope of your body as you pick your head up to look down at him.
“This is crazy,” you gasp.
Jake’s teeth reveal themselves against the stretch of skin he was just pressing kisses onto, his smile widening as he speaks. “You don’t want to, baby?”
You weigh your options. It’s either leave and go back to the lab and hope that Jake follows through on his apparent feelings for you in the morning… Or you can relax and enjoy.
“Jake…” You pause for a moment. You want to enjoy it, and you feel the pool of desire deepen inside of you and know it’s a sensation Jake can most likely smell. 
He’s still your Jake, still the same guy you dote over when he remembers he has a life outside of being Na’vi. The only difference now is that he’s blue, and mobile, and double your size in every definition of the word. And suspiciously attractive, but you don’t know for certain if you think that because it’s Jake or because it’s actually true as a fact. But you just can’t help but wonder if Jake’s climaxing feud with Norm is the only reason he’s pinning you to a boulder in the forest and kissing your stomach. 
“You’re not just doing this to piss off Norm, are you?” you ask, feeling serious all of a sudden. The only way you know Jake notices is from the way his ears flatten against his head and his eyes grow round with concern. 
In the light, his tail flicks from side to side in the way you recognise most Na’vi do when they’re nervous, and you fight the urge to look away from him when he stays quiet for a second, thinking of what to say in a loud silence.
Of course he’s doing this because he knows it will piss Norm off if and when he finds out. As soon as Norm catches a stinking whiff of Jake on your body when he’s in his own avatar surveying the mountains, there will be nowhere for Jake to run or roll off to and avoid Norm’s volcanic rage. But he knows as well that this is a long time coming — that he’s been chasing circles around your feet for the fun of it, and now the chance has come for him to bring what he’s buried to the surface and shape it into something more.
Jake very carefully thinks of what to say. “Knowing that if I fuck you right now it will piss off your insanely annoying brother makes me want to do it more. But if the only reason I was fucking you was to piss him off, then I’d be doing it in front of him.”
Your brows raise. 
“Okay, that came out wrong,” Jake says quickly. “My point is… I go crazy thinking about you. And everything I think about doing to you can be made possible when I’m, as you said, all big.”
“But… Norm—”
Jake groans, all smiles. “Oh my god, can we please stop bringing up your brother for a sec? It’s a huge turn off.”
“It doesn’t make me feel any sexier, either,” you point out, “but I’m just thinking—”
“Don’t think,” Jake tells you. “This is the one time you don’t have to think about anything at all except for how you’d like me to take care of you.”
Jake returns his face to your stomach as you blink furiously, a flustered feeling creeping up over your body at the bluntness of his words. If you thought he was playing around, you’re officially convinced when his hands tighten around your thighs and he spreads them apart, pinning them down against the boulder he’s made your bed for the night. You inhale a deep breath when Jake’s thumbs dip underneath your shorts, bunched around your inner thighs.
“I suppose it would be like killing two birds with one stone…”
Jake laughs against your skin. “Jesus Christ, Spellman, quit talking so much. Who knew you were such a yapper?”
“Am not,” you protest.
You shudder when he plants another kiss on your abdomen, pings the fabric of your shorts back against your skin with a sharp sting and he grunts with a nod.
“Okay,” Jake agrees, his ears high and tail swishing playfully. “Now take off your cardigan.”
Still watching Jake on your forearms as he hooks his fingers around the waistline of your shorts in an effort to pull them down, you wrangle a sigh of protest and lift your lower body up for him, all whilst reaching for the buttons on the front of your cardigan. 
You breathe heavily as you mumble, “Do you really need to take off all my clothes, Sully?”
“One of us is halfway there, honey, and it’s not you,” replies Jake. His golden eyes watch with intent as he pulls the shorts down the expanse of your legs with your underwear in tow. As you shudder with the breeze fanning between your legs, Jake takes a big inhale and stares.
He barely moves an inch once the shorts and panties are in a bunch around your feet, but you busy yourself by sweeping a look at Jake’s own attire, or striking lack of. Between his legs hangs his tewng, a simple and sparsely intricate item of clothing that leaves little to imagination when it comes to what is growing between his thighs. 
It’s standard attire for the Omatikaya, but you’ve never seen it up close, and never on Jake himself. It hits you then that he’s still in his entire hunting gear, as if he finished up with Neytiri and brought himself here right away.
Jake’s thighs clench as he finally moves, readjusting his footing in his dropped squat; to him, this position has become as natural as breathing, but you stare at his thighs bulging and wonder how he’s not in agony from it alone.
Jake looks up at you after his allocated time spent analysing the spot growing wet between your legs and you gulp, feeling almost nervous. 
“Well, you’re gonna be an Omatikaya soon. One of the consequences is wearing your little g-string everywhere.”
His head leans to the side as his amusement grows. “It’s called a tewng, genius.”
That makes you laugh, and say in a melodic and sweet tone, “I know.”
But Jake bites back with the same sweet tone as you and says, “Then shut up,” and you comply. It’s the least you can do for him when he smooths his big hands back between your legs and up close to your cunt.
Pressing a kiss to the inside of your knee, Jake inches his hands further, relishing in a deep breath as he returns to staring at the spot just inches from his fingers. From his perspective, you are hideously tiny; given the obvious lack of research on Na’vi and human sexual relations, Jake isn’t totally sure you’ll be able to withstand what he wants to give you.
Worth a try, though.
Jake’s chest rises and falls as he stares in wonder at your pussy, the scent divinely pronounced, and he runs one of his fingers between your folds and up, collecting the juices on his finger as he rounds your clit in a rather observational manner. 
You bristle, your legs instinctively trying to close — all the good it does, as Jake pushes them back open. His eyes flicker back up to yours, as if assessing his next steps, before he lowers his mouth to your cunt and without doing you the kind service of looking away, stares at you as he spreads his tongue flat between your folds.
His actions earn him a strangled moan of pleasure, and his ears twitch in satisfaction. The feeling of his tongue against you is strangely addicting, rough and soft at the same time, warm and wet and enough for your hips to lift. 
“Jake…” You gasp, feeling your eyes close, half with the pleasure of it all and also sheer embarrassment. 
Like a predator watching its prey, Jake never looks away from your face and the way it twists, your jaw hanging open as he licks your cunt. With the size of his head alone, his tongue virtually covers every corner of your pussy with no difficulty, leaving you with no untouched itch, no ignored stretch of wet skin. 
You can’t even bear to look down at him again, and you toss your gaze up to the stars as they twinkle above, blinking, conspirators to your escapade. Biting down on your lip to stop yourself from moaning too loud, your hips slowly roll up and down as Jake sucks around your clit, his big hands working overtime to keep you from wriggling away entirely off the rock and to the ground.
“Oh, god…”
Between your legs is a flurry of warmth, a tingling feeling rippling down to your toes. After five dry years, it comes as no real shock that even someone’s tongue could be ripping this kind of response from you. 
“You good?” Jake murmurs.
“Mmh. Hot,” you rasp. It doesn’t help that there’s an exo-pack warming your face with every deep breath you take. Jake moves his mouth from your cunt momentarily as if trying to hear you, watching with curious eyes when you bite back another noise which stirs as he slides his finger towards your entrance. 
“This mask is really ruining my vibe right now,” you groan, your voice so throaty and strangled that Jake has to fight a smirk. He fails miserably.
“Take it off and hold your breath,” Jake replies; a laugh rumbles from his chest when you lift your head to scowl at him.
“It would frighten people if they knew how much of a genius you were.”
Jake hums, his eyes glistening as he cocks his head, “I’m incredibly humble.” Then he wastes no more time talking and sinks his finger into you.
He sinks in with plenty of ease, your wetness guiding his finger all the way in to the knuckle and you choke back a strangled sound; one of Jake’s fingers feels like two of your own, the stretch unfamiliar but not unwelcome after your dry spell of five cryo-stolen years. 
Jake grins widely and inches his tongue back between your legs, swiping it over your clit and forcing the moans out from hiding in your throat.
You turn your head to the side, sparing a glance at the distant laboratory. You can only hope you’re not loud enough to startle your sleeping colleagues and brother.
“Eyes down here, Spellman,” Jake mumbles, his voice vibrating across your pussy and pulling your eyes back towards him. Tears spring to your eyes as he looks up at you, working his fingers in and out of you slowly while matching his licks to the tempo.
His tongue is slightly rough and textured, each lick leaving you feeling almost ticklish. A rush of warmth pulls from your cunt up to your neck, and your thighs tremble around his head with a flushed squeeze, but Jake doesn’t seem to mind; he pulls your one leg further apart with his other hand and slips in a second finger, the stretch of your hole making your back arch with a half pained, half pleasured moan.
“Jake!” you gasp, your hips bucking up against his mouth, his fangs brushing across you. He has the nerve to laugh all of a sudden, pulling his mouth away after pressing a sloppy kiss to your clit. “Jesus, fuck, Jake—”
“Goddamn, you are a yapper,” Jake comments, and you glare at the almost human look of pure smugness on his face, his chin coated with saliva and juice. 
“Fuck you,” you huff, feeling the absence of his tongue immensely, despite his continuously moving fingers. Jake’s fingers are thicker than they looked from afar — it feels like you’re full already, but you’re not willing to confess that to him. He already looks far too proud with what he’s doing.
You suppose, now that you’re thinking about it, Jake’s had years to become familiar with a pussy; he seems to be back between your legs with a certain hunger for you, the taste of your juices sweeter than he initially expected. 
His fingers are coated in juice, slipping into you with no resistance and curling his fingers up to make your hips lift once more. He almost wants to make a comment to fluster you, to tell you how insanely good it feels for your cunt to be quivering around his fingers, welcoming him up there as if you’d prepared for them beforehand. Jake parts his fingers inside of you, stretching you out, his mouth comfortably attached to you.
His ears twitch when you let out a wobbly cry — actually, he’s not sure if you’re crying for real or not. His eyes follow your hand as it creeps down to the hood of your pussy, just above his nose, and he pulls his mouth away for a split second.
“No, no, go back,” you pant, and like a dog given a command, Jake pulls his soggy fingers out of your cunt and pushes his head back between your thighs, satisfied by your own pleasured sounds when he does.
Jake hooks his arm across your lower stomach, effectively pinning you to the sloping boulder while he uses his other hand to keep your legs wide apart. You forget all about modesty and self-control and open them as wide as you can for him to help, your hand stroking the top of Jake’s hair as he burrows his way back between the wet spot he was devouring. 
You suck in a tight and high-pitched breath when Jake’s tongue shifts from left to right over your clit, the feeling of his tongue strange and almost like a vibration. Your hips lift from the boulder again and shift up and down — Jake’s barely even trying, barely broken a sweat, but when he glances up at you he’s both amused and surprised by how twisted in pleasure you look. All he can see is the underneath of your jaw tilted to the sky, and one of your hands curling up around your tit under your tank top.
Jake guides his arm from trapping your abdomen up to push the bottom of your tank up above your wrist. There’s no way he’ll let you gatekeep the sight of your tits when he’s the one making you touch yourself in the first place. His eyes are wide with excitement when you fist the fabric of your tank and yank it up above your boobs, the curve of them bouncing with the quick movement of your hand. 
Jake groans into you, his tail curling up high. Jake’s tasted a lot of pussy in his life, but he doesn’t know what exactly you’ve done to taste so good to him. He momentarily convinces himself that it feels different because he’s in a whole other body — it must just be because he’s big and strange and he’s been fucking you in his mind for a while now that you somehow feel ten times better than anyone else he’s ever been with. 
