izuku letting katsuki fuck his girlfriend ⭑.ᐟ mdni ᭝ threesome, unprotected p in v, creampie, brief cum play, lots of praise from izuku in the cuck chair
your cheek's pressed into the sheets, hands fisting in the fabric as katsuki fucks into you from behind. low grunts under his breath, jaw tight, pace relentless. his hands are rough on your hips, dragging you back into each thrust, hard enough so you feel every inch, every grind, every low, deep press of his cock as he fucks into that same aching spot over and over again.
izuku's curled close, lying on his side just... watching. one hand resting light on your thigh, the other tucked under his head, soft eyes flicking between your face and down to where katsuki's cock keeps disappearing into you.
"you're taking him so well," he murmurs, thumb brushing a little higher, just grazing the edge of your ass, the curve of your hip. his voice is soft, too soft for how filthy it makes you feel. "look at you, angel... you're so full, he's stretching you out so pretty."
you nod meekly, eyes glinting as a sharp gasp slips past your lips when katsuki fucks into you harder, as if he's punishing you for forgetting who's inside you.
izuku hums, dark eyes flicking to katsuki's before returning to yours, smiling. "i know, sweetheart... it's too much, huh?"
katsuki growls low behind you. a quiet, "shut the fuck up," as he slides a hand up to the back of your neck, palm warm against your skin as he presses in so deep you let out a choked, ah— katsuki
"that's it," izuku coos, completely unfazed. "just breathe through it. you're doing so good."
his hand smooths up your back, soothing and warm like he's trying to calm you down while he let's katsuki fuck you stupid right in front of him. like he's not hard under his sweats, cock pressed tight, precum spotting the fabric as he bites the inside of his cheek every time you moan.
"he's so mean, isn't he?" izuku murmurs, low near your ear. "but he always gives you exactly what you need. you should say thank you, baby," he encourages, lips pressing to the side of your neck. "go on, tell kacchan how thankful you are."
katsuki's cock twitches inside you with every word as you stutter out a quiet "t-thank you."
he lets out a curse under his breath as he drags his cock out, eyes focused on your slick coating him before he slams back in—hips flush to yours.
"you're gonna make him cum," izuku says sweetly, sliding one hand down between your thighs, fingers gentle and warm as they dip past where katsuki's cock is still fucking into you, slow just for a moment so neither of them miss the way you jerk when izuku touches you there—firm pressure pressing into you, brushing past katsuki's cock where it's stretching you out, slick and messy and so tender it makes you cry out.
"that's it," izuku murmurs, thumb catching right over your clit, a teasing flick, "there you go. we've got you."
katsuki groans as he lifts your hips a little more to angle deeper. "shit—" he bites out, "she's squeezin' me so tight."
you sob into the sheets. izuku's hand doesn't let up, while katsuki's pace stutters hard, hips snapping into you.
"keep talkin' to her like that, she's gonna cum. can feel it... keeps clenching every time you talk." katsuki mutters, eyes fixated on his cock glistening every time he pulls back just to hear you beg for more.
izuku just hums, "she wants to," he says, his own fingers coated in your slick as they keep moving slow against your clit now. "she's being so good for you kacchan. letting you fuck her that deep, letting me touch— being so brave, don't you think?"
katsuki drags you back onto him, hard, and it knocks a broken little sob out of your chest. "you hear that, baby?" katsuki grits, leaning in, mouth hot against your spine. "you're our good fuckin' girl, yeah?"
"y-yeah," you gasp, voice trembling as izuku presses a little firmer against your clit. "wanna be good for you both..."
"we know, sweetheart," izuku coos, soft and breathless, curling a little closer to you, nose bumping into your cheek as he presses soft kisses there. "you're doing so good. we know it's a lot."
"is it too much for you?" katsuki mumbles, pressing his own lips against your skin, "or you just like whinin' for us?"
you shake your head fast, fingers fisting tighter into the sheets, "no! don't stop, please... i-i'm gonna—"
"yeah?" he growls, fucking you through it harder. "you gonna cum all over my cock, baby? gonna let me feel it?"
"she's right there," izuku whispers beside you. "let it happen. we've got you."
it hits hard—blinding heat sparking deep and low as your body goes rigid, pussy clenching around katsuki so hard he swears, stutters, and slams in once, choking on a groan as he cums with you.
"fuck— i'm cummin'—" katsuki gasps, forehead dropping to your shoulder as his hips twitch, cock pressing deep and grinding through it as he spills into you in warm thick pulses.
izuku hums beside you, his fingers wet with your release coming up to stroke your thigh, before pressing a kiss to your temple and muttering, "that's it... that's our girl."
katsuki's grip trembles against your hips when he exhales against your skin. chest rising and falling against your back, hands smoothing up and down your sides before he pulls out.
still braced as he drags his cock free—covered in your release, flushed, and still twitching a little. he watches the way your pussy flutters from the loss. watches how wet and ruined you are. how his cum spills out of you, dripping past your thighs and pooling where your legs are still spread.
"fuckin' hell..." katsuki mutters, fingers reaching down to drag through the mess, smiling when your body twitches from the sensitivity.
izuku's fingers are still brushing lightly over your skin. "she looks pretty, huh?"
you try to hide your face in the sheets, body still too shaky to move, still panting—and izuku leans in to press another gentle kiss to your cheek, "did so good for us," he whispers.
"too good," katsuki mutters, rubbing a hand over your ass and squeezing gently, watching another thick drip slide down and groaning under his breath. "fuck, look at this mess..."
your body twitches again at the roughness in his voice, involuntarily, over-sensitive, and izuku just watches it happen—eyes dragging slow between your thighs where katsuki's cum still glistens across your pussy and drips out of you in lazy trails.
he hums, thoughtfully. before shifting closer. lowering himself a little. hands gentle as they slide over your thighs to ease them apart again, despite the way they tremble in protest. despite the soft noise you make when the cool air hits.
katsuki catches the movement from the corner of his eyes and snorts, still breathless, "you're such a fuckin' perv."
izuku just smiles, pretty and flushed and way too focused on the mess. "mhmm," he hums, breath ghosting low, just before he leans in, "i'm just cleaning it up."
you barely have time to register the first warm press of his tongue—slow and gentle, licking a stripe through the slick mess between your thighs of both yours and his best friends' release, the tip of his tongue brushing your clit—before he hums low in his throat, hands tightening around your hips like he's settling in, like he's not stopping until there's nothing left.
a/n a repost from my old & inactive blog eikyuunimain (mariinktg) so if it looks familiar, that's why! likes and reblogs are much appreciated! | mha masterlist
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The royal dining room smelled like braised komodo chicken, warm spices, and impending chaos. That last ingredient was entirely Sokka’s fault.
He had arrived two days ago under the very reasonable pretense of a “diplomatic visit,” which everyone in the palace understood to mean he had eaten all the sea prunes in the South Pole and needed a change of scenery. He had immediately made himself at home in the most aggressively Sokka way possible—reorganizing the palace kitchen’s meat storage, loudly critiquing the royal chefs’ spice choices, and staging what he called a “cultural exchange” that mostly involved teaching three Imperial Guards how to play Pai Sho wrong.
Zuko was handling it with the strained, tight-jawed dignity of a man who genuinely loved his brother-in-arms and also, genuinely, desperately wished he would go home.
You, on the other hand, were having the time of your life.
“The problem,” Sokka announced, gesturing with his chopsticks at nobody in particular, “is that Fire Nation desserts don’t hit right. Too much spice. Not enough—I don’t know—comfort.”
“They’re not supposed to be comfortable,” Zuko said flatly, not looking up from his bowl. “They’re supposed to be refined.”
“Refined.” Sokka repeated it like a curse word. He looked at you across the wide lacquered table. “Y/N, back me up. You’ve eaten in the North. You know what a good dessert tastes like.”
“I’m staying out of this,” you said serenely, pouring yourself a cup of jasmine tea.
“Smart woman.” Zuko reached for his own tea.
“Traitor,” Sokka said to you, but his tone was fond. He jabbed his chopsticks toward the small porcelain dish near the center of the table. It was a delicate Fire Nation layered cake, dark red bean paste between thin sheets of honey sponge, dusted with powdered cinnamon. “I’ll admit, though. That thing looks dangerous. In a good way.”
“It’s yuèbing-style,” you said, leaning forward slightly to inspect it. “Fire Nation adaptation. They bake it with dragon fruit reduction instead of lotus paste.”
Sokka’s eyes lit up with the specific enthusiasm he reserved for food and battle strategy. “Okay. Okay, that sounds incredible, actually—”
“It is,” you confirmed. You picked up a small serving spoon, cut a neat portion, and held it out. Not toward Sokka, but toward the man sitting directly to your left.
Zuko stiffened.
It was a nearly imperceptible thing. A millimeter of tension across his broad shoulders, a slight sharpening of his gaze as it dropped to the spoon now hovering in the space between you. The cake sat there, perfectly portioned, an earnest little offering from his fiancée.
He looked at it. He looked at Sokka, who was watching the exchange with the focused, calculating attention of a man who had once tracked a sea serpent across open water for three days on a bet.
Zuko looked back at the spoon.
“I have my own utensils,” he said.
You blinked. “I know. I’m offering you mine.”
“I can feed myself.”
“Zuko—”
“I’m twenty-eight years old.”
The silence that followed was exquisite. You held his gaze for one long beat. He held it back, expression perfectly composed, jaw set at the precise angle you had privately catalogued as his I am the Fire Lord and I am not flustered, what are you talking about, I am completely fine angle.
You lowered the spoon.
Across the table, Sokka made a sound that wasn’t quite a cough and wasn’t quite a laugh, but existed somewhere in the loaded territory between them. You caught his eye.
Something passed between you. It was wordless, instantaneous, and absolutely damning. It was the specific telepathy that develops between two people who both find the same man endearing in his mortifying stubbornness.
You looked back down at the spoon in your hand. Then, with the serene composure of someone who had absolutely no ulterior motive whatsoever, you turned slightly in your seat and extended the spoon across the table toward Sokka instead.
“Sokka,” you said pleasantly. “Do you want to try it?”
Sokka’s expression went from conspiratorial delight to the studied, innocent blankness of a seasoned chaos agent. He straightened in his seat. He placed a solemn hand over his heart.
“I,” he said gravely, “would be honored.”
He leaned forward. He accepted the spoon. He closed his eyes as he tasted it with the theatrical reverence of a man experiencing a religious event, and then he let out a low, appreciative groan that was at least forty percent louder than necessary.
“Oh,” Sokka breathed. “Oh, that’s—Y/N. Y/N, this is the best thing I’ve ever eaten.”
“Isn’t it?” you agreed warmly.
“I might have to move into the Fire Nation palace permanently.”
“We have a lovely east wing.”
“Perfect. I’ll take it.”
The temperature in the dining room had been climbing for approximately twelve seconds. You felt it before you looked. It was the specific, simmering heat that radiated off Zuko when his composure was being tested. The barely-leashed inner fire usually only made itself known when he was in the middle of a council session gone wrong, or when his fiancée had just deliberately fed another man dessert right in front of him.
You looked.
Zuko was staring at Sokka with an expression so flat and so incinerating it could have stripped paint from the walls.
Sokka, to his eternal credit, met that stare with the breezy, untroubled grin of a man who had survived a war and therefore had genuinely recalibrated his fear threshold. He set the spoon down on the table between you with a small, precise click.
“I mean,” Sokka said, in the tone of someone making a completely reasonable observation, “you did turn it down.”
You pressed your lips together very hard.
“You specifically said,” you added, with perfect innocence, “that you could feed yourself.”
Zuko turned to look at you. The flat expression had not moved. If anything, it had intensified. His golden eyes tracked from your face to the spoon to Sokka’s deeply satisfied expression and back to your face again, and you watched the precise moment he decided he was not going to dignify this with a response.
He reached across the table. He picked up the spoon. He cut himself a portion of the cake with the silent, deliberate calm of a man who was certainly not bothered. He ate it. He set the spoon down.
“It’s fine,” he said.
“Just fine?” Sokka asked.
“It’s cake, Sokka.”
“Y/N said it was incredible—”
“The conversation,” Zuko said, with a finality that had once ended full council meetings, “is over.”
You and Sokka thought it was funny.
Well. Your little prank is not so funny now.
Because right now, you are in the Fire Lord’s private chambers, stripped bare and face-down across his lap with the heavy silk sheets bunched uselessly beneath your palms, rapidly revising your opinion of the entire spoon incident.
He had been very calm about it. That was the most unnerving part. No raised voice, no dramatic declaration. Just the quiet deliberate efficiency of a man with a point to make and absolutely no intention of rushing. He walked you through the mahogany doors, turned the lock, sat down on the edge of the mattress, and looked at you. That was all it took. One look, and here you were: his large calloused hand resting light and warm at the small of your back, the blistering heat of his thighs radiating straight through your bare skin, the horrible charged anticipation of waiting.
“You thought that was funny,” he said. Not a question. His voice was low, that gravelly unhurried register that did something catastrophic to your better judgment.
“A little,” you admitted, into the sheets.
His hand lifted. It came down with a sharp deliberate crack across the curve of your backside, and the sound that tore out of you was not dignified in any conceivable way.
“Zuko—”
“A little.” He repeated it perfectly even. His palm smoothed immediately over the sting, the scorching heat of his hand pressing into the bloom of warmth he had left behind. Your whole body clenched involuntarily at the contrast, the sharp bite of it dissolving almost instantly into a spreading maddening heat that pooled low and heavy in your core. “We’ll revisit that.”
He did it again. And again. Slow and measured, with that ruthless patience he applied to absolutely everything—council sessions, fire katas, and the systematic dismantling of your composure. Each strike was followed by the same soothing pass of his palm, his thumb tracing the flushed curve of your skin almost tenderly, and the combination of it was genuinely unhinged. Your fingers twisted into the silk. Your hips rolled without your permission. You heard the low dark exhale that came from him in response.
That was the thing about him. Zuko’s jealousy was a quiet, suffocating weight. He operated with the exact same obsessive, single-minded intensity that had once driven him across the globe for three years. Now, all of that relentless focus was trapped inside this room, directed entirely at stripping away your composure until you remembered exactly who claimed you.
You supposed that’s just how Fire Lord Zuko is. The jealous type.
By the time he finally stilled his hand, your skin was flushed a vivid burning pink, radiating its own warmth, every trace of your natural waterbender’s cold chased clean out of you. Your breathing was a wreck. The sheets beneath your palms were damp from the faint frost that had spiked off your overwhelmed skin and melted instantly against the furnace heat of his thighs.
“There,” Zuko murmured, his hand resting warm and still against your lower back. His voice had dropped into something quieter. Not soft exactly, but settled. Certain. “There you are.”
What came after was not gentle, and it was not quick.
