𝑀𝑜𝒸𝒽𝒶 𝐵𝓊𝓃𝓃𝓎

the first time you fucked, it shocked you a little. not because you thought he’d be bad—please, you knew he wouldn’t be—but because of how good he was. how nasty he was about it. how his mouth was naturally filthy in ways you didn’t expect.

you remember the way he held your jaw, dark eyes flickering between your lips and your eyes before he licked into your mouth like he had something to prove. the way he sucked on your tongue, let out this deep groan when your fingers threaded through his hair. how he was already pressing you down into the bed like he couldn’t get close enough.

and then he went down on you, and it was over after that.

because olise eats pussy like it’s his actual job. like there’s a contract involved and he’ll get punished if he doesn’t do it properly. it’s insane. you didn’t even know guys liked it that much until him. his mouth is hot, greedy, relentless. he’ll go down on you just to go down on you. not because he wants you to return the favour, not even because you asked—he just wants to. you could be laid out next to him watching a show, and if he gets in the mood, he’s tugging your shorts down, slotting himself between your thighs, and licking at your clit slow like he has all the time in the world.

he moans while he does it too. shamelessly. like he’s the one getting something out of it. like he enjoys it just as much as you. probably more.

and don’t even get me started on how he looks up at you while he does it. deep, brown eyes, big hands gripping your thighs to keep you from moving. and when you get loud, when your back arches and your hand tightens in his hair? he’ll just groan into you, slap a palm down on your stomach and hold you in place while he sucks on your clit like he wants to ruin you.

sometimes he talks. sometimes he doesn’t. but you can always feel him. feel the way his mouth works you open, feel how much he loves it, feel his breath fan against your skin when he pulls away just to drag his lips along your inner thighs, teeth grazing you before he’s diving back in.

and he doesn’t stop. even when your thighs shake. even when you try to push him away. even when you cum so hard you’re gasping his name. he eats pussy like it’s his favourite thing in the world. and it probably is.

olise likes control. not in a way that feels overwhelming, but in a way that makes you feel owned. he likes to be the one setting the pace, the one making you lose your mind, the one telling you what to do. he likes when you listen. loves it even more when you don’t. either way, you’re gonna get fucked how he wants.

he’s a body-worshipper too. he likes all of you. every inch. he loves your ass—grips it, smacks it, spreads it apart while he fucks into you deep and slow. loves your tits, too. likes to have a hand around your throat and the other tugging at your nipples, watching your face contort as he buries himself in you.

olise likes to be messy with it, too. he spits in your mouth like it’s second nature. if you let him, he’ll slap his dick against your tongue before easing it past your lips, watching as you take him down slow, groaning when you choke around him. and when you pull off, gasping, saliva glistening on your lips? he kisses you deep, sucks on your tongue because he absolutely does not mind that you just went down on him, the mess just makes it better.

but when he’s soft? that’s when it’s different.

because yeah, he’s nasty. but he’s also sweet. and when he wants to, he takes his time. whispers soft things in your ear. slows it down and makes love to you so good you feel like you could cry. and it’s not like he doesn’t talk dirty then too—he does, always—but there’s a softness to it. an affection that makes your chest ache.

“love the way you take it, baby,” he’ll murmur against your lips, eyes dark but fond.

or, “feels like you were made just for me.”

and he means it. you know he does. because olise isn’t just nasty in bed—he’s intense. he wants to make you feel good. he wants you to know it’s him making you feel like this.

and when it’s all over? he still can’t get enough of you. he still kisses you, presses his lips to your forehead, your jaw, your chest. his hands still hold you tight, fingers smoothing over your skin like he needs to keep touching you.

he’s just like that.

and you absolutely love it.

jude starts by crawling up your body from the side, his mouth finding the sensitive spot just below your ear. he kisses there slow and wet, lips plush and lingering, then trails down your neck with soft sucks that make your breath hitch.

“been thinking about this all day,” he murmurs against your skin, voice low and velvet.

one of his hands cups your breast, thumb brushing over your nipple in lazy circles until it pebbles under his touch. he leans in and kisses you properly then, deep and unhurried, tongue sliding against yours while his fingers keep playing with your tits, pinching just hard enough to send little sparks straight to your core.

at the same time, erling settles between your spread thighs, his massive shoulders pushing your legs wider. he’s so tall that even on his stomach he takes up so much space, breath hot against your inner thigh as he kisses and nips the soft skin there.

“so pretty for us,” he rumbles, the vibration traveling right through you. his big hands slide under your ass, lifting you slightly like you weigh nothing, and then his mouth is on you.

he starts with broad, slow licks up your entire pussy, tongue flat and warm, tasting every drop of wetness that’s already leaking out of you. he takes his time, exploring every fold, circling your clit with the tip of his tongue before sucking it gently between his lips. two thick fingers tease at your entrance, rubbing circles there before sliding in inch by inch, stretching you open while his mouth keeps working. he curls them just right, stroking that spot inside you that makes your hips jerk.

jude doesn’t stop kissing you through it. he moves from your mouth to your jaw, down your throat, across your collarbones, then latches onto one nipple, sucking hard while his hand kneads the other breast. the contrast is dizzying — jude’s sensual attention on your upper body while erling devours your pussy like he’s starving. your hands thread into erling’s long strands as your back arches off the bed.

“fuck, you taste so good,” erling groans between long licks, adding a third finger and pumping them deeper.

jude pulls back just enough to watch your face, eyes dark with hunger. “look at you, princess. falling apart already and we’ve barely started. you gonna cum on erling’s tongue for me?”

your thighs are trembling around erling’s head. he sucks your clit harder, fingers thrusting steady and precise, and jude leans down to kiss you again, swallowing every moan and whimper. your orgasm crashes over you slow at first, then all at once. erling’s fingers curl relentlessly inside your pussy while his tongue flicks firm and fast over your swollen clit.

“oh fuck—erling, right there, please don’t stop,” you gasp against jude’s mouth, your voice breaking into a whine.

jude pulls back just enough to watch your face twist in pleasure, his hand still pinching your nipple as you come hard, thighs clamping around erling’s head, hips grinding desperately against his face. waves of heat roll through you, pussy fluttering and soaking his fingers and chin.

“good girl,” erling praises, licking you through every aftershock, slow and gentle until you’re twitching and oversensitive. he finally pulls back, lips shiny, and kisses the inside of your thigh. “taste so fucking sweet when you come for us, princess.”

they give you a moment to breathe, hands stroking your skin softly. jude kisses your forehead. “ready for more, baby? want us both inside you?”

“yes,” you breathe, still hazy and needy. “want you both. please.”

they move you with ease. jude lies back against the pillows, cock hard and curving up against his abs, thick and veiny. you straddle him slow, knees sinking into the mattress on either side of his hips. he holds his cock steady for you, guiding the head through your slick folds before you sink down.

the stretch is delicious, inch by inch, your pussy swallowing him until you’re fully seated, clit pressed against his base. “jude… you feel so big like this,” you moan, rolling your hips experimentally, hands braced on his chest.

jude groans, hands gripping your waist. “ride me, princess. nice and slow at first. let us feel you.”

you start moving, lifting and sinking back down in languid rolls, savoring how full he makes you as his cock drags against every sensitive spot inside, and the way he looks up at you — dark eyes, lip caught between his teeth — makes you feel powerful and cherished. behind you, erling kneels close, his enormous frame casting a shadow. one big hand spreads your ass cheeks, and you feel the blunt, heavy head of his cock pressing against your tighter hole.

“breathe for me,” erling murmurs, voice deep. he pushes forward carefully. the head pops in with a slick pop and a burning stretch that makes you whimper loudly. “that’s it… only the tip for now, love. you’re doing so well.”

he rocks shallowly, barely an inch or two, but it’s enough to make you feel impossibly full — jude’s thick cock buried in your pussy while erling’s massive girth stretches your ass.

“oh my fucking god,” you moan, voice shaky as you keep riding jude in that slow rhythm. “so deep… feels so fucking good. don’t stop, please.”

your words turn into little gasps every time erling gives a shallow thrust, his hands holding your hips steady so you don’t take more than you can handle. jude thrusts up gently to meet your movements, hands sliding up to cup your bouncing tits, thumbs rubbing your nipples.

the pace stays slow and sensual for long minutes — wet sounds of your pussy riding jude, the obscene stretch of erling in your ass, your shared moans filling the room. you lean forward a little, kissing jude deeply while erling leans over your back, kissing your shoulder and whispering praise. “our perfect girl. taking us both like you were made for it.”

you come again like that, the dual fullness pushing you over the edge without warning. “i’m coming— fuck, i’m coming!” you cry out, body shaking, pussy clenching tight around jude and ass pulsing around erling’s thick head.

that’s when they shift.

the moment your orgasm peaks, their control snaps. jude’s hands grip your hips harder, thrusting up sharper. erling growls low and starts fucking your ass with slightly deeper, rougher shallow strokes, the burn turning into white-hot pleasure. “that’s our slutty little princess,” erling grunts, voice rougher now. “coming with both holes full. gonna fuck you properly now.”

they don’t give you time to come down. jude sits up a bit, still inside you, and they maneuver you off him carefully but quickly. cum and arousal drip down your thighs as they position you, erling moves you onto all fours in the middle of the bed, then slams back into your pussy from behind in one powerful thrust, making you scream his name. “erling! fuck!”

jude stands at the edge of the bed, tall and commanding, cock right in front of your face. you don’t even need prompting — you open your mouth wide, tongue out, looking up at him with glassy eyes.

he slides in deep, hand in your hair, and starts thrusting while erling pounds you from behind, erling’s hips slapping loud against your ass, cock hitting deep and relentless, one hand reaching around to rub your clit roughly. jude fucks your throat in steady strokes, groaning every time you gag and moan around him. “fuck, listen to her. choking on my dick while you wreck her pussy. our greedy girl.”

you’re drooling, tears pricking your eyes from the intensity, but you love it. “mmph,” you try to speak around jude’s cock, pushing back against erling desperately.

they give it to you, rough and possessive, bodies moving in sync like they’ve done this a hundred times (in which, they probably have at this point). erling’s free hand smacks your ass lightly, the sting blooming hot as jude’s fingers tighten in your hair, controlling the pace as he fucks your face.

jude’s the first to break. his thrusts into your mouth get erratic, hips stuttering as he holds your head steady. “fuck, princess, gonna come,” he groans, voice wrecked.

you moan around him, sucking harder, eyes watering as you look up at him. he spills down your throat with a deep moan, thick and hot, pulsing on your tongue and you swallow every drop, whimpering softly as he keeps shallow thrusts through the sensitivity, his cock twitching with aftershocks.

“so good… you’re so fucking good,” he pants, finally pulling out slow, a string of spit and cum connecting your swollen lips to his tip. he strokes your cheek tenderly even as his body trembles from how sensitive he is, watching you with adoring eyes.

erling doesn’t slow down, instead he pushes your head down firmly into the mattress with one massive hand between your shoulder blades, forcing your ass higher, chest pressed flat against the sheets. the new angle makes him hit even deeper, his thick cock slamming into your soaked pussy with wet, punishing slaps. “take it,” he growls, voice rough. “take everything i give you, baby.”

you cry out into the sheets, voice muffled. “erling—oh god, yes, harder! please, i need it.” the roughness feels incredible after jude finished, your body already buzzing.

he fucks you harder, hips snapping forward with raw power, balls slapping against your clit on every thrust. his free hand slides up your back, then around to your throat. he squeezes lightly, tilting your head slightly so you can still breathe.

the pressure on your throat combined with the brutal pace has you seeing stars. your pussy clenches tight around him, gushing wetter with every stroke.

“i’m gonna come again,” you gasp out, voice hoarse and broken. “erling, please—fuck!” it hits you stronger than the others, louder too. you scream his name into the mattress, body shaking violently, walls spasming around his massive cock as the orgasm rips through you like a wave. your thighs quake, tears slipping down your cheeks from the intensity, every muscle tightening and releasing in pure bliss.

erling fucks you right through it, groaning deep at how your pussy milks him. only when your orgasm starts to fade does he let go of your throat, both hands gripping your hips hard enough to bruise as he chases his own release. “good girl—my perfect princess. gonna fill you up now.” his thrusts turn short and deep, grinding against that spot inside you until he finally buries himself to the hilt and comes with a loud, guttural moan.

thick ropes of cum flood your pussy, hot and endless, spilling out around his cock as he keeps shallow thrusts to push it deeper. he stays inside you for long moments afterward, both of you panting, his big body draped over yours protectively.

jude’s already there, sliding onto the bed beside you, pulling you gently into his arms the second erling eases out. cum drips down your thighs, your whole body limp and glowing. they sandwich you between them, soft kisses on your shoulders, your neck, your forehead.

Some days you have nothing to offer but teeth, growling and nipping, warning the greedy hands of self-proclaimed help. You don't need their help, not theirs, not anyone's. You are the pit bull tucked in the back of the shelter that nobody comes to see on purpose. The breed they already decided against before ever showing up. Nonetheless, your appearance changes their mind; a gorgeous girl with shiny coat, and alluring eyes. They can fix you. They all want to take you home, claim you as theirs, train you, change you. They square you in with no escape, you have no other choice, so you bite. Nobody wants the one that bites, nobody wants the woman that barks. The lady who refuses to be caged, muzzled, less than. You won't be less. You won't. They call you a bitch, and well, you are, but you liked it that way. Fuck them and their entitled hands. You are not an object to be claimed. You do not need a savior. 

You hold a lit cigarettes between your tinted lips, too entranced in reading the words on your screen to notice the tobacco just burning itself up. Ashes fall atop your black pencil skirt, the small tap against your thigh was nowhere near enough to shake you from the bullshit message you received.

1 New email from your dipshit of a boss Madeline:

Hope this email finds you well,

I'm thrilled to announce we have successfully arranged a one on one interview with the widely renowned leftist, socialist, and most importantly, feminist Hasan Piker! Considering you are the best of our journalists, you will be the sole interviewer at our panel next week.

This is a excellent opportunity for not only the firm, but you personally. A chance to promote our causes whilst also building your experience in the process! While I do apologize for the late notice(he is a very busy man), you never disappoint me, so I'll be expecting nothing less than your typical, extraordinary work.

-Cheers xx, Madeline M.

You pulled a heavy drag from whatever was left of your smoke before delegating it to the glass ashtray on your desk. Cheers my ass. You liked your job, you really did, it was the type of place you envisioned working at as a little girl. Women owned, ran, and published. Sometimes it was a tad bit too kumbaya, girl-power for your taste, but the heart is there nonetheless. You were well respected, paid exceptionally, and they didn't even skimp out on benefits like most jobs. You were definitely not above ignoring the romance quiz slop for paid holidays.

Okay, maybe dipshit was a bit too far, she is nice. An undeserving nepo-baby that had enough money fall into her lap at barely 19 to start a company, but nice. It only made you *kind of* furious, most times you didn't think about it at all. On less deprecating side of things she was a young, successful CEO that actually values employees, so you had to look up to her whether you liked it or not.

Interviewing someone as popular as Mr. Piker should be a dream, but truth be told you couldn't stand him. Granted, you didn't like actually know him, but that was unimportant! You seen enough of his obnoxious clips, and even partook in the occasional hate watching. As far as you're concerned he's self centered, community dick that only cares about feminism when it comes to getting said 'female' in bed.

It didn't take a genius to realize you weren't the biggest fan, even griping about him in the breakroom once prior, it felt like Madeline was hell bent on punishing you at times. Unsure about why exactly that may be, but whatever the reason, this sucks! You immediately found yourself conjuring up a slightly passive aggressive sounding response email. The hollow keycaps clicking methodically under your fresh manicure.

Dear Madeline,

Thank you for the opportunity, I appreciate you trusting me to interview someone so important. However, are we sure we want someone so controversial as this months headliner? I'm not sure the mansplaining, brothel traversing, bachelor is really the face of male feminism.

-With love, your favorite journalist

Okay maybe the whole 'your favorite journalist' thing was a stretch, you quickly replace it with your signature, only so much of your *charm* would be tolerated. You hit send, and surprisingly she doesn't take long to reply, a rarity for such a busy woman.

I figured you might say that, and I do understand your concerns, but our social media managers are saying this would be a good choice. He's been highly sought after by our viewer base, and he does have some good ideas. Not saying you have to love the guy, but just produce some good content. He's supportive of sex work, that's an angle we could use. btw it's only 30 minutes, I believe in you, queen!

- Madeline M.

Fine. Thirty minutes in the same proximity wouldn't kill you, although after talking to him for that long you may be wishing it would. You spent the next week learning more than you could've ever wished to, burning into your brain as much information as possible. You wrote out a lengthy bunch of questions, even pointed, follow up questions for when he'd inevitably say something ignorant.