The pool of warm juice between your legs leaves you incredibly soft and squishy, like a tìhawnuwll that he has to remind himself he can’t just sink his teeth into.
It could be because you’re Norm’s sister. Could be because you usually appear so big when he’s resorted to sitting down all day, but now you’re helplessly tiny underneath him, trapped by his arms and head. Or it could just be because he’s an idiot who quashes his feelings rather than gives in to them.
He blinks. Your lips are so high off the boulder that Jake has to bring his arm back down to hold you in place. The less you squirm, the more drawn out he can make it, but he’s acutely aware of the tremor in your legs, the impatient rutting against his lips, the painful hardness under his tewng.
“Sweet,” he grumbles. The word leaves you flustered, and the heat brewing like a bomb against his open mouth begins to rise through your body again. You forget to be quiet as you let out a high-pitched moan, feeling your toes curl in your boots and you desperately finger at your nipple, rolling and tugging on the hardened nub of flesh as Jake pins you tighter against the boulder. He laves his tongue down your cunt towards your entrance, the warm tip of it pushing to the tightened hole that Jake wants more than anything to squeeze himself inside.
“Mf — Jake, come on,” you whimper.
One of his thin brows raises. “You seduced yet?”
“Fuck off. Yes.”
You feel the rumble of his laughter against your pussy. Jake presses a kiss against it and then moves his mouth to the soft skin of your inner thigh. 
“I never let a woman go without making her cum,” Jake says, his voice muffled against your leg. He feels you quiver beneath him, and his grin widens. “You wanna at least cum first, right?”
“Please, Jake—”
A startled cry of pain rips from your throat when Jake gently sinks his teeth into your leg — Jake knows his own strength and pulls back before he can draw blood, glancing at the red outline of his teeth imprinted into your leg, a ridged ring of saliva in his wake. Your head is lifted entirely to gape at him, and he looks at you with a coy expression.
“Did you just bite me?”
He smirks. “Accident. Sorry.”
“Yeah right.” Your legs shift slightly around him, but Jake can smell the twisting agony of pleasure leaking out of you — he’s never been more thankful for his Na’vi body and its strange sense of smell than he is now, to be able to pick up on the need you try to hide from him, a scent he actually understands. Normally he can admire your determination, but right now, he’s more concerned with finding out how to break down your walls and unravel you the way he knows you’ve been wanting him to for the last two months.
He smooches the bite one more time, his ears pricking when you whimper out a sort of desperately small sound and say, “Come on, Jake. You got me out here, don’t torture me about it.”
“Me eating your pussy not enough for you?” he asks smugly. He knows it would be more than enough — call him conceited, but he’s sort of an expert on it by now.
You don’t say much, nothing worth noting, at least. Jake’s ears are tall as he lifts his head slightly, but his thumb continues to rub up and down your slit, carefully smoothing over your swollen clit almost sympathetically.
“Please,” you beg in such a small and desperate voice that Jake smiles at the sound. You see his eyes flutter, half-lidded, as he cocks his head to the side until his temple is against your knee. 
“Hm? You just wanna say please and get it over and done with?” Jake mutters. “You can’t take any more of my fingers?”
“Don’t be a prick,” you whimper. “You want it, too.”
You feel that unkind heat simmer over you again, but not for the reason you expect. Jake blinks at you lazily, like an unimpressed cat, and then you watch as his eyes curve into crescent moons, the slint of gold virtually glowing in the Pandoran night. Then, the fucker smiles again, looking so smug that you feel embarrassed somehow, caught under his gaze.
“Yeah, I do,” agrees Jake. “I’ve been wanting you a long time.”
“Then, come on,” you urge. Something excited claws at you, and you feel your heartbeat race when he lifts himself slightly. “Come on, big guy. You got me out here, you win.”
He swells with pride, pleased by what is leaving your mouth in a flustered flurry. 
“You think you can take me all by yourself?” he asks, his hands coming to rest on your knees as he turns his gaze back to the clenching hole between your legs. Jake looks almost thoughtful as he stares at you, as if analysing. “You could only just take two fingers.”
For such an intelligent woman, Jake finds himself amazed when you look anxious about that statement. What, do you really think he’ll just give up and go? Jake doesn’t care if it takes all night to get himself up your snatch, because no matter what, he’ll get himself in there.
He sniggers when your mouth flounders like a little fish, your tank sliding with the angle of your body back down over your tits, but then he tuts and reaches back to pull it up. In fact, he decides it’s better off, and he uses one finger to pull the whole thing up to your chin, and lets you suffer in an anxious string of actions — you tug the tank up over your head, eyes wide, lip pouting. 
“Wanna try?” Jake asks, if not to speed along the increasing agony of his hard cock tenting under his tewng then just to put you out of your misery. “Or should I go back for seconds?”
“Jake…” Your chest rises and falls as you gape at him. He went through all the trouble to get you here, and although you never expected to look at Jake’s avatar and feel a throb between your legs, you can’t even look at him without feeling overcome with the terrible, pressing desire to squeeze whatever weapon he has under his loincloth into your cunt. Jake watches your eyes look down at the darkness between his legs, to the pretty band of string tied around his middle, and then looks back at you with a sickeningly sweet expression.
“Aw, honey. You want me to fuck you?”
It takes an incredible amount of effort not to scowl at him. Jake is lucky he looks so attractive with your arousal around his lips, otherwise you’d be up off the boulder and marching back to the labs for being so unbelievably full of himself. 
But even though he’s double your size and consumed by a cocky smugness from being able bodied and towering over you, you can’t think of enough reasons to warrant your leave. The only things on your mind are how much it’ll hurt to get him inside you, and how good it’ll feel once he is.
“That’s why you brought me here, after all, isn’t it?” you murmur, your lips curved slightly when he bows his body over you, his hands flat against the boulder on either side of your waist. “You’ve been thinking of me, right? Oeyä sayrìp tsamsiyu — you must have thought about this every time you went and found me a flower, right?”
Jake’s smile turns wolfish. “Yap, yap, yap.”
You all but whine underneath him. It is so unbecoming of you to be so desperate for something that you resort to writhing like a brat, but with Jake just straddling over you without doing anything, you feel the eager feeling of want coiling in your lower stomach. Your hole clenches around the air, as if trying to feel for Jake’s fingers again, and you lift your hips up off the boulder as if to entice him.
He barely even looks down at you, which only infuriates you more. 
For a moment, you wonder if the only reason he lured you out here was to satiate a desire of his own; maybe he just wanted to prove that he still had what it took to make a woman beg for him — though he needn’t have tried so hard, considering you’d have writhed and whined for him just as much, if not more, had he just made it known that he knew about and returned your feelings sooner.
But having you touch him in an impossible silence in the shared bunks pales in comparison to now, to having you look so small and soft and inviting; for you to beg for him, to let yourself be ravaged by him in all of his strength. Why would he prefer to have you while he feels useless when he can make the most of the strong, brawny and big body his brother passed down to him?
Jake breathes deeply through his nose and chews on the inner skin under his lips. You watch in the dark as his tail coils, his ears flat, until he lowers his body down like he’s doing a press up and pushes his nose against your sternum. 
“You smell so pretty, baby girl,” Jake mutters, pressing a kiss against the skin sloping between your tits. Biting your lip does little to suppress the moan that spills out when Jake cups one of his hands around your breast, and you hold the back of his hand as he gently squeezes. 
The hanging cloth of his tewng brushes past your pussy and you jolt in surprise, just in time for Jake to bring his mouth down over your other boob. The sheer size of Jake dwarfs every feature of yours, but something about your tiny size only excites him more. 
With his lips wrapped around your tit, you try your hardest to muffle another moan at the feeling of his tongue toying around your nipple, desperately trying to find something to focus on that isn’t the absurdly good feeling of Jake’s mouth or the tewng brushing past your pussy every time Jake rocks his hips backwards and forwards.
You clench your hand over his, feeling your legs squirm around him as his sharp teeth scrape against the squishy curve of your breast. Fear should rip through you when you feel his teeth tighten around the top of your tit, but it doesn’t; instead, a rush of warm excitement burns you from the inside out when Jake’s cheeks hollow, sucking a purple blot into your skin.
“Hey—” you say cautiously, but the damage is already done. It’s as if Jake’s determined to make you the same shade as him; the mark he leaves is blooming and bright, and he looks all too proud of himself when he looks up in acknowledgement of your voice. His tail thrashes excitedly. 
“Leaving that so everyone can see what you were doing when they wake up,” Jake explains, licking a strip from the swelling bruise to your neck for good measure. “My dirty scientist.”
That is if you ever make it back to the lab in one piece. 
Feeling the pleasure spreading across your body, you’re half contemplating staying here on this rock forever, hoping that Norm or Grace never come back here looking for samples only to find your corpse. You’re overcome with a conflicting contrast of emotions — you suddenly feel so exposed, so unraveled, half guilty for encouraging Jake to shove his big blue fingers up your crotch, and even guiltier about the fact that you want more from him.
“Enough. Come on,” you huff, and Jake dips his attention back to the rutting of your hips, the glossy shine of your arousal. “While I’m wet.”
“You really think I’m gonna let you dry up before I can get inside you?” Jake asks, as if the idea is beneath you both. “Have some confidence in me, Spellman.”
“I do. Full confidence. So, come on, gimme.”
Jake grins; he leans his weight up on one knee and in the light, you can just about see the protruding point of his tewng and feel your desire pooling. It’s only when Jake undoes the string around his waist and frees what hides beneath that you start to feel your body tense unexpectedly; it is beyond you how Jake has managed to keep the spear he calls his cock hidden for so long, and even more unthinkable as to how it will fit inside of you. 
You stare at it with wide eyes. Meanwhile, Jake holds the base of it with his hand and assesses the space between your legs again. When he guides the tip to your folds and strokes himself up and down, you feel your heartbeat quicken and your legs turn like jelly.
“You like it?” he asks, ever so sweetly, as if it’s a new gift brought back for you to enjoy. In a way, it is a gift, something for you to sample. Jake’s body seems to vibrate with nothing short of delight at the speechless state his dick has left you in — and he hasn’t even put it in yet.
“Big, right?” he continues to ask, a smirk on his face.
All you can say is, “how do you walk around with that thing?”
He barks out a laugh, his head tilted to the stars as his smirk widens. Jake then pushes the tip against you again with his thumb, choking down his amused sniggers as he drags himself up and down your cunt, and more than anything, he wishes he could see your face better in the moonlight. Luckily, Jake’s spent hours staring at you in his wheelchair to be able to piece together the smudges of your features he can see in the reflection of light hanging over the front of your mask. And what he can’t see, he’ll hear, and what he’s not satisfied with not seeing he’ll seek from you again later.
“It’ll be a tight fit,” Jake thinks out loud, prodding the tip of his cock against your entrance and looking up at you once you whimper, “but I know you can take it.”
“I dunno… Looks kind of big—”
“You can fit it in,” he tells you confidently.
But now you’ve seen it, you’re slightly nervous. “What if I can’t—?”
“You were just begging me for it,” Jake says pointedly. “While I’m wet, you said.” Then, he leans forward so that the wide slope of his nose is pushed against the front of your mask. “I don’t care if it takes all night trying. I’ll help you fit it all in, okay?”
You breathe in sharply, feeling your hips grinding up against him. Jake tries to find sympathy for you; he supposes that if he were you and some ten foot Na’vi was trying to burrow his cock between his legs, he’d be apprehensive too. 