He put you on all fours. His hands were sure and unhurried as he arranged you exactly where he wanted you, and the first stroke of his cock splitting you open dragged a completely ruined sound out of your throat that you felt no shame about whatsoever. He was thick and devastating at this angle, every thrust bottoming out so deep you felt it behind your navel, his hips snapping into the still-flushed spanked curve of your ass with a sharp filthy sound that filled the entire chamber. His long dark hair had come loose from its tie and fell around his face as he leaned over you, the ends brushing your spine, and even half-wrecked as you were the sight of him in your peripheral vision made it worse—that sharp jaw locked tight, those golden eyes dark with focus, the broad scarred expanse of his chest sheened faintly with exertion, lean muscle shifting with every drive of his hips.
He fucked you thoroughly. Properly. Deep hard strokes at a pace that left you completely incoherent, your arms trembling, your face pressing into the pillow as your own voice became entirely unrecognizable to you. Tears tracked silently down your cheeks, the bright overwhelmed kind that had nothing to do with pain and everything to do with the total dissolution of every last piece of your composure. You came with a broken sob muffled into the silk, clenching hard around him, and he followed close after with a low wrecked groan pressed between your shoulder blades, his hands gripping your hips so tight you’d feel it tomorrow.
For a moment, you both just breathed.
Then he drew you up.
He positioned you with those large certain hands, your back against his chest, his legs bracketing yours, the scorching wall of him solid at your spine. You were facing the mirror at the foot of the bed. You understood immediately, completely, why it was where it was.
You looked absolutely catastrophic. Your hair was a total wreck, dark strands plastered to your flushed tear-damp cheeks. Your lips were swollen. Your eyes were glassy, pupils blown wide, the look of someone who had been thoroughly taken apart and hadn’t been put back together yet. Your cool skin was flushed with heat and steaming faintly where it pressed against the blistering heat of his chest, the fire-and-ice contrast rendered almost obscene in the amber glow of the hearth.
And then there was Zuko behind you, which was a genuinely unfair thing to have to look at in this particular state. His dark hair was fully loose now, falling in thick dishevelled waves past his jaw and brushing his scarred collarbone. His chest was bare, broad and heavily muscled with the lean hard lines of a man who had trained every day of his life, old battle scars mapping his torso in silver and pale gold. His jaw was tight, a muscle feathering in his scarred cheek. His golden eyes burned steady in the low firelight, fixed entirely on you. He looked like something forged from fire and focused want. You looked like you’d been hit by a wave and hadn’t surfaced yet.
The contrast was genuinely criminal.
His chin hooked over your shoulder. His golden eyes found yours in the glass and held.
“Don’t look away, princess,” he said quietly.
His hand slid down your stomach.
You were already so sensitized that when his fingers found your clit, your whole body jolted on pure reflex. His other arm banded across your ribs immediately, dragging you back flush against him, keeping you exactly and inescapably in place.
“Zuko—” His name fractured in your throat. “I can’t, I’m already—”
“I know,” he said. He didn’t stop.
His fingers worked your clit in tight relentless circles, the direct pressure against something so oversensitized from everything before that every stroke felt like too much and not enough at the same time. His other hand slid up to cup your left breast, squeezing the soft weight of it before his fingers found your nipple and pinched, sharp enough to make you gasp and clench and dig your nails into his forearm hard enough to leave marks.
“Look at the mirror,” he said against your ear.
You looked. You wished briefly that you hadn’t. Your face was a complete disaster, mouth open, eyes wet, cheeks scarlet, expression stripped down to pure sensation with nothing held back at all. The image of you coming apart while he remained so devastatingly composed behind you, his dark eyes tracking your every reaction with that consuming focused attention, was enough to make your thighs shake all over again.
His fingers tightened on your nipple, a rolling pinch that sent a sharp spike straight down to your already screaming clit. Then the hand at your core shifted, two fingers curling inside you while his thumb flicked directly over your swollen bud, and you actually sobbed. Loud and undignified and completely beyond caring.
“Still think it was funny?” he murmured against your ear, low and dark and almost conversational. His fingers never lost their rhythm for a single second.
You opened your mouth. You were going to say a little. You had fully intended to say a little, purely on principle, right up until his thumb pressed down firm and his fingers curled deeper and his other hand delivered one sharp stinging flick directly to your clit. Your entire spine arced off his chest.
What came out instead was his name. Just his name, over and over, increasingly incoherent.
“That’s what I thought,” he said, low and rough against your temple.
The orgasm hit so hard your vision went white at the edges, your whole body shaking, thighs clamping shut around his hand. His arm was the only thing keeping you from sliding completely off the mattress. He worked you through every convulsing shuddering second of it without mercy, fingers pumping steadily through the clench of your walls, thumb drawing slow circles over your hypersensitive clit until the sounds you were making were mostly just breath and the occasional broken fragment of please.
He finally, mercifully, stilled.
The room was very quiet. The hearth crackled. Your chest heaved. His chin was still hooked over your shoulder and in the mirror his expression had shifted into something quieter. Still dark, still certain, but underneath it the faintest trace of the thing he could never quite say out loud in dining rooms and corridors. The thing that only ever came out like this.
A thin curl of steam rose where your sweat-damp skin pressed against the furnace of his chest. The hearth fire guttered once, sympathetically.
He lowered you both down onto the mattress slowly, tucking you against his chest the same way he always did, with that quiet absolute possessiveness, like the decision had been made a long time ago and he had no interest in revisiting it. His hand settled heavy and warm at the curve of your waist. His thumb began its slow idle circle.
You lay there completely and entirely destroyed, listening to his heartbeat gradually decelerate against your cheek. The burn of him had faded from overwhelming to something grounding, a steady bone-deep warmth seeping into places the cold had lived for years.
“For the record,” you said, into the quiet.
“Mm.”
“You could have just eaten the cake.”
A beat. Then, low and dry, his voice rumbling against your cheek. “I’m aware of that.”
“Would have been easier.”
“I said I’m aware, princess.”
You smiled against his skin. “I’m just saying. For future reference. If I offer you a spoon—”
“I’ll take the spoon.”
“Good.”
“Don’t test me again.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” you murmured, partially lying as you pressed a soft kiss to the scar over his eye.
prologue ⧽ read more
this is actually a bonus chapter from the main ‘sublimation’ universe ;)
🏁 pit stop ! 𖦹 exhuastion settles in his bones after a long day's work. guilt overtakes yours after missing him for hours. what happens when you combine a sleepy katsuki bakugou with his needy, preciously insatiable girlfriend? (6K)
🏁 safety car ! ⋆ not safe for work ⋆ smut ⋆ eighteen plus only. pro hero au, canon compliant, established relationships, i wrote this b4 christmas so... christmas movie mention, soft dom n sub dynamics, sleepy sex, clothed sex, dry humping, pussy jobs, praise kink, cum play, i luv u ariana grande. pro hero bakugou, quirkless & fem reader.
🏁 team radio ! ⋆ anyway... another kacchan fic but it's just six thousand words of grinding on himb... do what u will with that. i love himb smmm !! hope u guys like! click for more.
exhaustion weaves between each of the bones that form katsuki’s ribcage and settles between every breath he takes from there. he’s only just come home, just barely been able to strip his professional pro hero outer-layer and become the version of himself that you get to keep a secret.
no one knows the katsuki bakugou that likes a shitty hallmark christmas movies and wears matching hello kitty pyjama pants just because you asked. the bakugou who practically purrs at the feeling of your fingers raking through his hair or drawing soothing shapes at the center of his chest. the bakugou who’s content to be kissed and coddled and loved up on by you, in the privacy and safety of your home.
you’re snuggled up together on the couch, katsuki’s back tacking against black leather that squeaks with every move and an arm slung lazily over your waist — heavy and warm in a way that makes you feel guarded or protected, giving you the room to feel small. occasionally, his thumb grazes that little slither of skin between your waistband and the hem of your tank top — circling it, reminding you that he’s there. looking up at the blonde through your lashes, head resting on the steady rise and fall of his chest, you can tell that he’s tired. worn out from all the work and patrols during the lead up to christmas. it’s weighs on his features, pulls his bottom lip into a resting frown and makes his eyes flutter as he tries to fight off sleep, keeping his blurring gaze on the movie flickering across the flatscreen TV.
at least he’s off now. at least he has time to rest.
except your brain can’t rest.
it’s been going a mile a minute since your boyfriend came home, his sugary-sweaty-caramel-like scent and the way he’s clung to you all evening has driven you completely up the wall. you want him more than you allow your body to let on, more than just the domesticity of the cosy scene playing out between the two of you right now — but you know that katsuki’s exhausted, too tired to speak or to move or to do anything except lay here with the comforting presence of you on top of him.
he makes a quiet noise, a low groan that shoots straight to your core, when he shifts to feel more relaxed — bending his leg at the knee so there’s more room for you to lie between them. the feeling is almost like a knife or a gunshot wound, what with all of him pressed up against your middle.
you exhale through your nose and the heated circles he draws into the dip at the base of your spine pick up — hotter, smoother, longer as if he’s dragging them out. the kind of gesture that lets you know he’s still there, even when he’s drifting off.
“you okay?” bakugou’s deep, gravelly voice layers thick over the noise of the film in the background and causes a twinge in your stomach that you know you can’t rid without his help. his ruby eyes that are always so intense and inquisitive, tick away from the movie and down to you — soft around the edges with intention. he cares.
so you nod, play pretend like your mind isn’t unravelling before him, and smile shy. “‘m okay,” your head tilts until your chin rests square on his chest. “just missed you today. glad you’re home.”
“fuckin’ cute,” he tuts tenderly before he lifts a hand, tenderly squishing your cheeks between dexterous and rough-paced fingers. you try not to think about how they feel and how large his hand is too much. “tell me about your week.”
you answer him because it provides welcome distraction from the early sparks of lust streaking their way down the length of your spine. little nothings about your week escape your frenzied stream of consciousness despite the way you lounge against your offensively attractive pro hero boyfriend. you note the coffee a stranger brought for you on monday, passing on the good vibes, and the elderly couple seated across from you at the Italian restaurant where you had your team christmas work lunch on thursday — and all the little details in between.
all the while, katsuki listens despite the show dancing across the screen not too far away. he smiles at the excitement in your tone as you recount each tale, squeezes you close when you yawn mid sentence and nods attentively here and there. he’s present in all the tiny ways that let you know he really does care.
but then you’re halfway through a story about how your coworker’s lunch ( an unfortunate beetroot casserole ) exploded in her bag on the commute into work — your wonderful, sweet, sleepy boyfriend messes up. well, to you. he’s messed up. fucked it all to hell and back, because in the world where his hand innocently slips lower, cascading down to grip your waist and no longer making cute shapes — you interpret it as him out to get you. out to make you melt like butter in a hot cast iron pan.
fingertips are rough, calloused and hot against the doughy flesh at your hips — sinking into your skin not enough to leave a mark, but enough to remind you that he’s there. still listening even as reality fades away from him and the siren’s song of sleep calls his name. your breath must’ve hitched or paused or stopped because when your brain finally reconnects to its stem — the pretty blonde beneath you has a brow raised and bleary eyes hard set on you.
“baby?”
freezing in place, you squeak. “hm?”
“you were sayin’?” comes his careful and curious reply. “promise i was listening, just fuckin’ tired tonight.”
another unfortunate thing is that katsuki’s voice turns sexy when he’s sleepy, like hot honey that runs through your ears and heats you up until you’re as hot as the center of the earth. it’s got the kind of grit that tells you he’s been hard at work, protecting people and keeping the city safe, the kind of cadence that’s sharp around the edges and stings between your thighs where you’re unable to rub them together.
immense guilt clings to the words that die gracefully in the bottom of your throat, because you know you can’t ask your pro hero boyfriend to fuck you after a twelve hour shift — just because his sleepy voice turns you on. it’s stupid and embarrassing and you really do try your best to shake it off before he can catch on.
“i forgot,” is the excuse you settle with, wincing at how flimsy it is and how damp your panties have gotten from the lazy look of confusion bakugou casts your way. pink plush lips curving into a frown, thick brows furrowed, vermillion eyes seeing right through you. god, he’s sexy. “let’s just watch the movie—”
“alright, ‘m callin’ bull. what’s gotten into you?” bakugou, obviously, isn’t satisfied with your answer and reaches over to pause the flick on the tv — shifting all of his ( or what’s left of it ) focus to you, concern weaving its way between the burgundy-brownish flecks in his pretty eyes. “you and i both know we haven’t been watchin’ shit. you’ve been jumpy all night too. you sure you’re good? nothin’ happened at work?”
katsuki’s a digger, a fixer. he won’t stop pestering until the problem’s solved and you can smile again — the issue at hand is so fickle and stupid, it makes you squirm hotly with embarrassment knowing you’ve caused all this fuss by being too horny when your boyfriend is completely drained. “nothing happened!” the pitch of your voice skyrockets lamely, bakugou’s tired face twitching at the highness.
so he switches tactics and squeezes you where his large, perfectly veiny hands meet the soft skin of your hips — his head tilts like a curious puppy and he blinks, slow, sexy in a way that makes you actually physically pulse with need. “sweetness,” his voice falls by an octave. deep and velvety and caked in warning — prodding and poking the butterflies in your tummy just enough to send them into a frenzy. “come on, talk t’me.”
you can’t help it. not when he talks like that. touches you like you might fall to pieces from the pressure. “suki.” pushing your lips into an instinctive pout, a whine escapes its shackles from behind your teeth, where the shy sound lies imprisoned against your tongue.
“oh.”
yeah. oh.
he’s used to pet names from you. it’s katsuki when you’re mad, kacchan to tease him or be annoying, baby in the mornings when he wakes up at the crack ass of dawn for a run and tries to bring you with him, kats on a day to day basis — like a secret that’s yours and no one else has. but suki. in the past, you’ve only ever called him suki when you’re wanting something, wanting him. when you’re too timid to tell him what you really need or how he can help the slight ache that builds below the surface — a place that only he can soothe or reach.
“ah, i see. poor little baby’s feelin’ needy, huh?” you see his face, the knowing smirk that stretches into his smile lines, it burns at your nerve endings before you can even realise and stirs the pot of lust simmering deep within. he knows you a little too well for your liking, just what to say and how to say it — easing the wild landscape of your mind and turning you into that sweet, pliant little thing he loves so much. katsuki makes it easy to forget, natural to be good.
your only form of retaliation is to swat at bakugou’s chest. “don’t!”