To be fair, not everything that came out of his mouth was insufferable, he actually had a lot of good politics you found yourself agreeing with. It wasn't like you were blind, you could see the appeal, but that didn't change your dead set mentality that he was still a womanizer that only got this far in his career by the grace of being 6'4 and conventionally attractive.

***

The convention center was packed, all kinds of people divvying themselves to their desired section. There were three stages in total, scheduled out through the entire day with many different seminars, or even a few fun things such as comedy shows. Your group of coworkers were lucky enough to be granted all access passes, being allowed to enjoy all the more entertaining booths and whatnot while you awaited showtime. You always got a bit nervous about interviews, not that you showed it. To others you were sharp, precise, intimidating even. Your words never stuttered or jumbled up, voice smooth and sure, even when you felt nothing of the sort.

Before you knew it you were shaking the notorious Hasan Piker's hand in front of a crowd large enough to make your stomach turn. He was dressed in a navy blue suit, an assortment of silver rings and a watch embellishing his hands. His eyes were soft, gentle, unlike his handshake. His grip was firm, respectful, not one of those pitiful, half-assed ones that businessmen so often gave to women like you.

He smiled, waving to the crowd that roared for him before he ever even spoke. Admittedly, it was impressive, the way he had such a dedicated group of people ready to stand behind his every move. He sat in the clear plastic seat, adjacent to yours, microphone adhered to the collar of his freshly dry cleaned button up top, same as yours. "Nice to finally meet you, Mr. Piker".

"It's nice to meet you too, thank you for having me".

"Thank you for coming. It seems all these people are very thankful as well". You forced a smile, mentally replaying the notes in your head. Sure you had some scribbled down on the paper lying in your lap, but you tried to make it a habit of already knowing what to say. You felt less professional having to take a peak, although at the end of the day there was no shame in it, most people weren't owners of a photographic memory.

As time passed your nerves died down, and the interview began to flow more like a conversation than interrogation. He's good, prepared, quick with his answers and all the right ones too.

"Do you ever find streaming impacts your public opinion more negatively than positively? When researching into a person with such an extensive digital footprint such as yourself, you will often come across things that maybe concerning to many".

He nods while you talk, brows furrowed like he's deep in active listening. You liked that. "I think being someone that livestreams for many hours a day is bound to be caught in controversy, but all of the being clipped out of context and pointless witch-hunts are worth it if it means I'm getting through to people. If there are some are willing to stick around long enough to understand what is actually being said, they might just learn some beneficial information along the way. The internet can be an exhausting place, but I like to think I'm doing decently in educating a wide range of people about things that can change the real world".

He didn't seem bothered, or get defensive by your more accusatory questions, he faced them head on in a manner that read as honest. You were getting through your many inquiries fast, which you always preferred. It was quite frustrating getting so invested into the dialogue only for time to be up with an entire untouched sheet leftover.

"And do you personally find male feminism important?"

"Of course, I think it's important to stand for all equality movements. Especially for myself as a straight, white-passing, cis man. When you see those benefitting from the thing you're fighting against actually stand up for those minority groups it makes the perpetrators think twice about if they're on the right side or not. For some of those who are more stubborn, that's the only way they'll hear the movement out, they need that relatability, unfortunately".

Slightly scripted sounding answer, but fine, you'll allow it...

In the end, it went well! You left feeling proud of yourself for making no mistakes, and even mildly impressed with the interviewee. Nonetheless, your last minute assignment resulted in many late nights, and not enough rest, so you were ready to chill out for the evening. Your boss hugged you, overjoyed, beaming with praises about how the company's social medias were already snowballing with engagement.

The hug wasn't your favorite, but it was a big day for both of you so you accepted it, congratulating her, and your other coworkers for the group accomplishment. You announced you'd be heading out early, being lucky enough to slip out without being pulled into any last minute questioning about your experience with their beloved influencer.

You weren't ready to flag down a cab just yet, figuring you might as well walk a couple buildings down to the little bar you visited on a few occasions. It was a fairly small, family-owned place, but reeled in plenty of business being so close to one of New York's more sizable event centers.

 A warm gush of air pushed past you as a man exited through the same door you were entering, holding it open long enough for you to pass. You mumbled your thanks, walking through to the counter. A mellow, soft rock song filled the space, fighting for dominance over the boisterous chatter of socialization. Thankfully, most customers were stationed at the tables meant for multiple people, it was a day full of gossiping friends and celebrating business acquaintances. You on the other hand, were glad to finally have a moment to yourself.

You found a seat at one of the barstools, smoothing your skirt at your hips before planting yourself onto the cracking leather. "Hello ma'am, what can I do ya for today?" The bartender asked, you were pretty certain he was also the owner, he was here every time you came, and seemed to be the backbone of keeping everything in order.

"Just a tall rum and coke would be great". You smiled, rummaging through your disorganized purse, forking out a ten dollar bill and the half-empty, green box of menthol American Spirits. The man left to fulfill your order, as you flicked a cheap lighter you acquired at a local gas station last week, rolling the metal wheel a few times before successfully producing smoke.

"I thought that was you. Hi again". 

You exhaled a foggy sigh in response, rolling your eyes before reluctantly turning your head to meet the familiar voice. Of course he would be here, work just never truly lets you go, even when you're finally off. "Can't seem to get you out of my hair, Mr. Piker". Your head rest against your right hand, cigarette still laced between two fingers.

"Only thirty minutes of me, and you're already bored? I think that maybe a new record". He chuckled, casually seating himself beside you as if you were an old friend.

"Much more than a half hour, work has practically held a gun to my head, forcing me to watch countless hours of you yelling at a camera for the past week".

"In that case, I apologize. It can be mind-numbing to hear my own voice after a while. Let me buy you a drink to make it up?"

You laughed to yourself although nothing really funny, just amusing. "Too late... don't you have other important things to attend to, rather than bugging me?"

"No, not really. I'll get your next". He nods to the drink just placed in front of you, folding his elbows in front of him on the countertop.

You couldn't help but find him 'cute'. Not in an attractive or endearing manner, but more so admiring his dedication to portraying himself as sweet and charismatic. Cute in a pathetic way. Trying to paint himself as a gentleman as if he wasn't the type of cretin that reeked of ego and emotional unavailability. You could almost hear the tortured souls of past situationships howling warnings to prevent you from being his next victim.

"I could tell you didn't really like me much from the beginning, but can I ask why?"

"No".

He laughed again, any blow you seemed to throw his way just rolled off his pride like it was nothing. "Well fuck, am I really that bad?"

"I don't intend to find out". You took a long sip from you glass, his next sentence almost being enough to cause you to choke on the chilled liquor.

"Are you a republican or something?"

Now it was your turn to laugh; "What? No, I- listen, I don't know you, I just think you seem like a narcissistic, pretentious, whore of a man, and ultimately *you* aren't even my real problem. I just don't understand why my job, let alone millions of people find you to be some progressive prophet. I think there were far better candidates to speak for our panel".

"I get that a lot actually, but I was never trying to be a prophet, or gain clout with politics, I just liked doing it. Isn't the whole whore thing a bit outdated?"

"God, you're like way to old to be saying clout...I don't think everything that leaves your mouth is utter bullshit, you're just... beyond me. You know, not everyone you meet is going to like you? And that's alright, we can dislike each other from a distance. You aren't even from here, so I'm sure once TikTok strips you from next week's algorithm influx of event clips I'll be freed from the shackles of your presence".

"But I don't dislike you at all, in fact I thought you did a really good job today. I was hoping you'd like me too".

You took a long pull of the barely lit cig, trying to gather your thoughts. You were all out of witty comebacks and sly remarks, he seemed frustratingly genuine, and a tinge of guilt crept in. What if he really was just a nice guy rather than some evil, fuckboy overlord. 

Fine. You indulged him. He bought your next drink, and then another, and another. Your cheeks were flushed, eyes heavy-lidded with a beaming grin. Not like he was far behind, being a bigger guy gave him a bit more leeway on the intoxication scale, but not by much. "So, you still hate me?"

"Only a little, I'm starting to see the appeal". You giggled, hair pulled back out of your face with a stray band you were lucky enough to fish out of your mini-junk-drawer of a purse. You weren't sure how much time had passed, but somewhere along the lines you got comfortable. If he was as terrible as he's made to seem, he was an excellent actor.

His fingers tangled through his own curls, cradling the back of his head, elbow still propped firmly upon the tiled countertop. His gaze was always soft, it had a disarming effect about it. Warm, brown, smiling eyes that somehow felt so intense, as if he was looking straight through you.

"About damn time, because I was hoping you'd show me around the city tomorrow. Took a few days for free time before I fly back". He tipped his drink back, rings clinking against the glass as he grabbed it.

"Awh, and you were doing so well, I was almost impressed". You stifled a laugh, trying to ignore his smug smirk; "How often does the whole 'show me around the city' thing actually work with women?"

"More often than you might think. Seriously though, I'd like to see you again. I'll take the little bit of hate if it means you'll take my number".

He's laughably corny, but the liquor had you feeling generous enough to consider it.

"Hmmm, what if I'm not from New York either, I could just be here for the convention, like you".

"Did you think I wouldn't do a bit of research on you too? The media outlet you work for is like less than fifteen minutes away. No way anyone in their right mind is working anywhere over 10 miles out with the way traffic is here".

"Okay stalker". As if you hadn't analyzed enough information to write a biography about him.

"Skimming Wikipedia, is hardly stalking... unless that's what you're into".

You rolled your eyes, folding your arms across your chest, smiling; "What I'm Into is none of your business Mr. Piker".'

"Sorry ma'am, won't happen again". He playfully threw his hands up in surrender.

"Better".

He swindled a plain white napkin from the neat stack in front of him, reaching in his breast pocket to retrieve a blue inked pen, quickly scribbling something down. "I gotta head out, early morning tomorrow...Here's my number, call me if you change your mind". His sentence taking uneven pauses as he spoke, multitasking is clearly not his strong suit. You nodded, watching as he stood to his feet, sorting through his black, leather wallet, leaving some cash behind as a tip before turning to face you.

"Have a good night, Hasan".

"Yes ma'am, you too". he smirked, giving you a small wave as he walked off, trailing toward the exit. Once he was finally gone, the bar was no longer overly busy. Music came out the victor, winning a hard fought battle against the noise of once deafening conversations. It almost seemed too quiet now, uncomfortable from the soft atmosphere you so recently yearned for. A hue of anxiety tugged at your nervous system, beginning to feel greatly perturbed in your skin. Nothing is even wrong, in fact, when you feel this way more often than not there is no real problem. 

Sometimes you worry you'll never end up being one of those at the tables, surrounded in friends that actually get you, like you even. You felt silly even desiring something so "unimportant", but unfortunately, you couldn't hide your feelings from your own brain, no matter how harshly you neglected to address them. 

You sighed, finishing what remained in your cup, mostly melted ice at this point. You needed to get out of here, and back to your home. Being in your favorite space was bound to shake you of your sudden funk. You apprehensively grabbed the napkin, shaking your head at the little smiley face he left by his name, shoving it in your designer bag.

***

Unprofessional. A word that repeated in your head as you stared down the unsaved contact on your phone screen. You half wished he had just taken your number down, so this matter would be on his conscience instead of yours. You were burdened by the idea of looking like another one of his pathetic conquests, only around to feed his already oversized ego.

You were ready to toss the crumpled dilemma in the bin, but remembered what your bestfriend so often told you, reminiscing on your most recent video call; "You can't become a recluse, I know you'd rather like eat a pair of jeans before you try to mingle, but you can't just stay alone forever. C'monnn at least fuck someone for the plot, shits been so boring around here lately, I need a good story time".

Admittedly, Hasan would be a great story time, but was going out with him worth something as nonsensical as the entertainment and approval of your long distance, yet closest friend...? You couldn't answer that confidently, but It was definitely enough to at least slide him a text.

You: Turns out I changed my mind, what do u want to go see?

Unknown Number: I was hoping you would :) Somebody must be in a good mood today

Unknown Number: And aren't you supposed to be showing me places??

You: So I gotta text first, AND take you out? When will it end!

Unknown Number: To be fair I asked for a call

Unknown Number: Jk, I'll message first from here on out, and you're not taking me out, just directing. I'll take care of everything else, I will pay, and send you a ride whenever you're ready. How's that sound?

You: I can get my own ride, but yeah sure. I can be ready in about an hour. What hotel you staying at?

Unknown Number: Impatient are we lol

You: Mf I'm trying to find a place close to both of us. U suck

Unknown Number: You're really fun to ragebait, yk that?

You: Prehistoric and saying ragebait btw

Unknown Number: Ouch! Ok fine I'm at the Hyatt. Super close to the convention center, hbu?

You: Nice try lmao. Ik where that is, I think I got just the place. Meet me here?

You: Dropped Location Pin.

You chose a cute café that had opened within the last year, you only visited a couple of times due to typically sticking to the restraints of the very local shops near you. Living in the heart of the city meant it wasn't hard to find whatever you needed less than a block away, so this was the perfect excuse for you to venture a tad further.

Upon entering the air smelled of freshly baked Italian pastries. Warm and coated in assortments of toppings, some being sprinkled with chopped fruits, others with more decadent options like chocolate shavings or cream fillings. You were overly early, on purpose, a part of you needed to be in your head for a minute, acclimating to the environment before facing him.

To be clear, you weren't nervous, not exactly at least. You are as sure of yourself as sure could be, it was all the other stuff outside of you that was confusing. Sometimes you felt like you were the only normal person around, everyone else went wrong some where along the way and now you were considered the strange one. Like everyone else was gifted a guidebook on how to be a person, while you were just stuck being clueless and well, you...

You liked you, but you weren't sure everyone else felt the same.

You ordered some flaky baked good you couldn't pronounce and a warm tea before finding a seat towards the back, but not far enough from the door to where your date could possibly miss you. My date? Is this a date? You wondered, but quickly scolded yourself for adhering such a silly idea to whatever *this* was.

You're in your head too much, stop that. Focus. You have emails to send, calls to make, shit to do before he gets here. Fix your posture, then fix your face, you're furrowing your eyebrows again. They're going to think you're mean, you don't want them to hate you. It doesn't matter if strangers hate you, are you really that pathetic? FOCUS.

You pulled your laptop from a different bag than yesterday's. This one was much larger, black leather made to look like snake print with gold hardware. You went to work immediately and entered a flow state of catching up on work you didn't really need to do for at least another few days. Someone emailed you asking to do an article on specifically you, not the company, Perhaps the Hasanabi clout was paying off already.

You leaned into the glowing screen and it swallowed you up the way it always did, a gentle tap on your shoulder eventually returned you to reality. Looking up to see the familiar tower of a man smiling at your side, his hand lingered as if you knew each other so well. "Hey, I called you a couple times, you must be really into whatever you're doing". He chuckled as you closed the laptop so fast people would've thought you were casually viewing porn.

"Oh, I didn't hear you, my bad".

"No worries, gonna grab myself a coffee. Be right back". He gave you a soft squeeze before disappearing to the tempered glass cases of goodies.

It was odd, meeting outside of business wear, him mainly, you still maintained the office siren vibe. You just wouldn't walk into work with a skirt this short or a button-up blouse so undone.  You couldn't remember the last time you got dressed up to go out and see a friend, without any business proposals or obligations. It was a while,  unsurprisingly considering the only real one you had lived halfway across the country.

You noted that he also looked nice, sporting an a olive green jacket, and black cargo pants. You wondered if the breezy weather here bothered him, you imagined California rarely ever got cold, sun beaming year round. You put the computer away, taking a sip of the once warm drink you barely touched. Hasan was quick to return, sitting in front of you with the same smile that never seemed to falter. "Are you always this punctual?" He asked, glancing at the time on his phone to see if he was mistaken. He arrived ten minutes early yet somehow you still had him beat.

"Yes, I have to be".

"Or what? You'll implode from lack of a strict schedule?"

"Yes".

"We can't have that". He took a sip from the recycled coffee cup before he continued, steam pouring from the little hole, unfazed by the seemingly scorching drink; "Can I ask, what made you change your mind?"

"Just bored, I guess. It's my off day, you were kinda my last assignment of the week".

"And now you're bringing your work project out on an off day? Yeesh".

You cracked a smile; "Alright chill, I am trying to be more spontaneous, do shit I wouldn't typically do".

"What do you typically do?"

"Say no".

He laughs, removing the bulky jacket before draping it along the back of his chair, exposing a black t-shirt. "I should've guessed that. Well, I must have good timing then, if I met you a month ago we probably wouldn't be sitting here right now".

"We wouldn't... but you weren't the worst company yesterday, and its not often I find someone I despise so likeable".

"Hmm, from hate to despise, I must be doing real good".

You nodded your head, eyes faltering towards your feet for a second, maybe you were the tiniest bit nervous, but only when he wouldn't stop staring you down. His eye contact is intense, okay?! Its completely reasonable. "Something like that".