“Just…” you rasp, watching him desperately, and he waits kindly, though his tip is on the verge of being swallowed by your cunt. Your legs tremble when he smiles at you, one hand on his cock, the other flat against the boulder. “Just go slow, okay?”
The way he looks at you is as if you’ve just said something stupidly endearing. “Sure thing, Spellman.”
Jake does his best to keep up his presented facade of coolness, but you feel so warm and wet, his arm begins to shake as he supports his weight on the boulder, grunting when he aligns his cockhead with your hole and very slightly pushes in. Even though he only just had his fingers up there, he can feel your pussy resisting, and it’s only the tip. 
Your mouth hangs open with a pained whine, the stretch uncomfortable but in spite of it, you arch your back as if trying to feel more of him inside of you.
“Easy,” he chuckles, very slowly pushing more of himself into your pussy. The noises from your mouth grow louder, and something proud purrs in his chest. His tongue pushes against the inside of his lower lip as he smirks, teeth showing, as he makes an almost amused groan. You’re insanely tight, and unbelievably squishy and wet — and hey, it’s been five years for him, too.
“Yeah,” Jake groans, pushing his hips further and pulling out, each stroke gentle and tentative. He wants more than anything to go rough, to make you mewl and cry and curl up against him, but the tearful look on your face makes him reconsider. Each time he sinks in a little bit deeper, softening the resistance of your walls as they make room for him. 
It takes an incredible amount of self restraint to stop himself from shoving all of it in at once; you’re so tight, the tightest pussy he’s ever felt closing around his cock, and easily the best. Jake closes his eyes for a second, honing in on the squeezing clench around his cock and the unnerving, uncharacteristic silence leaving your gaping mouth. 
“Talk to me, Spellman,” Jake groans, inching deeper inside. His ears perk again when you cry as he sinks in deeper. “Say something.”
“You told me I talked too much,” you manage out, admirably trying your hardest to remain quiet despite the pushing twelve inches of Na’vi cock up your cunt. Jake’s barely even inside of you; more of his dick is out than it is stuffed inside. 
“I love hearing you talk,” replies Jake, even though he had just poked fun at your ability to talk someone’s ear off. Had he known it would swear you into silence now, he’d have never said anything. What Jake wants now most of all is to hear your voice again, hear your pleasure, your instructions, your pleas. 
Hearing you slip out a high pitched moan when he pushes more of his cock inside of you feels like a reward almost. 
“Could listen to you yap away all damn day,” he murmurs quietly, his eyes finding yours behind the glaze of the exo-pack. “I know you’ve always got something to say, so why’re you so quiet all of a sudden?” Jake’s grin brightens when you manage to suck in more of his length, “Talk to me, baby, tell me what you want, hm?”
“Just… Put it in,” you whimper, and his eyes widen excitedly. 
“You said to go slow.”
“I know what I said, but I need more.” Your eyes are so blown open he’d laugh if it didn’t look so goddamn sexy. “Please, Jake.”
“You sure?” he croons. 
“Mm. Please — come on, please—!”
Jake snaps his hips forward so quickly that more than half of dick disappears inside of you, and the primal noise that leaves your mouth takes Jake completely by surprise. 
“Fucking shit, mama,” Jake groans, his voice rasped as he bows his chest over yours, dropping to his forearm on the boulder as he adjusts to the warmth enveloping him. “Holy shit.”
You swallow a deep breath, your hands gripping tightly to Jake’s shoulders which forces his eyes to your face. He can make out the distinct shimmer of tears under your eyes, and he brushes his fingers across the side of your neck, tapping you to bring your eyes open and searching for him in the dark. 
“You with me?” he asks, chuckling slightly. “You good?”
“Oh my god,” you squeal, cunt clenching. “Wait—”
“Breathe,” Jake says quietly, pressing a kiss to the swollen bruise he sucked into your skin earlier. “You can do it, pretty girl.”
“Keep moving, it hurts when you just stay still.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he mutters, his hips falling back into a slow rhythm to keep you adjusted to his twitching cock. It’s almost disturbing how easily you’re taking him now he’s forced more of his length inside, how wet and responsive you seem to be as he sinks deeper into you.
At first, Jake goes slow, familiarising himself with every noise you give him, every twitch and shift in your body, every clench around him. You feel the smooth ridges of his cock kissing your insides, the sensation unfamiliar and strange but so fucking good. He snakes one hand under your back when you lift up off the boulder; his large palm is flat against the arch of your spine, his fingers curled around your hip. 
You look like a toy underneath him, something he could easily just hold with one hand and fuck himself up into.
His hips snap again, faster than he intended, and more of his dick disappears inside of you. You could easily take all of him if he took his time getting you to that point, but the warmth wrapping around him like a glove is so sinful that he can’t think of anything less appealing than going slow. He sucks in a deep breath through his teeth and squeezes your waist with his hand; one desperate little cry from your mouth later, and Jake forgives himself for having waited so long to get you in this position, to fuck you stupid. 
It’s been so long since Jake’s been able to fuck a woman like this, and for his first time since his accident to be with you, of all people — well, Jake could think of no greater victory, no better reward for all the shit he’s endured so far. 
He stares down at the gap between your legs, watching as his dick vanishes and reappears with every rock of his hips. You’re taking it so well, like a champion. Pride blooms in his chest — he’d expect nothing less from his woman.
Pulling your hips down slightly to meet him as he thrusts up, Jake shoulders the control and moans in a low tone, pushing until he feels your body seize underneath him. Then, he pulls back, falls back in, and gets himself comfortable.
The stretch no longer burns the way it did, but you feel as though you can barely breathe as Jake ruts his hips up. He’s so big in every definition of the word. He doesn’t seem to notice nor care about the deep indent of your fingernails in his shoulder; he seems entirely devoted to gaining momentum, creating his own pace with his ears flat against his bowed head.
“God… Jake,” you moan, feeling the slight point of the boulder against your shoulder blades and his hand squeezing your middle as you finally speak, after what feels like eons of silence to Jake.
He latches his gaze to the rise and fall of your breasts as he fucks you, his breathing heavy. “Oh, you like that?”
Ever so slightly, he hastens his pacing, eliciting a tearful sob from your mouth. “Mmf—”
“Is it everything you hoped for?”
His stomach churns when you laugh, albeit with a strangled kind of tone, and clench around his cock again.
“You’re so full of yourself.”
“So’re you,” he points out, lifting his chest slightly to glance down at your stomach. It should be criminal how turned on he feels by the sight of his own dick outlined in your lower tummy — it should be criminal how insanely good it feels knowing he’s fucking a part of you nobody else has before. You’ve lost all self control as you decide to let yourself be noisy, which Jake is all too pleased to hear.
Peering down at your hips, you marvel at the sight of Jake’s frightening length pushing up against your stomach. It looks just as weird as it feels. Jake hisses and runs a hand across the spot his dick is hitting.
“Feel that?” he asks. He knows you do. It’s a stupidly dumb question, but you whine at it all the same. “I told you it would fit. Look at you, taking it all, no problem.”
“Mhm. Feels good; so, so, so good, Jake…” Your body feels limp and tingly, and you let your head fall back so your gaze is pointed up at the sky. Even as you blink dazed up at them, they have the striking appearance of Jake’s skin, the dark blue wash of sky with littered balls of bright white light. The image of him is printed on your mind, and no matter where you look to avoid his gaze, you find him again.
Jake shifts. Keeping his dick sliding in and out of you with more of an upbeat rhythm than before, he bows his chest back over yours and brings his ears close to your ear.
“A perfect fit for my perfect girl,” he mutters. He becomes so reliant on his one hand on the boulder when he uses the other to hold your leg up around his waist, bringing forth an entirely new burn from the stretch of it. His breath is warm on your ear, making you shudder. “How long you been waiting for me, baby?”
You scoff disbelievingly, trying to think of something to say despite your mind being both full and empty at the same time. All you can think about is the building pressure in your tummy.
“Long,” you offer, snaking a hand up his neck to the back of his head. 
Jake licks his tongue across the arch of skin connecting your neck to your collar. “Thinking of me with your fingers up your cunt at night, huh?” His hand squeezes around your middle when you begin to shift with his thrusts further up the boulder. Even with your loud cries in his ear, Jake can hear the squelching wetness around his cock, the tightening spasms around his length bringing him closer to giving in to the dull ache in his own stomach. “Bet you wheelchair Jake Sully couldn’t make you feel like this. Next time you get off to the thought of him, I want you to think of what we’re doing right now, about who’s got you feeling this way.”
“How…how do you even know about that?” you gasp, half pleasured by his thrusting and half horrified by the revelation that Jake might have been privy to the fact you masturbated with him in mind when everyone went to bed at night.
Actually, he didn’t know. But he sniggers smugly that his teasing jeer turned out to be true. 
Jake presses a kiss to your collar and peppers a line of them up until he is thwarted by the mask covering your face. Peering down at your face hidden behind it, Jake gives you a sad pout and says, “I wanna go fast.”
“I…” you start, his hips already moving and you feel the heat simmering below again. Anymore from him, and you’ll be finished, cumming all over him. “I don’t think… I’ll — I’m gonna—”
“Then let’s get it done,” he says with as much finality and refine as he can muster before he picks himself back up, finding the energy he had before to pin you down against the boulder. You keep your leg wrapped around his waist as he sets one hand down over your tummy, the other on your shoulder, and then the real fun begins for him.
Jake isn’t ignorant to the twisting ache inside of him — like you, he knows he probably doesn’t have that much longer until he’s completely tuckered out and ready to fill you up. What can he say? It’s been a long time, and he doesn’t have the same kind of stamina as he used to. You’re tightening up around him in anticipation; it’s like being gripped in a vice. 
He pulls his hips back and then pistons himself back in with so much speed that you almost fly up off the boulder in surprise. Too fast, he thinks, so he gets accustomed to a regular fast pace and sticks to it loyally. In return, he’s rewarded with a litany of pretty sounds, your hands curling around his arms, desperately trying to hold on. 
“Yeah, oh yeah,” Jake groans, feeling your cunt fluttering around him as he fucks in and out, slipping in and out of your wetness as if he owns it. The hand that’s pressing your shoulder slips to your throat, and while he doesn’t squeeze, you claw your fingers around his and feel his grip tighten ever so slightly. 
“Fuck!” you squeal, clamping your eyes closed suddenly. “Shit—Jake, baby—”
He moans at that, really moans. A ringing rises in volume in his ears as his thrusts grow more rapid, relentlessly smacking his hips up until he slides all of his dick inside of you. 
God, you’re fucking perfect — he can’t name many women, if any at all, who could take a dick this size with as much ease as you are now. But the increasing pressure in your tummy is so overwhelming that you’re not even too aware of the size of what’s getting comfortable inside of you. All you know and understand is that in the next three seconds, you’ll be seeing white.
Jake’s name falls like a mantra from your lips, and he looks at you in surprise to see that you’ve very bravely opened your eyes to stare at him, although the tears lining your waterline and smeared down your cheeks make your stare look ten times more attractive to him. He almost wishes he hadn’t looked — his hips stagger slightly and he growls, the noise earning him another whiney moan from the undone woman beneath him, the woman he’s committed to filling with his cum and making his.
“I—!” You say nothing — you don’t even have to. Jake feels your cunt strangling his length like a goddamn fist, and by the buffering look of pure ecstasy on your face, he’s fairly certain all of those things mean you’re about to cum.
“Yeah, mama, cum for me,” Jake coaxes. “Lemme feel you.”
The warmth around him clenches, and all of a sudden, your body seizes with a jolt, your back arched so high off the boulder that it leaves him hitting entirely new angles inside of you, pushing your orgasm to a new level. 