“‘m not doing anything, i swear,” comes his low and breathless purr, the sound vibrating through his chest and straight down to your core that grows slick just from hearing him. instinctively, the two of you shift — bakugou moving down further on the couch with his back to the arm rest, you shuffling upwards until your shaky thighs can bracket his hips. you lean forward, chest to chest, and tuck your heated face into his neck. as the weight of you settles over him, comforting and familiar and warm, the blonde exhales shallowly. as if he’s working himself up to this, hands carefully dancing up and down your supple sides whilst his fingertips press into you a little more feverishly. “so fuckin’ needy ‘n for what. fuckin’ shit, too damn tired for this.”
katauki’s golden lashes tickle your forehead as his eyes flutter shut in exhaustion. his body sinking deeper into the leather. you nearly shrink back, afraid of pushing him too far. “suki, you don’t have to—”
“hey, hey. said ‘m tired. not dead or fuckin’ senile.” even though he curses, there’s no malice in the bass of your boyfriend’s voice. in fact, he’s more amused — chucking fondly against you instead. “c’mere, get comfy. wanna taste you.”
with a gentle thumb and forefinger, bakugou tilts your chin upwards and angles his head down to kiss you. at first, it’s languid and slow enough to set your nervous system alight, he doesn’t ask when his tongue presses against the seam of your lips — because he knows you’ll open up on command, slipping the pink muscle into the sweltering and wet warmth of your mouth. drool instantly pools over your own tongue, turning the kiss syrupy as he licks into you and his hand shifts upwards to cup the back of your head.
he lets you take over, swallow him whole and take what you need to pacify the needy ache bouncing around from your heart to your brain. it’s a little sticky and clumsy from where katsuki is too tired to keep it clean and coordinated, but neither of you mind much — melting into one another to form a union. he’s happy enough to taste the want in your mouth and the pitiful pleas that start to bubble up on your lips.
“atta girl, take whatever you want. i got you, sweetheart,” he lets out a broken groan between the sloppy exchange of kisses — pleased and prideful when your hips start to grind down on him hungry but shy. his cock kicks to life underneath you, nudging your clothed mound through layers of pretty pink hello kitty sweatpants. “been wanting this, huh? waiting for me to take care of you just how you need?” he continues soft, yet dominant — your core starts to flutter at the intonation, arousal clinging to your folds and soaking through the seat of your panties.
a hiccup forms in the rhythm of your breathing as katsuki lets his paws wander in a deliberate pathway down to your waistband. his fingers slip past the elastic and push further down to grope your ass through the material — massaging their soft globes. “whaddya wanna do, baby?” the blonde coos with his breath hot on your wet lips, fingernails raking over your damp underwear. “wanna ride me like this? hump my cock till your pretty clothes are soaked through? tell me, wanna help you…”
his speech grows slurred and angsty like he can’t wait to get a real look at you falling apart, it’d be like a shot of caffeine to his nervous system too. you know he expects you to answer, even through his quiet fatigue — katsuki’s dominance reins strong. he trains your body to reply, letting go of your ass cheek and using his now free hand to rub your wet pussy from behind. deliberate, clumsy circles fall on your clit from over your underwear and alternate between speeds just to pull some whiney noises from you.
“suki, suki—!” you cry out, face hot beneath the skin as you instinctively buck back against his hand — jolting over his growing bulge. “want this. i-i can cum like this.
“fuck, you’re so cute and so fucking wet for me,” bakugou slaps his hand down on your quivering, empty cunt from behind — the force restricted by your sweatpants. a sticky clap resounds throughout the living room and makes you shake from embarrassment and anticipation. “can you take these off for me? i wanna see you, sweetness.”
you do as you’re told, briefly pulling away from your sweltering heap of limbs to kick off your bottoms — leaving you half exposed in your underwear. this gives the blonde just enough time to push his own down, tucking the elastic waistband underneath his bare, heavy balls.
bakugou lies flat on the couch, reaching for you then “come sit,” he instructs simply and smiles mellowly, proudly, when you shuffle on your knees, straddling him once more. his muscular arms welcome you home to him, smoothing over every inch of your skin — the parts you love and the parts you sometimes hate, appreciating you like a man who knows he’s got it good. you tingle wherever his fingertips lie, miss them all too much when he moves on from a particular spot but most importantly — you feel adored, loved because even though he’s been worn down by the world, katsuki takes the time to treat you tenderly.
swiftly, he pulls your soiled panties to the side and tucks the crotch behind one of your swollen folds — the two of you then share hushed moans as your sexes come into contact again. now with a little less fabric, naked and syrupy against each other. his cock is as pretty as always — bright red and blistering hot at the tip with thick, creamy precum oozing from the tip and pooling at his belly button ( now visible due to where his shirt has risen up ). perfect purple veins spiral down the meat of his shaft, pulsing from where it peeks out from his absurdly pink sweats. there’s enough of him in your line of sight to make you drool from two places.
“god, look at that, baby,” humming faintly under his breath, bakugou reaches down between your parted thighs with a thumb to spread your pussy over his length — exposing you to sleepy, sinful eyes. “perfect pussy, all fuckin’ mine.” his chest rumbles like a prideful beast at the vision before him, glistening cunt throbbing with need, all for him. he thumbs his signature onto your clit, worsening the heartbeat that thrums through it.
“kats,” you heave, impatiently. “suki, don’t tease. need somethin’…”
“then you know what to do, sweet thing,” with an encouraging and gentle reminder, bakugou’s calloused palm spans over the base of your spine and pushes you forward — prompting you to swirl your hips over his lap. his frame shudders at the first glide of his painfully hard shaft through your swollen, sluice folds and as the hood of your clit catches deliciously on his cockhead. you react in exactly the same way. shakily, you fall forward with a strained pant — not expecting the sensitivity and the jolt of ecstasy spreading through your limbs like a vicious wildfire.
it was was before and it’s even worse now — with the way his breath fans hotly over your face and his chest rumbles hungrily beneath your own. the vibrations tweaking your nipples to hardness, they rub against his firm pecs the more you rock your hips and buck against him.
you’ve really missed katsuki, really needed him, and here he is laying himself bare for the taking.
“kats… ‘m so sensitive…i don’t think i can—” you murmur, unsure of yourself. of this. if you cum too quickly it’d be like you’d used him — he’s way too tired to reach his peak without the work.
katsuki grounds you before you can get too overwhelmed, a lingering and languid kiss is pressed against your lips to keep the peace.
he doesn’t let you think on it too much, hips jerking upwards to remind you that he wants you just as badly and he’ll accept whatever your body has to give. “take it from me. i don’t mind,” the blonde murmurs gruffly over the crude ‘schlick’ sound your sexes make as he slowly pulls you back and forth over his creamy cock. sweet, glacé arousal smears along the length of him, a mix of what you leak and aids in your hesitant movements. with your boyfriend’s help, you build momentum carefully — stacking up pleasure brick by brick and bucking down on him using sensual swirls of your hips.
“that’s it, fuck, grind on me just like that.”
tiredness etches its way into his tone, seeps from his pores but it doesn’t stop bakugou from praising you as you rut against his thick erection faster and faster. whilst his hands stay settled at the small of your back or the soft skin at your hips, they guide you through the motions — back and forth, back and forth until your breath hitches and your words come out as brainless babbles. he doesn’t control you, nor physically, katsuki lets you pick a pace that causes an erratically erotic pulse in your cunt. one that has you clenching around his seedy tip every time it brushes over your spasming hole — like it’s begging to be filled.
tension sluggishly builds between your bodies, it coils in your lower tummy and twists at your focus and the explosive pro-hero absolutely adores it. nothing turns him on more than seeing you like this, pliant, soft and needy — aching to be fucked. the two of you are dizzied with desire before you know it, a heap of sweaty, sex tainted limbs on the couch without realising. katsuki seems to grow impossibly harder between your supple thighs, the forked veins on his dick throbbing with blood flow carrying lustful hormones from his brain and his heart — you feel the rhythm and the want for you that he’s filled with, and it motivates you to take more.
there’s something so sexy about the way your boyfriend lets you use him despite the fatigue looming over him and you know that it’s the reason why his pelvis and lower abdomen are smeared with your juices — golden and scarred skin now glistening underneath the warm, dim lighting in your living room because how much his lazy, slanted smirk and deep gravelly voice make your mound spew round after round of arousal.
“so fuckin’ lucky, my girl is so fuckin’ perfect for me,” bakugou continues to rasp avidly, so fucking gone underneath you. his praise starts to sear through your skin, akin to the sensation of burning yourself on a hot pot of sugar set to caramelise. his touch invokes a similar feeling, warm as though he’s been using his quirk as it slips back down to you — kneading the globes of flesh to keep himself grounded, in fear of losing himself to the way you practically rub your pussy raw and sticky on his girth. “slow baby, slow. don’t wear yourself out. let your body feel it all.”
a pathetic simper claws its way out of your throat because it all feels too good to slow down now. not when he sits between your legs just right, like he’s meant to be there. not when he lets you press down against his prominent, pulsating erection and depend on him for every ounce of your pleasure. it’d kill you to go slow but it’d be even worse if this ended all too soon.
you collapse on top of bakugou, weak from the bliss, shy from his constant sleepy attention. you just need a minute, a second to hide from the unruly lust curling around your organs. “need me to help you?” your boyfriend voices quietly, soft spoken words turning to a broken hiss as your spasming hole leaves a thick trail of cream from his balls to his very tip. katsuki thrusts up into your sticky mound like it’s natural, like he’s not running on empty and staying up to entertain you. like he’s coming home. encouraging you with pretty moans from just being able to lay his eyes on you.
despite how weary he sounds, the pro hero murmurs in an attempt to guide you — keen on seeing the way your face crumples like your world is falling to pieces, needy precious tears slipping over the edge of your lash line. he likes you like this malleable and desperate for anything he gives. “circle your hips, take it nice ‘n easy. s’good, sweetness.” he continues to praise and instruct against the crown of your head, even as you glide deliciously over the leaking head of his dick. “that’s it, you got it. i got you.”
the two of you fall into an easy rhythm then. following the notes of a tune your bodies have danced to before — early mornings before patrols, late nights in foreign countries for missions. you rut and grind against one another, the puffy folds of your molten core bracketing his chubbed up girth, keeping katsuki tucked away in your gushing wetness, covering him in your claim.
you move with a gentle gluttony, like your body’s been built from the ground up just for this — lazily humping bakugou until all you can hear is the claggy cloying noise of your cunt on him. you ache for him, tremble with a delightful pain that blossoms in your lower body like a couple of coals have been thrown onto your fire. bakugou throws his head back against the couch, sunny blonde hair askew as though it’s been swept up in a breeze. his angular jaw turns slack, mouth open wide as his intimate gripes and groans filthily fill the air — almost imitating your whimpers with how exhausted he sounds.
he can’t help it, going from grasping at your forearms to keep you anchored to the cock that kicks up against your drooling pussy — to smoothing over the curve of your ass, his nails forming light crescent moons against the skin as he pulls you forward and rolls his milky mushroomed tip against your entrance.
“such a good fuckin’ girl, listen so well. doin’ everything i say, you know, you’re making me feel so good, baby. so fucking good,” katsuki gets a potty mouth when he’s high on pleasure, delirious from his lack of sleep. a stream of colourful curses, bracketed by his alluring unfiltered whines, stick to the strings of saliva that fill his mouth and they only worsen when you push down to meet him half way. you do the work, shimmying your hips over his lap and rubbing your little pressure nub against the sensitive veins decorating his shaft “sweet pussy on me like this, making a mess. how’d i get so fuckin’ lucky?”
you let him talk and babble sleepily because he lets you use his body, the pleasure shamelessly building between you both in unsturdy blocks ready to come crashing down at any instant. “shit, this is just what i needed. you’re exactly what i need, baby. all the time. every time.” bakugou groans on, fatigue causing a crack in his gritty voice. now, the foundation is weak, one more swipe of his meaty girth along the length of your silken slit could have you both in pieces sooner rather than later. you’re both so messy and lazy and gone for each other too.
even through the exhausted haze coasting over his mind like a veil of fog rolling down a hill — katsuki notices. he picks up on the way your hips shift, pressing down harder on him, how your breath hitches as the waist band of his pants rubs the backs of your thighs raw. you work so hard to chase that high, he can’t help but smile sleepily with pride. “that feel good for you? yeah? when i rub my dick against this cute little clit, just like this.” he chuckles with a low and dangerous rasp, barely there. his fingers too, just ghosting over your supple hips, guiding you where he’s too tired to thrust up.
you nod meekly into the crook of his neck, bite down on golden skin to hide your needy mewls.
“oh i know. take it, sweetness. lose yourself on me.” whilst katsuki’s hands grow sweaty on your skin, hot and heavy where they stop you from pulling too far off him. creamy strands of your arousal form a thick froth between your thighs, smeared over your pretty pussy and your boyfriend’s aching cock — sending notes of sex into the calm, cosy air.
his ruined ruby eyes barely open, tiredly and languidly sloping downwards from the angelic twist of your face in ecstasy to the ever growing glisten of your thighs. this must really be love, bakugou thinks, to have his girl so desperate for him that she’d give him a pussyjob on the spot while he rests. without really being able to resist, two of his thick digits sneak towards your swollen, puffy folds to spread them and he lets out a shattered simper at the sight of your sweet hole pushing out fat droplets of your own nectar.
jesus, the blonde could drop dead right here and he wouldn’t even be mad.
“o-oh fuck. suki, suki!” you pant out, sighing like a dream. the coil building deep within winds itself tight, like tying a knot before you set something free. you’re sure bakugou knows before you do, what’s about to hit and drown out the wonders of the world outside. you reckon he can smell it, the taste of your orgasm hanging in the air, especially when he inhales the waves of lust radiating from your skin — licking his lips.
you grind against him with more passion, faster and faster until the couch squeals from the feverish force. all of your muscles begin to tense, contrasting with the violent way in which you tremble above him, but you can’t focus on the pain that stings in your pelvis from your movements — you can only think about how good the two of you will feel once you tumble over the edge. not even your clothes, soiled and waterlogged with a lewd concoction of your shared arousals can slow you down. not even the deep cut of your tangled panties against your inner thigh will stop you from pushing onwards.
all that matters is the magnetic push and pull between your bodies, the back and forth of a thick throbbing cock against your milky mound. the prominent veins catch on the most sensitive parts of you and like a hook, line and sinker — you’re both dragged closer towards your peaks. if he weren’t so tired, you’d get him to fill you to the brim — cream your cunt for as long as he’d last, but right now you’ll settle for the opaque white stain that spreads over your sex. the precum that beads between your pussy lips work every buck of your hips, that now start to lose their rhythm.
“fuck, baby,” bakugou swears beneath you, skin flashing with a heated red hue. he blushes hard as you wreck him, head cocked to those and golden locks spread out against the headrest of the couch. “do you know how much i love you like this? love you on’top’a me, needing me. taking it like a good girl, helping me relax.” his glows under ambient living room light, body coated in a layer of perspiration as the blonde uses the last of his energy to match your pace.
large arms lock around your back, holding you closer to his molten hot chest than physically possible and eliminating any space between you. katsuki groans low and sexy, sending a crack of dopamine through your system like an electric shock, and strokes his girth over your core, drowned out by your slick. neither of you stop now, a stone’s throw away from pent up bliss that you both know is about to burst into the real world. pop your little bubble and pocket of the universe.