To your surprise, even sober you began finding him enjoyable. He's funny, and patient, he doesn't get frustrated with your bluntness or write you off. You were beginning to acknowledge his charm was getting despicably hard to resist. After about an hour of chatting he bought you both drinks to go and you were off to the bumbling of the streets. You weren't sure where exactly the two of you were walking, which should've been especially concerning seeing as you are the pseudo-tour guide, but finally you began going with the flow.

"The coffees really good, I think I'd fly back just for that". Cool wind nipped at your hands as you walked against the airflow. You looked over to him, raising an eyebrow; "Just for the coffee, not your favorite city chaperone?"

"Well that's a given". He smirked, lacing his fingers between yours, you considered pulling away, but his grasp was perfectly warm and feeling just right in the cool air. Too comfortable against better judgement.

"Oh do you wanna go there?!" You pointed at a record store you had never noticed before, sounding probably a bit too excited, but how could you not be? You loved music, and craved beginning a physical media collection.

"If you do, then yeah, of course". You ignored his laugh, assuming it was directed at you, but that was far less important than the glowing, pink sign in front of you, glimmering in your pupils like a laser pointer to a cat. You pulled him along, catching up to being slightly in front of you once again to hold the door open with his free hand.

"I take it you like music?" He asked, although rhetorical at this point, watching you revoke his hand-holding privileges only to finger through a stack of vinyls at maximum efficiency. "Yeah I love it, I spend way too much time making playlists, even at the office. What do you listen to?"

"I actually don't listen to too much, not my thing".

You paused from the rapid sorting to face him; "You're joking, right? Everyone likes music".

"Not me, always been more into movies over music".

"But those things aren't interchangeable... What about when you workout?"

"Sometimes, but usually I'd rather just focus".

"On what, the sounds of heavy breathing and weights hitting the floor?"

He chuckled at your genuinely perplexed expression, beginning to file through the records himself, although he wasn't sure what he was looking for. Mainly just admiring the cover art and trying to look busy enough to encourage you to take your time.

"Maybe you can show me some music then".

"I will".

To be fair you did show him music, you just weren't expecting it to be in his hotel room an hour later. Your go-to playlist connected to the Bluetooth speakers, adhered under the flat screen television. You laid back on his bed, taking a drag from the half smoked cigarette as you enjoyed the song vibrating the room. Hasan on the other hand gave you your space, sitting on chair hardly under ten feet from you, watching you drink in your favorite tunes. His jacket was long tossed on the floor, now changed into something more comfortable and glasses-less. Previously excusing himself to the bathroom to slip into sweatpants, accompanied by the same charcoal colored shirt from earlier.

You were impressed by the luxuries of his room, although, with him being wealthy and all it should come as no surprise. "Do you ever wish you weren't so busy?" He asks, leaning back in the tan, leather upholstered, chesterfield chair, absentmindedly tapping his foot.

You thought for a moment, unsure of how to answer. Sure, a part of you craved moments like these, being around another human that isn't paid to be there, making memories filled with more than just business endeavors, but how could you give that up. You couldn't drop your dream career, not for anything. "Not really, I searched for a job as fulfilling as this one for years, moved states for it. I feel like I'm finally where I'm supposed to be, and besides, I barely know what to do with as few free days as I have right now".

"I get that, I'm not sure who I'd be without politics. Its the one thing I've stayed the most consistent with over the last decade, but I also can't imagine leaving behind the aspect of socialization either. I admire your dedication, but I guess I don't understand how you can stand only having one. Don't you get lonely?"

A smoky breath got caught in your throat at that question, you always accepted being alone, but were you someone that was lonely...? You tried not to think about that, sticking to your passion was safe and steady, you didn't need anyone getting in the way of that, distracting you, but here you are.

"I don't know... being alone just makes sense for me. I think I'd rather stick to things I'm good at, relationships aren't one of those".

"How do you know you're bad at something if you don't ever try? I liked you even after you called me a narcissistic, man whore. That's pretty good". He laughed, watching you sit up, reaching over to put the cig out in the ashtray on his nightstand before settling on the edge of the bed, pantyhose covered feet dangling over the polished hardwoods.

"You're easy, and stubborn. Most people would've walked away before then, and I don't really blame them".

Hasan's mouth fell open in amusement and shock at the accusations; "Stubborn? coming from you?"

"Yeah Yeah. Whatever, man".

"For what it's worth, you're doing a lot of good shit for the world as is, dedicated to a real cause. If you love working as hard as you do, that's perfectly fine".

Your smile faltered a bit, it didn't always feel perfectly fine. He was being kind, yet for some reason his words made your chest ache. You wanted to ask him how he does it, balancing it all, being a fun person while also maintaining consistency in his goals. You bit back the envy and vulnerability, you always hid those feelings from the surface. You wanted to let the hurt claw its way from your throat and be heard, explaining how hard it all gets to be. Instead, you decided to say nothing at all.

The conversation fell silent, responsibility to fill the empty space being left to the soft hums of that indie album that warms your heart. He stayed quiet for a minute, hoping he didn't make the wrong move, finally interjecting; "You want me to order us some food, or drinks? The room service here isn't half bad".

You were thankful he let the awkward moment pass without mention, you nodded your head, accepting the menu he swiftly got up and handed to you. He sat next to you on the plush, king sized mattress, pointing out a suggestion. "That is really good, had it last night".

"I'm not too hungry, I'll probably just get a drink".

"You're telling me you got full off a chocolate croissant you had two hours ago?"

"Yup, plus I ate before I came. Seriously, I'm good". Truth be told your mind was too busy to even consider a full course meal at the moment. You both agreed on a bottle of champagne, it was mostly a joke suggestion, but he decided it was a great idea, despite there being nothing worth celebrating. After he phoned in the request he returned by your side, rambling on about something having to do with quick service and 'should be here soon', but by now you already tuned him out, planning to do something still sober and stupid.

He smelled like expensive cologne and future mistakes, something about it ran through your mind on repeat. You weren't scared of him, or even what was bound to come next, but more so terrified of the addictiveness that came with connection. You've done this before, other people on other nights, some good, and even more mediocre, at best. Secretly, you loved it all, the awkward mistakes, the touches that abandoned goosebumps on your skin, the lies, the I love yous, the excitement. It was all painfully human.

Your eyes met his in a knowing manner, gaze drifting between eye contact and his lips. You made the first move, not hurriedly like the way they do in movies, tearing each other's attire off as if the cloth was suffocating their bodies, needing to be removed as quick as possible, but not tender either. you leaned in with a fair amount of hesitation, waiting for him to stop you, tell you to wait, but the moment never came. 

He met you in the middle, his lips soft and plush, tasting like Chapstick and french vanilla expresso. You wonder if he applied lip balm for you, just in case . The same way you decided against wearing lipstick, settling for a clear gloss, on the off chance that...

His hand was hesitant, relaxing on your thigh, inching so patiently up to your side, finding shelter in the dip of your waist. You climbed on top of him, straddling his waist and pushing him back. He followed your lead, as he did all day, allowing you to decide what felt right.

"Take your shirt off". You mumbled against him, he nodded softly, accidentally brushing his nose against yours. You retreated just enough for him to remove his top, pulling the tee over his head in one fluid motion.

You traced your lengthy acrylics over his chest hair, taking in his raw appearance, looking just right under you. He sat up just barely, cupping your face with both hands pulling you back into a kiss. His touch felt electric, and experienced, no stutters or incorrect moves. You wrapped your small hand around his throat, hardly able to even get a good grip due to the size difference, but enough to warn him.

"I'm in control here, you touch when I say you can". You cautioned sternly, large puppy dog eyes making it hard for him to take you too serious, but he agreed. His jaw tightening as his hands fell back to your hips.

"Yes, ma'am".

You were a bit surprised by his willingness, men were often so rough, so greedy, like a pack of hungry wolves to your flesh. You swallowed hard, hand remaining at his neck as you returned to his lips. Both parties were growing needier as you swirled your tongue around his, granting gentle nips at his bottom lip, tugging until you heard him whine from under you. The teasing had him growing harder by the minute, even more so once you began winding your hips against him. Your hands traveling between your legs, lifting yourself enough to undo the tie of his black sweats.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

You cursed under your breath, freezing in place as you remembered the bottle of bubbly you ordered no more than 5 minutes ago. Quickly moving off of him, he stood to his feet, answering the door casually as if he wasn't shirtless. Lucky room service attendant.

He murmured a quick thanks, retrieving the bottle, shutting the door and turning to the kitchenette. You sat up, arms propped up behind you on the bed. "Bad timing, huh?" You smirked, eying the muscles on his back, as he fumbled with the cork, accidentally popping it a tad too fast, spraying some on his chest.

"The worst".

He handed you a full glass, same as his own, sitting beside you as if nothing ever happened. "You know we don't have to do this, I didn't bring you here with the intention of sex. " he asked, sipping the carbonated alcohol.

"Not sure I believe that, but sweet anyways. Don't worry about it though, I want to".

"Good, I want it too".

You drank with intention, hastily gulping down the entire glass, he noticed. Crawling behind him to place it on the nightstand beside the ashtray you previously visited. You sat still, waiting for him to prompt you, but instead he drank with zero rush, taking occasional, slow sips.

"You usually dom?" His tone was casual, but his gaze something more serious, looking intently as if he was waiting to call your bluff.

"Yes, of course. Do I seem very submissive to you?" You laughed, but he was fully serious, buzzing with curiosity.

"Yeah... I think you need someone to take care of you. Focus on what makes you feel good". His voice urged a tingling sensation in your core, and you weren't sure how to respond.

He stole a final drink before setting the glass aside, next to yours, still a quarter full. He situated himself between your legs, hovering over you. You laid your head back against the sheets, heart beating with anticipation and slight confusion; "You don't know what I need". Your words came out hardly above a whisper, somehow weaker than you expected.

"You sure?" He leaned in, speaking only inches away, you relaxed your face, letting your eyes flutter closed expecting him to kiss you, but instead he gave his attention to the crook of your neck. Leaving open mouthed kisses, sucking gently enough to prevent marks. You should probably stop him, regain control, he was getting overzealous.

His lips found themselves at the middle of your chest, pulling back, centered in your view. His fingers slowly went to work on your blouse's buttons, unfastening the rest of them one by one. "You can still dom me if you want, just say the word". his eyes shifting between the lace bra and your perplexed expression. Your head subconsciously shook no, only for a second, despite how nervous you were growing. His touch felt perfect in every way, but this was new, you never surrendered yourself to someone before, and that scared you.  You'd usually stop futile attempts to shift the power, but suddenly you couldn't resist.

He continued, his voice low and husky; "I know you like to dictate everything in your life, but there's still control in submitting to someone... Y'know that? Let me make you feel good, baby".

Whatever bit of your mind you had left that wasn't pining for him to fuck you said this is probably gaslighting somehow, but at this point you were past caring. He kissed down from clavicle to heart, continuing all the way to below your bellybutton. He tugged on your skirt, pulling it along with your tights down only far enough to access your hipbones. Leaving soft bites against your skin, earning a gasp from you.

You tangled your hand in his messy waves causing him to glance up, trying to gauge your feelings. "Is that okay with you? I promise if you give me control just for a little bit you can have it back, as soon as I'm finished". he smiled, hands holding either of your sides, awaiting a clear answer.

You hesitated, massaging timid circles on his head as you weighed your options. You blurted a response without thinking of the immediate embarrassment you'd feel from admission; "I'm nervous, sorry. I-I still want to, I'm just not usually the one to give in". You felt silly and exposed, considering leaving before he ever had the chance to laugh in your face. He didn't laugh, carefully adjusting his positioning from your lower half back up to your face, still above you. "That's okay, we can talk about it. Tell me what you want, or what you don't want".

"I- uh... I want you...?"

"Well yeah, I know that, but what do you want me to do with you? You want me to be rough, call you names, or be sweet?"

"I like rough. I don't want to be called anything too mean, I don't like whore or slut".

He propped himself up on one elbow, the other caressing your face, smoothing astray hairs with his thumb. "Got it... hmmm, What about my pretty little puppy? Could pet you and tell you how good are are doing. That okay?"

Your mouth fell slightly agape, unsure if you were supposed to laugh or not. You assumed he was joking, but very quickly realized he was dead serious. Pet play was not something you were all too familiar with, but it didn't sound bad. To be fair, almost nothing sounded bad coming from his mouth.

Pretty little puppy. Your mind replayed his syrupy sweet tone in your head, your bent legs relaxed at his sides, skin grazing against his. Maybe you finally found something you agreed on.

"As long as I don't have to bark for you". you smiled, draping your arms around the back of his neck, hoping he'd finally return to your lips.

"Only if you want to, baby".

Once you sorted out the details of your arrangement, he moved quickly. Yanking off your top, along with your bra. He flipped you over, pressed against the mattress, at his mercy. Next it was your bottom wear, removing all three layers of cloth in one motion, allowing them to fall in a scattered pile on the floor.

His breaths were heavy with lust already from seeing you nude, firmly gripping your hips from behind, lifting them ever so slightly, admiring the view of your slick folds. You awaited his next move, heart pounding, wet and naked. The spinning ceiling fan covered you in chills as the cold air repeatedly drafted over your body.

He slipped a thumb into his mouth, wetting the pad of his finger before aligning it with your slit. At first, you appreciated the delicate pace, just barely brushing your clit, but you soon grew impatient, craving more, pushing back against him. It was no use, every time you attempted to steal more than he was willing to give he pulled away entirely. After your third offense he granted you an open handed slap across your ass, only hard enough to sting for a second, testing the waters.

A mixture between a wince and a moan fell from your lips, enjoying the slight pain more than anticipated. "You take what I give you or you get nothing at all, understand?"

You nodded against the sheets, sighing in relief as his fingers returned to your sensitive spot, this time a touch more firm. Sure he scolded you, but he couldn't help himself from giving you what you needed. You tried you best to remain still and pliant, but the increasing pleasure made it impossible. Nonetheless, he did notice your efforts, placing a quick kiss where he previously slapped before once again halting. You were worried you made another mistake, bracing for impact.

"Much better, baby. Trying so hard to be a good girl".  Without warning you were met with sloppy wet kisses to your cunt. Now you were the one trying to pull away, writhing in overstimulation, crying out, no longer able to hold it in. His grasp was unwavering on your thighs, holding you tight to his face, occasional groans vibrating against you.

Your peak was coming up fast, juices already flowing down his chin, and the way he was fucking his tongue inside of you wasn't helping. You babbled out incoherent pleas that only encouraged him. "Don't cum- not yet". He demanded between sucking at your clit, lapping up your slick. 

You wanted to listen, you really did, but his mouth was hitting every inch of your heat, unable to ignore the developing intensity. "I c-can't, please". You whined, nails digging into the white bedding. 

Once again he left you unsatisfied, and edged, building you up just to stop you in your tracks. You never felt like this before, so used to pleasing your previous partners, feeling fulfilled just by getting them off. The idea of your pleasure being the focus was nerve-wracking and overly vulnerable. Before, you couldn't imagine letting someone prioritize you in this way, it was almost uncomfortable, but now you were becoming something you didn't recognize. Ravenous. Desperate. 

Suddenly you'd do anything for him to return to your aching needs. "C'mere, pretty girl". He moved to the edge of the bed, standing and coaxing you to come lay in front of him, head parallel to the erection leaking through his sweats. You looked up at him for your next command, like a good pet would, eyes wide and glossy. His hand held your chin to be sure you maintain the eye contact he so deeply loves. "Gonna grab something, okay? Be a good pup and get on your knees before I come back, understood?"

You nodded in agreement and that was enough for him, placing a brief kiss on your damp forehead before disappearing for the bathroom. He didn't have to tell you twice, when he returned you were sitting on the cool, wood floor so politely, hands folded in lap, that precious, ruined look on your face already. In his right hand lay a belt, leather and folded over itself, the same one he was wearing earlier. 

Without another word he laced it around your neck, the buckle jingling as he adjusted it, nice and tight. Still unfastened so it'd only grow more restricting if you tried pulling away. He wrapped the end of the makeshift leash around his hand, giving it a testing tug that made you gasp. "This okay?" He asked with a voice so tender it sounded like he was only requesting something as simple as holding your hand. 

"Yes". You were certain now, you wanted more. 

"Perfect". He smirked, holding your jaw, caressing your face for a moment before pressing his thumb to your still glossy bottom lip, rubbing back and forth against the shine. "Open". 

You did, allowing your tongue to lull out under his finger as he slid it in and out. His jaw tightened, imagining how it'd feel if that were his dick instead, how you'd look with him slapping the tip on your tongue. He was getting ahead of himself. 