For you, it feels like you’ve been blown up. Your entire body is consumed by a blazing heat, your legs going immediately limp as you cum around him. Jake’s eyes instantly shift to your quivering hips, to your cunt still swallowing him up, the white dribbles of cum leaking down the length of his cock. He watches the small cluster of glowing freckles decorating his dick disappear behind a rolling drop of your cum and his jaw goes slack.
“My girl,” he crows, his head bowing as he eagerly fucks into you a few more times, muttering the same thing as he does: “Oh, my girl, my pretty girl—”
The hand around your throat rips itself away only to squeeze into your hips, as though Jake intends to leave fingerprints there once he’s done. He grips you tightly and with a monumental and low, throaty moan, he snaps his hips one final time and feels a tug in his tummy.
You probably feel him cum before he does. Jake seems caught up in his thrusts while you register the unmissable burst of warmth inside of you, ropes of cum spilling out as if his sole intention were to breed you, stuff you full of his seed. 
In actual fact, Jake just wanted to fuck you silly, fill you with boat loads of cum, and bask in the evil satisfaction of watching Norm smell Jake all over you, claiming you as his. 
“Mm—fuck, Jake!” you rasp, squeezing your little hands around his wrists. The feeling is enough to bring him up to the surface he was drowning under, the ringing in his ears dulling as he catches his breath and opens his eyes, staring down at the embarrassingly wet mixture of cum and juice between your legs. 
He stays inside of you for a moment, his dick still hard and even more pronounced up your cunt than it was before, and it’s as if his eyes are unfocused in absolute awe as he observes the sight of you stretched open, locking him in place greedily. 
It sinks in that you managed to fit all of him in, that he just used his avatar to fuck you in the forest behind the lab. You. Norm’s sister. The object of his desire. The woman of his literal dreams.
Jake lets out a loud and heavy breath, a sigh of relief, and rubs his palms up and down your stomach gently. Despite having had him fucking you just seconds before, you feel a heat flush over your face when he looks up at your face, sweaty and tear-stained under the exo-pack, and he grins wolfishly.
“You’re incredible,” he laughs, which makes the act of looking at him feel ten times more rewarding. Your body warms with the praise: all you’ve wanted was for Jake to like you back, and now, to be full of his cum and knowing he thinks you’re incredible… You laugh with him. 
A few disbelieving laughs later, and Jake finally moves his hands under your thighs and slowly pulls himself out of you. The bump of each ridge along his length knocks past you, and Jake stifles a howl of laughter at the whiney, high-pitched moan you make as his cock pulls out of you with a slick, wet pop. He cranes his head slightly to watch his cum pool out of you and you pick yourself up on your forearms, looking for his dick between his legs to have a final peek, a good look at him covered in your cum and his…
Your eyes widen. “Your cum glows.”
Jake raises his eyebrows. “What? Scientist of Pandora didn’t know Na’vi cum glowed?”
“I haven’t exactly had a selection of Na’vi men or women to tell me that it did!” you reason, your eyes still marvelling curiously at the shiny soft blue stain over the hanging fruit between his legs. 
He hums, poking a finger against your folds and smirking when you flinch. “Hm. Put that in your research notes. Wanna take samples?”
“Fuck off,” you laugh, keeping your legs wide as you struggle to sit upright. The discomfort between your legs is suddenly making itself known, and already the cum around your pussy and thighs is drying, sticky and thick. “Jesus, Sully. Look at me.”
“I know,” grins Jake, his eyes soaking up the image of you. “You’re fucking sexy.”
You roll your eyes with a twisting smile. While Jake seems incredibly fascinated with the marks he has either left accidentally or on purpose over your body, you groan and roll your shoulders. Frankly, you wish Jake had just thrown you down on the grass and fucked you there — in hindsight, the boulder had been a bad idea and you know it will come to haunt you in the morning.
Lazily, and yet with a rush of shame and exhilaration, you glance back at the lab, sitting in the curve of moonlight and caged by bioluminescent flowers and shrubs, each glowing vibrant spectrums of cyan and purple and lime. 
“You’re the luckiest woman alive if nobody heard you yapping,” Jake says playfully, rising upright to stretch the agonised muscles of his legs. “You’re so noisy, honey.”
“I apologise for not thinking too much about the volume of my voice,” you drawl sarcastically, your eyes still glued to the glazed thick glass windows looking into the back of the lab. Anxiously, you glance at him, “Was I that loud?”
He gives you a tight, sympathetic smile. You frown.
“You weren’t quiet yourself, you know,” you grumble, feeling the pinch in your back ease slightly.
“Yep.” And he seems smug about that fact, for reasons beyond you, although you wager a guess as to why he seems proud all of a sudden.
As you shuffle awkwardly off the boulder, you wince as you lean for your shorts and panties, dropping a little look at the sliding dollop of cum slipping out of you. 
“You gotta keep it in there,” Jake says. 
“Jake, as soon as I stand up and walk around, it’s all gonna come pouring out anyway.”
His lip curls with disappointment as he watches his cum drip out of you onto the edge of the boulder, splatting on the wisps of grass around your ankles. It’s a good thing he’s full of copious reserves of cum to give back to you another time.
“Can’t wait for Norm to get a whiff of me,” Jake tells you, and you fight the urge to sigh and roll your eyes, because of course — of course that had been a motive for the gallon of glowing blue sperm Jake just squoze into you. “The look on his face when he figures out I’ve been breedin’ his little sister—”
“I have never been more thankful of the fact that Na’vi and humans can’t reproduce together. Hand on my heart, I mean that.”
You slide your shorts and panties back up your legs and reach for your thrown tank top. The inconspicuous smudges of green from the boulder across the back of it fill you with a puny drop of dread — you’ll just pray really hard to both God and Eywa that nobody pays it any mind. 
That and the bulbous bruise on your tit, the bite on your leg, the finger indents on your hips.
“I was doing that thing you were doing. Killing two birds with one stone,” Jake says as he searches the ground for his tewng. “Fucking you ‘cause I wanted to and fucking you because I know wanting you is gonna piss off your annoying big brother.”
You had said that, hadn’t you? And even though the entire scheme of Jake wanting to scorn your brother so badly that he has to use you as a human fuck-toy seems ludicrous, you can’t deny the very minuscule jolt of thrill it gives you. It would be fun to piss Norm off a little bit. He has been a total arse lately.
“Norm’s all you think about,” you tease. “You sure you don’t like him instead?”
“Shut up.”
Jake hands you your cardigan with an amused smile, his tail whipping to and fro happily. 
“Your coat, ma’am.”
“Love how you only have one thing to slip back into,” you point out as you take the cardigan from him, and he reaches for the tewng and chuckles. “You could’ve just lifted it up.”
“Could’ve, would’ve, didn’t,” he replies.
There’s an uncharacteristic silence between you both as you climb back into your clothes, and while Jake fiddles with his tewng with his tongue between his lips, you look back at the lab and sigh. 
Somewhere in that lab is the man you’ve been thinking of for two months — Jake in his human form, lying in a link unit as he takes control through another body. You wonder what he might think when he wakes up: will he come searching for you in the dark? Come kiss you, tell you how he feels?
Jake creeps up to you with an alarming light foot, and the feeling of his hand on top of your head makes you look up suddenly. 
“What’s on your mind?” he asks. 
“You,” you sigh, looking back at the lab. “Are you going to follow through with tonight when you’re back as yourself, or is this an avatar Jake exclusive?”
“Come on. You still want that loser in there?” Jake feels his heart tug — he doesn’t know if to feel offended that you’re still thinking of someone else, or flattered because that someone else is technically him, the real him, the version of him that Jake hates the most.
“You’re so mean to him,” you grumble. Then pause, and add, “To you. That’s literally still you in there. If anything, doesn’t that make me look a little bit obsessed?” Jake gently pushes your head as you fall into a slow walk in the direction of the remote lab. “Wow. Actually, I just realised that’s true.”
“Finding out that you liked me was the only reason I started spending more than five minutes at a time in the lab,” Jake tells you. 
“Who told you?”
You both accept a short silence as you stride past the wall that most of the bunks are built against, and you feel an anxious knot forming in your stomach when the clearing at the front of the lab expands into view. 
“I meant it when I said you were horrible at hiding your crush on me,” Jake reminds you. 
Right. 
The tsawksyul Jake found you is thankfully still where you left it, and you slip out of Jake’s touch to fetch it from under the window, but when you turn to him, his eyes are pulled back across the miles of suspended mountains.
“You have somewhere else to be?” you call.
His top lip curls into a half pout as he says, “Not now. But tomorrow I’ve got to do some __ hunting. If I make a clean kill, I start my iknimaya.”
“Impressive,” you comment, twirling the tsawksyul between your fingers. “You… Will you be gone long?”
Jake hesitates for a moment. Is he reading into it, or are you looking a little bit more crestfallen now you know he’ll be gone for a little while longer?
“Why, you wanna go again?” he asks with a laugh.
“Respectfully, I think my vagina is broken and I need to lie down,” you quip, making him laugh even more. “I was just…curious. If you’re gone too long, I’ll be asleep before you get back.”
Jake creeps towards you and drops to a painful crouch. He’s definitely going to feel the cry and protest in his legs in the morning from being haunched for so long. Still, he frames your face with his hands and takes a long look at your face.
“I’ll roll past your bed extra quietly,” he promises. 
You snort and push yourself away from him. “Safe travels, big guy. I’ll see you in the morning?”
Peering up at him, you breathe in the sight of him one last time as he nods once and rises to stand. The long shadow drawn by his lithe figure falls over you.
“Affirmative,” he states. You look up at him for a second and smile. Did it take having his cock in your stomach for you to realise how pretty he is like this, or have you known all along?
“Go,” you tell him, nodding towards the edge of the cliff before turning to the door. Over your shoulder, Jake scoffs a laugh and turns on his heels, his eyes scanning the mountain range as he approaches the edge. 
The bravery you had before died long ago and you quickly twist the air-lock to the door and force it open, your heart in your throat. You don’t look back at him, even when he looks back at you with an endearing smile on his face.
The lab is deathly silent when you slide back inside. You were half expecting someone to stir at the sound of the door sealing shut, but if anyone’s awake, they make no effort to show it. Tip-toeing to the small bathroom, you very hurriedly go about your business and wipe away the eternal flood of cum from between your legs. With the amount Jake just put inside you, you’re fairly confident that even a human with an average sense of smell could sniff him all over you.
The long stalk back to your bunk is made silently and carefully. Norm is fast asleep on the top bunk he unhappily shares with Jake, the aforementioned’s bunk empty and cold, the link unit whirring quietly. Just the sight and sound of it makes you unnaturally nervous, and you turn to speed towards your bottom bunk and peer at Trudy. She’s out like a light. 
The thin blanket is pulled to your chin once you settle in the sheets, and you refuse to accept that it’s cowardice you feel when the sound of the link unit slowly begins to fade and Jake hauls himself out with a pained groan. You remain very still as he fumbles for his chair, though you fight the urge to get up, help him and while you’re at it, kiss him until he can’t breathe.
You hope your acting has improved since your terrible attempts of hiding your crush and try to make it look as though you’re asleep, but the distinct sound of rolling wheels makes its way towards where you sleep; you steady your breaths so it looks like you’re out of it, and perhaps Jake will fall for it this time. 
Your stomach tightens when the wheels stop next to your bed, and you’re uncomfortably aware of the set of eyes staring at you curled up and facing the wall.