“suki, don’t think i can hold it,” with your hips rocking fluidly, akin to a rushing river, your boyfriend helps you with the final push — letting the pad of his thumb roughly graze the painfully hard nub kept safe between your parted folds. you grind against his fingers wildly, staining it with your viscous essence until his entire palm is practically covered in you. a teaser for your orgasm that’s about to break the surface. “please don’t make me hold it.”
usually he would, usually he’d drag you on for hours until sex felt like loving torture, but tonight, katsuki wants to see you break — watch what you’ve earned from having your way with him. “never. let go for me, sweetness. show me how much you needed this. make yourself cum for me,” he shakes his head once, craning his head down to pull you into a sloppy kiss — tongue melding with your own, spit pushed into your mouth lazily in a way that contrasts with the heavy snap of his hips upwards, length pulsing right where you need him. “oooh, good girl. i’ve got you. that’s right, make a mess. ruin me for everybody else.”
“h-hah. s-suki!”
that’s all you need, really.
whatever nasty, crude opaque white that had bubbled up against your spasming entrance ( a blend of precum and your juices ) is quickly washed away by the flash flood of your high. leaving a loose milky streak along the length of bakugou’s shaft in its wake. the world seems to burn into a kaleidoscope of different colours that make you feel woozy and break you away from reality — when you cum, it spirals down his cock in a viscous stream like molten lava and splashes against your tummies; adding to the mess, making it so much worse.
both of your shaky arms hug the blonde’s head — acting like an anchor or a tether to the world. the ropes that had been twisting deep within since the start of all this, unravel at a speed that you can hardly register and you’re rendered a helpless mess of exerted limbs on top of your already tired boyfriend. he doesn’t mind that you cry, or squirm, the weight of you and the angelic sounds you make as you fall apart are bakugou’s solace. just what he needed, just what you needed.
you curse, you cry and you heave into his neck, the delicious strain of your vocal cords giving him that one final burst he needs to push towards his own high. “mhm, mhm? keep going for me baby, ‘m right there. let me use you for a sec,” bakugou snarls out. he rasps without giving a fuck, losing his composure and forgetting what it means to talk. he ruts faster, harder into your ruined cunt with what little strength remains in him, orgasm stacking painfully in his pelvis. “h-holy shit. fuck, you’re so good to me.”
one large hand leaves your hip to cup the back of your neck, not squeezing, but creating enough presence to leave you lightheaded. the explosive pro hero drags you into another sloppy, uncoordinated kiss — licking into your mouth to pass what little sanity he has left onto you. “cummin’ sweetheart, gonna paint this pussy with my cream. s-shit,” katsuki coos and curses under his breath, next to every praise that comes to mind and over the crude sound of your sensitive sex slipping over his dick.
every inch slides against your pussy one last time before the blonde finally succumbs — every ache and ounce of tension melts away from his hulking body underneath you as he lets go. he shudders, piping hot spurts of his seed landing hot against your mound as it pulses on him. there’s too much of it, sloshing your legs and sinking into the couch — some seeping through the shreds of clothing the two of you are somehow still wearing. all the while, katsuki feeds you the passion splayed across the tongue, moaning into your mouth while he cums on your clit and your cunt.
he doesn’t pull away, even as you both twitch through the aftershocks — grabbing hold of the swollen base of his cock to tap his cum-coated tip against your hole. katsuki chuckles, absolutely drained, as it locks and unlocks around nothing. greedy.
“mmmn, love you so much, baby,” he hums, once the ringing in his ear finally stops and the static cracking across his brain finally calms. bakugou clings onto you like you're a life line, only letting you lift your head slightly, just so you can breathe. “fuck, that was so good.”
you stay on top of your boyfriend, satiated and buzzing with adoration — letting your own wave of tiredness work its way through your system. “love you more,” you bleat back with a tiny yawn, content as you listen to the dull thud of katsuki’s heartbeat whilst it slows. he’s still present, warm, coaxing though sleepy and it makes you feel safe. “thank you for spoiling me.”
“thank you for being a good girl and letting me, your boyfriend affectionately pecks your forehead once, exhaling deep through his nose as if all his worries from the week have been cast away. “even when you’re too fuckin’ shy to ask.”
“you were sleepy!” you bite.
he bites back, words slipping into sleepy slurred speech. “yeah, and you’re insatiable. my needy baby,” bakugou murmurs, teasing half heartedly because he’s too busy trying to lock you down on top of him for a nap. “think makin’ me cum is gonna knock me out though. so c’mere…”
“oh my god. shut up. you know i can be needy.”
“feels good to be needed. so, quit your whinin’ and close your eyes," katsuki squeezes you once, as a reminder, letting you it’s safe to want him. no matter what. “fall asleep with me, just like this.”
and from there, you do. tucked up together, albeit, a bit overly warm and sticky, which you just know he’ll complain about later but for now — you bask in the afterglow, completely satisfied after taking exactly what you need.
It’s not your fault that your love language is physical touch!
And you love your friends! You love giving Ochaco hugs or giving Mina a kiss on the forehead! You like resting your head on Momo’s shoulder! But not so much with the guys. Correction—only with one very possessive, very angry Pomeranian.
Your best friend got special treatment, of course. Katsuki was basically a walking-talking heater, a literally blessing in the winters. When he’s around, you’re not allowed to cuddle into anyone else.
The man silently demanded his cheek-kisses standing there, bowing down to your height till you remember to kiss him. And that’s exactly what’s happening right now. He walked home (the UA dorm that the both of you live in) from the platonic movie date he took you to, he walked you to your door, the hallways deserted but you can hear music from Jirio’s room.
“I mean, the writing was beautiful.” You lean back your dorm room door, gesturing wildly with your hand. “But the acting? Atrocious!” Katsuki leans down to your height, face tilted to the side a little, waiting patiently for his kiss.
“And the cinematography? Ugh! Amateurish!” You throw your hands up dramatically, Katsuki narrows his eyes at you ranting away, wondering if you were being oblivious or you genuinely hadn’t realised yet. After a few moments, you realise that he wasn’t participating in the conversation, rolling your eyes as you realise what he wants.
You take a step closer to him, stepping up to your tip-toes. Listen, you were frustrated at the movie, you were sleepy, you were tired. So it definitely wasn’t your fault when you miscalculated, grabbing Katsuki’s chin, turning his face to plop a kiss on his cheek but instead, smooshing your lips right to his.
You pull away with a soft gasp, eyes wide as you look as the mark your lipstick just left of your best friend’s lips. You glance up to his eyes, slightly wide, entire body frozen in place, cheeks starting to pink. “I am so sorry!” You murmur hurriedly, your thumb from the hand on his cheek goes to wipe it of the stray lipstick, but—
Bakugo leans down lower, going again to press a short kiss back onto your lips, your thumb caught between. Blood rushes to your cheeks, lips hovering open in embarrassment, fluster, his face still inappropriately close and…your eyes glance back at his lips before baring into his flaming orange eyes.
“Are you sure you—” His voice is raspy as he blinks down at you, of course you don’t let him finish, crashing your lips into his, pulling him closer by his collar as he pushed you back against the door, his hands going innocently to your waist, simply peppering kisses against each others lips.
His hands wander to your back, his finger pressing in the sliver of your bare skin peeking out, making you gasp into his mouth, hands cupping his face as he tugs on your bottom lip with his teeth.
“You taste so good.” He whispers against your lips, pulling away just a moment, letting both of you catch your breath, you watch him lick his lips, eyes ablaze about to go back to taking his time with your lips when you hear a gasp from down the hallway, both your heads snapping to the sounds, Denki, Kirishima, and Deku staring at the two of you…
lmk if yall can finally comment cause i wanna see the comments 😭
somno with katsuki just made sense. he’s always busy and you love your sleep. he’s up early in the mornings to train and then gets home late from patrol. you try to stay up late but he always finds you asleep curled up with his pillow.
you guys had previously had the talk and he’s thankful cus tonight your nightie has ridden up, your thighs are parted showing him your bare cunt. he slowly strips off his clothes and trails his hands up your calves and you spread your legs even more.
he kisses up your legs and buries his head between your thighs, licking softly at your slit, smiling when you push yourself back onto his face. he takes his time eating you, suckling your clit into his mouth, tongue lapping against it slowly.
after you cum with a breathy moan he positions himself behind you, sliding his flushed tip through your slick and pushing in. he groans lowly as he sinks into you, your gummy walls sucking him in tight.
he leans down around you, forearms braced onto the mattress, pressing his forehead to your shoulder as he starts to rock into you. he’s panting softly, placing open mouthed kisses on your warm skin. you turn your head in you sleep and he’s immediately kissing down to the newly exposed skin.
“fuck, i love you so much.” he whispers.
his stomach is flexing, sweat dripping down his brow as he works himself up. his arms are shaking and when your greedy pussy cums again he can’t help but stuff you full. he’s still leaning over you, catching his breath before he slowly pulls out.
“gonna clean you up, baby.” be presses a kiss to the back of your neck.
and he’ll go get a warm, damp cloth from the bathroom and clean you up and press a soft kiss to your clit. and another. and another, slowly starting to lick at you again until you moan and then he’s pulling back.
“shhh, ‘m sorry.” he tosses the cloth into the hamper.
he lays next to you and you automatically roll over to him and curl up into his side.
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Hi! If it's still open, somniphillia andsticky? And/or 18+ peter?
a/n: anon... what if I kiss you on the lips for giving me my first peter ask?
18+ f!reader. established relationship. college student Spiderman!Peter. somnophilia. creampie.
He came in through the window, his movements silent and all his senses attuned to you sleeping on your bed in the corner of the studio apartment.
Peter wasn't a cocky guy, but seeing your lush form wrapped up half naked in the sheets made him feel ten feet tall. You were his. Just his. And in every way you trusted him to take care of you, protect you, love you.
He'd already been aching for you after being out all night again, but damn seeing the curve of your ass as you slept in one of his shirts had him hard in seconds.
He pulled the sheet off you slowly without waking you-- wanting to keep you soft and sweet as long as possible. He thought you were adorable when you were sleepy, clingy and whiny in a way you never let yourself be when you were fully awake.
The spiderman suit came off in only a few pieces and he was left in his boxers, a prominent wet spot where his cock wouldn't stop leaking. Those got pushed down his thighs and tossed over his shoudler before he climbed into bed behind you.
You mumbled his name but didn't wake, which wasn't surprising since it was damn near 3am.
Peter groaned softly when he gently reached between your legs and found you wet and slick. Poor baby, taking care of yourself when I'm busy.
He slipped one finger into you, finding your hole relaxed and eager around his finger before he added another. By the third finger your hips were moving on instinct and he was smirking to himself. His needy lil girl couldn't be patient even in her sleep.
It was easy to line himself up with your hole, it was harder to go slow enough not to wake you. Inch by inch he buried himself in your wet heat until his tip was kissing your cervix.
You moaned and clenched around him but beyond your eyelids fluttering you were still dreaming.
"I gotcha," Peter mumbled as he rocked into you, slow and steady easing you onto your stomach.
Each thrust was compounded by the simple trust between you two. Peter's mind flashed back to the first time you brought this up.
"Just fuck me in my sleep, babe. I miss you too much anyway." You'd been half joking at first, but when Peter had interjected incredulously,
"What, you want me to use you and let you wake up with my cum leaking out of you?"
Your eyes went dark and you weren't joking anymore when you nodded. "That.. that actually sounds hot."
So Peter didn't feel any shame as he used your perfect pussy to get off, your slick coating his balls as he grunted and tried to keep himself quiet. His eyes rolled back into the back of his head everytime you clenched around him on instinct and he got close faster than he ever thought possible.
Just a slut for my cock huh baby? Don't worry, I'll leave you a big surprise for the morning, perv.
He couldn't resist whispering in your ear as his body covered yours, his thick shaft stretching you out so beautifully. He wondered if you'd still feel sore the next morning- the thought made his balls ache.
When he came he had to bite his fist as he groaned, loading you up with spurt after spurt of his cum. HIs hand reached out grab the headboard not realizing he left a hadnprint dent from squeezing too hard.
He pulled out slowly and watched his cum leak out of your gaping pussy, scrambling for his phone to snap a pic before laying down beside you. Cuddling close and kissing your shoulder sweetly.
🍓 tags: nsfw, best friend!jake, dilf jake cause i can't help myself, minor jealousy, size kink, alien genitalia, human x na'vi, oral sex (going both ways), fingering
🍓 wordcount: 15k
masterlist
reblogs are always enormously appreciated!
The jungle is in its prime. It’s been raining for days, rejuvenating the lush green after a period of merciless heat. Luscious fruit hangs from the branches, ripe and beaming with colour, and the forest air is full of the sweet smell of fertile, damp soil. Pandora feels alive, even more so than usual, bioluminescence flickering like a pulse along the deep roots and vibrant foliage, as though Eywa is breathing beneath your very feet.
The Na’vi in the Omatikaya village are similarly vibrant. Adorned in colourful beads and feathers and beautifully woven jewelry, their deep blue skin practically glows around the roaring fires that are all lit up around the centre of the village. It’s difficult to tear your eyes away from them as they dance in the firelight, their long limbs lithe and exotically beautiful in the dim flickering light.
You’d be lying if you said you weren’t entranced by them. How could you not be? It’s mating season, and you’re a scientist at heart.
You try to hide your interest the best you can by sneaking quick looks at their dancing from beneath your eyelashes, but you’re sure that it’s obvious to anyone who bothers to look that you’re simply fascinated. Their rituals are entirely foreign to you despite all the years you’ve spent living on Pandora — this is the very first time that you’ve been invited to the village at this time of year. The Na’vi are comfortable in their bodies and their sexualities, but that does not mean that they’re comfortable with having their traditions observed by outsiders, by Sky People like you.
You understand their hesitance, and never seek to insert yourself into the village when you’re not wanted. Your life on Pandora works because you live in tandem with the Omatikaya, never pushing the boundaries too far. Truthfully, you think the only reason that the People have accepted you to the level that they have is because Jake has vouched for you. The weight of Toruk Makto’s regard is enough to lower the hackles of most Omatikaya, and the rest of them simply ignore you when you’re around. It’s only the most curious of them that actually speak to you, and you’ve managed to build up a few tentative but mostly solid friendships within the village that you’re actually quite proud of.
Your attention is pulled away from the fluidity of the bodies dancing around the fire by a cry from behind you, and when you turn to look you only just have enough time to spot a familiar blue face before a small but strong body almost knocks you right off the log you’re seated on.
“Um'ma!” Tuk cries out, burying her face in your shoulder as she hugs you in one quick squeeze before dancing back, her sweet little face all scrunched up in a grin. “You’re here!”
She’s almost the same size as you are but with all the strength and solid bones of the Na’vi, so her hug is more like a full body tackle.