"Mhmm, just like that. You taste your pussy on me, baby?" He cooed, generously allowing you to  suck the length of his digit before pushing all the way to the back of your throat, causing you to gag around him. 

He pulled away, giving you a chance to breathe, using his now free hand to withdraw his thick eight inches, sticky precum flicking onto his abs. Your eyes widened, knowing you were in for a trying time. Your determination eclipsed your fear, opening you mouth in the same manner as before, ready for him. "Tap me if its too much, okay?" 

He held his throbbing length in one hand, belt in the other, griping so tight his knuckles turned white as he slid past the threshold of your lips. He gritted back a moan, slow thrusting as you became acclimated, relaxing your throat. His head tilted back, too entranced in the pleasure of your velvety mouth, cursing under his breath. The husky groans had you squeezing your thighs together, rocking back and forth on your heel, soft whimpers vibrating against him. He redirected his focus back to you, appreciating how good you looked with his cock half-way down your throat. However, half-way wasn't enough, greedy for your touch he yanked the belt, your lips falling flush with the base, pubic hair brushing against your nose. You gagged around him but he held you in place, length pulsing in your mouth. 

"Shhh I know, that's it, take all of it".... "Such a good puppy, so eager to please". 

He wasn't wrong. Every bit of praise you earned made you want to try even harder, willing to give up your own breath just for more shaky commendations. When he finally released his hold, you flew back, gasping for as much air as you could gather before returning to your work. The humming of your moans against his shaft had him biting the inside of his cheek, trying to focus on the pain rather than pleasure. You were getting too good at this, dropping the leather lead and grabbing a fistful of your hair to pull you off. You slid off hesitantly, sucking until the last second, producing a 'pop' sound as you broke the suction. 

He scooped you from the ground, like fully lifted you, your legs wrapping around his waist. He let his sweatpants fall to the ground, both finally, and entirely naked. He stared you down hungrily, arms wrapped around your lower back, in a state of awe with how perfect you look with droplets of tears resting on your lashes, lips puffy and pink, drool smeared all the way down to your neck. His lips crashed into yours, kissing you roughly, yet somehow so precisely it felt affectionate. Hasan sucked on your lower lip before slipping tongue, you tasted like an erotic mixture of salty precum and subtle, fruity sweetness from the champagne.

He laid you back on the bed, leaving himself at the side of it, standing over you. He maintained breathless eye contact as he slid his tip against your clit, making sure you're still drenched. His eyebrows knitted together as he pushed through your entrance, gaining gasps from both of you. The stretch was intoxicatingly filling, he fucked into you, harsh and sloppy, so big every stroke hit just right without even trying. 

Your hands searched for something to hold onto, wishing he was close enough to claw into, but you came back empty handed, settling for fistfuls of messy sheets. Your eyes rolled back, head buzzing with pleasure so intense you could hardly form a thought at this point. "Pretty little puppy taking my dick so well... Fuck- you're so fuckin' tight". 

Snapping you from your empty-minded headspace, he harshly grabbed your face. "Eyes on me, baby. Want you to remember whos fucking you". You nodded quickly, tits bouncing as he pounded into you. 

He was fighting his own release, biding his time by changing positions. He remained inside you while maneuvering himself onto the bed, you straddling on top of him, letting out a sharp gasp from the new angle of depth he was reaching, pushing hard against your cervix.  "Show me how bad you want to cum, pet". He regained his grasp on the belt dangling from your throat, other arm resting behind his head. 

You began bouncing without question, disregarding your already shaking thighs, muscles burning from exhaustion, grinding your hips against his whenever you ran out of steam. It didn't matter what you did, the grip you had on his cock was enough to have Hasan on the brink of being a moaning mess. You on the other hand were practically panting, mouth slightly ajar, face flushed with a reddish blush over your cheeks. His thumb went to work on your clit, rapidly rubbing ripples of pleasure through your core. 

You let out lewd, broken moans, riding him with intent as that feeling you so badly needed returned to the surface, nearly right back at your edge. He pulled you by your leash firmly, snapping you closer. "Let me see your tongue, pup. Open". You obliged immediately, his thumb only leaving its home between your legs to press into your tongue, spit dribbling down his arm. "Good girl". Collecting your saliva for lube he returned back to your sensitive nub. 

"H-Hasan?" You barely managed to get out. 

"Yes, baby?"

"Can I please cum, please?" You were fully prepared to beg, but instead were met with a subconscious, frantic nod from him; "Y-yea, cum with me, baby... cum all over my cock". 

You tried to respond but nothing was coherent, babbles of thank yous and whatnot. He began a countdown, stare intense as he kept you a foot from his face, no longer able to keep the relaxed posture of arm behind the head, he used it instead to grip a handful of ass, holding you steady as he fucked upwards into you.

Before he could reach one he snapped you as close as possible, you fell on top of him, lips colliding with his. Both moaning in ecstasy through the sloppy kiss as you fell over the edge, milking him with your clenching walls as he filled you to the brim. Still throbbing inside you as you're coming down from the dizzying orgasm, he released the belt, cupping your face with both hands. You broke the kiss only to breathe, sweaty foreheads pressed together. He gave you occasional pecks as you remained tied together, close, breathing each other in. He eventually became half-flaccid, and you were really hoping it stayed that way too because holy fuck another round of that would be enough to take you out. 

You came first and then to the conclusion that maybe letting go of control wasn't always so bad, at least not in this context. Surprisingly, you loved it, you wanted more of it, possibly even more of him specifically. "Was that okay?" He asked, soft words practically a whisper, warm breath ghosting against your skin. 

Your lips twisted into a smile that almost became a laugh; "Just okay? No, it was really good". Even 'really good' felt like an understatement, shit, you were about ready to start barking for him. "Wasn't too rough?" 

You shook your head no, to which he responded with a smile, lacing firm arms around your back, laying you against his chest. "Alright baby, the power is back in your hands. What do you want next: a hot shower, sleep, food?" He smoothed your hair out of your face, planting a kiss on top of your head. 

"Can we just stay here for a while?" You asked, absentmindedly tracing your fingers along his collarbone.

"Of course, anything you want". 

***

You ended up showering together, steam pouring over your sudsy skin, glued to one another. He was surprisingly affectionate, intimate even, gently massaging conditioner through your hair, and letting you steal all the hot water while he waited patiently. Holding you from behind or kissing you whenever you'd let him. It almost felt foreign, you weren't the biggest romantic, at least not outwardly, but there was no desire to stop him either. 

You told him you should get back, can't spend the night, but agreed to stick around a bit longer. You changed into one of his clean t-shirts, getting too comfortable in his arms before  accidentally dozing off. You woke up only a few hours later, bodies sleepily tangled together. It reminded you of those days when you were expected to wake up far too early in the morning, when the bed felt just right, and the sun hadn't even risen yet. The plush duvet hugged your torso, same as him, warm and begging you to stay. 

You couldn't.

Well, not technically. In reality, Hasan would've loved for you to stay next to him, even just until the morning, but something in your mind wouldn't let you. So you snuck out, leaving him still shirtless, snoring, and lost in his dreams. At the end of the bed you neatly folded the shirt he let you borrow, collecting your belongings thoroughly. Only evidence you were ever there being the end of a burnt up cigarette, and lip-gloss on the rim of a glass. 

He woke up disheveled, tired eyes scanning around the room for you, hoping you'd only slipped away to the bathroom, sure to pop out and say goodmorning, but nothing. He sighed, disappointed, but not too shocked, he understood you weren't the type to play house. You found no point in pretending to resemble something of a couple, or lingering longer than necessary.  You didn't have time for that.

He texted you soon after, asking where you went. The conversation was short, you had too much to focus on, leaving him on read and getting ready for another day at the office. He asked if he could see you again before he left, you hesitantly agreed. Schedule too full to meet him any day other than the one he departed on. You let him buy you coffee, something about it made you feel hollow, although you couldn't pinpoint why, an obnoxious, burning lump in your throat when you entered the airport by his side. 

There wasn't much time to sit around and enjoy your drinks, finishing them at the terminal. He held your hand the same way he did days ago, you didn't think twice about it this time. "I'm really glad we met". He nodded as if he was confirming certainty to himself, turning to face you. Talking was a lot easier five minutes ago, without him looking directly at you, or sounding so sincere. Walking and talking casual, you wished you didn't have to be so suddenly still, so confronted, but you'd arrived at your final stop. You opened your mouth to speak but your throat went dry, settling on a nod instead. 

"It's okay, I know you aren't big on the sentimentals, I'll keep it to a minimum". He chuckled, you broke a smile, eyes flickering to your feet. 

"Thank you... I had fun too". 

"Good. I hope we can see each other again sometime. For business or otherwise...". 

"Nahhh, I try not to make it a habit to have a *thing* with people I can't stand".

"Only can't stand now? Hmm, not bad, keep me around and maybe I'll get you to liking me by the end of the year... and maybe next time I could show you around LA, or you could tell me where to take you and we'll go". 

You rolled your eyes, stifling a laugh; "Don't get your hopes up". 

He threw his head back in defeat, grin on his face, giving your hand a gentle squeeze. "Well, you have my number, call me if you ever change your mind". He kissed the top of your head, and your heart fluttered more than you'd like to admit. Giving him a little wave when he turned around, a final goodbye before he descended into some overly long line for TSA, so crowded you lost him entirely. Something in you ached.

Somehow he was on your mind more now that he was gone across the country. What ever happened to out of sight out of mind? The first week you felt stricken with loneliness, but maybe you always were and had never noticed it... You went out to a bar, hoping someone would strike up a conversation, they did. You didn't think they were as funny or interesting as Hasan, but that wasn't the point. The point is you were trying, despite how much you wanted to reject anything new. 

As time went on, you made a friend. Not a hookup, not person who didn't *get* you, or a 'work friend' that always said you should hang, but never wanted to really make plans. This was a real, actual friend. You routinely went out together every Sunday, going shopping, getting drinks, walking the city. She was really into music too, the first time you visited her place she proudly showed off her extensive record collection, even helping you start yours.

You still didn't stray from the late nights at the office, but you cut down on going in on your off days, trying to find enjoyment in life outside of business. It was hard at first, but eventually you found yourself complaining on Facetime about having work the next day. On Facetime, not with your hometown bestfriend for once, but with the evil, mansplaining bastard that made you reconsider the life you owed to yourself.

Okay maybe he's not so bad.

But still!

You never really stopped talking to each other, sure you were horrible at responding, but it improved over time. He was often busy himself, so it worked out, you both understood what it meant to have a demanding lifestyle. He didn't make you feel bad for being absorbed with other things, or like you weren't present enough. You talked once a week usually, and that was enough for now. 

Eight months passed, your career was doing better than ever, you weren't repulsed by the idea of socializing (mostly), and the feeling of loneliness fizzled out. You woke up at a little past 11, late for you, but you were trying not to be so strict with yourself, enjoying the little things in life like sleeping in when you could. 

You yawned, trailing to answer the knock at your door, opening it to expect an unplanned visitor only to be met with an empty hall, you stepped out, looking in either direction, almost stumbling on the carboard box below your feet. You didn't order anything that you could remember, but it sure had your name and address plastered on the shipping label. 

You took it back to your kitchen table, running a pair of scissors over the tape. Neatly folded tissue paper, tied together with a ribbon, and a handwritten note tucked under the bow:

To the prettiest, most stubborn puppy girl, 

Saw these and thought of you. 

Heard its getting pretty cold in NY, but the sun is still shining down here.

Turns out there's even a record shop a few miles away from me, 

never noticed it before. I think you'd like it. 

Still missing your company, still hoping you change your mind.

-Hasan 

You rolled your eyes, couldn't help but smile at the decorative cardstock. Carefully unwrapping the gift, your mouth fell wide open at its contents. You revealed a fluffy pair of faux dog ears on a headband with a matching tail attached to a metal plug. Initial shock developing into a full blown laugh. You weren't sure if they were a joke or not, but you fully intended to send a couple teasing pictures in them. Underneath the layer of explicit items was more decorative paper hiding a few additional surprises. 

A skirt, a blouse, a very familiar record. 

Both clothing items resembled your typical style, professional looking enough for work, but cute enough to wear really anywhere. Your heart full with excitement upon seeing the album, it was the same one you said he just 'had to hear' at the hotel, one of your favorites. You were surprised he remembered. 

You held the vinyl to your chest, hugging it almost. By now you had a nice, put together set up for your physical music: a cute thrifted shelf for the growing collection, a turntable and speakers on the top, embellished with a few tiny trinkets. You immediately went to spin it up, a hum of approval slipping from your lips upon hearing the sweet melody falling from the pricey, new speakers. You sat back on your linen couch, retrieving a cigarette from the blue American Spirits box, not your typical choice, but you think you were growing to like this one more. Smoke wafted above your head, content with this moment. 

It's not like everything was magically solved. You still had days where you buried yourself in work so deep you hoped nobody could find you, but sometimes you'd become brave enough to dig yourself back up to the surface. You are still standoffish, and rough around the edges, you still bear sharp, jagged teeth. You can't promise you won't bite. You're still figuring out how to balance being strong without being cold. Reminding yourself that there's strength in vulnerability. It's easy to attack at the first sign of discomfort, the hard part is letting your guard down, but you'd continue to try. 

The idea of being benevolent didn't sound so far away anymore, and neither did California. You exhaled a nervous, cloudy breath, picking up your phone to make the call you'd been putting off for nearly a year now. You told yourself you'd hang up if he didn't answer by the third ring, but he'd already picked up at the second.

You try to hide your interest the best you can by sneaking quick looks at their dancing from beneath your eyelashes, but you’re sure that it’s obvious to anyone who bothers to look that you’re simply fascinated. Their rituals are entirely foreign to you despite all the years you’ve spent living on Pandora — this is the very first time that you’ve been invited to the village at this time of year. The Na’vi are comfortable in their bodies and their sexualities, but that does not mean that they’re comfortable with having their traditions observed by outsiders, by Sky People like you.

You understand their hesitance, and never seek to insert yourself into the village when you’re not wanted. Your life on Pandora works because you live in tandem with the Omatikaya, never pushing the boundaries too far. Truthfully, you think the only reason that the People have accepted you to the level that they have is because Jake has vouched for you. The weight of Toruk Makto’s regard is enough to lower the hackles of most Omatikaya, and the rest of them simply ignore you when you’re around. It’s only the most curious of them that actually speak to you, and you’ve managed to build up a few tentative but mostly solid friendships within the village that you’re actually quite proud of.

Your attention is pulled away from the fluidity of the bodies dancing around the fire by a cry from behind you, and when you turn to look you only just have enough time to spot a familiar blue face before a small but strong body almost knocks you right off the log you’re seated on.

“Um'ma!” Tuk cries out, burying her face in your shoulder as she hugs you in one quick squeeze before dancing back, her sweet little face all scrunched up in a grin. “You’re here!”

She’s almost the same size as you are but with all the strength and solid bones of the Na’vi, so her hug is more like a full body tackle.

“Hi, Tuk Tuk,” You say, a little winded from the impact of her hitting your chest. “Where’s your dad?”

“He’s coming,” Tuk says dismissively, pulling back to look at you properly. When she gets a proper look at what you’re wearing, her beaming smile grows even larger. “Oh, you look so much nicer than usual!”

You don’t take offense to that; it must be a novelty for her to see you out of your usual denim shorts and worn tank tops and sports bras. The clothes that you’re wearing now are traditional for the Na’vi, sized down specially for you. The tewng is a little more revealing than you’d prefer, sitting high on your hips and revealing a wide expanse of your thighs, and the beaded top covers even less. You’re not even sure if it is a top – you think it acts more as a very large necklace, and it only covers your nipples if you stay very, very still. But Kiri had made an extra effort to weave the garments especially for you, and you wear them with all the pride you can muster while being more exposed than you are generally used to.

“Thanks.” You say, reaching out to run a hand affectionately over her braids.

She’s a sweet kid, and you smile fondly as she sits next to you on the log and begins babbling away about the various courting couples who are expected to mate by the end of the season. You listen intently, especially when she throws in some very juicy gossip about couples who are currently dancing (practically grinding against each other, really) by the fireside while in fact engaged in courting with other people. 

You get caught up in her whispering, trying not to stare too long at the people she’s talking about. Your eyes have fallen on Ola’netu, a strong male of the clan who is going through his seventh mating season. According to Tuk, he has turned down every woman in the clan who has expressed interest in him. 

It’s not necessarily unusual for a Na’vi to go through several mating seasons without finding a mate – they mate for life, after all, which means it is not a decision that is easily rushed into. What is causing such a stir about Ola’netu’s situation is that he allegedly shows very little interest in the women of the clan; it seems that he is largely preoccupied with watching the human scientists that live in the outpost just outside the village, if Tuk is to be believed.