Jake’s hand brushes the back of your head gently, and you’re not sure if that means you’ve been caught, but then you feel Jake’s fingers brush a section of hair away from your neck and nearly sigh at the feeling of his mouth pressing a kiss to the nape of your neck. It is so sweet, so fond and gentle, and annoyingly quick. He pulls away and the sound of wheels roll towards his own bunk.
Every sound he makes feels like it’s right in your ear. 
You almost wish you’d rolled over and took his face into your hands. But Jake’s smooch against your nape feels like a stolen secret, something shared between only you two, something special. 
No matter, you think as you wriggle to get comfortable. He’ll be there in the morning. And it’ll be the man you’ve wanted the entire time who wants you back who receives all your stirring desires.
951 notes · View notes
yawnetu · 2 months
Text
Prove To You
Pairing: Neteyam x Fem!Human!Reader
Warnings: AgedUp!Neteyam, Yandere!Neteyam, ***NON-CON***, Dub-con, Predator/Prey Kink, Chasing, Obsessive/Possessive Behavior, Oral (female receiving), Edging/Orgasm Delay, P in V, Knotting, Size Difference, Fingering, Slight Degradation (use of 'whore'), Belly Bulge, Lapdance (kinda), Creampie, Alien Genitalia, Squirting, A Few Ass Slaps, Mentions of drinking and being tipsy/drunk, Brief Violence/Violent Thoughts (not towards reader), Brief mention of pregnancy, Threat of cutting off another's kuru/neural queue, Thoughts of killing/murder, One (1) non-sexual face slap (reader slaps Neteyam)
Word Count: 9.7K 💀
A/N: Hiiiii it's been a while 🤷🏻‍♀️
Summary: It was only ever supposed to be a hookup, something fun to pass the time. But to Neteyam, it was so much more than that. He's in love with you, obsessed with you - his perfect little mate. But he doesn't know why you keep running away.
**PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS - DON'T LIKE, DON'T READ**
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Translations:
Yawne - Beloved
Tìyawn - Love
Tweng - Loincloth
Tawtute - Human
Kuru - Neural Queue
Tsaheylu - Bond, Neural Connection
Swoasey - kava bowl (constructed from seed pods, used for drinking intoxicating beverages)
Kaltxì - Hello
Pxir - Beer
Tsahìk - Spiritual Leader / Healer
Skxawng - Moron / Idiot
Iknimaya - Rite of Passage
Oel Ngati Kameie - I See You
Tanhì - Star
Muntxate - Wife, Female Spouse
Mawey - Calm
He’d only wanted to kiss you. To feel your soft lips pressed against his again. 
It had been so long since he’d gotten to feel them. The mask you have to wear is always a frustrating obstacle. He begs from time to time for you to pull it off, just for a moment, so he can press his warm lips to yours, taste your tongue on his just for a few blissful seconds before the lack of air catches up with you and you have to replace it.
You always say no, always push his hand away from where he has it cupped lovingly around the side of your head, but it never stops him from asking. 
You’re not wearing a mask now though. Instead, a long tube spans one side of your face, curling around your ear and stretching across your cheek before the very end of it forks off into your nostrils. At first glance he panicked, terrified of the thought of you out in the dangerous Pandora environment as a human without your only source of oxygen. It’s silly. He knows that you could have never made it to the village from the lab without some way of breathing. But he can’t help how he reacts, needing to be sure, needing to know that you’re okay. 
He’s at your side in an instant, kneeling in front of your tiny frame, large hands engulfing your head as his eyes searched your face in concern. You smack his hand away, answering his concerned questions of “Ma yawne, what is going on? Are you okay?” with a short “Fine. It’s the new tech the lab guys made,”
He calms, anxiety slipping from his body now that he knows you’re still safe. His eyes flicker over your face, a small smile pulling at his lips as he takes in all your beautiful features in front of him. You’re the most beautiful person he’s ever seen, he’s always thought that, ever since the very first moment he met you all those years ago. But now here, without the thick layer of glass covering your face, it’s like he’s seeing you for the first time all over again. 
“You’re so pretty, tìyawn,” He whispers, fingers unconsciously reaching out again to brush against your cheek. It’s finally accessible, bare and soft under his fingertips before the dull sting of another slap knocks his hand away. 
You don’t like public displays of affection. 
Or, at least, now you don’t. 
You used to not mind it. Back before that night in front of the fire, you would touch him all the time - sweet and gentle touches when you were talking, so tactile in your interactions with him. A quick squeeze to his knee whenever he was able to make you laugh, friendly half hugs as greetings that would make his heart pound in his chest every single time, your intoxicating scent filling his lungs and suffocating him in the best way. 
He’d keep his nose buried in your neck, breathing you in until you were all he could smell or think about for the rest of eternity if he could. 
He used to carry you places when you would tag along on fun adventures with him and his siblings. Excitement coursed through him every time you agreed to join them, tail swishing eagerly behind him because he knew that eventually you would get tired from walking and allow him to carry you on his back. You like to talk, prattling on about whatever was going on at the lab or a fun new piece of tech that Norm and the others were working on. Sometimes you’d talk about the current drama - someone said you talked too much, were too abrasive, but that you thought that they personally needed to grow a backbone. He’d listen to whatever you had to say - soaking up your voice like the most melodic song and committing every detail you provide him to memory. 
But your voice has a physical response on him. But the horrified looks his siblings would send him when they would see the tent in his tewng from where his hard cock had slipped out of its sheath was always well worth the embarrassment. The feeling of your soft skin on his - arms wrapping around his neck for balance, his hands completely engulfing your warm thighs from where they wrapped tightly around his torso as far as they could. He’s spent many nights imagining them wrapped around his waist from the front instead.
You didn’t mind public displays of affection when you drank an entire swoasey of pxir and danced in front of him by the fire. The celebration had wound down, the clan members satisfied in celebrating the induction of The People who had passed their Iknimaya just a few hours ago. Only a few younger adults who seemed to have the same idea as you remained now, each couple splintering off to different parts of the campground to get their much needed privacy. Even Lo’ak has moved away, enamored by the pretty girl sitting on his lap, uncaring about the way his hands slide down to cup her ass and pull her closer. 
The fading glow of yellows and oranges look amazing against your skin, the steady crackle of the fire like a song all on its own as your hips move to the music only your own head and nature provides. Neteyam’s eyes are wide, excitement coursing through his veins as he watches your hips sway. You sway too, your body a bit unsteady from the drink still in your hand, but mostly it's your hips - the sensual swish back and forth, beads from your tewng (a gift from Kiri he suspects) clank together against each other and your thighs. Your pretty thighs, so soft he wants to wrap his entire hand around them, spread them open for him and see you like he’s always dreamed of. You’d be so wet, so sticky and drenched for him that he’d be able to just slide right in. You were made for him. Made to take him. He’d fit between your thighs so perfectly despite your size difference, he knows he would. 
His breath catches in his throat when you dance closer, small body seductive in the way it calls to him with your movements. You toss the swoasey to the side, the little liquid that was left pouring out and soaking into the ground beside you. Your hands find their way to his bent knees, heat filled eyes never leaving his as you push his legs apart so you can stand between them, searing him with their intensity even from behind the glass of your mask.
Your hands slide up his legs, tiny fingers creeping up the insides of his thighs and he can’t help the audible gulp that escapes him when he feels his cock nudge against his already wet slit, threatening to poke out at any moment. 
Great Mother, you’re so gorgeous. The most beautiful woman Eywa has ever created. You must have been created by her - no other god or goddess or being could ever have made anything more perfect and irresistible than Eywa herself. 
Surely, the Great Mother has made you for him. Just for him. 
“Why so nervous, Teyam?” You giggle, leaning up as far as you can towards his face while still keeping your teasing hands on his thighs, dangerously close to the now bulging fabric. “Tawtute got your tongue?”
“I–um–” He chokes out. He can’t breath, can’t breath with you so fucking close to him. He wants you so badly, wants to touch you so badly he feels like he might die if he doesn’t.
And then you're turning in the cage of his open thighs, back pressing against his front as you grab his shaking hand. There’s a satisfied smirk on your face as you drag his arm around you, the large appendage spanning your entire chest as he sprawls his fingers out across your front. His fingertips automatically curl around the curve of your breast while his palm caresses the other through your beaded top, his body subconsciously reacting to your own guidance. 
His heart is pounding so hard he thinks it might explode in his chest, breathing labored as his hard cock digs into your back.
“You can touch me,” You whisper, but his ears flick at your words and catch them loud and clear. “Want you to play with me.”
“Ha-fuck,” He groans, mouth falling open in silent awe as your top shifts underneath his hand and his finger grazes your hard nipple. Without thinking his hand squeezes your chest, gently but firm enough for you to gasp as he greedily gropes both breasts at once. 
He can smell you now, the mind dizzying scent of your arousal filling the air around you both as you gasp and giggle excitedly at his sudden action, both of your tiny hands reaching up to grip at his big one as you press him tighter against you. 
“Come on, Teyam,” You moan, moan, and he’s not even touching you yet. You turn your head to look at him, craning your neck as you stare up at him with wide, lust filled eyes. “Have some fun with me.”
That night he spent with you under the hypnotic glow of the fire will be forever burned into his mind. Every detail, every moan, every sigh, every praise and whine and plea spilling from your lips as he made love to you for the very first time is kept under the sacred lock and key of his heart - a memory he saved with Eywa back at the Spirit Tree the morning after so that he would never have the possibility of forgetting. 
The memory of your gasp as he pushed you down, beads flying across the mossy ground as he tore your clothes off like an animal and how the roughness of it all made your arousal even stronger. His eyes greedy as they took in their fill of your beautiful body splayed out in front of him like a prize before he covered you with his own. Your fingers teased along his bullet wound scar, tracing the raised line with careful fingers, and he thinks that maybe your loving touch will be enough to fully heal it. 
The place between your thighs feels like home, your tiny pussy swallowing him up and holding him close like the most perfect combination of love and safety. Your voice ringing in his ears, sweet and sensual as you whimper and moan telling him faster, Teyam, fuck me harder, oh god, and he whines in return, cock throbbing and embarrassingly close to bursting so fast already, and sending up thanks and prayers to the Great Mother for granting him this amazing moment with you.
It’s the blending of two hearts, two souls made for each other and coming together as one in a bond so powerful that no one can ever break it. It doesn’t matter that you don’t have a kuru, Neteyam can feel you in himself anyway - can feel you wrapping your tiny fingers around his brain and heart and very being, solidifying your bond together without the need for tsaheylu. 
And when you pull your mask off, holding your breath as the hiss of air escapes from the broken seal around your face - he can’t breathe either. The feel of your lips on his, soft and demanding as you kiss him passionately as he fucks you on the forest floor, makes him see stars.
He’s not sure where the change of behavior came from. One day you were affectionate, touchy and giving with your love, surrounding him with your scent and embrace, pussy wrapped around his cock in a hug so tight he thought you might never let go. He wouldn’t mind that, being buried in your heat forever, warm and loved until the day he dies. But the next morning the walls came up, the attitude started, and when he had gone to greet you with a blinding smile and an adoring ‘kaltxì, yawne,’ on his lips as he bent to kiss your cheek, you pulled back and pressed a firm hand against his belly to push him away. 
He thought that your coldness was nerves, just a reaction a human might have to the new soul bond you’ve experienced. Humans don’t mate for life like the Na’vi do, but you’re special, you’re his, and Eywa has blessed your union and made it so even though it should not be possible. Maybe you just don’t know how to handle it. It’s okay, he can be the patient and supportive mate you need.