“Hi, Tuk Tuk,” You say, a little winded from the impact of her hitting your chest. “Where’s your dad?”
“He’s coming,” Tuk says dismissively, pulling back to look at you properly. When she gets a proper look at what you’re wearing, her beaming smile grows even larger. “Oh, you look so much nicer than usual!”
You don’t take offense to that; it must be a novelty for her to see you out of your usual denim shorts and worn tank tops and sports bras. The clothes that you’re wearing now are traditional for the Na’vi, sized down specially for you. The tewng is a little more revealing than you’d prefer, sitting high on your hips and revealing a wide expanse of your thighs, and the beaded top covers even less. You’re not even sure if it is a top – you think it acts more as a very large necklace, and it only covers your nipples if you stay very, very still. But Kiri had made an extra effort to weave the garments especially for you, and you wear them with all the pride you can muster while being more exposed than you are generally used to.
“Thanks.” You say, reaching out to run a hand affectionately over her braids.
She’s a sweet kid, and you smile fondly as she sits next to you on the log and begins babbling away about the various courting couples who are expected to mate by the end of the season. You listen intently, especially when she throws in some very juicy gossip about couples who are currently dancing (practically grinding against each other, really) by the fireside while in fact engaged in courting with other people.
You get caught up in her whispering, trying not to stare too long at the people she’s talking about. Your eyes have fallen on Ola’netu, a strong male of the clan who is going through his seventh mating season. According to Tuk, he has turned down every woman in the clan who has expressed interest in him.
It’s not necessarily unusual for a Na’vi to go through several mating seasons without finding a mate – they mate for life, after all, which means it is not a decision that is easily rushed into. What is causing such a stir about Ola’netu’s situation is that he allegedly shows very little interest in the women of the clan; it seems that he is largely preoccupied with watching the human scientists that live in the outpost just outside the village, if Tuk is to be believed.
That’s enough of a surprise that you find your eyes glued to Ola’netu where he stands watching the others dancing. He is tall, like all Na’vi, with broad shoulders and a narrow waist and impressive lithe muscles carved into his abdomen. He is beautiful, even in that classically alien way that you’re beginning to get used to, but that’s not what has caught your attention. No, what’s caught your attention is the knowledge that he might actually be interested in humans.
It’s not unheard of — the Na’vi are comfortable and confident in their sexuality, viewing intimacy and sex as part of life, and humans are curious and reckless by nature. Sexual exploration between the two species is probably inevitable, and you often hear giggled whispers detailing their exploits. You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t been fascinated with the idea ever since you heard the whispers, and now you find your eyes straying towards the subject of little Tuk’s gossiping.
“Mommy is annoyed with him,” Tuk confides, leaning into your side. “She says he is too interested in sky demons-”
A large hand lands on your back, the touch searing against the exposed skin, and then a deep voice speaks from behind you.
“What are you two gossiping about, hm?” Jake leans in from behind you, his big head shoving its way between you and Tuk as he winds an arm around both of your shoulders.
Tuk squeals, clearly taken by surprise at the sudden appearance of her father, and you jolt beside her too. You tear your gaze away from the dancing to find that Jake is already watching you, and you feel your face burn with embarrassment at getting caught staring at the other Na’vi.
“Nothing!” Tuk says quickly, blinking up at her father with all the innocence she can muster.
Jake casts her a quick look, a single eyebrow quirking. His disbelief is unmistakable, but to Tuk’s credit she just smiles sweetly at him.
“What’re you teaching my daughter, huh?” He asks, nudging at you playfully. “You’re gossiping like fishwives over here.”
You roll your eyes at that, relaxing into his side as his arm drapes lazily around your back. “Don’t listen to him, Tuk. Your daddy is the biggest gossip around.”
That makes Jake laugh, head tilting back as his hand curls around your shoulder. He doesn’t even argue, because he can’t – Jake loves being in other people’s business, and has spent many long lazy afternoons huddled up in the human outpost with you when he needs a break from his Olo’eyktan duties, whispering about the other scientists under the guise of checking in on how everyone is doing.
You watch Jake turn to Tuk, your eyes tracing over his blue, alien features. Being Na’vi suits him, more than being human ever had. He’s taken to life with the Omatikaya like a duck to water, and it’s good to see him so strong and happy. However, that doesn’t mean that it’s not lonely for you a lot of the time.
Jake has been your closest friend for many years, but things are different now – he’s older, for a start, and a father and Olo’eytkan for another, and to top it all off he's now an entirely different species. Though you try your best to see him as often as he can, sometimes he’s just busy and doesn’t have the time for you. And though you understand that, you find yourself feeling melancholy about it often.
“Why don’t you go to your mother?” Jake murmurs, pressing gently at Tuk’s back.
“But I want to sit with um'ma for a little while longer.” Tuk protests immediately, her little face scrunching up.
You bite your lip, trying not to laugh. Tuk knows your name, of course, but none of Jake and Neytiri's children ever use it. The kids have always called you um’ma, for as long as you can remember. It’s like an affectionate name for mom, as far as you’re aware. You’ve always sort of assumed that it’s somewhat teasing. You know it’s not entirely unusual for Na’vi children to refer to older female figures in affectionate terms like that – the school children had called Grace sa’nok, a much more formal name.
“Another time.” Jake says, more firmly this time, and Tuk groans loudly in defeat before reluctantly skulking away.
Now that it’s just you and Jake, he straddles the log next to you and spreads his knees out with a sigh. He rolls his broad shoulders, clicking his tongue softly as he shakes out his stiff muscles, before turning to look at you with a little grin.
“Look at you,” He crows quietly, his big golden eyes wandering down the length of your body as he takes in the traditional clothes you’re wearing. You think they look a little ridiculous on you, but Jake looks approving.
You fiddle with the delicately woven top, adjusting it carefully to make sure it’s covering your nipples and sitting very still to ensure that it doesn’t slip. You’ve grown used to seeing the Omatikayan women wear their traditional clothing, but it is very different wearing it yourself, especially when you’re not used to feeling so exposed.
“I think I might look a little silly,” You confess, “But Kiri helped me with the clothes, and she was so excited about it.”
Jake hums, then reaches out to catch your hands and to pull them away from your clothes. “Quit messin’ with it, you look good.”
You grumble, but allow him to tug your hands away. Your cheeks are warm from embarrassment; Jake’s gaze is unexpectedly searing, and keeps dropping down over your chest and legs. It’s not a type of look you’re used to getting from him, and you don’t quite know how to react to it.
“My tits are like, fully out.” You mutter, looking away from his face and squinting back at the dancing figures around the fire. “I know no one cares, but I feel super exposed.”
Jake hums, though he sounds amused rather than sympathetic. He spreads his legs apart even further, ignoring the way you grumble and slap at his knee when he manspreads his way into your space.
“Come here, then,” He wraps a big hand around your elbow and pulls you between his legs. “Now, no one’s looking at you.”
Jake has always been a touchy person, saying more with his calloused hands than he’s able to say with his words, and he’s always been physically affectionate. The fact that he’s so much bigger than you makes his affectionate touches so much more obvious and overwhelming; his hands are so large when he moves you around like you’re a little ragdoll. You end up sitting between his legs, his thick thighs bracketing your hips as you press back into the cradle of his legs. He’s so big where he looms over you from behind that you’re practically swallowed up by his size – the bulk of him effectively blocks the sight of you from any prying eyes.
You breathe a laugh, and relax back into his chest. You do feel a little better now, all nestled into Jake’s stomach as he sits tall over you. You feel safe like this, and you use the opportunity to take another peek at the dancing Omatikaya.
As the evening gets later, the dancing begins to get more and more energetic. The couples go from dancing around each other to dancing on each other in displays of barely contained eroticism. Some couples have graduated into grinding on each other, and you watch with interest from the safety of Jake’s arms – you so rarely get an opportunity to observe the Na’vi like this, so free and unrestrained.
Jake doesn’t seem to notice that your attention has strayed; he’s giving the dancing couples his own curious look. He is obviously curious about his people as Olo’eytkan, but you also know that your friend is nosey and no doubt wants to know exactly who is getting with who. After a couple of moments of watching the dancing, he drops his head to murmur in your ear.
“So, you never told me what you and Tuk were gossiping about.” He says, nosey as ever. “You looked so invested in the conversation, must have been something important.”
You roll your eyes, curling into him further. The touchiness is nothing strange for the two of you; in fact, it’s normal enough that none of the Omatikaya so much as bat an eye at the way you’re practically perched in his lap. You’re pretty sure that they look at you like a puppy or something, some kind of little lapdog that Jake keeps around as a kind of pet.
“Why are you so incapable of minding your damn business?” You grumble, trying to shift around.
Jake’s chin comes to hook over your shoulder, his back curving as he pulls you tight against him. It’s the kind of move that keeps you pinned, and you grumble a little before going still. Living as a human on Pandora could be lonely, and you’ve found yourself growing more and more touch-starved as time goes on. Having Jake all plastered up against your back is pleasant, and you can’t work up the strength to pull away from him.
“C’mon!” He crows in your ear, jostling you. “Tell me!”
“Ugh!” You reach around to shove at his face, but you already know that you’re going to crack under his questioning. “I just– Tuk was just telling me about some of the People, and who they were interested in for mating season.”
“Oh yeah?” Jake asks lazily, leaning his chin on your shoulder as his eyes dart around the large open area that’s been cleared for the festivities. “Anything interesting?”
“Um…” You pick at your fingers, glancing out at the dancing again. “She was telling me that… certain Omatikaya men were interested in humans. Men like Ola’netu.”
You can feel Jake stiffen from behind you, though you can’t actually see his face.
“Ola’netu?” He repeats, and his chin shifts against your shoulder as he turns to look out over the People.
Ola’netu is easy to spot. He lingers by the edge of the crowd, laughing with friends as they tell stories and drink. That in itself is not unusual, but the way that he shakes his head in refusal at every woman who approaches him to dance is unusual for an unmated adult male. Especially an unmated adult male who has already announced his interest in several different mating seasons already; he is dressed to attract attention, with bright beaded jewelry and a finely woven battle band hugging his slender waist. It is strange that he is refusing dances when he has clearly declared himself interested in mating.
You can’t help but wonder if Tuk is correct; if perhaps Ola’netu is not interested in the women who are seeking his attention because he is more interested in human women instead.
“Huh,” Jake says simply. He almost sounds as though he doesn’t care, but you know him too well. You can hear the edge of irritation in his voice. “Why would you be interested in that?”
“Oh, come on.” You grumble. “Why wouldn’t I be interested in that?”
Jake shifts behind you, one of his big hands coasting around your waist to land on your belly. His fingers drum there thoughtfully, the roughness of his calloused skin against your bared stomach making you shiver a little.
“I didn’t… think you were interested in other Na’vi men.” He says very slowly. His chin is still hooked over your shoulder, staring out at the group of hunters that Ola’netu is laughing with.
“I’ve been single for a long-ass time.” You say quietly, shrugging. “And the human guys back at the outpost are great, but there’s definitely nothing attractive about them, y’know? They’re kind of gross, most of the time.”
“Right,” Jake says vaguely, still squinting out at his people. “You sure you’re not just horny? When’s the last time you got some?”
You gasp, indignant, and turn in his hold to slap at his head. You have to reach high considering your height difference, but he doesn’t bother moving; knowing that he’s allowing your weak little slap rankles even more than if he had stopped you.
“Shut up!” You scold, before turning away irritably when he starts to laugh. You fiddle with your fingers as you wait for his snickers to die down, suddenly feeling shy. “I don’t… I mean, what if it’s not just fucking I’m interested in?”
“Oh?” Jake says absently; you can feel that he’s still looking out at the dancing.
“What if it’s mating I’m interested in?”
That finally gets you his full attention. Jake’s head whips away from the fireside to look at you instead. His eyes are so intense that it feels like he’s boring a hole in your head, and you purposefully avoid looking at him the best that you can.
“Mating.” He repeats, sounding distinctly thunderstruck. “Mating?”
“Yes,” You mumble, embarrassed and on edge. “It’s hardly a new concept for you. You have four kids-”
“I know what it is, smartass.” He snaps back immediately. It’s probably pure reflex based on all the bickering you do usually, because he softens immediately after. “But you're…" He trails off, visibly confused. "How do you know he’s looking for the same? Maybe he’s just a pervert. He might just want to fool around with a human, right?”
Your brow twitches, and you turn your face away from him again. Your lips are pursed, eyebrows drawn together in a frown as you peer unseeingly at the large bonfire roaring in the centre of the camp. You obviously know that the Na’vi mate for life – truthfully, you think that’s part of the appeal. The thought that maybe Ola’netu was only interested in fucking a human out of some sort of morbid curiosity hadn’t occurred to you, but now you feel a little silly.
You sigh, fiddling with one of the little beads on your chest accessory. “I dunno. I guess I just want someone to look after me, you know?”
For possibly the first time ever, you’ve managed to render Jake dumbstruck. He goes perfectly still behind you; even his hand is frozen across your belly. For a long moment, he doesn’t make a sound. You know he’s staring at you because you can still feel his eyes boring into you, but he says absolutely nothing. You can practically hear the cogs working in his head.
“I look after you,” He says at last, sounding confused. “Don’t I?”
You groan quietly, reaching up to scrub tiredly at your face. “God, Jake, come on. You know what I mean. Yes, you do, but… I don’t know, I’m lonely. You have your family, but I have to go back to the outpost to live with science guys that forget to shower for days on end. I just… I want more than that.”
“But you're–”
Whatever Jake’s protest was going to be is lost, because the two of you get distracted by the tall figure stepping towards you. It’s Neytiri, and for once she isn’t accompanied by the children. There’s a sway in her hips as she approaches, her attention straying once towards the dancing around the fireside before returning to Jake with a grin.
She murmurs a greeting as she settles down next to Jake on the log, leaning in to accept a kiss when he turns to her. You shift between his legs, a little awkward with the position all of a sudden.
Neytiri doesn’t actually seem to mind your presence, though you think you probably took some getting used to in the beginning. Now, Neytiri seems to have accepted that you just come along with Jake, like a two for one kind of deal. She rarely blinks an eye at your interactions, but you still feel vaguely uncomfortable with being stuck between his legs when she’s sitting right beside you. Jake, naturally, seems entirely oblivious.
Her eyes dart between you and Jake, and her eyebrows raise at whatever she sees on your faces. “What is it?”
“Nothing.” You say quickly, but your attempt at nonchalance is sabotaged when Jake interrupts you by saying, “Tuk told her that Ola’netu is interested in humans, and now she thinks that she might be interested in Na’vi men.”
“I was interested in Na’vi men before that!” You hiss, before your cheeks grow hot and you end up retreating back into Jake’s chest. That’s not necessarily something that you wanted to admit, but now you’ve earned Neytiri’s attention.