That’s enough of a surprise that you find your eyes glued to Ola’netu where he stands watching the others dancing. He is tall, like all Na’vi, with broad shoulders and a narrow waist and impressive lithe muscles carved into his abdomen. He is beautiful, even in that classically alien way that you’re beginning to get used to, but that’s not what has caught your attention. No, what’s caught your attention is the knowledge that he might actually be interested in humans. 

It’s not unheard of — the Na’vi are comfortable and confident in their sexuality, viewing intimacy and sex as part of life, and humans are curious and reckless by nature. Sexual exploration between the two species is probably inevitable, and you often hear giggled whispers detailing their exploits. You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t been fascinated with the idea ever since you heard the whispers, and now you find your eyes straying towards the subject of little Tuk’s gossiping.

“Mommy is annoyed with him,” Tuk confides, leaning into your side. “She says he is too interested in sky demons-”

A large hand lands on your back, the touch searing against the exposed skin, and then a deep voice speaks from behind you.

“What are you two gossiping about, hm?” Jake leans in from behind you, his big head shoving its way between you and Tuk as he winds an arm around both of your shoulders. 

Tuk squeals, clearly taken by surprise at the sudden appearance of her father, and you jolt beside her too. You tear your gaze away from the dancing to find that Jake is already watching you, and you feel your face burn with embarrassment at getting caught staring at the other Na’vi.

“Nothing!” Tuk says quickly, blinking up at her father with all the innocence she can muster.

Jake casts her a quick look, a single eyebrow quirking. His disbelief is unmistakable, but to Tuk’s credit she just smiles sweetly at him. 

“What’re you teaching my daughter, huh?” He asks, nudging at you playfully. “You’re gossiping like fishwives over here.”

You roll your eyes at that, relaxing into his side as his arm drapes lazily around your back. “Don’t listen to him, Tuk. Your daddy is the biggest gossip around.”

That makes Jake laugh, head tilting back as his hand curls around your shoulder. He doesn’t even argue, because he can’t – Jake loves being in other people’s business, and has spent many long lazy afternoons huddled up in the human outpost with you when he needs a break from his Olo’eyktan duties, whispering about the other scientists under the guise of checking in on how everyone is doing. 

You watch Jake turn to Tuk, your eyes tracing over his blue, alien features. Being Na’vi suits him, more than being human ever had. He’s taken to life with the Omatikaya like a duck to water, and it’s good to see him so strong and happy. However, that doesn’t mean that it’s not lonely for you a lot of the time. 

Jake has been your closest friend for many years, but things are different now – he’s older, for a start, and a father and Olo’eytkan for another, and to top it all off he's now an entirely different species. Though you try your best to see him as often as he can, sometimes he’s just busy and doesn’t have the time for you. And though you understand that, you find yourself feeling melancholy about it often.

“Why don’t you go to your mother?” Jake murmurs, pressing gently at Tuk’s back.

“But I want to sit with um'ma for a little while longer.” Tuk protests immediately, her little face scrunching up.

You bite your lip, trying not to laugh. Tuk knows your name, of course, but none of Jake and Neytiri's children ever use it. The kids have always called you um’ma, for as long as you can remember. It’s like an affectionate name for mom, as far as you’re aware. You’ve always sort of assumed that it’s somewhat teasing. You know it’s not entirely unusual for Na’vi children to refer to older female figures in affectionate terms like that – the school children had called Grace sa’nok, a much more formal name.

“Another time.” Jake says, more firmly this time, and Tuk groans loudly in defeat before reluctantly skulking away.

Now that it’s just you and Jake, he straddles the log next to you and spreads his knees out with a sigh. He rolls his broad shoulders, clicking his tongue softly as he shakes out his stiff muscles, before turning to look at you with a little grin.

“Look at you,” He crows quietly, his big golden eyes wandering down the length of your body as he takes in the traditional clothes you’re wearing. You think they look a little ridiculous on you, but Jake looks approving.

You fiddle with the delicately woven top, adjusting it carefully to make sure it’s covering your nipples and sitting very still to ensure that it doesn’t slip. You’ve grown used to seeing the Omatikayan women wear their traditional clothing, but it is very different wearing it yourself, especially when you’re not used to feeling so exposed.

“I think I might look a little silly,” You confess, “But Kiri helped me with the clothes, and she was so excited about it.”

Jake hums, then reaches out to catch your hands and to pull them away from your clothes. “Quit messin’ with it, you look good.”

You grumble, but allow him to tug your hands away. Your cheeks are warm from embarrassment; Jake’s gaze is unexpectedly searing, and keeps dropping down over your chest and legs. It’s not a type of look you’re used to getting from him, and you don’t quite know how to react to it.

“My tits are like, fully out.” You mutter, looking away from his face and squinting back at the dancing figures around the fire. “I know no one cares, but I feel super exposed.”

Jake hums, though he sounds amused rather than sympathetic. He spreads his legs apart even further, ignoring the way you grumble and slap at his knee when he manspreads his way into your space.

“Come here, then,” He wraps a big hand around your elbow and pulls you between his legs. “Now, no one’s looking at you.”

Jake has always been a touchy person, saying more with his calloused hands than he’s able to say with his words, and he’s always been physically affectionate. The fact that he’s so much bigger than you makes his affectionate touches so much more obvious and overwhelming; his hands are so large when he moves you around like you’re a little ragdoll. You end up sitting between his legs, his thick thighs bracketing your hips as you press back into the cradle of his legs. He’s so big where he looms over you from behind that you’re practically swallowed up by his size – the bulk of him effectively blocks the sight of you from any prying eyes.

You breathe a laugh, and relax back into his chest. You do feel a little better now, all nestled into Jake’s stomach as he sits tall over you. You feel safe like this, and you use the opportunity to take another peek at the dancing Omatikaya. 

As the evening gets later, the dancing begins to get more and more energetic. The couples go from dancing around each other to dancing on each other in displays of barely contained eroticism. Some couples have graduated into grinding on each other, and you watch with interest from the safety of Jake’s arms – you so rarely get an opportunity to observe the Na’vi like this, so free and unrestrained.

Jake doesn’t seem to notice that your attention has strayed; he’s giving the dancing couples his own curious look. He is obviously curious about his people as Olo’eytkan, but you also know that your friend is nosey and no doubt wants to know exactly who is getting with who. After a couple of moments of watching the dancing, he drops his head to murmur in your ear.

“So, you never told me what you and Tuk were gossiping about.” He says, nosey as ever. “You looked so invested in the conversation, must have been something important.”

You roll your eyes, curling into him further. The touchiness is nothing strange for the two of you; in fact, it’s normal enough that none of the Omatikaya so much as bat an eye at the way you’re practically perched in his lap. You’re pretty sure that they look at you like a puppy or something, some kind of little lapdog that Jake keeps around as a kind of pet.

“Why are you so incapable of minding your damn business?” You grumble, trying to shift around.

Jake’s chin comes to hook over your shoulder, his back curving as he pulls you tight against him. It’s the kind of move that keeps you pinned, and you grumble a little before going still. Living as a human on Pandora could be lonely, and you’ve found yourself growing more and more touch-starved as time goes on. Having Jake all plastered up against your back is pleasant, and you can’t work up the strength to pull away from him.

“C’mon!” He crows in your ear, jostling you. “Tell me!”

“Ugh!” You reach around to shove at his face, but you already know that you’re going to crack under his questioning. “I just– Tuk was just telling me about some of the People, and who they were interested in for mating season.”

“Oh yeah?” Jake asks lazily, leaning his chin on your shoulder as his eyes dart around the large open area that’s been cleared for the festivities. “Anything interesting?”

“Um…” You pick at your fingers, glancing out at the dancing again. “She was telling me that… certain Omatikaya men were interested in humans. Men like Ola’netu.”

You can feel Jake stiffen from behind you, though you can’t actually see his face.

“Ola’netu?” He repeats, and his chin shifts against your shoulder as he turns to look out over the People.

Ola’netu is easy to spot. He lingers by the edge of the crowd, laughing with friends as they tell stories and drink. That in itself is not unusual, but the way that he shakes his head in refusal at every woman who approaches him to dance is unusual for an unmated adult male. Especially an unmated adult male who has already announced his interest in several different mating seasons already; he is dressed to attract attention, with bright beaded jewelry and a finely woven battle band hugging his slender waist. It is strange that he is refusing dances when he has clearly declared himself interested in mating.

You can’t help but wonder if Tuk is correct; if perhaps Ola’netu is not interested in the women who are seeking his attention because he is more interested in human women instead.

“Huh,” Jake says simply. He almost sounds as though he doesn’t care, but you know him too well. You can hear the edge of irritation in his voice. “Why would you be interested in that?”

“Oh, come on.” You grumble. “Why wouldn’t I be interested in that?”

Jake shifts behind you, one of his big hands coasting around your waist to land on your belly. His fingers drum there thoughtfully, the roughness of his calloused skin against your bared stomach making you shiver a little.

“I didn’t… think you were interested in other Na’vi men.” He says very slowly. His chin is still hooked over your shoulder, staring out at the group of hunters that Ola’netu is laughing with.

“I’ve been single for a long-ass time.” You say quietly, shrugging. “And the human guys back at the outpost are great, but there’s definitely nothing attractive about them, y’know? They’re kind of gross, most of the time.”

“Right,” Jake says vaguely, still squinting out at his people. “You sure you’re not just horny? When’s the last time you got some?”

You gasp, indignant, and turn in his hold to slap at his head. You have to reach high considering your height difference, but he doesn’t bother moving; knowing that he’s allowing your weak little slap rankles even more than if he had stopped you.

“Shut up!” You scold, before turning away irritably when he starts to laugh. You fiddle with your fingers as you wait for his snickers to die down, suddenly feeling shy. “I don’t… I mean, what if it’s not just fucking I’m interested in?”

“Oh?” Jake says absently; you can feel that he’s still looking out at the dancing.

“What if it’s mating I’m interested in?”

That finally gets you his full attention. Jake’s head whips away from the fireside to look at you instead. His eyes are so intense that it feels like he’s boring a hole in your head, and you purposefully avoid looking at him the best that you can.

“Mating.” He repeats, sounding distinctly thunderstruck. “Mating?”

“Yes,” You mumble, embarrassed and on edge. “It’s hardly a new concept for you. You have four kids-”

“I know what it is, smartass.” He snaps back immediately. It’s probably pure reflex based on all the bickering you do usually, because he softens immediately after. “But you're…" He trails off, visibly confused. "How do you know he’s looking for the same? Maybe he’s just a pervert. He might just want to fool around with a human, right?”

Your brow twitches, and you turn your face away from him again. Your lips are pursed, eyebrows drawn together in a frown as you peer unseeingly at the large bonfire roaring in the centre of the camp. You obviously know that the Na’vi mate for life – truthfully, you think that’s part of the appeal. The thought that maybe Ola’netu was only interested in fucking a human out of some sort of morbid curiosity hadn’t occurred to you, but now you feel a little silly.

You sigh, fiddling with one of the little beads on your chest accessory. “I dunno. I guess I just want someone to look after me, you know?”

For possibly the first time ever, you’ve managed to render Jake dumbstruck. He goes perfectly still behind you; even his hand is frozen across your belly. For a long moment, he doesn’t make a sound. You know he’s staring at you because you can still feel his eyes boring into you, but he says absolutely nothing. You can practically hear the cogs working in his head.

“I look after you,” He says at last, sounding confused. “Don’t I?”

You groan quietly, reaching up to scrub tiredly at your face. “God, Jake, come on. You know what I mean. Yes, you do, but… I don’t know, I’m lonely. You have your family, but I have to go back to the outpost to live with science guys that forget to shower for days on end. I just… I want more than that.”

“But you're–” 

Whatever Jake’s protest was going to be is lost, because the two of you get distracted by the tall figure stepping towards you. It’s Neytiri, and for once she isn’t accompanied by the children. There’s a sway in her hips as she approaches, her attention straying once towards the dancing around the fireside before returning to Jake with a grin.

She murmurs a greeting as she settles down next to Jake on the log, leaning in to accept a kiss when he turns to her. You shift between his legs, a little awkward with the position all of a sudden.

Neytiri doesn’t actually seem to mind your presence, though you think you probably took some getting used to in the beginning. Now, Neytiri seems to have accepted that you just come along with Jake, like a two for one kind of deal. She rarely blinks an eye at your interactions, but you still feel vaguely uncomfortable with being stuck between his legs when she’s sitting right beside you. Jake, naturally, seems entirely oblivious.

Her eyes dart between you and Jake, and her eyebrows raise at whatever she sees on your faces. “What is it?”

“Nothing.” You say quickly, but your attempt at nonchalance is sabotaged when Jake interrupts you by saying, “Tuk told her that Ola’netu is interested in humans, and now she thinks that she might be interested in Na’vi men.”

“I was interested in Na’vi men before that!” You hiss, before your cheeks grow hot and you end up retreating back into Jake’s chest. That’s not necessarily something that you wanted to admit, but now you’ve earned Neytiri’s attention.

She’s frowning, looking a little confused. Just like Jake, she looks out across the fire towards the groups of dancing, laughing Na’vi. Ola’netu is still standing at the side of the congregation, smiling and nodding with his friends. He has no idea that the Olo’eyktan and his mate are whispering about him with the little human tucked between their legs like a family pet, and your ears burn at the realisation that this is actually a rather pathetic position to be in.

“Tawtute cannot make tsaheylu.” Neytiri frowns. “Why would he wish to mate with someone he cannot connect with?”

You cringe. She’s right, of course. Na’vi mating bonds are intimate on a level that a human could never experience, and it’s ridiculous of you to assume that a Na’vi would sacrifice that level of intimacy for a few moments of taboo sexual curiosity with a Sky Person.

Over your head, Jake sends her a look. You can’t see him properly, but you can guess that it’s chiding.

“Humans can form deep emotional and romantic bonds without tsaheylu.” Jake is quick to say, but you know it’s just a platitude. 

Now, in the face of both Jake and Neytiri and their doubtful expressions, you feel absolutely ridiculous for your private musings and hope to find a partner for yourself that would care for you and understand you in the same way the Na’vi do for their mates. It’s not that you had been thinking about it super seriously in any capacity, but you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t considered what it would be like to have a partner so much larger than you, one that would treat you as though you were something precious, who would be tender with you. 

They’re thoughts that tend to swirl persistently around your head when you listen to some of the more adventurous humans at the outpost giggling about their exploits, or when you’re alone in your bunk late at night surrounded by the snoring of your fellow humans on all sides. It can’t be wrong to want something like that just for yourself, right?

As you had gotten somewhat lost in your thoughts, Jake and Neytiri had exchanged a full, completely silent conversation over your head; it consists entirely of facial expressions and ear twitches, and you pay it no mind at all. They know each other so well at this point that they don’t even need words to communicate, and you doubt you’d be able to follow along with their wordless conversation if you tried.

“He is much larger than you, tawtute.” Neytiri points out with uncharacteristic caution. “He could hurt you.”

“Well, I wouldn’t jump straight into it,” You say hastily, shifting uncomfortably between Jake’s legs. His hand is still spread casually across your stomach, as though he’s forgotten it’s there, and you feel hyper-conscious of his touch now that the conversation has shifted like this. “All the other humans that have experimented sexually with Na’vi have worked their way up to it, y'know–?”

Unsurprisingly, that’s Jake’s cue to leap into the conversation again. “Whoa, wait a second, wait a second, who was experimenting with who—”

“This is what I mean!” You hiss, turning in your place to swat at his arm. “You’re such a whore for gossip, you’re not even listening to me properly-!”

“I am listening,” Jake says hastily, grabbing at your wrist. “But you can’t just drop that without explaining! You never told me about any human/Na’vi experimenting-”

“It wasn’t relevant, jackass!”

Neytiri ignores your bickering with all the ease of someone who is well acquainted with the dynamic of your relationship. She’s still watching the crowd of dancing Na’vi, her expression stern but thoughtful, and you’re reminded of what Tuk had said earlier; “Mommy is annoyed with him. She says he is too interested in sky demons-”.

“Let’s just forget about it!” You burst out, desperate to be done with this conversation. You’re beginning to worry that talking like this is going to change the way they look at you – make them judge you. “Let’s not talk about this anymore.”

Your words fall on deaf ears. Jake is still squinting around the gathering of Omatikaya as though he might be able to guess just by looking at them which ones may have fooled around with humans, and Neytiri has turned around on the log to take another look at you. Her stare is as intense as Jake’s, but for some reason you feel as though she can see more. 

“This is your first time witnessing mating season,” Neytiri points out, slowly as though she has to think carefully about each word. “You are dressed as one of us.”

When Neytiri reaches over to you, you have to fight a flinch. She has grown used to you and has accepted your presence around her family, but she doesn't often touch you if she can help it. And yet now she reaches out and adjusts your chest covering with her long fingers. It had been knocked askew when you had turned to slap at Jake, and you practically hold your breath as she sets it right delicately. 