But the coldness and hostility doesn’t stop, the days go by and the passage of time doesn’t make you calm down. You don’t throw your arms around him like he wants you to, don’t say those three words he longs to hear fall from your lips said with all the love and trust that you have in your little tawtute body. 
Instead, there’s almost anger, a sudden indifference that he can’t seem to place. Had he done something wrong? He doesn’t think so. So, he tries to do the best he can, be the best mate he can be for you during your obvious time of struggle. He’s always there for you, will always be there for you, providing support and bringing you fresh meat, dicing up your favorite fruits and making you pretty jewelry that he knows will look so beautiful on you if you ever just wear it. 
You don’t. You toss the jewelry to the side like it's nothing, you let the food rot exactly where he’s left it.  
You’re not a Na’vi, you don’t understand the implication of your crassness towards his gifts. You don’t see how your refusals break his heart. It’s okay - you’ll learn. Humans are . . . unusual creatures. It will just take a bit more time for you to warm up to the ways of The People.
But his optimism stings with each slight, each indifference you show towards him. Great Mother, you’re so mean to him. Always trying to run from him when he grabs at you, ripping your hand away from his whenever he tries to hold it. You’ve been hiding from him, your trips into the village getting less and less frequent and you don’t let him in when he tries to come to the lab to visit you. 
“You don’t even like being here,” You say when he tries. And you’re right. The stuffiness of the lab makes him tense, and it feels like he can sometimes feel the energy from the machines pressing up against his body. But when he’s with you he doesn’t care. You’re the only thing that matters to him, and when he’s with you, it’s like everything else just falls away. 
The sting from your smack is still on his hand, but he shakes it off as he reaches out to caress your arm instead. “Ma yawne, are you hungry? You should come to my hut. I’ll cook you a fi–”
“No,” You interrupt, shrugging him off of your arm. “I’m not hungry.”
“Oh,” He breathes, disappointment burrowing in his chest but he tries not to let it show even as his fingers reach out to graze against your wrist. “Well then maybe we can go on a walk? There’s a lake not too far from here that I’ve been wanting to show you. It’s beautiful.” Beautiful like you. “I know you’ll love it.”
“No, Neteyam,” You say again, pulling your wrist from his wandering fingers and crossing your arms across your chest. “I’m busy.”
“What are you doing? Maybe I could–”
“No,”
The clipped word rings in his ears. No, no, no, always no. He’s your mate, you shouldn’t have to tell him no. Where you go, he goes. Where he goes, you go. Together. Simple as that. And yet it’s still always no, no, no. You’re turning away from him without another word, walking away with strides he thinks are way too quick for a human, and he can’t help but wonder where you’re heading to in such a rush. 
“Okay,” He calls out, desperate for the conversation not to be over but knowing it will just upset you if he follows you. “I’ll come see you later, tìyawn. I swear it!”
You don’t even look back.
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He hasn’t seen you in nearly a week and his patience is running thin. 
Your absence is killing him. 
Where are you? Why won’t you see him? He knows you have to be suffering too without him. Mated pairs aren’t meant to be without each other for so long and he feels like he’s been apart from you for an eternity. 
You stopped coming to the village. He’s been looking, desperately hoping that he’ll see you among the multitude of faces he sees every day. He wants to hear your voice so badly, wants to pull you into his arms and hold you there, safe and loved, while the warmth of your skin soaks into his. 
He wants to push you down again, cover you with his body as he presses you into his sleeping mat - your sleeping mat. Both of yours, together, the way it should be as he plows into your swollen cunt. His hut should be covered in your scent by now, not an inch of it left without your mark on it. 
It’s not, and his understanding for your trouble adjusting to the bond is quickly dissipating. 
He’s tried to come see you at the lab multiple times. A lot. Every day. The lab guys turn him away.
She’s busy. She’s sleeping. She’s too tired. She’s not feeling too well. 
If you're not feeling well, he should be in there to heal you. Give you comfort when you're at your weakest and motivation to get better. So he can keep an eye on you and make sure you’re safe. If you’re tired, let him in so he can wrap his arms around you. His chest is sure to be a better pillow for you than any other one you would be laying on. He would be warm, chest moving with just the perfect amount of rise and fall to lull you into a restful sleep. Your beauty sleep - not that you need it. And if you’re busy . . . what’s the harm in him just being around you? He won’t bother you, but any time just existing in the same space as you is like a dream come true. 
He tries to be nice, tries to be a good person - these are his father’s friends, allies of the Omatikaya - and he’s never been one to act impulsively. But they are keeping you from him. You are his. His mate. 
By the looks on their faces, they know how lucky they are that they got away with only some vicious snarls and a pushed over lab desk. Keeping away someone’s mate should be punishable by death.
At least, that’s how Neteyam feels right about now.
He doesn’t like being angry, hates the disgusting feeling that he feels clawing relentlessly at his chest. But he’s frustrated and heartbroken at your self inflicted absence and the warriors he’s training are his unfortunate victims. He pushes them hard, way harder than he probably should. Two of them have already had to go see the Tsahìk for their injuries and most of them look just about ready to drop from exertion. The anger he lets out on them doesn’t seem to quell any of the feelings still boiling inside him.
But then he sees you and it’s like time stops. The anger and frustration flee his body in a rush of relief. You’re here. 
You’re hiding behind a tree just along the edge of the clearing. Why are you hiding? Maybe you’re trying to surprise him, stay out of sight until he’s done training so as to not distract him with your beauty. You would have. You’ve told him plenty of times that he has a staring problem. But he can’t help it. You’re just so breathtaking that he can’t help but want to stare at you all the time. You’re what he imagines Eywa incarnate to look like - a beauty so alluring and otherworldly that he just can’t bear to tear his eyes away. 
The training session is just about done. He releases a majority of the warriors for the day and there’s only a few stragglers that need a few minutes of one-on-one training before he can send them on their way too. He doesn’t even know what he’s saying to them, letting muscle memory and repetition help him drag these last few minutes along as quickly as possible before he’s able to run over to you. He’s already decided that he’s going to take you out tonight. A date night, just like his father and mother have. It’s a time where you both can get away from the hustle and bustle of village and lab life and just be with each other. You clearly need it and he’s so desperate to spend time with you that he’s just about ready to kidnap you from your duties just so he can get a moment of peace just to stare at your gorgeous, unmasked face more. 
Maybe do some other stuff too. Hopefully. 
His heart hasn’t been the only needy thing of his without you. 
The last warrior he’s with is really pushing his luck. How hard is it to switch a knife from a bladed upward position to a downward facing position with just one hand? It’s a simple wrist movement to perfect a move that might save your life one day and this skxawng keeps. dropping. the. knife. Neteyam’s seemingly endless patience is gone. He dismisses the warrior, words much too harsh to be considered professional but he doesn’t care. His mate is waiting for him and he doesn’t want to waste any more time. 
He turns back to head to where you are, a giddy smile pulling at his lips, mood immediately flipping at the thought of finally seeing you, talking to you, holding you. 
Except when he does it’s like he’s being doused with freezing water. 
Another one of his warrior trainees, Oäpon, is standing in front of you and Neteyam can see how he’s purposefully bulging his muscles a little more to make them seem bigger - an action male Na’vi do when trying to attract a mate. Neteyam wants to rip those muscles out of his worthless body. He should be disgusted with himself with how fast his hand twitches towards the knife on his hip, ready to give no thoughts and just act on his emotions. He’s not impulsive, he’s not. But for once in his life he feels like he might actually kill one of his own clan members. 
Would the Great Mother desert him if he did?
But you catch his attention again, the movement of your small step closer to the other man dragging his furious gaze back to you. Your gorgeous eyes aren’t on Neteyam like they should be, but instead on Oäpon in return. You’re smiling at him, grinning so wide that surely it's fake because you’ve never smiled at him like that before. Oäpon lifts his hand and there’s a deep purple flower between his fingers. The flower finds its way behind your ear and all Neteyam sees is red. 
He’s across the clearing in a second, roaring snarls ripping from his chest as he tears the flower from behind your ear. He can hear Oäpon start to talk, to question what the fuck he’s doing, but the other man’s words are cut off with a pained gasp as he’s kicked to the ground and then he’s shock silent, fear written all over his face as he stares in horror at his kuru and the knife held in Neteyam’s inescapable grip. 
“Don’t! Please, don’t,” Oäpon begs, voice shaking as he struggles to force the words out. “Great Mother, help! Please, don’t!”
“Neteyam, stop!” You yell, tiny fists beating at Netayam’s back, but he barely even feels them. 
“She is mine!” Neteyam growls. “Mine. My mate. You do not touch her!”
“I didn’t know,” Oäpon whimpers. “I didn’t know. Please! I swear!”
He wants to do it, wants to slice through the braid so badly. He doesn’t deserve to have it. Kurus are sacred, the ability to connect to Eywa and her creatures is sacred. Attempting to defile the bond between a mated pair is nearly unheard of. Your screams for him to stop are just making the desire worse. You’re protecting him?! Protecting the thing that was trying to . . . no. No, no, no. He deserves to have it cut off, deserves to die.
Oäpon should kiss his feet in thanks for the mercy Neteyam shows by releasing him. 
“I don’t ever want to see you near her again,” Neteyam shouts. Oäpon doesn’t respond, too busy scrambling away and darting across the clearing, but Neteyam knows he’s heard him. 
“You’re a monster!” You scream, another fist coming down to hit at his back. “How could you do that to him?”
Your hits don’t stop and even through his rage he’s trying to be gentle with you. He catches your flying fists in one of his hands, holding them tight as he crouches in front of you trying to get on your level.
“Ma yawne, did he hurt you?” 
Your eyes are wide as you stare at him in disbelief. “Did he hurt me? Are you kidding me?"
Neteyam’s brows furrow. “What do you mean?”
“You fucking–” You screech, Neteyam’s ears pinning against his skull from the high pitched, angry sound. “You–you–I–ARGH!”
You're so frustrated, so upset you can’t even speak properly. Maybe you are hurt - Neteyam’s eyes scan your body for injury, eyes lingering on the area around your ear where the flower had been. The flower now lays forgotten at your feet, crushed and ruined from his angry grip, and Neteyam can’t find any source of injury that might be causing your upset.
“You don’t have to worry,” Neteyam says, cupping your cheek with his free hand. “He won’t bother you anymore, I swear it.”
You jerk away from his touch. “What is wrong with you?”
“I don’t understand what you mean. Nothing is wrong?”
“No,” You shake your head, wrists still trying to twist out of his grip. “No, there’s something wrong with you. Something is seriously wrong with you,”
“You are upset, tìyawn. Tell me what I can–”
“Don’t call me that!” You scream, nose scrunching with the effort. “Stop calling me that!”
“Oh,” Neteyam’s swishing tail droops in disappointment. “I’m sorry, y/n. I didn’t know you didn’t like the name. I only meant to use it to show my love for you as my mate but I can–”
“We aren’t mates, Neteyam!” The words stab like a knife through his heart and his hand loosens around your wrists in shock enough for you to pull them out of his grasp. “We fucked once. A hookup, Neteyam. Sex, that’s it.”
“No,” He whispers. 
Why are you saying this? How could you say this? He was there! He remembers that night more clearly than any other day of his life. You love him. He feels it, feels it with every fiber of his being. You let him into your body, wrapped him tight inside you like a promise that you would never let him go - like he would never have to be alone ever again. You caressed his bullet scar, and he remembers the feel of your gentle fingers silently mourning for it and for all he’s had to suffer. He remembers thinking that being there with you in that moment was worth every other hardship he has to endure. He can take on anything with you at his side. 