She’s frowning, looking a little confused. Just like Jake, she looks out across the fire towards the groups of dancing, laughing Na’vi. Ola’netu is still standing at the side of the congregation, smiling and nodding with his friends. He has no idea that the Olo’eyktan and his mate are whispering about him with the little human tucked between their legs like a family pet, and your ears burn at the realisation that this is actually a rather pathetic position to be in.
“Tawtute cannot make tsaheylu.” Neytiri frowns. “Why would he wish to mate with someone he cannot connect with?”
You cringe. She’s right, of course. Na’vi mating bonds are intimate on a level that a human could never experience, and it’s ridiculous of you to assume that a Na’vi would sacrifice that level of intimacy for a few moments of taboo sexual curiosity with a Sky Person.
Over your head, Jake sends her a look. You can’t see him properly, but you can guess that it’s chiding.
“Humans can form deep emotional and romantic bonds without tsaheylu.” Jake is quick to say, but you know it’s just a platitude.
Now, in the face of both Jake and Neytiri and their doubtful expressions, you feel absolutely ridiculous for your private musings and hope to find a partner for yourself that would care for you and understand you in the same way the Na’vi do for their mates. It’s not that you had been thinking about it super seriously in any capacity, but you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t considered what it would be like to have a partner so much larger than you, one that would treat you as though you were something precious, who would be tender with you.
They’re thoughts that tend to swirl persistently around your head when you listen to some of the more adventurous humans at the outpost giggling about their exploits, or when you’re alone in your bunk late at night surrounded by the snoring of your fellow humans on all sides. It can’t be wrong to want something like that just for yourself, right?
As you had gotten somewhat lost in your thoughts, Jake and Neytiri had exchanged a full, completely silent conversation over your head; it consists entirely of facial expressions and ear twitches, and you pay it no mind at all. They know each other so well at this point that they don’t even need words to communicate, and you doubt you’d be able to follow along with their wordless conversation if you tried.
“He is much larger than you, tawtute.” Neytiri points out with uncharacteristic caution. “He could hurt you.”
“Well, I wouldn’t jump straight into it,” You say hastily, shifting uncomfortably between Jake’s legs. His hand is still spread casually across your stomach, as though he’s forgotten it’s there, and you feel hyper-conscious of his touch now that the conversation has shifted like this. “All the other humans that have experimented sexually with Na’vi have worked their way up to it, y'know–?”
Unsurprisingly, that’s Jake’s cue to leap into the conversation again. “Whoa, wait a second, wait a second, who was experimenting with who—”
“This is what I mean!” You hiss, turning in your place to swat at his arm. “You’re such a whore for gossip, you’re not even listening to me properly-!”
“I am listening,” Jake says hastily, grabbing at your wrist. “But you can’t just drop that without explaining! You never told me about any human/Na’vi experimenting-”
“It wasn’t relevant, jackass!”
Neytiri ignores your bickering with all the ease of someone who is well acquainted with the dynamic of your relationship. She’s still watching the crowd of dancing Na’vi, her expression stern but thoughtful, and you’re reminded of what Tuk had said earlier; “Mommy is annoyed with him. She says he is too interested in sky demons-”.
“Let’s just forget about it!” You burst out, desperate to be done with this conversation. You’re beginning to worry that talking like this is going to change the way they look at you – make them judge you. “Let’s not talk about this anymore.”
Your words fall on deaf ears. Jake is still squinting around the gathering of Omatikaya as though he might be able to guess just by looking at them which ones may have fooled around with humans, and Neytiri has turned around on the log to take another look at you. Her stare is as intense as Jake’s, but for some reason you feel as though she can see more.
“This is your first time witnessing mating season,” Neytiri points out, slowly as though she has to think carefully about each word. “You are dressed as one of us.”
When Neytiri reaches over to you, you have to fight a flinch. She has grown used to you and has accepted your presence around her family, but she doesn't often touch you if she can help it. And yet now she reaches out and adjusts your chest covering with her long fingers. It had been knocked askew when you had turned to slap at Jake, and you practically hold your breath as she sets it right delicately.
“You need a release,” Neytiri murmurs, eyebrows drawing into a frown. “The other tawtute do not help you with this?”
“She’s not just talking about a release,” Jake grumbles. “She’s talking about mating.”
You hiss in aggravation. “Why is that so weird? I’m just sick of being alone!”
“But you’re not alone,” Jake says, leaning over your shoulder and pulling you back against his chest to make eye contact with you. “You have us. Sully's stick together, remember?”
He’s as annoyingly earnest as ever, and is still missing the point. You can’t blame him, not really – Jake’s family is his fortress, as he loves to say, and you doubt he can even remember what it feels like to be really, truly lonely. He’s carved out a place for himself here amongst the clan, and they accept him quicker than they ever would you thanks to his Avatar body.
“Oh, shut up.” You grumble, but you allow yourself to lean on his chest to take the sting out of your tone.
Neytiri shifts beside Jake, her expression still and thoughtful. To your horror, she continues the conversation – and it’s not as though you can tell Neytiri to shut up the same way you can tell Jake to.
“Sex is a means for bonding in mated pairs as well as outside of them,” She says. “It is not unusual for unmated Na’vi to share intimacy in such a way, and to provide each other with release. Are you sure that this is not what you are seeking?”
Oh, how humiliating. You sink a little lower, hoping that you might disappear right into Jake’s chest.
“Yes.” You mumble, “Quite sure.”
In an effort to distract yourself, you avert your eyes from the couple you sit with and look out towards the festivities again. Over your head, Jake and Neytiri murmur to each other, but you block them out to the best of your ability. You don’t want to know what they think about this or what they have to say about your situation. If you’re lucky, they'll think you’re rather pathetic and feel vaguely sympathetic towards you. If you’re unlucky, then Jake will do what he always does and poke his nose in your business in an attempt to sort things out for you. The idea fills you with a sense of horror; who knows what he’ll say or do to people to get you laid.
As you look out across the gathering, one head in particular turns to look back at you in return. Ola’netu is looking your way, and your spine goes ram-rod straight when he smiles at you.
Like an idiot, you look around to see if there’s anyone sitting nearby that he might be smiling at instead. It’s possible that he was actually smiling at Jake, but both Jake and Neytiri are distracted with whatever almost silent conversation they’re having over your head.
Slowly, you look back at him. His smile has gotten wider, as though he finds you funny. Your heart skips, eyes growing wide as you stare back at him. You’re a little bewildered, but you can’t ignore the sudden pulse of wild excitement that shoots through you. He’s looking at you. He’s looking and he’s possibly interested in humans, and does this mean something?
Tentatively, you smile back. It’s more a nervous quirk of the lips, but Ola’netu seems to take it as encouragement because he begins walking over towards you.
“Oh!” You blurt in a soft whisper, startled to see him approach. You press back into Jake’s chest automatically, peeking out from the cage of his big arms to watch as Ola’netu makes his way around the fire towards where you’re sitting.
Jake doesn’t seem to notice your distraction. He just adjusts his arms when you shuffle closer, still whispering with Neytiri with his brow furrowed. But Neytiri glances down at your quiet sound, and then follows the line of your gaze out towards the gathering. When she spots Ola’netu walking over, her eyes widen and she sits back in surprise to watch his approach.
Ola’netu walks with a swagger, with all the confidence of a warrior in his prime in the middle of mating season. It’s a little overwhelming to have all of that directed at you, and you find yourself floundering a little the closer he gets.
When he comes to a stop in front of where the three of you are sitting, Jake finally seems to notice him. He turns his head, blinking up at Ola’netu when he comes to stand by the log.
“Ola’netu.” Jake greets him. There’s an edge to his voice that he doesn’t usually have when he talk to the people in the clan, and you can feel his muscles tense a little where he’s pressed against your back.
“Olo’eyktan,” Ola’netu greets, gesturing to Jake out of respect. His attention doesn’t stay on Jake for long though, because then his big yellow eyes swing towards you where you’re curled up between Jake’s thighs. “Tawtute. Will you dance?”
For a long moment, you’re frozen. Though you had been talking about human/Na’vi pairings only moments ago, it had felt hypothetical. There was a big difference between Ola’netu possibly being interested in humans, and him being interested in you, after all.
You can’t remember the last time you felt desired. You feel valued of course, thanks to your friends, but you haven’t actually felt like a sexual being in a long time. But now this big, strong Na’vi warrior is standing in front of you asking you to dance during mating season, after spending all evening turning down dances from beautiful Na’vi women.
“I don’t think–” Jake starts to say from above you, but you don’t let him finish.
“Yes!” You say quickly, wiggling your way out of Jake’s arms. He seems to forget to actually let go of you, which means you have to practically wrestle your way free. “Yes, I’d like to dance.”
Ola’netu grins, and you feel your own expression break into an answering smile. A dance! No one has ever asked you to dance like this!
You allow yourself to be led out towards the rest of the gathering, your small hand enveloped by Ola’netu’s much larger one, and you don’t glance back once to see the expression on your friends’ faces.
The evening had gone better than you could have ever hoped for.
Ola’netu had been polite and courteous, clearly fascinated with your alien features but never to the point of making you uncomfortable. You had danced for what felt like forever; first, copying his movements as best you could from hip-height, but then as the dancing slowed down Ola’netu had crouched to his knees and guided you in a dance from eye-level. It had made you blush something fierce; the dancing of the Na’vi is often joyful and wild and unrestrained, but for mating season it’s slow and sensual in a way that had made your knees weak as Ola’netu had cradled you against his much larger body.
Even now, as Jake walks you through the forest back to the outpost, you can hardly keep the smile off your face. You’re slung over Jake’s back like a baby koala to save time, as Jake can move through the forest faster when you’re not stumbling over roots behind him – the position means that you can tuck your face into his shoulder and daydream about the whole evening, replaying it all back through your mind.
“Did you see when he was spinning me around by the waist?” You ask, leaning forward over Jake’s shoulder in an attempt to see his face.
Jake just grunts.
“He said my hair was pretty too,” You murmur, an absent-minded little smile growing on your face. “Do you think Tuk would braid some more beads in, if I asked?”
“Mhm.” Jake doesn’t sound as though he’s interested, but his big hand pats at your thigh where they’re wrapped around his waist to show he’s listening. “She would. You don’t need that, though.”
You’re too lost in your thoughts to reply, resting your head against Jake’s shoulder and daydreaming. It’s exciting to experience attention like that, and so unusual for you too. Even if nothing ever comes of it, you think that this entire interaction will fuel your confidence for months to come.
You hardly even notice when you and Jake reach the outpost, but it’s not as though he needs you to give him directions. He knows the layout of the outpost well, and is perfectly capable of navigating his way around without your help.
It’s late, yet the outpost is still buzzing with activity. The scientists stick to odd hours, often getting so absorbed in their work that they’re hardly even aware of time passing, and they barely even glance up at the sight of Jake carrying you into the outpost.
The area for living is a little cramped, but you have managed to secure a tiny room for yourself away from the rest of the human inhabitants. It’s small, but it’s private, which is a rare luxury in the outpost.
Jake ducks his head in through the doorway, and plucks you off his back in the same movement. You’re used to him man-handling you, considering how much larger he is, and so you don’t resist as he pulls you around to hold you against his chest before settling you back down to the floor.
“Maybe I’ll come back around the village tomorrow,” You say, turning on your heel to beam up at Jake. “Ola’netu said that there’ll be a sturmbeest hunt tomorrow, and there’ll be a celebration in the evening.”
Jake grumbles, stepping forward and sinking down onto your lumpy bed. It creaks dangerously under his weight; it’s comically small beneath his enormous frame, his long legs hanging off the mattress as his torso spreads out over the bed.
“You don’t need a reason to come to the village.” He mumbles, his mouth opening wide and his fangs flashing as he yawns. “Definitely not because Ola’netu invited you.”
You roll your eyes. “Why are you being bitter? Let me be happy about this.”
There’s a beat of silence, and then Jake rolls over onto his side to watch you. When he doesn’t speak immediately, you avert your gaze and turn your back to him. You’re still wearing the Na’vi clothes gifted to you by Kiri, and you’re beginning to feel significantly more exposed now in the privacy of your own room than you had when you had been surrounded by other Na’vi dressed similarly to you.
“You know,” Jake begins in a low drawl from behind you, “I didn’t even know you were looking at the Na’vi like that.”
“I’m not looking at anybody in any way.” You grumble, moving over to your dresser. You’re careful not to look back over at Jake on your bed, already flustered enough by the topic of conversation. “Will you look away? I’m about to change.”
Jake completely ignores you; you can feel his eyes boring into you as you rummage through your dresser looking for your pyjamas.
“You’re looking at the villagers like they’re people you want to fuck.”
“Jake,” You snap, growing irritated. “Quit it. You’re making this weird when it isn’t.”
“Oh yeah?” Jake’s voice grows amused, teasing, which is a little infuriating. You do your best to ignore him as you go rooting for a tank top. “What are these for, then?”
You glance over your shoulder, already on edge just from the tone of his voice, and feel your stomach drop at what you see. The drawer in your bedside locker is open – it’s where you keep all your underwear, and there’s several pairs of panties hanging out from where Jake has clearly been rooting around.
Dangling from his big blue index finger is a pair of bright red lacy panties.
“Jake!” You shriek, jolting forward and reaching out to try and grab your underwear off him. “Oh my god, you big pervert!”
Infuriatingly, he just laughs and holds you at bay with a single hand placed across your sternum. It takes so little effort that it feels as though he’s dealing with a child, and you let out a little sound of frustration as you attempt to wrestle your underwear back out of his hands.
“Oh, come on,” He’s laughing, big hand spread all across your chest to keep you away. “What’re you getting angry over? Can’t your best friend ask why you have sexy panties all hidden away?”
“The key word there is hidden!” You snap, mortified. “Why were you going through my underwear drawer, you absolute weirdo-”
When you slap at his chest, he simply loops one arm around your waist and hauls you up into his lap. Your irritation doesn’t faze him in the slightest; he just looks amused.
“Maybe I was worried about you,” He says, finally allowing you to grab the lacy panties out of his hands in favour of pulling you closer to his chest. “Am I not allowed to be worried about my friend?”
“You’re not worried,” You snap, holding the red lace to your chest as he adjusts you on his lap. “You’re just making fun of me!”
Jake has always been touchy, but now that you’re sat in his lap in nothing but a Na’vi tewng and beaded chest accessory those touches feel heightened somehow – his hands are big and calloused and hot as he holds you still in his lap, his eyes watching you closely. It’s not so dissimilar to how you had been sitting earlier in the village, but this time you’re alone and in your room and he’s making fun of you over your panties.
“Nah,” Jake drawls, “I’m worried about you trying to take on more than you can handle. Are you even familiar with Na’vi anatomy?”
You nearly choke, flustered. “I-I’ve studied the People for years–”
Jake’s grin only widens and grows sharper, as though he’s scenting blood in the water. “Have you experienced it outside of a damn textbook, sweetheart?”