 “You need a release,” Neytiri murmurs, eyebrows drawing into a frown. “The other tawtute do not help you with this?”

“She’s not just talking about a release,” Jake grumbles. “She’s talking about mating.”

You hiss in aggravation. “Why is that so weird? I’m just sick of being alone!”

“But you’re not alone,” Jake says, leaning over your shoulder and pulling you back against his chest to make eye contact with you. “You have us. Sully's stick together, remember?”

He’s as annoyingly earnest as ever, and is still missing the point. You can’t blame him, not really – Jake’s family is his fortress, as he loves to say, and you doubt he can even remember what it feels like to be really, truly lonely. He’s carved out a place for himself here amongst the clan, and they accept him quicker than they ever would you thanks to his Avatar body. 

“Oh, shut up.” You grumble, but you allow yourself to lean on his chest to take the sting out of your tone. 

Neytiri shifts beside Jake, her expression still and thoughtful. To your horror, she continues the conversation – and it’s not as though you can tell Neytiri to shut up the same way you can tell Jake to.

“Sex is a means for bonding in mated pairs as well as outside of them,” She says. “It is not unusual for unmated Na’vi to share intimacy in such a way, and to provide each other with release. Are you sure that this is not what you are seeking?”

Oh, how humiliating. You sink a little lower, hoping that you might disappear right into Jake’s chest.

“Yes.” You mumble, “Quite sure.”

In an effort to distract yourself, you avert your eyes from the couple you sit with and look out towards the festivities again. Over your head, Jake and Neytiri murmur to each other, but you block them out to the best of your ability. You don’t want to know what they think about this or what they have to say about your situation. If you’re lucky, they'll think you’re rather pathetic and feel vaguely sympathetic towards you. If you’re unlucky, then Jake will do what he always does and poke his nose in your business in an attempt to sort things out for you. The idea fills you with a sense of horror; who knows what he’ll say or do to people to get you laid.

As you look out across the gathering, one head in particular turns to look back at you in return. Ola’netu is looking your way, and your spine goes ram-rod straight when he smiles at you.

Like an idiot, you look around to see if there’s anyone sitting nearby that he might be smiling at instead. It’s possible that he was actually smiling at Jake, but both Jake and Neytiri are distracted with whatever almost silent conversation they’re having over your head.

Slowly, you look back at him. His smile has gotten wider, as though he finds you funny. Your heart skips, eyes growing wide as you stare back at him. You’re a little bewildered, but you can’t ignore the sudden pulse of wild excitement that shoots through you. He’s looking at you. He’s looking and he’s possibly interested in humans, and does this mean something?

Tentatively, you smile back. It’s more a nervous quirk of the lips, but Ola’netu seems to take it as encouragement because he begins walking over towards you.

“Oh!” You blurt in a soft whisper, startled to see him approach. You press back into Jake’s chest automatically, peeking out from the cage of his big arms to watch as Ola’netu makes his way around the fire towards where you’re sitting.

Jake doesn’t seem to notice your distraction. He just adjusts his arms when you shuffle closer, still whispering with Neytiri with his brow furrowed. But Neytiri glances down at your quiet sound, and then follows the line of your gaze out towards the gathering. When she spots Ola’netu walking over, her eyes widen and she sits back in surprise to watch his approach.

Ola’netu walks with a swagger, with all the confidence of a warrior in his prime in the middle of mating season. It’s a little overwhelming to have all of that directed at you, and you find yourself floundering a little the closer he gets.

When he comes to a stop in front of where the three of you are sitting, Jake finally seems to notice him. He turns his head, blinking up at Ola’netu when he comes to stand by the log.

“Ola’netu.” Jake greets him. There’s an edge to his voice that he doesn’t usually have when he talk to the people in the clan, and you can feel his muscles tense a little where he’s pressed against your back.

“Olo’eyktan,” Ola’netu greets, gesturing to Jake out of respect. His attention doesn’t stay on Jake for long though, because then his big yellow eyes swing towards you where you’re curled up between Jake’s thighs. “Tawtute. Will you dance?”

For a long moment, you’re frozen. Though you had been talking about human/Na’vi pairings only moments ago, it had felt hypothetical. There was a big difference between Ola’netu possibly being interested in humans, and him being interested in you, after all.

You can’t remember the last time you felt desired. You feel valued of course, thanks to your friends, but you haven’t actually felt like a sexual being in a long time. But now this big, strong Na’vi warrior is standing in front of you asking you to dance during mating season, after spending all evening turning down dances from beautiful Na’vi women.

“I don’t think–” Jake starts to say from above you, but you don’t let him finish.

“Yes!” You say quickly, wiggling your way out of Jake’s arms. He seems to forget to actually let go of you, which means you have to practically wrestle your way free. “Yes, I’d like to dance.”

Ola’netu grins, and you feel your own expression break into an answering smile. A dance! No one has ever asked you to dance like this!

You allow yourself to be led out towards the rest of the gathering, your small hand enveloped by Ola’netu’s much larger one, and you don’t glance back once to see the expression on your friends’ faces.

The evening had gone better than you could have ever hoped for. 

Ola’netu had been polite and courteous, clearly fascinated with your alien features but never to the point of making you uncomfortable. You had danced for what felt like forever; first, copying his movements as best you could from hip-height, but then as the dancing slowed down Ola’netu had crouched to his knees and guided you in a dance from eye-level. It had made you blush something fierce; the dancing of the Na’vi is often joyful and wild and unrestrained, but for mating season it’s slow and sensual in a way that had made your knees weak as Ola’netu had cradled you against his much larger body.

Even now, as Jake walks you through the forest back to the outpost, you can hardly keep the smile off your face. You’re slung over Jake’s back like a baby koala to save time, as Jake can move through the forest faster when you’re not stumbling over roots behind him – the position means that you can tuck your face into his shoulder and daydream about the whole evening, replaying it all back through your mind.

“Did you see when he was spinning me around by the waist?” You ask, leaning forward over Jake’s shoulder in an attempt to see his face.

Jake just grunts.

“He said my hair was pretty too,” You murmur, an absent-minded little smile growing on your face. “Do you think Tuk would braid some more beads in, if I asked?”

“Mhm.” Jake doesn’t sound as though he’s interested, but his big hand pats at your thigh where they’re wrapped around his waist to show he’s listening. “She would. You don’t need that, though.”

You’re too lost in your thoughts to reply, resting your head against Jake’s shoulder and daydreaming. It’s exciting to experience attention like that, and so unusual for you too. Even if nothing ever comes of it, you think that this entire interaction will fuel your confidence for months to come.

You hardly even notice when you and Jake reach the outpost, but it’s not as though he needs you to give him directions. He knows the layout of the outpost well, and is perfectly capable of navigating his way around without your help.

It’s late, yet the outpost is still buzzing with activity. The scientists stick to odd hours, often getting so absorbed in their work that they’re hardly even aware of time passing, and they barely even glance up at the sight of Jake carrying you into the outpost.

The area for living is a little cramped, but you have managed to secure a tiny room for yourself away from the rest of the human inhabitants. It’s small, but it’s private, which is a rare luxury in the outpost.

Jake ducks his head in through the doorway, and plucks you off his back in the same movement. You’re used to him man-handling you, considering how much larger he is, and so you don’t resist as he pulls you around to hold you against his chest before settling you back down to the floor.

“Maybe I’ll come back around the village tomorrow,” You say, turning on your heel to beam up at Jake. “Ola’netu said that there’ll be a sturmbeest hunt tomorrow, and there’ll be a celebration in the evening.”

Jake grumbles, stepping forward and sinking down onto your lumpy bed. It creaks dangerously under his weight; it’s comically small beneath his enormous frame, his long legs hanging off the mattress as his torso spreads out over the bed.

“You don’t need a reason to come to the village.” He mumbles, his mouth opening wide and his fangs flashing as he yawns. “Definitely not because Ola’netu invited you.”

You roll your eyes. “Why are you being bitter? Let me be happy about this.”

There’s a beat of silence, and then Jake rolls over onto his side to watch you. When he doesn’t speak immediately, you avert your gaze and turn your back to him. You’re still wearing the Na’vi clothes gifted to you by Kiri, and you’re beginning to feel significantly more exposed now in the privacy of your own room than you had when you had been surrounded by other Na’vi dressed similarly to you.

“You know,” Jake begins in a low drawl from behind you, “I didn’t even know you were looking at the Na’vi like that.”

“I’m not looking at anybody in any way.” You grumble, moving over to your dresser. You’re careful not to look back over at Jake on your bed, already flustered enough by the topic of conversation. “Will you look away? I’m about to change.”

Jake completely ignores you; you can feel his eyes boring into you as you rummage through your dresser looking for your pyjamas.

“You’re looking at the villagers like they’re people you want to fuck.”

“Jake,” You snap, growing irritated. “Quit it. You’re making this weird when it isn’t.”

“Oh yeah?” Jake’s voice grows amused, teasing, which is a little infuriating. You do your best to ignore him as you go rooting for a tank top. “What are these for, then?”

You glance over your shoulder, already on edge just from the tone of his voice, and feel your stomach drop at what you see. The drawer in your bedside locker is open – it’s where you keep all your underwear, and there’s several pairs of panties hanging out from where Jake has clearly been rooting around.

Dangling from his big blue index finger is a pair of bright red lacy panties.

“Jake!” You shriek, jolting forward and reaching out to try and grab your underwear off him. “Oh my god, you big pervert!”

Infuriatingly, he just laughs and holds you at bay with a single hand placed across your sternum. It takes so little effort that it feels as though he’s dealing with a child, and you let out a little sound of frustration as you attempt to wrestle your underwear back out of his hands.

“Oh, come on,” He’s laughing, big hand spread all across your chest to keep you away. “What’re you getting angry over? Can’t your best friend ask why you have sexy panties all hidden away?”

“The key word there is hidden!” You snap, mortified. “Why were you going through my underwear drawer, you absolute weirdo-”

When you slap at his chest, he simply loops one arm around your waist and hauls you up into his lap. Your irritation doesn’t faze him in the slightest; he just looks amused. 

“Maybe I was worried about you,” He says, finally allowing you to grab the lacy panties out of his hands in favour of pulling you closer to his chest. “Am I not allowed to be worried about my friend?”

“You’re not worried,” You snap, holding the red lace to your chest as he adjusts you on his lap. “You’re just making fun of me!”

Jake has always been touchy, but now that you’re sat in his lap in nothing but a Na’vi tewng and beaded chest accessory those touches feel heightened somehow – his hands are big and calloused and hot as he holds you still in his lap, his eyes watching you closely. It’s not so dissimilar to how you had been sitting earlier in the village, but this time you’re alone and in your room and he’s making fun of you over your panties.

“Nah,” Jake drawls, “I’m worried about you trying to take on more than you can handle. Are you even familiar with Na’vi anatomy?”

You nearly choke, flustered. “I-I’ve studied the People for years–”

Jake’s grin only widens and grows sharper, as though he’s scenting blood in the water. “Have you experienced it outside of a damn textbook, sweetheart?”

You falter. He knows the answer to that, yet he’s watching you closely as you fumble with the question. 

“No.” You say at last, fingers clenching around the lace in your hand. “You know I haven’t.”

“You want to?”

For a long moment, you wonder if you heard him correctly. You pull back and do a double take, staring up at him in bewilderment. He’s staring at you hard, all big eyes and long lashes, and you swallow thickly. The atmosphere between you is thick and tense in a way that you’re not used to experiencing around Jake, and it’s making you skittish.

“I–” You begin, your throat spasming as you swallow nervously. The next words come out in a breathy whisper, completely missing the light-hearted joking tone you had been aiming for. “Are you offering?”

Jake chuckles quietly, one hand trailing down your back to rest on the base of your spine. It’s an innocent touch, but your tewng is slung low over your hips and the texture of Jake’s hand is rough and hot against the sensitive skin of your back.

“”’Course I am. You should have come to me straight away when you first started thinking about Na'vi cock. Haven't I always looked after you, huh?” Jake is still grinning, but he finally releases his hold on your hips.

You go scrambling back, almost falling right over onto your ass as you clamber back to your feet. You’re still clutching at your sexy underwear, your cheeks burning – you’ve never actually had the opportunity to wear them since you arrived on Pandora, and you’re humiliated that he’s found them and looked at them and held them. You’re so distracted with the underwear situation that it takes you a moment to fully catch up to what Jake is really saying.

“But–” You manage, swallowing thickly. “But Neytiri-”

“Weren’t you listening earlier? Sex is a means for bonding in mated pairs as well as outside of them,” Jake reminds you, his head tilted as he watches you. “You need a release, and you need someone to guide you through it before you go fumbling around with other Na’vi. I’m your best friend, aren’t I?”

You nod slowly, wondering how the conversation has taken this particular turn. Your pulse feels terribly loud, and you half wonder if you’re dreaming this whole evening – everything feels so strange.

“So, go on,” Jake says casually, leaning back on his hands as his legs spread where they’re hanging off the mattress, his tewng shifting. “Take a look, if you want.”

You hesitate, eyes wide. You can hardly believe what he’s offering, yet your stomach fills with anticipatory butterflies. You’ve never gotten the opportunity to explore a Na’vi body like this before; in the safety of your own room, you can sate your own curiosity that’s been building for years. And even better, it’s with your best friend – Jake might tease you, but he would never judge you for this.

Tentatively, you step back towards Jake. He’s still sitting with his legs spread wide on your bed, his eyes sharp and predatory as you move closer to him. His mouth starts to tilt up, but he keeps himself impressively still as he waits for your next move. It feels as though you’re in charge of this interaction, but it also feels as though that control is tenuous.

You’re practically holding your breath as you reach out to brush your fingers over the musculature of his chest. His body is softer now than it used to be, his human DNA coming to the fore as the years go by. You actually prefer this to the lean litheness of his Avatar body when he had first gotten it; your fingers trail over his pecs, enjoying the soft cushions of his muscles. His skin has an almost velvet-like texture, and you take the chance to really enjoy the feel of it against your fingertips.

Jake holds perfectly still as your touch coasts over his chest, down towards his stomach; though he’s not moving, he’s watching you closely as you touch him. Your blood is roaring in your ears, your heart beating in your throat. It feels as though you’re walking a thin line here, and you’re worried that you’re about to cross a point of no return.

“It’s not just my chest you wanna see, is it, sweetheart?” Jake asks, his voice deep enough that his stomach rumbles beneath your fingertips. “Where else do you wanna look?”

You swallow thickly, momentarily distracted by the pretty azure stripes on his belly. He has two freckles just over his belly button, and your eyes are drawn to them like they’ve been magnetised.

“Can I–” You begin, your tongue heavy and clumsy in your overly dry mouth. “Can I see your, um... your tail?”

There’s a pause, and then Jake laughs. It’s a dry sort of chuckle, as though your request has taken him by surprise.

“Yeah, kid. Of course you can.” He says, still grinning, before shuffling forward on the bed so that he’s sitting right on the edge of the mattress.

He’s so comically big sitting on your bed, his long legs all bent up as he leans forward with his elbows resting on his knees. Like this, his back is long and taut and his tail is perfectly exposed at the base of his spine.

A little thrill runs through you as you climb up onto the bed beside him, your eyes fixed on his tail. It undulates lazily in the air, as though anticipating your touch coming its way. If you were to be honest with yourself, you’ve experienced the urge to grab at his tail many times over the years as it waves about, but never in the way you want to touch it now.

The base of his tail seems to attach right into the base of his spine, and you touch the little protrusion there curiously. The ties of his tewng wrap delicately around the base of his tail, and you run your fingers carefully over the butter-soft skin there.

You’re faintly aware of Jake sighing above you, shifting just slightly as you stroke over his tail. It twitches, as though he’s not sure whether he should be pushing into your touch or away from it. It’s prehensile and active, writhing in the air under your fingers. It’s almost sweet, and you can’t fight your little smile as it twitches under your hand.

“Mmm,” Jake hums, and turns to look at you over his shoulder. A few of his locs have slipped over his shoulder, and hang over his face as he looks at you through heavily lidded eyes. “You finished with that?” 

You are, but you find yourself nervous to move on. The whole situation feels as though it’s slipping out from between your fingers, and you glance nervously up at Jake’s face in an attempt to read his thoughts. You don’t know what your next move should be, and you try to pick up any hints from his expression.

“I guess.” You whisper, fingers lingering around the spot where his tail meets his spine.

Jake huffs a soft chuckle, reaching around to grab at your wrist. He’s gentle when he tugs you away from his back, pulling you around to his front so that he can see you properly.

“What’re you so nervous for?” He asks in a murmur. “It’s just me.”