“No,” He says again, disbelief coloring his tone. “How can you say that? We are mates! You’re mine!”
“No, we aren’t,”
“We are! I love you, y/n! Oel ngati kam–”
“We are not mated, Neteyam! We fucked. Mindless, hot, means-to-an-end-to-get-off sex. That’s it! Get that through your thick skull,”
He’s watching you as if in slow motion. You turn, stomping away from him as you start to head back into the forest and his brain feels like it’s going a million miles an hour. You’re mates. You are. You have to be - there’s no other way to explain the way he feels about you. The love and utter devotion he has for you. The need to be near you always - looking in your eyes, touching your skin, hearing your voice and the way you’ve always sounded so sweet saying his name. Eywa has blessed your union and he doesn't understand why you don’t feel the same way. Can’t you feel the same inescapable pull that he does? How your soul is tied to his in a way that surpasses even that of tsaheylu?
He reaches out to grab you before you get too far, fingers wrapping around your upper arm. Your own arm flies out around you and the sharp sound echoes through the forest and his sensitive ears before the pain registers on his cheek. 
He’s never seen your eyes so wide before, crazed and panicked as you stare back into his equally shocked amber ones. Your hand is shaking, still raised in the follow through of the slap. The force of your smack is still heating up his cheek, and if he can feel it as much as he is now, he’s sure your hand is probably tingling. 
Any other time he would check you for injuries. You’re so much more fragile than him - you could really hurt yourself if you’re not careful. But you just hit him. Your mate. The man that loves you more than anything. He’s frozen, body cold and not knowing how to react. 
Don’t call me that.
Anger floods through him again. This was Oäpon’s fault. He tricked you, seduced you somehow - out from right under Neteyam’s nose. He should have killed him. 
We are not mated.
You rip your arm out of his grip, wide eyes locked on him as he straightens his body, unfurling out of his crouched position as he rises to his full height. The shadow his body creates over you sends something primal through him. The darkened image of him completely overtaking your tiny figure makes him hungry. Possessive. 
Just sex, Neteyam. That’s it.
He won’t let that worthless skxawng corrupt you anymore. You’re the love of his life, his tanhì. You’re just confused. You’re not thinking clearly. 
You don’t mean it. 
He feels like if he concentrates hard enough, he can hear the sound of your heart racing. Or maybe it's his own, the frantic thump thump thump thump thump of his heart pumping rushing blood into his ears and making him feel like there’s static in his brain. 
When you turn to run, he’s not even shocked. His pupils dilate until there’s barely any color left, predatory gaze marked onto your back as you sprint into the dense Pandoran forest. Everything is so clear to him now. You’re testing him, wanting to see how loyal he is and how far he’ll go to keep you. You’re a beautiful woman, of course you’d have options. But you chose him for a reason, and now you want him to chase you - to prove himself a strong and worthy mate.
You want to play hard to get? Fine. He’ll play. 
He’s a natural hunter, an apex predator - and you, tiny human, have just become his prey. 
It might be fun to hunt you again - sometime in the future when this is all behind you. He’d be sure to make it as fair for you as possible: give you a head start, maybe allow you to rub some mud on your skin to hide your scent just to drag out the game a little longer, give you ample time and resources to find a good hiding spot where you can sit and try to listen with your not that great human hearing for any sign that he’s creeping up on your position. He’d wrap his arms around your waist when he inevitably finds you, smug grin tugging at his lips when your giggled shrieks pierce his eardrums as he pulls you from your oh so clever hiding spot. And then, he’d claim his prize, tearing your clothes from your body right there wherever he found you and fucking you until your giggly shrieking turns into blissful moaning. 
This isn’t fun. It’s not a game. And your headstart is dwindling rapidly. You’re racing through the forest, running as fast as your feet will carry you. He can hear your heavy breaths, the sound of the ground crunching under your clumsy feet. He can smell you, the scent you’re leaving behind in your rush is a direct trail back to you for him to follow. 
He doesn’t need it. He never lost sight of you. 
One of his strides equal close to four of yours, and he covers ground quickly as he closes in on you. He catches you only a little further into the forest than where the chase started and you scream as he tackles you to the ground, the force of his momentum completely knocking you both off your feet. He doesn’t let you touch the ground on the fall, twisting his body enough to take the brunt of the impact. The action still leaves you breathless, dazed for a moment before seeming to come back to yourself and struggling to get off from on top of him.
His hold around your waist is secure and he uses the anchor he has around your waist to throw you on to the ground beside him before climbing on top of you and pinning both of your hands above your head with one of his. 
“Get off me!” You scream, body struggling underneath him, hands pulling in his unrelenting grip as you try to get free, but you can barely move under his weight. “Get off me, Neteyam! Get off, get off, get o–”
His free hand latches around your throat, your words dying on your tongue as his fingers dig into the sides of your neck. 
“Quiet!” He hisses, baring his fangs. “Be quiet!”
The aggressive display makes a small whimper rip from your throat and he can feel the vibrations tickle under his palm. You’re not quiet though, you never stay quiet - ever the talker that you are. You’d talk his ear off if you could. The only time you’ve ever stayed quiet is when you avoided him, and he refuses to let that happen again. 
“Neteyam, please,” You whisper, eyes glistening with unshed tears. “You’re scaring me. Let’s just relax and talk about thi–”
“Shut up! Just shut up!” He growls. “You’ve said enough already, don’t you think?”
He releases your hands, grip on your throat loosening and moving down slightly until it's just a singular hand pressed against your chest to keep you pinned. Your hands immediately latch onto the large hand, one of your own clutching the back while the other curls around one of his long fingers. He feels how you pull at it, trying to get it off of you - and he knows how much harder you could be trying right now if you wanted to. 
He lowers his face to yours, inches away so that his breath fans across your skin as he speaks. “You like to talk, but you don’t like words. You’ve made that clear. My words mean nothing to you.” He can feel how your quick breathing puffs against his face too, the warm air caressing his cheeks. “You need actions - a visual representation of my devotion to you. I see that now.”
In a flash, his hands are balling into her t-shirt, pulling roughly in either direction and the thin material gives easily under the pressure. You gasp as he rips your shirt down the middle, the torn fabric falling on either side of your body as he does the same with your bra with a quick snap of his wrist. 
“What are you doing?!” You shout, but you can’t fool him now. He’s grown tired of your games and your body can’t lie to him. 
“Don’t worry, yawne. I’ll give you what you need,”
The sound of ripping material echoes through the otherwise peaceful forest. Your shorts require just a bit more force to tear, but it’s barely a percentage of his full strength so the fabric comes apart at the seams easily leaving the ruined bottoms still around your waist and thighs, but a large opening right at your center. A rumble of satisfaction builds in his chest when he smells you, the first scent of your arousal permeating the air around you. You gasp when he rips your panties too, leaving nothing left of the light blue material but the thin elastic around your limbs and hips. 
His mouth waters at the sight of your pretty pussy, bare and tempting and already getting so wet for him. 
“Fuck,” You whimper, arms splayed out beside you, fingers gripping into the moss covered ground. 
“You like it when I’m rough, huh?” Neteyam teases. “When I’m demanding and just take what I want from you?”
You shake your head, trying to deny it, but the way he can see your pussy’s responding clench is damning to your denial. 
“I remember now,” Neteyam’s hand slides down your thigh and caresses your calf, long fingers wrapping around your leg as he presses a nipping kiss to your ankle just above your sock. “You loved how I shoved you down on the ground that night. It made you gush in your pretty little tewng, didn’t it?”
“S-shut up,”
“Hm, my muntxate likes being handled roughly, doesn’t she?”
Your response is a shocked squeal when he snatches your hips, hauling you up off the forest floor, the quick snapping of moss ripping from the ground as you’re abruptly pulled upwards. Your entire world is turned upside down as Neteyam dangles you like prey in front of him. He throws your legs over his shoulders and wraps a secure arm around your stomach to hold your lower back to his chest. The other hand holds onto your thigh to make sure to keep you spread before him as if you had any chance to wiggle away. 
A choked sob rips from your throat as your hands reach for the ground, blood rushing to your head as your fingers stretch as far as they can trying to get leverage and hold yourself up. Your fingertips only just barely graze the soft green. 
Neteyam groans as he enjoys the sight right in front of his face. You’re spread open for him, pussy perfectly framed by the destroyed fabric - dripping and glistening in want against the dimming sunlight despite yourself. He can see how you subconsciously contract and clench it, hole practically begging him to fill it with his tongue. He wants to bury his face in it, suffocate on your smell and taste until it’s all he can think about. 
So he does. 
He digs his face between your legs, tongue lapping at your folds like a man starved. He is. He didn’t get to do this your first time. It was too fast, too desperate. He couldn’t control himself with you. Everything about you calls to him like a siren, luring him in with your beauty and light. You dragged him down on top of you that night. You were already open, you told him - had fucked yourself with that fake cock he had found hidden in your drawers during an impromptu hangout in your bedroom at the lab. You still felt suffocatingly tight when he pushed in, but he had been grateful that he didn’t have to wait.
He had waited so long for the chance to be inside you that he felt like if he had waited another second without you he would have exploded. 
Your back arches as he licks up your slit, moaning loudly as his textured tongue slides across your clit. 
“Oh my god,” You gasp out, hands forgoing reaching for the ground and finding purchase on his thighs instead. “Neteyam, f-fuck,”
He hums in response, his tongue targeting the sensitive bundle of nerves, sliding and flicking relentlessly against the small bud as your moans and gasps get louder and louder. Your sounds are driving him crazy, the taste of you on his tongue setting every one of his nerves on fire. His cock is already hard, already working its way past his wet slit and tenting in his tewng. You taste so good, so perfect for him. He wonders what it feels like for you, how good it must feel for you to be writhing in his grip now, so vocal for him in your pleasure that your voice is already starting to sound a bit raspy from use. He bets his tongue feels better than any other man you’ve ever tried, the texture of it foreign and unique and unlike anything else you’ve ever had before. 
It will be the same way for him too, he’s sure. He’s dreamed about it, fantasized and jerked off to the thought of your tongue, soft and silky, running up and down his cock. You’d torture him with it, be teasing and delicate in your licks, alternating between those featherlight, barely there teases against his lavender tip and firmer strokes down the base of his cock. 
Your nails are digging into the meat of his thighs as he wraps his lips around your clit, panting breaths telling him yes, right there, Teyam, fuck, fuck, yes as your hips try to hump against his face. You’re right there, right on the edge, ready to fall over it with just a little bit more.
But he stops, reveling in your frustrated groan as he pulls his mouth away from your soaked core. His intense golden eyes meet yours when your head forces its way up, raspy voice whining a desperate ‘why’ as you feel your orgasm slipping away from you. 
“Tell me you’re mine,” He demands. He needs to hear you say it. 
“Teyam…” 
He can’t bear to hear you deny him again. Can’t handle hearing you say the words that make him feel like his heart has been dunked in acid.
His lips latch onto your clit again, sucking harshly at the tiny bud and your words cut off with a gasp. He works you back up, your head falling back as he nips at your clit with his sharp teeth before licking down your slit to circle your entrance. You’re so tight, so so so tight around his tongue as he pushes it in. You clench around the wet muscle and then somehow clench even tighter when the hand gripping your thigh reaches over to rub firm circles on your clit.
“Teyam, oh god, Neteyam, please!” You beg, thighs squeezing his head as they try to force themselves closed. “I’m gonna cum. Please,”
You wail as he pulls his mouth away again, your hole clenching around nothing as your orgasm dissipates again. 