You falter. He knows the answer to that, yet he’s watching you closely as you fumble with the question.
“No.” You say at last, fingers clenching around the lace in your hand. “You know I haven’t.”
“You want to?”
For a long moment, you wonder if you heard him correctly. You pull back and do a double take, staring up at him in bewilderment. He’s staring at you hard, all big eyes and long lashes, and you swallow thickly. The atmosphere between you is thick and tense in a way that you’re not used to experiencing around Jake, and it’s making you skittish.
“I–” You begin, your throat spasming as you swallow nervously. The next words come out in a breathy whisper, completely missing the light-hearted joking tone you had been aiming for. “Are you offering?”
Jake chuckles quietly, one hand trailing down your back to rest on the base of your spine. It’s an innocent touch, but your tewng is slung low over your hips and the texture of Jake’s hand is rough and hot against the sensitive skin of your back.
“”’Course I am. You should have come to me straight away when you first started thinking about Na'vi cock. Haven't I always looked after you, huh?” Jake is still grinning, but he finally releases his hold on your hips.
You go scrambling back, almost falling right over onto your ass as you clamber back to your feet. You’re still clutching at your sexy underwear, your cheeks burning – you’ve never actually had the opportunity to wear them since you arrived on Pandora, and you’re humiliated that he’s found them and looked at them and held them. You’re so distracted with the underwear situation that it takes you a moment to fully catch up to what Jake is really saying.
“But–” You manage, swallowing thickly. “But Neytiri-”
“Weren’t you listening earlier? Sex is a means for bonding in mated pairs as well as outside of them,” Jake reminds you, his head tilted as he watches you. “You need a release, and you need someone to guide you through it before you go fumbling around with other Na’vi. I’m your best friend, aren’t I?”
You nod slowly, wondering how the conversation has taken this particular turn. Your pulse feels terribly loud, and you half wonder if you’re dreaming this whole evening – everything feels so strange.
“So, go on,” Jake says casually, leaning back on his hands as his legs spread where they’re hanging off the mattress, his tewng shifting. “Take a look, if you want.”
You hesitate, eyes wide. You can hardly believe what he’s offering, yet your stomach fills with anticipatory butterflies. You’ve never gotten the opportunity to explore a Na’vi body like this before; in the safety of your own room, you can sate your own curiosity that’s been building for years. And even better, it’s with your best friend – Jake might tease you, but he would never judge you for this.
Tentatively, you step back towards Jake. He’s still sitting with his legs spread wide on your bed, his eyes sharp and predatory as you move closer to him. His mouth starts to tilt up, but he keeps himself impressively still as he waits for your next move. It feels as though you’re in charge of this interaction, but it also feels as though that control is tenuous.
You’re practically holding your breath as you reach out to brush your fingers over the musculature of his chest. His body is softer now than it used to be, his human DNA coming to the fore as the years go by. You actually prefer this to the lean litheness of his Avatar body when he had first gotten it; your fingers trail over his pecs, enjoying the soft cushions of his muscles. His skin has an almost velvet-like texture, and you take the chance to really enjoy the feel of it against your fingertips.
Jake holds perfectly still as your touch coasts over his chest, down towards his stomach; though he’s not moving, he’s watching you closely as you touch him. Your blood is roaring in your ears, your heart beating in your throat. It feels as though you’re walking a thin line here, and you’re worried that you’re about to cross a point of no return.
“It’s not just my chest you wanna see, is it, sweetheart?” Jake asks, his voice deep enough that his stomach rumbles beneath your fingertips. “Where else do you wanna look?”
You swallow thickly, momentarily distracted by the pretty azure stripes on his belly. He has two freckles just over his belly button, and your eyes are drawn to them like they’ve been magnetised.
“Can I–” You begin, your tongue heavy and clumsy in your overly dry mouth. “Can I see your, um... your tail?”
There’s a pause, and then Jake laughs. It’s a dry sort of chuckle, as though your request has taken him by surprise.
“Yeah, kid. Of course you can.” He says, still grinning, before shuffling forward on the bed so that he’s sitting right on the edge of the mattress.
He’s so comically big sitting on your bed, his long legs all bent up as he leans forward with his elbows resting on his knees. Like this, his back is long and taut and his tail is perfectly exposed at the base of his spine.
A little thrill runs through you as you climb up onto the bed beside him, your eyes fixed on his tail. It undulates lazily in the air, as though anticipating your touch coming its way. If you were to be honest with yourself, you’ve experienced the urge to grab at his tail many times over the years as it waves about, but never in the way you want to touch it now.
The base of his tail seems to attach right into the base of his spine, and you touch the little protrusion there curiously. The ties of his tewng wrap delicately around the base of his tail, and you run your fingers carefully over the butter-soft skin there.
You’re faintly aware of Jake sighing above you, shifting just slightly as you stroke over his tail. It twitches, as though he’s not sure whether he should be pushing into your touch or away from it. It’s prehensile and active, writhing in the air under your fingers. It’s almost sweet, and you can’t fight your little smile as it twitches under your hand.
“Mmm,” Jake hums, and turns to look at you over his shoulder. A few of his locs have slipped over his shoulder, and hang over his face as he looks at you through heavily lidded eyes. “You finished with that?”
You are, but you find yourself nervous to move on. The whole situation feels as though it’s slipping out from between your fingers, and you glance nervously up at Jake’s face in an attempt to read his thoughts. You don’t know what your next move should be, and you try to pick up any hints from his expression.
“I guess.” You whisper, fingers lingering around the spot where his tail meets his spine.
Jake huffs a soft chuckle, reaching around to grab at your wrist. He’s gentle when he tugs you away from his back, pulling you around to his front so that he can see you properly.
“What’re you so nervous for?” He asks in a murmur. “It’s just me.”
That actually makes you laugh softly with him, your shoulders loosening a little. He’s right – this is Jake, just Jake. He’s trying to help you.
“Yeah,” You breathe, smiling back at him. You don’t feel confident about it, exactly, but you relax into him enough that you feel comfortable enough to keep touching him, growing even bolder with your wandering hands.
It’s natural for you to be curious about his queue, so that’s where you reach next. You do so somewhat cautiously, waiting for him to stop you. You’re well aware of the implications of this particular part of the Na’vi anatomy, and you didn’t truly think you’d ever get an opportunity to examine it closer.
Jake doesn’t stop you as you pull the thick braid covering his neural queue over his shoulder towards you, though you don’t miss the nearly imperceptible shudder that goes through him. You keep your touches gentle as you explore the thick glossy hair covering it, your curious fingers travelling slowly down towards the bottom.
“Careful.” Jake says. His voice comes out thicker than usual, rough and gravelly, and the sound of it startles you into looking up. His eyes are like molten gold, except the pretty green-gold of his iris has been swallowed up by the black hole of his pupils as they expand.
“Sorry,” You whisper, staring back at him with wide eyes. “Does it hurt?”
Jake’s expression twitches, his mouth curling into a self-satisfied, amused sort of smile. “Nah, it doesn’t hurt. Keep going. Just go easy – that bit is sensitive.”
You nod to yourself, and keep your touch as light as you can as you hold the end of his braid up to your face for closer inspection. Thin, pinkish tendrils writhe in the low light of your room, and you squint at them in fascination – it’s the first time you’ve seen anything like this in person, and you feel your mouth form a little ‘O’ in awe. You’re holding an extension of Jake’s whole nervous system in your hands. You’re struck by the sheer level of trust in you that he must have to allow you to do this, and you feel your stomach go a little gooey with sheer affection towards your friend.
“Wow,” You breathe, watching the tendrils curl and react as your breath ghosts over them. “Amazing.”
Jake grunts, sounding faintly pained. You look up from his queue, startled, only to see that his back has rounded slightly as he sits with his elbows leaning on his knees.
“Oh,” You blurt. “I am hurting you! You should have said! I’m sorry, I didn’t–”
“No, kid,” He breathes, turning to look at you with a grin. “Like I said, it’s sensitive. It feels good.”
You blink, startled. “Oh.”
You can’t help the way your eyes trail down towards his tewng, especially where the flap of the loincloth hangs heavy between his legs. His thighs are thick and well-muscled, and you shift on the bed beside him as you eye him up.
“Take the tewng off.” Jake guides you in a low rumble, his big hand spreading across your lower back and pressing you gently forward towards him.
“Mine or yours?” You ask, eyes wide and a little nervous as you stare back at him.
That makes Jake laugh, his thumb stroking over the bare skin just above your own little loincloth. “That’s up to you, sweetheart.”
Right. You swallow, your mouth dry with nerves. The ball is in your court here.
Slowly, you reach out to the sides of his loincloth with trembling fingers. It takes a bit of effort to undo the ties that keep him covered considering your nervous fumbling, but you manage to get the tewng untied without Jake’s help – not that he’s trying to help. He just sits there and watches you with those big eyes of his, though they’re half-lidded now as his tail undulates behind him.
You’re genuinely nervous, but it’s like you’re being driven by a pure compulsion. You can’t stop your hands from reaching for the coarse fabric, regardless of the anxious tremor in your fingertips. Now that Jake is sitting in front of you, willing and inviting as his legs spread wide for you, you are eager to explore his body as he offers himself up for you.
“Okay,” You breathe to yourself, hyping yourself up as you peel back the fabric of his tewng.
When you strip it back and move to set it aside, you practically freeze on the spot. His cock is big, and it’s half-hard where it springs up from beneath the coarsely woven material of his loincloth. For some reason, the sight of his obvious arousal takes you by surprise, and you take a sharp inhale of breath as you stare.
Jake is cocky, and he leans back on his hands as he spreads his thighs even wider apart. Under your wide, fascinated stare, you swear his cock swells further. It’s not much of a surprise that the pretty blue stripes that pattern his body extend to his cock too, but the little dots of bioluminescence scattered over the length of his erection is a surprise. His cock is pretty, the tip of it the same adorable pink of his soft, cat-like nose.
Your palms itch at the sight of it, and your thighs shift and slide together – you want to touch him, so badly that the urge is physical.
“Well?” Jake asks; the bastard sounds a mixture of amused and proud. “What do you think of your first Na’vi cock, huh?”
You feel as though you’ve been struck dumb. He’s so damn confident about himself, and now that you’re faced with the sight of his erection jutting up from his body like this you’re reluctant to admit that he has reason to be confident. You’d rather choke on your own tongue than admit that, though; you just know that his head would swell to unbearable proportions.
You clear your throat and affect a disinterested tone as you lie, “I thought it'd be bigger.”
Jake tilts his head back towards the ceiling and huffs a deep, throaty laugh. Your indifference is utterly unconvincing considering the way your eyes are practically glued to his cock and the way you shift around with your thighs sliding together.
“I can smell you, smartass.” He rumbles, exposing those sharp fangs of his in a grin. “All sweet and musky. Smells like you like what you see.”
You release your breath in a surprised huff. You forget sometimes that the Na’vi have such superior senses; the reminder has you flushing in mortification as you scramble to think about all the other times Jake may have been able to scent arousal from you. He had almost certainly been smelling it all fucking evening as you had been watching the mating season dances.
“Well, maybe I’m just impressed that there’s a part of you that looks this pretty.” You say obstinately, tilting your chin up towards him. “It’s, like, the total opposite of your face.”
Jake’s grin doesn’t falter, not even for a second. He coos, affecting an expression of exaggerated hurt.
“You don’t think I’m pretty, baby?” He asks, leaning closer to you so that your noses are practically touching.
You swallow, just barely stifling the urge to jolt back. It’s so rare for him to be close to you like this without your exo-pack in the way, and the feel of his hot breath ghosting against your lips like this sends a little thrill down your spine.
“Shut up,” You grumble, before clambering off the bed and sinking to your knees in front of him.
Jake’s eyebrows shut up, his grin turning sharp and anticipatory. “Yes, ma’am. Who am I to interrupt your scientific exploration, huh?”
Scientific exploration, you think to yourself. Yes, that makes sense. That’s all this is. Jake is just helping you so that you don’t make a total fool of yourself if it comes to intimacy with other Na’vi, because he’s your friend and he cares about you.
You shuffle closer to him on your knees, and reach out to tentatively take a hold of his cock. Like this, you’re able to get an even closer look – it’s such a pretty shade of jewel blue, all patterned with azure stripes and dotted with those lovely bioluminescent white dots. There’s even a little cluster of phosphorescent white freckles near the pretty pink tip, and you lean in to admire the way they glow.
Up close like this, you can see that there are veiny little ridges all along the shaft. You trail your fingers over those little bumps curiously, jerking your head back when Jake’s hips twitch, pushing his cock further into your hand.
“Fuck,” He breathes, “Sorry, honey. Keep going.”
Jake’s cock is so hard, harder than any human dick you’ve ever felt. It’s like holding a goddamn lead pipe all wrapped up in velvety soft skin. You can’t stop staring at the delicate little glowing white freckles, fascinated with the way they pulse in time with the twitch of his pretty pink cockhead. You’ve never actually thought of a cock as beautiful before, and you resent the fact that it’s fucking Jake that’s changed your mind.
You look up at him, his swollen cock cradled in your hands. “Do you–” You break off, swallowing. “Do you really think I could take something like this? Maybe you were right earlier. This might be out of my league.”
Jake’s expression softens a little at that, and he reaches out to rest his hand on top of your head. His thumb strokes over your scalp softly, soothingly.
“That’s quitter’s talk, kid,” His tone is antagonising and completely at odds with the softness of his touch. It’s the kind of tone he uses when he’s challenging you during your bouts of bicking. “You haven’t even tried yet. We’ll get you ready for it.”
He’s only trying to help, and yet you feel excited heat curdle low in your belly. You want his help so much more than you had expected – you don’t know what getting you ready for it involves, but you crave it.
“Okay.” You breathe.
He taps your cheek with his index finger, all fond and soft as you turn your attention back down to his erection in your hands. Your grip is still a little uncertain; you barely know what you’re doing. This is so far outside of your past experience.
When your grip firms, Jake grunts softly and a delicate little trickle of pearlescent precum dribbles from his cockhead down over your fingers. His precum is tinged blue, which is enough of a novelty that you almost giggle at the sight of it. You use both your hands to explore his length, fingers trailing over all those delicate ridges. The little phosphorescent freckles along the top close to his tip are apparently sensitive, because when you rub your thumbs over them Jake’s hips thrust gracelessly into the air.
“Fuck,” He sighs, his big hand settling firmly over the top of your head. “That’s it. Touch the bottom of it – there’s a spongey part that feels good when it’s stimulated.”
You follow his instructions. There’s a curious swell around the base of his cock that just seems to be growing. One of your hands travels down to it curiously, splaying over it and then rubbing it at it experimentally. His hips rock forward sharply, a huff of breath leaving him as he grunts a muted, “Fuck!”