That actually makes you laugh softly with him, your shoulders loosening a little. He’s right – this is Jake, just Jake. He’s trying to help you.

“Yeah,” You breathe, smiling back at him. You don’t feel confident about it, exactly, but you relax into him enough that you feel comfortable enough to keep touching him, growing even bolder with your wandering hands.

It’s natural for you to be curious about his queue, so that’s where you reach next. You do so somewhat cautiously, waiting for him to stop you. You’re well aware of the implications of this particular part of the Na’vi anatomy, and you didn’t truly think you’d ever get an opportunity to examine it closer.

Jake doesn’t stop you as you pull the thick braid covering his neural queue over his shoulder towards you, though you don’t miss the nearly imperceptible shudder that goes through him. You keep your touches gentle as you explore the thick glossy hair covering it, your curious fingers travelling slowly down towards the bottom.

“Careful.” Jake says. His voice comes out thicker than usual, rough and gravelly, and the sound of it startles you into looking up. His eyes are like molten gold, except the pretty green-gold of his iris has been swallowed up by the black hole of his pupils as they expand.

“Sorry,” You whisper, staring back at him with wide eyes. “Does it hurt?”

Jake’s expression twitches, his mouth curling into a self-satisfied, amused sort of smile. “Nah, it doesn’t hurt. Keep going. Just go easy – that bit is sensitive.”

You nod to yourself, and keep your touch as light as you can as you hold the end of his braid up to your face for closer inspection. Thin, pinkish tendrils writhe in the low light of your room, and you squint at them in fascination – it’s the first time you’ve seen anything like this in person, and you feel your mouth form a little ‘O’ in awe. You’re holding an extension of Jake’s whole nervous system in your hands. You’re struck by the sheer level of trust in you that he must have to allow you to do this, and you feel your stomach go a little gooey with sheer affection towards your friend.

“Wow,” You breathe, watching the tendrils curl and react as your breath ghosts over them. “Amazing.”

Jake grunts, sounding faintly pained. You look up from his queue, startled, only to see that his back has rounded slightly as he sits with his elbows leaning on his knees.

“Oh,” You blurt. “I am hurting you! You should have said! I’m sorry, I didn’t–”

“No, kid,” He breathes, turning to look at you with a grin. “Like I said, it’s sensitive. It feels good.”

You blink, startled. “Oh.”

You can’t help the way your eyes trail down towards his tewng, especially where the flap of the loincloth hangs heavy between his legs. His thighs are thick and well-muscled, and you shift on the bed beside him as you eye him up.

“Take the tewng off.” Jake guides you in a low rumble, his big hand spreading across your lower back and pressing you gently forward towards him.

“Mine or yours?” You ask, eyes wide and a little nervous as you stare back at him.

That makes Jake laugh, his thumb stroking over the bare skin just above your own little loincloth. “That’s up to you, sweetheart.”

Right. You swallow, your mouth dry with nerves. The ball is in your court here.

Slowly, you reach out to the sides of his loincloth with trembling fingers. It takes a bit of effort to undo the ties that keep him covered considering your nervous fumbling, but you manage to get the tewng untied without Jake’s help – not that he’s trying to help. He just sits there and watches you with those big eyes of his, though they’re half-lidded now as his tail undulates behind him.

You’re genuinely nervous, but it’s like you’re being driven by a pure compulsion. You can’t stop your hands from reaching for the coarse fabric, regardless of the anxious tremor in your fingertips. Now that Jake is sitting in front of you, willing and inviting as his legs spread wide for you, you are eager to explore his body as he offers himself up for you.

“Okay,” You breathe to yourself, hyping yourself up as you peel back the fabric of his tewng.

When you strip it back and move to set it aside, you practically freeze on the spot. His cock is big, and it’s half-hard where it springs up from beneath the coarsely woven material of his loincloth. For some reason, the sight of his obvious arousal takes you by surprise, and you take a sharp inhale of breath as you stare.

Jake is cocky, and he leans back on his hands as he spreads his thighs even wider apart. Under your wide, fascinated stare, you swear his cock swells further. It’s not much of a surprise that the pretty blue stripes that pattern his body extend to his cock too, but the little dots of bioluminescence scattered over the length of his erection is a surprise. His cock is pretty, the tip of it the same adorable pink of his soft, cat-like nose. 

Your palms itch at the sight of it, and your thighs shift and slide together – you want to touch him, so badly that the urge is physical. 

“Well?” Jake asks; the bastard sounds a mixture of amused and proud. “What do you think of your first Na’vi cock, huh?”

You feel as though you’ve been struck dumb. He’s so damn confident about himself, and now that you’re faced with the sight of his erection jutting up from his body like this you’re reluctant to admit that he has reason to be confident. You’d rather choke on your own tongue than admit that, though; you just know that his head would swell to unbearable proportions.

You clear your throat and affect a disinterested tone as you lie, “I thought it'd be bigger.”

Jake tilts his head back towards the ceiling and huffs a deep, throaty laugh. Your indifference is utterly unconvincing considering the way your eyes are practically glued to his cock and the way you shift around with your thighs sliding together.

“I can smell you, smartass.” He rumbles, exposing those sharp fangs of his in a grin. “All sweet and musky. Smells like you like what you see.”

You release your breath in a surprised huff. You forget sometimes that the Na’vi have such superior senses; the reminder has you flushing in mortification as you scramble to think about all the other times Jake may have been able to scent arousal from you. He had almost certainly been smelling it all fucking evening as you had been watching the mating season dances.

“Well, maybe I’m just impressed that there’s a part of you that looks this pretty.” You say obstinately, tilting your chin up towards him. “It’s, like, the total opposite of your face.”

Jake’s grin doesn’t falter, not even for a second. He coos, affecting an expression of exaggerated hurt.

“You don’t think I’m pretty, baby?” He asks, leaning closer to you so that your noses are practically touching.

You swallow, just barely stifling the urge to jolt back. It’s so rare for him to be close to you like this without your exo-pack in the way, and the feel of his hot breath ghosting against your lips like this sends a little thrill down your spine.

“Shut up,” You grumble, before clambering off the bed and sinking to your knees in front of him.

Jake’s eyebrows shut up, his grin turning sharp and anticipatory. “Yes, ma’am. Who am I to interrupt your scientific exploration, huh?”

Scientific exploration, you think to yourself. Yes, that makes sense. That’s all this is. Jake is just helping you so that you don’t make a total fool of yourself if it comes to intimacy with other Na’vi, because he’s your friend and he cares about you. 

You shuffle closer to him on your knees, and reach out to tentatively take a hold of his cock. Like this, you’re able to get an even closer look – it’s such a pretty shade of jewel blue, all patterned with azure stripes and dotted with those lovely bioluminescent white dots. There’s even a little cluster of phosphorescent white freckles near the pretty pink tip, and you lean in to admire the way they glow. 

Up close like this, you can see that there are veiny little ridges all along the shaft. You trail your fingers over those little bumps curiously, jerking your head back when Jake’s hips twitch, pushing his cock further into your hand.

“Fuck,” He breathes, “Sorry, honey. Keep going.”

Jake’s cock is so hard, harder than any human dick you’ve ever felt. It’s like holding a goddamn lead pipe all wrapped up in velvety soft skin. You can’t stop staring at the delicate little glowing white freckles, fascinated with the way they pulse in time with the twitch of his pretty pink cockhead. You’ve never actually thought of a cock as beautiful before, and you resent the fact that it’s fucking Jake that’s changed your mind.

You look up at him, his swollen cock cradled in your hands. “Do you–” You break off, swallowing. “Do you really think I could take something like this? Maybe you were right earlier. This might be out of my league.”

Jake’s expression softens a little at that, and he reaches out to rest his hand on top of your head. His thumb strokes over your scalp softly, soothingly.

“That’s quitter’s talk, kid,” His tone is antagonising and completely at odds with the softness of his touch. It’s the kind of tone he uses when he’s challenging you during your bouts of bicking. “You haven’t even tried yet. We’ll get you ready for it.”

He’s only trying to help, and yet you feel excited heat curdle low in your belly. You want his help so much more than you had expected – you don’t know what getting you ready for it involves, but you crave it.

“Okay.” You breathe. 

He taps your cheek with his index finger, all fond and soft as you turn your attention back down to his erection in your hands. Your grip is still a little uncertain; you barely know what you’re doing. This is so far outside of your past experience.

When your grip firms, Jake grunts softly and a delicate little trickle of pearlescent precum dribbles from his cockhead down over your fingers. His precum is tinged blue, which is enough of a novelty that you almost giggle at the sight of it. You use both your hands to explore his length, fingers trailing over all those delicate ridges. The little phosphorescent freckles along the top close to his tip are apparently sensitive, because when you rub your thumbs over them Jake’s hips thrust gracelessly into the air.

“Fuck,” He sighs, his big hand settling firmly over the top of your head. “That’s it. Touch the bottom of it – there’s a spongey part that feels good when it’s stimulated.”

You follow his instructions. There’s a curious swell around the base of his cock that just seems to be growing. One of your hands travels down to it curiously, splaying over it and then rubbing it at it experimentally. His hips rock forward sharply, a huff of breath leaving him as he grunts a muted, “Fuck!”

Jake is so much more expressive than you had expected him to be – but then again, you’ve never really thought of him like this. He’s almost panting as he leans back on his elbows, craning his neck so he can get a look at what you’re doing. One of his sharp incisors is digging into the soft swell of his lower lip, a little furrow between his brows that deepens every time you rub at his erection.

“What is this?” You wonder, prodding curiously at the soft, spongey tissue around the base of his cock.

He huffs a laugh, rocking his hips a little further into your hands. “Weird, isn’t it? Come on, I thought you ‘studied the People for years’ – don’t you know what this is?”

You flush, averting your gaze from his slightly mocking eyes. “You– no, I don’t… I mean, it was more from an anthropological point of view–”

Jake purses his lip in a little pout – it’s a mockingly sympathetic look. “Na’vi men don’t have scrotums, honey. Instead we have these weird little squishy parts. To hold the cum, I guess, I don’t know. Never really asked. Look, press down on it.”

Despite the less than satisfactory explanation, you press the tips of your fingers a little harder into the soft swell around his cock. More precum bubbles out of the little slit on the top of his cock, spilling over as though you’ve just squeezed it out of the squishy base.

“Oh,” You breathe, before looking up at him with an impish sort of expression. “I always knew you had no balls.”

That wipes the stupid smug look off Jake’s face, although he tilts his head back and snorts a laugh. “Oh, you’re such a dickhead.”

Your face melts into a grin, your head all tilted back as you watch him laugh. This feels more like your normal dynamic, and you relax where you’re kneeling between his thighs. It’s reassuring to know that even with his hard dick in your hands dribbling precum all over you, your friendship remains unstrained.

Finally, you lean forward and lick a stripe up the underside of his cock. It’s more experimental than anything; you want to feel that velvety soft skin under your tongue, to see how it tastes. The swollen flesh of his dick is hot, the weight of it pleasantly hefty on your tongue. You’re a little surprised to find that it tastes similar to human dicks that you’ve experienced before; a little more earthy, perhaps, a little sweeter to taste.

Jake tilts his head back with a little grunt, his fingers tightening a little in the roots of your hair. Encouraged by his reaction, you wrap your lips around the pretty pink tip and suckle there. Jake’s stomach muscles tense, his hips making an aborted rocking movement; he only barely manages to hold himself back from shoving his cock right down your throat by sheer force of will.

He lets out a startled laugh, his surprise getting the best of him. “Fuck. Oh shit, you’re hungry for it, aintcha?”

Your cheeks heat, and you pull your mouth off his cock so you can scowl up at him. He’s bigger than you’re used to, so you have to reach up and wipe a trail of drool off your chin thanks to your mouth being stretched so wide.

“Don’t be an asshole,” You whine, narrowing your eyes. “Stop making fun of me.”

“Okay, okay, okay,” He concedes, his hips flexing slightly to bring his cock closer to your face again. “Keep sucking on it, I won’t say another word. Come on, you were doing so well. How much of it can you take?”

He’s playing on your own scientific curiosity, and you hate to say it but it’s working. You don’t know how much of it you can take, but you’re so eager to find out. It doesn’t help that you’re horny; you can feel the tewng Kiri had made for you growing damp where it’s tucked between your legs, and you shift on your knees restlessly. You’re so aroused that you can feel your clit pulsing, and it’s starting to seriously affect your decision-making skills.

You shuffle forward again, and dip your head so you can take his cock into your mouth once more. A quick, nervous glance up at Jake shows that his eyes are all scrunched up, his brow pinched together as his mouth lolls open. You’ve never seen an expression like this on him, and you’re startled by the flood of heat that coils in your belly and between your legs. He likes this – obviously, you’re doing something right. It seems like Na’vi men really aren’t that different to human men, after all.

When you suckle softly at the tip of his cock, your tongue stroking curiously at the underside of the mushroomy tip, a soft rumble of a moan is torn from Jake’s throat. You take that as your cue to take all of him in your mouth as best as you can, giving one more enthusiastic suckle to the tip before swallowing him down. You only get about a quarter of the way down before you have to pull back and try again. Your mouth is stretched obscenely wide around the girth of him, and you swear you can feel the weight of his dick pulsing on your tongue.

“Oh, goddamn.” Jake grunts over your head. His thighs twitch, enclosing around you and keeping you pinned there. He’s so fucking big over you, it feels as though it’s giving you a headrush.

You suck him as best as you can, but your jaw is starting to ache from being hinged so wide. You can barely even manage half of his cock in your mouth, even when you really try. You alternate between stroking his length and suckling on the head of his dick, looking up at him through your watering eyes as you attempt to gauge his reactions. The swell at the base of his cock has engorged even further, and you prod at it curiously with one hand as you work his length with the other. It’s firm but oddly spongey, and everytime you poke at it Jake’s whole cock twitches.

You’re still all caged in by his big thighs bracketing your head and shoulders, breathing heavily through your nose as his cock weighs heavily on your tongue. His hips make the sweetest little aborted rocking motions, like he wants nothing more than to let go but is trying his best to restrain himself for your sake.

But then you suckle at the head, the flat of your tongue dragging over the slit on the tip of his dick in the same motion as you twist your fist around the base of his cock, right where the little swell is. The grunt that’s torn out of Jake’s throat is positively feral, and his hips twitch up to force his fat cock further into your mouth.

It chokes you, and you gag once before blinking up at him with teary eyes. You shoot a panicked look up at him, cheeks bulging and drool overflowing down your chin.

“Oh, Jesus, fuck,” He tosses his head back so he can’t see you, forcing his hips back down to the bed and holding himself very still. “Don’t fucking look at me like that-”

You haul your head back, mouth popping wetly off his cock as you cough. “You nearly fucking suffocated me, dickhead-!”

“Sorry, sorry,” He gasps, his chest heaving as he pets blindly at your hair. “Was my cock too big for you?”

“Ugh,” You slap at the inside of his thigh, making him jolt. “You are actually unbearable–”

Jake just laughs, before leaning forward and wrapping his big hands around your forearms. He uses his grip to pull you up, lifting you right off the ground and onto the bed beside him.

“Jake!” You complain, trying to wiggle your way out of his hands. “I wasn’t finished!”

“You can finish sucking it later, sweetheart,” He grunts, clambering up on the mattress after you, the muscles of his thighs flexing as he crouches over you. “But this isn’t just about me, is it? I promised I’d get you ready, didn’t I?”

“Yeah,” You say in a weak sort of whisper, wiggling a little bit as Jake looms over you. He presses softly on your chest, pushing you to lay on your back beneath him. “Yeah, you did.”

Jake pauses then, his big golden green eyes flicking over your face. Whatever he sees has his expression softening, some of that feral hunger mellowing out as his big hands land on your knees.

“Spread your legs for me,” He whispers, his fingers squeezing lightly around the soft flesh of your thigh. “Nice and wide, come on.”

Your knees drop open without thought, breath catching in your chest. You don’t even have the wherewithal to feel self-conscious before Jake pushes himself down so that his big shoulders are bullying their way between your legs, keeping you all spread out for him. 

Jake reaches for the strings of your tewng, and unties it much more efficiently than you had managed to untie his. You wince a little when he peels it back, cheeks flushing when you feel the way it sticks to your slick, aroused pussy. He laughs softly, before leaning his head against your knee and inhaling deeply.

“Fuck,” He breathes, his eyelids fluttering shut as his nostrils flare. “Oh, shit.”

“Are you fucking smelling me?” You hiss, embarrassment swelling. “Oh god, you’re such a perv, what is wrong with you–”

“Shut up a second,” Jake grunts, wiggling his way closer until his wide, flat nose is pressed right up against you. He inhales again, his chest rumbling as he sniffs at the slickness at your entrance. “Jesus Christ, kid. You’re so wet. Is this all from sucking my cock?”