“Say it,” He feels your whole body shiver as his words breathe hot air on your sensitive cunt. “You’re mine. Say it, y/n,”
You sob, frustration evident in every sound and twitch your body makes. You’re trying to lift your head again, looking up at him from your spot dangling below him like a puppet, and he wonders if all the blood rushing to your head from being upside down for so long is getting to you. 
“Say it,” He repeats and then digs back in, the flat of his tongue roughly swiping over your clit before latching onto it again.
Your legs kick as he works you up again, overstimulated pussy throbbing as he plays you like an instrument he’s known for years. His cock is throbbing too, desperate to be released from the confines of his tewng and shown some attention. He wants so badly to push inside your soaking hole and feel how it’ll grip his cock within its slick walls. 
“Neteyam, please!” You cry, and he knows you’re so close, right there again as he hurdles you back towards that just out of reach edge. He doesn’t stop the suction of his mouth. You’ll say it, he knows you will. You’ll say it because if you don’t, you won’t get to cum. He’ll keep you here, upside down in his unrelenting hold until you pass out from exhaustion before he’s going to let you go without saying it. 
You’re a stubborn brat. He can see as he looks down your hanging body that you’re biting your lip. You want to say it - you’re just being stubborn. He sucks harder on the swollen bud, free hand smacking your hip and your asscheek just hard enough to make you cry and gush further on his tongue, the remaining remnants of your clothes doing very little to muffle the sting. 
“Okay!” You yell. “Okay, okay, Neteyam! I’ll say it! I’m yours! Please, please let me cum!”
The words make Neteyam’s chest tighten. Finally. Finally, you’ve admitted it, and the excitement from the admission urges him to lick you faster. He’s sloppy and greedy as he eats you out, overeager and face wet to the point of dripping as he devours you for all you have. You cum on his tongue with a choked scream, hands reaching up to grab desperately at his arm encircling your waist, nails digging into the cerulean flesh as your back arches and your thighs clench tightly around his head. 
He swallows everything you offer him, lapping up your juices like his favorite most treasured treat, before placing a protective hand on your back to steady you as he lowers you back down to safety.
“Mawey, yawne,” Neteyam coos, gently brushing away a few rogue pieces of moss stuck to your sweaty forehead. You’re still panting, exhaustion creeping over you as your eyes glaze over and threaten to close. The oxygen tube had unhooked from around your ear at some point during your experience upside down. Neteyam guides it back around your ear with careful fingers. “You’ve been such a good girl for me. Keep being a good girl while I fuck you, yes?”
Your eyes widen at the mention of fucking, shaking your head slightly even as the full bodied shivers of the orgasm’s aftershocks continue to wrack your body. “N-no, Teyam. C-can’t take i-it.”
Neteyam smiles, leaning forward to press a sweet kiss against your lips. The feel of your lips on his is almost enough to make him cum. He’s so worked up already, so high off the taste of your cunt on his tongue that all it takes is the loving press of your lips on his and he’s a second away from exploding in his tewng and ruining the fun. 
“Yes, you can,” He says against your lips, his sharp teeth digging into your plush bottom lip just to hear you whine. 
Last time he fucked you, he took you from the front. It was love making, a bonding of two souls coming together as one - a spiritual experience filled with panting breaths, eye contact, and the passionate coupling that comes with mating with the one your heart belongs to. 
You don’t deserve that right now, not with the way you’ve hurt him - made him work for the love that should have been given freely. The things you said can’t just be forgotten. You need him to prove his worthiness to you? Prove his loyalty? Then fine, he’ll do that by giving you exactly what you deserve.
You yelp when he flips you over on your stomach, large hands grabbing your hips and hauling them up so your ass is in the air and on display for him. The remaining fabric of your shorts still cover nearly half of your ass, but the little coverage does nothing to diminish the amazing view. You try to push yourself up with your arms, but Neteyam is quick to shove you back down with a hand on the back of your neck. 
“No, no, tìyawn,” He says, running a large hand over your exposed ass, his fingers teasing along the creamy slit of your pussy. “You said you’re mine, so let me see what’s mine.”
His teasing fingers find your hole and his teeth dig into his lower lip when he sees your thigh start trembling as he circles your entrance with the pad of his finger. You like it rough, he has to remind himself. You’re a human, so delicate compared to him that he naturally wants to be gentle with you. But that got him nowhere, it got him ignored. You respond to roughness, passion, him taking charge - so he doesn’t give you any warning before he’s plunging two long fingers inside you all the way to the knuckle.
You scream, slick walls squeezing around his fingers, your own hands once again ripping at the moss below you. The scream is agonized, oversensitive and pained from your earlier edging and orgasm. Your thighs are shaking, desperate sobs erupting from your throat. But the way you’re pushing back against him, rocking back against his invading fingers trying to get them deeper inside you tell him everything he needs to know. 
“Look at you,” He coos. His fingers start up a steady rhythm, thrusting inside you with purpose as he stretches you open. “Such a little whore for me, aren’t you?”
Your moans are muffled against the ground, cheek pressed firmly against the moss from his hand pinning you down by his neck. You ignore his question, too lost in trying to push back against his hand and make him fuck you faster - so he rips his fingers from your gripping cunt, drops of your wetness flying from the force of his retreat, and his large hand lands harshly on your backside. 
You howl at the smack, the sound of the slap against direct skin this time cracks through the forest like a gunshot. 
“I asked if you’re my whore,” Neteyam repeats. It’s not as romantic as ‘I’m yours’, but still just as important. 
“Yes, Teyam,” You whine. “I’m your whore.”
“Just for me, right? Only my whore,” Silence again, but your hips are still wiggling and searching for his fingers, so he rewards your silence with another sharp smack. “Say it, yawne,”
“Fuck!” You cry, ass feeling like it's on fire even as more of your slick drips down your thighs. “Yes, yes! Only for you, Teyam. Only for you,”
“Good girl,” Neteyam purrs, and you’re rewarded this time with his fingers sliding back inside your aching pussy. 
He stretches you out on those two fingers, alternating between scissoring them inside you and curling them to rub at that special spongy spot that makes you squeal and see stars. He contemplates adding a third, but decides that he wants to finish stretching you out on his cock instead. 
This time when you cum, it's less of a scream and more of a deep guttural groan that comes from deep inside you. It’s wetter than he expects it to be when you squeeze around his fingers, and the sight of your slick dripping from your mound onto the forest floor beneath you makes him feel absolutely feral. 
He lets go of the back of your neck and pulls his fingers from your abused cunt. The wet fingers work frantically at the knots on his tewng and he feels like he can’t get the fucking thing off fast enough. When the knots come undone and the tan material flutters to the ground, he breathes a sigh of relief, thick needy cock springing from its confines to slap against his belly. 
When he focuses back on you, your exhausted body is already trying to curl in a ball, eyes threatening to close as sleep calls to you. No, Neteyam thinks. He’s not done with you yet.
He flips you back on your stomach, pulling your hips back up high so they’re flush with his. You both groan as he rubs his hard cock between your folds, the tip nudging at your swollen clit. Fuck, you feel so good, pussy feeling like silk against his aching length. His eyes are locked onto where he’s lining his head with your entrance, watching in awe as he nudges himself forward, your greedy hole welcoming him in like you’ve been doing this forever. He can’t control his sounds, grunts and moans of pleasure echoing loudly through the trees as he sinks himself inside your slick walls. You’re so tight, even with the amount he’s stretched you out already you’re still so tight. But you stretch around him like you were made for him, made to take his cock into your depths - like your insides already know the exact shape of him and welcome him back into their warm embrace.
You whimper as he fills you up, back arching and hands clawing at the ground like you’re both trying to get away from him and closer to him at the same time. 
“I fucked you so good, didn’t I?” He gunts, pulling halfway out of your gripping pussy before slamming back in, relishing in the tortured moan it pulls from you. “That night by the fire. Made you cum so many times, over and over again until you were so cock drunk you couldn’t speak.”
He pulls out again, just a little further this time before thrusting back in. He does it again, and again, the rhythm hard and unforgiving and he pulls your hips closer to his. In the back of his mind he fears that he’s being too mean, too rough, but your gasping hiccups and blissed out sighs contain any worry. This is as much for him as it is for you anyway. He’s allowed to be selfish. 
“You’re always so talkative,” He pants. “Where’s that pretty voice now, huh? You were so talkative that night, just endless pleas of my name falling from your gorgeous lips. Like music to my ears. I wanna hear it again. Please, yawne?”
“Mmh, please,” You whine. “Please, Teyam,”
“Please what?”
“Faster,” You beg. “Fuck me faster,”
Who is he to deny such a sweet and pretty thing?
He leans forward, body curling over yours to cover you completely, one of his hands grabbing yours and linking your fingers together as he presses them both against the ground. His other hand is still on your hip, using it as leverage as he fucks your puffy pussy faster, the tip of his cock barreling against your cervix with each snap of his hips. 
He can feel the knot on the base of his cock swelling, the large ball of tissue nudging at your entrance with each thrust. The instinct driven part of him urges him to push harder against you, to force the knot against your tight hole to see if it will fit. 
He didn’t knot you that night, not wanting to risk hurting you or getting you pregnant so fast with such a new relationship. He came inside you with his fist wrapped tightly around his knot instead. Na’vi bonds are forever. Human bonds . . . now he’s not so sure. He’s not willing to risk it anymore. He’s going to bond with you in every way he knows how. 
When he feels his orgasm creep up his spine, he lets instinct take over. His grip on your hip tightens, thrusts halting as he presses the enlarged ball against your soaked entrance. 
You gasp, whimpering as his knot stretches you more. “Oh god, wait, wait,”
But it's too late. With another determined shove, the knot pops inside you and he has you trapped, locked on his cock until time decides to free you. 
“Neteyam, i-it’s too b-big,” You whine, shock evident in your voice. “Hmh, so full,”
Neteyam plants soothing kisses on the back of your head and neck, the hand on your hip smoothing around your belly to caress the large bulge of the outline of his cock in your stomach. “I know, tìyawn. I know. It’s so much, but you’re doing so well. Just a little more for me, okay?”
He can’t thrust now, can't even so much as pull out an inch now that he’s locked inside you. So, he makes you do the work. He keeps one hand on the bulge in your tummy, the other hand coming down to rub relentlessly at your throbbing clit. The stimulation makes you keen, pussy clenching and tightening around him and working his aching length with your wet walls. 
His fingers on your clit are your undoing. He barely hears any noise from you as your orgasm hits, but this time he’s able to see the side of your face as you come undone. Your eyes roll back into your head, mouth opening in a silent scream, but it's like all the breath has been stolen from your lungs. Your body tenses, muscles shaking through the overwhelming pleasure, and he feels as much as he hears how you gush and squirt all over his teasing digits and the ground below you. 
He moans at the sight, the feel of your pussy clenching around his length and the wetness from your orgasm on his fingers and cock makes him tip over the edge. His orgasm crashes through him, tearing him apart as he spills himself inside you. His cum paints your walls, and his knot makes sure to keep every single drop of it inside you. 
Neteyam collapses next to you, shaking as the aftershocks roll through him, and pulls your limp body safely against his. It will be at least an hour before the knot’s swelling goes down enough before he’s able to slip out. You let out a moan of pain as the knot pulls at your entrance as he adjusts you, but he sushes you.
“Relax, ma yawne. I’ll take care of you.” He coos. “Oel ngati kameie,”
You don’t say it back. You don’t even hear him, already dead to the world as your exhaustion finally catches up with you. 
It’s okay. He knows in his heart that one day soon, you’ll say it back.
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