You close your thighs hard, trying to squeeze his head in revenge. “No! Asshole. You said you could smell me earlier!”

“Yeah,” Jake snorts a laugh, his ears flicking against the soft flesh on the inside of your thighs. He doesn’t seem bothered by the way your thighs are squeezing around his head at all. “I’ve been smelling you for years, sweetheart. It’s all part of being Na’vi. But it’s a little different with my head between your legs.”

You barely even have time to let the whole ‘smelling you for years’ thing sink in before Jake bats at your knees, spreading you wide again. He might not be sniffing at you anymore, but his eyes are wide and sharp and analytical as he holds your thighs open – he’s looking at your cunt thoughtfully, inspecting you.

“Jake,” You complain, trying to wiggle your hips away. “Quit staring-”

“I’m evaluating.” He mumbles, grabbing at your hips to keep you still as he squints at you. His fingers prod at your folds, rubbing over the swollen bump of your clit and humming when you shiver. “Your cunt is small, honey. A Na’vi cock is gonna stretch you real wide.”

His big thumb rolls lazily over your clit, before his face pushes closer. His eyelids flutter as he inhales again, his touches to your clit growing more insistent. It feels good, and you bite at your lip as you watch him work his big fingers on you.

“What if-” You begin, before losing some of your nerve. You force yourself to swallow, and try again. “What if I want to be stretched real wide?”

A beat, and then Jake drops his head with a soft groan. 

“Fuck,” He breathes, hot against the inside of your thigh. “Yeah. We can arrange that, I guess.”

When his fingers trace over your outer lips you jerk, the touch catching you by surprise. The sudden movement causes him to make a rumbling sound in his chest, almost like a warning, and you still. You can feel his breath ghosting over the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, and you shiver just a little when he kisses along your outer lips. It’s the anticipation that’s getting to you more than anything, every nerve firing as you wait for his next touch.

When his middle finger prods at you, you take a breath and hold it. He presses in slowly, the large digit sinking in up to the knuckle. You’re wet and eager and excited, and so it goes relatively easy; even so, one of his fingers is the equivalent to two of yours, and you whine softly at the stretch of it.

“That’s it,” Jake encourages, his spare hand stroking over your thigh. “Aw, look at you. Trembling ‘cause of a single finger–”

You grunt – your irritation with him washes away the pleasant tingly feeling that his thumb rolling over his clit is building. 

“Gimme another,” You demand, leaning your head back against the mattress as you try to push your hips back towards him. “I can take another one.”

“Take it easy, tiger,” He says, his stupid handsome face contorting in a smirk. “You’ll get another when you’re ready.”

“I’m ready now-”

“Shut up,” He grumbles, but he says it with a little chuckle. “Why do you always think you’re right?”

“Because I am always right- oh!” You break off, sucking in a startled breath when Jake’s big mouth encloses over your clit and sucks. 

His tongue is big and wet and rough, and you choke out a pathetic sort of moan, your hips twitching into his mouth. He’s just so good with his tongue, it makes your breath stutter and rattle in your chest. When he sucks at your clit, you sit up on your elbows so that you can watch him. He meets your gaze and throws you a cheeky wink as he laps at you, and you just know that he feels you physically react to it by the way he laughs a little into your cunt.

“Jake,” You wheeze, squeezing your eyes shut. “I– oh, god-”

Irritatingly, he just pulls back a little and laughs. “Can’t believe you had the neck to call me a perv when you get this wet at the thought of a big alien dick splitting you open.”

You draw your leg back to try to kick his head, but it seems like he expects that move from you because he catches your calf with his free hand and tugs it over his shoulder. When he dives back in face first, he laps and sucks at you so eagerly that you fist your hand in his hair reflexively as you twitch against him. All you can do is hang on for dear life as he devotes everything he has to eating you out. 

You’re so distracted by the feeling of him suckling at your cunt that the next finger he presses inside you takes you completely by surprise. Though you had been demanding another finger, the stretch of it stings a little. Two Na’vi fingers feel like the equivalent of a human cock, and you writhe a little, your breath stuttering as you push eagerly into his fingers despite the stretch of it. 

You squeal and your hips buck, but Jake uses the hand that’s not knuckle deep inside of you to press on your hip and pin you down, keeping you still as he suckles at your cunt. 

“Fuck!” You gasp, trying to tilt your hips away from his mouth. It’s too much, too fast, but he holds you still and forces you to take it until you’re trembling in his hands. “Feels – ah! – good.”

“‘Course it does,” He grunts, his mouth twitching into a grin against you. “I told you I’d take care of you, didn’t I?”

He mouths along the lips of your pussy, his teeth grazing and scratching at the sensitive skin just right. You make a noise that sounds embarrassingly close to a sob, and feel Jake grinning into the soft flesh of your pussy.

“Another?” He asks, tilting his head up to look at you. His eyelids flutter up at you, the picture of innocence as though he’s not currently stuffing you full and making you cry around his fingers.

“I don’t–” You start thickly, “I don’t know–”

“That’s okay,” He coos at you. “Leave it up to me, yeah?”

“Yeah,” You say immediately, muscles melting back into the mattress as you give into him. “Yeah, okay.”

“Atta girl,” He hums, ducking his head back down and tracing your folds with his tongue, pulling them into his mouth and suckling. You relax a little, humming your pleasure. But then Jake is digging his tongue into the top of your folds and locating the nub of your clit with absolute precision, and you arch your back with a little scream.

He laughs, because he’s a bastard, but doesn’t so much as pause. He’s relentless, devoting everything he has to your clit. He laps at it, stiffens his tongue to a point and flicks at it, wraps his lips around it again and sucks. When he introduces his teeth and grazes it, you’re gone; your whole body seizes up and you keen as you come, but even then Jake doesn’t pull away. He laps and suckles at you until you’re gasping and writhing from the overstimulation.

You can’t catch your breath after your orgasm because his mouth is still busy with your clit. While your head is still spinning from the pleasant white haze of your orgasm, Jake pushes a third finger into you. The slide is made easier by how slick you’ve gotten, but you still have to bite back the squeal that wants to escape from between your teeth, tossing your head back desperately into the mattress and whining.

Finally, he pulls away from your clit, and you’re able to breathe again.

“Nice,” He breathes, resting his chin on your lower belly and grinning at you as he works his fingers deeper. “Look at you – stretched real wide.”

The entire lower half of his face is wet and shiny from your slick and his own spit, and he looks absolutely obscene as he grins. His tongue pokes out and licks the mess off of his lips, crooking his fingers into the spongey area at the front of your inner walls and snickering as you squeal.

“Jake,” You whimper, turning your face away and nuzzling into the blankets all bunched up by your head. “It’s… it’s so much, it’s too much–”

“Nah, honey, you’re doing fine,” He breathes, reaching out to catch your chin. He pulls your face out of your little shield of blankets so that he can see you properly. “You were right, weren’t you? You can take it, you can take it so well.”

His eyes go half-lidded when he watches you take his fingers. It’s so overwhelming, and yet you spread your legs wider and lift your knees, silently hoping he’ll take it as the invitation that it is and fuck you harder. He complies happily, and the wet, squelching sounds that come from his fingers in your cunt only seem to work Jake up even further.

“Fuck,” Jake grunts, raising himself up on his knees so that he can shuffle further up your body, all hunched over you as his fingers work deeper inside you. “Lift up your top.”

You don’t know what the point of lifting it up would be when the beaded weave of it is all splayed out around your chest, completely baring your tits. You make a face at him, though you’re all sweaty and slack-jawed and you’re pretty sure it doesn’t have the effect you want it to have because Jake’s irises just dilate further.

“Why?” You mumble, humping your hips greedily into his fingers in an attempt to get him touching your clit again.

When you don’t move to adjust your top, he does it for you. He leans over you, shoving the delicate beaded strands up so that your chest is bare and uncovered.

“Let me suck on your tits.” He grunts, lowering his head and wrapping that big, skilled mouth of his around your left breast.

His tongue is rough and hot and wet, and the suction against your nipple is enough to rip a startled gasp right out of your mouth. It feels good, better than you had expected, and you moan as he mouths insistently at your tits.

“You’re like–” You gasp, eyes squeezing tight. “Fuck, you’re like a baby.”

That makes him snicker, though he doesn’t pull back from your breasts.

“Yeah.” He mumbles into your chest. “I’ve heard that one before.”

He presses harsh, biting kisses all along your left tit, his free hand kneading at your other breast like a fucking cat. He nips and sucks along the swell of your breast, leaving little bruises in his mouth’s wake before wrapping his lips around your nipple again and sucking.

“Fuck,” He moans, nuzzling at your chest. “Why didn’t you tell me you had tits like this, huh?” 

The angle of his fingers shifts, and you let out a startled, choked gasp as they press right into that spongey part at the back of your cunt that has your legs shaking. He’s still grunting into your tits as he rubs the pads of his fingers against your insides. His thumb lands on your sensitive, swollen clit and rubs hard, and you nearly cry out as your back bows and you push eagerly into his touch.

“Fuck yes. Arch your back a little more, come on. Look at you going nice and tight around my fingers.” He groans, watching your hips hump against his hand.

“Holy fuck.” You choke, grabbing at the sheets beneath you. It’s too much and not enough, and your hips keep undulating like they can’t decide whether to twitch away from the stimulation or to go back for more.

“Fuck, just look at you riding my hand.” Jake mutters, nipping at your tits once more before pulling back to look down at the way you’re moving into him. “You gonna do that around my cock?”

“Yes,” You wheeze, eyes blowing wide at the thought. “Yes. Are you– are you gonna put it in?”

That makes Jake snicker meanly, which isn’t what you had been expecting. His mouth is so hot and searing against your skin, his fingers working you up slowly and steadily as he works you up. 

“Not yet, honey,” He grunts, “You’re taking it like a champ, but you need a bit more practice, I think.”

Disappointment settles thick and heavy in your stomach, but it doesn’t last too long before it’s washed away by pure liquid pleasure. His fingers feel so good, filling you up so well. It feels like he’s fingerfucking the thoughts right out of your head, eyes rolling back in your head as he insistently rubs at you.

Jake’s mouth closes around your breast again, suckling lazily as his fingers fuck you steadily. Movement catches your eye, and you look down to see that Jake is now fisting his own cock with his free hand. The sight sends an electric little rush straight down your spine, and you arch your back as that sweet heat begins building and tightening in your lower belly.

You’re so aroused that you swear your pussy is twitching, and you’re so close to your own orgasm that you let your impatience get the better of you. Your hips jerk wildly, and you clutch at his shoulders and cry out as his fingers hit that one spot inside you that makes you feel gooey inside. Your eyes are half-closed as you hump your pussy back on Jake’s hand, letting out satisfied little cries as Jake fists and tugs at his cock like a desperate man.

The pleasure sitting in your lower belly is starting to coil tight, and your movements get a little sloppy as you desperately chase your release on Jake’s fingers. The pleasure is so close to cresting when Jake bites down on your breast in the same moment as he presses his fingers in deep as his thumb rolls over your clit. Your nipples are hard and sensitive already from all of Jake’s pawing and sucking at them, so the combination of his biting kisses and the overwhelming way he twists his fingers inside of you makes you think you might actually explode.

It only takes two more hard thrusts of his fingers before you’re tossing your head back and shaking apart with a short little scream, your entire body drawing up tight and tensing so hard that you can hardly see. Jake keeps his fingers moving, his own cock rutting into his other hand as he groans.

It feels like you’re cumming forever, the ecstasy drawn out by Jake’s clever fingers as they drag along your insides and light up every nerve and sweet spot you have. The slick sounds of him working his cock with his fist are mostly drowned out by the soft, breathy moans that you can’t keep quiet. He’s not very good at keeping himself quiet either though; your own ears are pricked up for the quiet, pleasured grunts that fall from his lips as his eyes dart over your face to your chest to the place where his fingers are disappearing inside of you. 

Your clit grows oversensitive, and you wince as you reach to push at his wrist. “Jake–”

He obediently pulls his fingers out of you, leaving you dripping and clenching down on nothing. You hadn’t expected to feel so empty, and you whine in mindless complaint.

“Almost there,” He grunts, gasping wetly as he tugs at his cock. “Push your tits together for me.”

Watching him fall apart between your legs is so compelling, and you watch with wide eyes as he shivers, his ears twitching as his eyebrows creep higher and his mouth falls open. You do as he says without thought, grabbing at your breasts and pushing them together for him. Your head is still fuzzy and stupid, and you watch him with wide, guileless eyes as he moans above you.

Jake’s eyes have gone unfocused as the motion of his hips stutter and falter, but he’s still staring between your legs and at your tits as he fists his cock roughly, far harsher than you were when you were touching him. You watch avidly, your breaths hiccuping eagerly as you watch him twist his fist around the head of his cock.

When his whole body locks up as he strains against his orgasm, his hips spasming wildly, you almost flinch when a jet of hot cum bursts from his dick. The sheer amount of it surprises you, given his much larger size; he makes an absolute mess of you. His cum is a phosphorescent white-blue, glowing softly where it runs in rivulets over your exposed tits and ribs. You stare at it, fascinated, before raising your head to blink at Jake – you notice the swollen part at the base of his cock has deflated almost entirely, to the point that it’s hardly noticeable anymore.

“Shit,” Jake breathes, his chest still heaving. His face is still slack and pleasured, and he rolls to the side so that he can lay out beside you. He’s so big that most of his legs are hanging off your bed, but he still pulls you close to his chest and leaves his arm draped over your waist.

“Oh my god.” You mumble, staring wide-eyed at the ceiling. 

Jake just hums, but you can feel him raise his head up so he can look down at you. His eyes trail over the veritable puddle of cum that he’s sprayed all over your tits and belly, and you can see the way his mouth twitches into a smirk.

“We shouldn’t have done that,” You whisper. Your brain is still slow and sort of stupid, but panic is beginning to seep in now. “Oh god. Fuck, are you sure Neytiri won’t mind?”

Jake snorts a laugh, though it’s a little lethargic. He’s curling himself around you as though he has no intentions of leaving anytime soon, and you hurry to stretch over to grab the CO2 respirator he had tossed lazily on the bedside locker. He takes it when you shove it at him and takes a lazy sip of air, before tossing it aside once more so that he can press his face into your throat and inhale.

“It was her idea,” He says, his voice a little muffled in your neck. “So no, she ain’t gonna mind.”

“It was her…” You start to repeat, your brain grappling wildly with that idea. It seems spectacularly unlikely, yet Jake isn’t the type to lie about something like that. But why on earth would his wife encourage him to do something like that?

As if he had heard your unspoken question, Jake sighs into your neck. “Why’re you surprised she’s worried about you? Didn’t I tell you before that we’d look after you, huh?”

That actually ignites a warm feeling of butterflies in your belly, and you bite on your lip to hide a smile. Oh, you have no idea how you’ve managed to get so lucky with your friends.

“I should shower,” You sigh, glancing down at the sticky mess he’s left all over you.

Jake’s arms tighten around you as if it’s a reflex reaction, except then he doesn’t let go. “Nah. Leave it. We can shower in the morning.”

“I’m gross,” You complain, wrinkling your nose as you reach for an old t-shirt that’s crumpled up by your pillow to wipe away the worst of the cum. The second part of what he had just said registers with you a moment later, and you glance up at him in surprise. “You’re staying the night?”

“Mmph.” Jake groans, tugging you closer again. He’s so goddamn big and overbearing that you can’t wrestle him off you, so you end up going limp and defeated in his arms. “Good fuckin’ luck tryin’ to move me.”

“Dick,” You grumble, but your own eyes are beginning to sleepily slide shut too. “I’m pretty sure I stink right now.”

There’s a pause, and then a wet, rough sensation on your throat. Your eyes fly open as you screech, arms windmilling to slap at his head.

“Are you licking me–”

“Taste fine,” He mumbles, before tugging you closer and yawning. “Taste like me.”

That leaves you genuinely speechless. How the fuck are you even supposed to react to that? At a loss, you end up just laying there gaping at the ceiling on your tiny, pathetic little bunk that’s currently creaking dangerously under the weight of your big stupid friend as he starts to snuffle sleepily beside you. If he hadn’t just given you the best orgasm you’ve had in years, you might be a little more annoyed.

You’ve just begun to think that Jake must have fallen asleep when he shifts, his tail coming up to curl lazily around your thigh. It seems almost like a subconscious gesture, except that his fingers chase after it, leaving soft trails of heat in their path.

“Next time,” He mumbles, his voice low and gravelly as he slips towards sleep, “Wear your sexy little panties.”

You tilt your head back to look up at him, hardly daring to breathe. “Next time?”

Jake blinks those pretty golden green eyes open just so he can peer sleepily down at you. Even half-asleep, he manages to bare his teeth at you in a grin; it’s infuriating how good he looks even when drowsy.