Jake is so much more expressive than you had expected him to be – but then again, you’ve never really thought of him like this. He’s almost panting as he leans back on his elbows, craning his neck so he can get a look at what you’re doing. One of his sharp incisors is digging into the soft swell of his lower lip, a little furrow between his brows that deepens every time you rub at his erection.
“What is this?” You wonder, prodding curiously at the soft, spongey tissue around the base of his cock.
He huffs a laugh, rocking his hips a little further into your hands. “Weird, isn’t it? Come on, I thought you ‘studied the People for years’ – don’t you know what this is?”
You flush, averting your gaze from his slightly mocking eyes. “You– no, I don’t… I mean, it was more from an anthropological point of view–”
Jake purses his lip in a little pout – it’s a mockingly sympathetic look. “Na’vi men don’t have scrotums, honey. Instead we have these weird little squishy parts. To hold the cum, I guess, I don’t know. Never really asked. Look, press down on it.”
Despite the less than satisfactory explanation, you press the tips of your fingers a little harder into the soft swell around his cock. More precum bubbles out of the little slit on the top of his cock, spilling over as though you’ve just squeezed it out of the squishy base.
“Oh,” You breathe, before looking up at him with an impish sort of expression. “I always knew you had no balls.”
That wipes the stupid smug look off Jake’s face, although he tilts his head back and snorts a laugh. “Oh, you’re such a dickhead.”
Your face melts into a grin, your head all tilted back as you watch him laugh. This feels more like your normal dynamic, and you relax where you’re kneeling between his thighs. It’s reassuring to know that even with his hard dick in your hands dribbling precum all over you, your friendship remains unstrained.
Finally, you lean forward and lick a stripe up the underside of his cock. It’s more experimental than anything; you want to feel that velvety soft skin under your tongue, to see how it tastes. The swollen flesh of his dick is hot, the weight of it pleasantly hefty on your tongue. You’re a little surprised to find that it tastes similar to human dicks that you’ve experienced before; a little more earthy, perhaps, a little sweeter to taste.
Jake tilts his head back with a little grunt, his fingers tightening a little in the roots of your hair. Encouraged by his reaction, you wrap your lips around the pretty pink tip and suckle there. Jake’s stomach muscles tense, his hips making an aborted rocking movement; he only barely manages to hold himself back from shoving his cock right down your throat by sheer force of will.
He lets out a startled laugh, his surprise getting the best of him. “Fuck. Oh shit, you’re hungry for it, aintcha?”
Your cheeks heat, and you pull your mouth off his cock so you can scowl up at him. He’s bigger than you’re used to, so you have to reach up and wipe a trail of drool off your chin thanks to your mouth being stretched so wide.
“Don’t be an asshole,” You whine, narrowing your eyes. “Stop making fun of me.”
“Okay, okay, okay,” He concedes, his hips flexing slightly to bring his cock closer to your face again. “Keep sucking on it, I won’t say another word. Come on, you were doing so well. How much of it can you take?”
He’s playing on your own scientific curiosity, and you hate to say it but it’s working. You don’t know how much of it you can take, but you’re so eager to find out. It doesn’t help that you’re horny; you can feel the tewng Kiri had made for you growing damp where it’s tucked between your legs, and you shift on your knees restlessly. You’re so aroused that you can feel your clit pulsing, and it’s starting to seriously affect your decision-making skills.
You shuffle forward again, and dip your head so you can take his cock into your mouth once more. A quick, nervous glance up at Jake shows that his eyes are all scrunched up, his brow pinched together as his mouth lolls open. You’ve never seen an expression like this on him, and you’re startled by the flood of heat that coils in your belly and between your legs. He likes this – obviously, you’re doing something right. It seems like Na’vi men really aren’t that different to human men, after all.
When you suckle softly at the tip of his cock, your tongue stroking curiously at the underside of the mushroomy tip, a soft rumble of a moan is torn from Jake’s throat. You take that as your cue to take all of him in your mouth as best as you can, giving one more enthusiastic suckle to the tip before swallowing him down. You only get about a quarter of the way down before you have to pull back and try again. Your mouth is stretched obscenely wide around the girth of him, and you swear you can feel the weight of his dick pulsing on your tongue.
“Oh, goddamn.” Jake grunts over your head. His thighs twitch, enclosing around you and keeping you pinned there. He’s so fucking big over you, it feels as though it’s giving you a headrush.
You suck him as best as you can, but your jaw is starting to ache from being hinged so wide. You can barely even manage half of his cock in your mouth, even when you really try. You alternate between stroking his length and suckling on the head of his dick, looking up at him through your watering eyes as you attempt to gauge his reactions. The swell at the base of his cock has engorged even further, and you prod at it curiously with one hand as you work his length with the other. It’s firm but oddly spongey, and everytime you poke at it Jake’s whole cock twitches.
You’re still all caged in by his big thighs bracketing your head and shoulders, breathing heavily through your nose as his cock weighs heavily on your tongue. His hips make the sweetest little aborted rocking motions, like he wants nothing more than to let go but is trying his best to restrain himself for your sake.
But then you suckle at the head, the flat of your tongue dragging over the slit on the tip of his dick in the same motion as you twist your fist around the base of his cock, right where the little swell is. The grunt that’s torn out of Jake’s throat is positively feral, and his hips twitch up to force his fat cock further into your mouth.
It chokes you, and you gag once before blinking up at him with teary eyes. You shoot a panicked look up at him, cheeks bulging and drool overflowing down your chin.
“Oh, Jesus, fuck,” He tosses his head back so he can’t see you, forcing his hips back down to the bed and holding himself very still. “Don’t fucking look at me like that-”
You haul your head back, mouth popping wetly off his cock as you cough. “You nearly fucking suffocated me, dickhead-!”
“Sorry, sorry,” He gasps, his chest heaving as he pets blindly at your hair. “Was my cock too big for you?”
“Ugh,” You slap at the inside of his thigh, making him jolt. “You are actually unbearable–”
Jake just laughs, before leaning forward and wrapping his big hands around your forearms. He uses his grip to pull you up, lifting you right off the ground and onto the bed beside him.
“Jake!” You complain, trying to wiggle your way out of his hands. “I wasn’t finished!”
“You can finish sucking it later, sweetheart,” He grunts, clambering up on the mattress after you, the muscles of his thighs flexing as he crouches over you. “But this isn’t just about me, is it? I promised I’d get you ready, didn’t I?”
“Yeah,” You say in a weak sort of whisper, wiggling a little bit as Jake looms over you. He presses softly on your chest, pushing you to lay on your back beneath him. “Yeah, you did.”
Jake pauses then, his big golden green eyes flicking over your face. Whatever he sees has his expression softening, some of that feral hunger mellowing out as his big hands land on your knees.
“Spread your legs for me,” He whispers, his fingers squeezing lightly around the soft flesh of your thigh. “Nice and wide, come on.”
Your knees drop open without thought, breath catching in your chest. You don’t even have the wherewithal to feel self-conscious before Jake pushes himself down so that his big shoulders are bullying their way between your legs, keeping you all spread out for him.
Jake reaches for the strings of your tewng, and unties it much more efficiently than you had managed to untie his. You wince a little when he peels it back, cheeks flushing when you feel the way it sticks to your slick, aroused pussy. He laughs softly, before leaning his head against your knee and inhaling deeply.
“Fuck,” He breathes, his eyelids fluttering shut as his nostrils flare. “Oh, shit.”
“Are you fucking smelling me?” You hiss, embarrassment swelling. “Oh god, you’re such a perv, what is wrong with you–”
“Shut up a second,” Jake grunts, wiggling his way closer until his wide, flat nose is pressed right up against you. He inhales again, his chest rumbling as he sniffs at the slickness at your entrance. “Jesus Christ, kid. You’re so wet. Is this all from sucking my cock?”
You close your thighs hard, trying to squeeze his head in revenge. “No! Asshole. You said you could smell me earlier!”
“Yeah,” Jake snorts a laugh, his ears flicking against the soft flesh on the inside of your thighs. He doesn’t seem bothered by the way your thighs are squeezing around his head at all. “I’ve been smelling you for years, sweetheart. It’s all part of being Na’vi. But it’s a little different with my head between your legs.”
You barely even have time to let the whole ‘smelling you for years’ thing sink in before Jake bats at your knees, spreading you wide again. He might not be sniffing at you anymore, but his eyes are wide and sharp and analytical as he holds your thighs open – he’s looking at your cunt thoughtfully, inspecting you.
“Jake,” You complain, trying to wiggle your hips away. “Quit staring-”
“I’m evaluating.” He mumbles, grabbing at your hips to keep you still as he squints at you. His fingers prod at your folds, rubbing over the swollen bump of your clit and humming when you shiver. “Your cunt is small, honey. A Na’vi cock is gonna stretch you real wide.”
His big thumb rolls lazily over your clit, before his face pushes closer. His eyelids flutter as he inhales again, his touches to your clit growing more insistent. It feels good, and you bite at your lip as you watch him work his big fingers on you.
“What if-” You begin, before losing some of your nerve. You force yourself to swallow, and try again. “What if I want to be stretched real wide?”
A beat, and then Jake drops his head with a soft groan.
“Fuck,” He breathes, hot against the inside of your thigh. “Yeah. We can arrange that, I guess.”
When his fingers trace over your outer lips you jerk, the touch catching you by surprise. The sudden movement causes him to make a rumbling sound in his chest, almost like a warning, and you still. You can feel his breath ghosting over the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, and you shiver just a little when he kisses along your outer lips. It’s the anticipation that’s getting to you more than anything, every nerve firing as you wait for his next touch.
When his middle finger prods at you, you take a breath and hold it. He presses in slowly, the large digit sinking in up to the knuckle. You’re wet and eager and excited, and so it goes relatively easy; even so, one of his fingers is the equivalent to two of yours, and you whine softly at the stretch of it.
“That’s it,” Jake encourages, his spare hand stroking over your thigh. “Aw, look at you. Trembling ‘cause of a single finger–”
You grunt – your irritation with him washes away the pleasant tingly feeling that his thumb rolling over his clit is building.
“Gimme another,” You demand, leaning your head back against the mattress as you try to push your hips back towards him. “I can take another one.”
“Take it easy, tiger,” He says, his stupid handsome face contorting in a smirk. “You’ll get another when you’re ready.”
“I’m ready now-”
“Shut up,” He grumbles, but he says it with a little chuckle. “Why do you always think you’re right?”
“Because I am always right- oh!” You break off, sucking in a startled breath when Jake’s big mouth encloses over your clit and sucks.
His tongue is big and wet and rough, and you choke out a pathetic sort of moan, your hips twitching into his mouth. He’s just so good with his tongue, it makes your breath stutter and rattle in your chest. When he sucks at your clit, you sit up on your elbows so that you can watch him. He meets your gaze and throws you a cheeky wink as he laps at you, and you just know that he feels you physically react to it by the way he laughs a little into your cunt.
“Jake,” You wheeze, squeezing your eyes shut. “I– oh, god-”
Irritatingly, he just pulls back a little and laughs. “Can’t believe you had the neck to call me a perv when you get this wet at the thought of a big alien dick splitting you open.”
You draw your leg back to try to kick his head, but it seems like he expects that move from you because he catches your calf with his free hand and tugs it over his shoulder. When he dives back in face first, he laps and sucks at you so eagerly that you fist your hand in his hair reflexively as you twitch against him. All you can do is hang on for dear life as he devotes everything he has to eating you out.
You’re so distracted by the feeling of him suckling at your cunt that the next finger he presses inside you takes you completely by surprise. Though you had been demanding another finger, the stretch of it stings a little. Two Na’vi fingers feel like the equivalent of a human cock, and you writhe a little, your breath stuttering as you push eagerly into his fingers despite the stretch of it.
You squeal and your hips buck, but Jake uses the hand that’s not knuckle deep inside of you to press on your hip and pin you down, keeping you still as he suckles at your cunt.
“Fuck!” You gasp, trying to tilt your hips away from his mouth. It’s too much, too fast, but he holds you still and forces you to take it until you’re trembling in his hands. “Feels – ah! – good.”
“‘Course it does,” He grunts, his mouth twitching into a grin against you. “I told you I’d take care of you, didn’t I?”
He mouths along the lips of your pussy, his teeth grazing and scratching at the sensitive skin just right. You make a noise that sounds embarrassingly close to a sob, and feel Jake grinning into the soft flesh of your pussy.
“Another?” He asks, tilting his head up to look at you. His eyelids flutter up at you, the picture of innocence as though he’s not currently stuffing you full and making you cry around his fingers.
“I don’t–” You start thickly, “I don’t know–”
“That’s okay,” He coos at you. “Leave it up to me, yeah?”
“Yeah,” You say immediately, muscles melting back into the mattress as you give into him. “Yeah, okay.”
“Atta girl,” He hums, ducking his head back down and tracing your folds with his tongue, pulling them into his mouth and suckling. You relax a little, humming your pleasure. But then Jake is digging his tongue into the top of your folds and locating the nub of your clit with absolute precision, and you arch your back with a little scream.
He laughs, because he’s a bastard, but doesn’t so much as pause. He’s relentless, devoting everything he has to your clit. He laps at it, stiffens his tongue to a point and flicks at it, wraps his lips around it again and sucks. When he introduces his teeth and grazes it, you’re gone; your whole body seizes up and you keen as you come, but even then Jake doesn’t pull away. He laps and suckles at you until you’re gasping and writhing from the overstimulation.
You can’t catch your breath after your orgasm because his mouth is still busy with your clit. While your head is still spinning from the pleasant white haze of your orgasm, Jake pushes a third finger into you. The slide is made easier by how slick you’ve gotten, but you still have to bite back the squeal that wants to escape from between your teeth, tossing your head back desperately into the mattress and whining.
Finally, he pulls away from your clit, and you’re able to breathe again.
“Nice,” He breathes, resting his chin on your lower belly and grinning at you as he works his fingers deeper. “Look at you – stretched real wide.”
The entire lower half of his face is wet and shiny from your slick and his own spit, and he looks absolutely obscene as he grins. His tongue pokes out and licks the mess off of his lips, crooking his fingers into the spongey area at the front of your inner walls and snickering as you squeal.
“Jake,” You whimper, turning your face away and nuzzling into the blankets all bunched up by your head. “It’s… it’s so much, it’s too much–”
“Nah, honey, you’re doing fine,” He breathes, reaching out to catch your chin. He pulls your face out of your little shield of blankets so that he can see you properly. “You were right, weren’t you? You can take it, you can take it so well.”
His eyes go half-lidded when he watches you take his fingers. It’s so overwhelming, and yet you spread your legs wider and lift your knees, silently hoping he’ll take it as the invitation that it is and fuck you harder. He complies happily, and the wet, squelching sounds that come from his fingers in your cunt only seem to work Jake up even further.
“Fuck,” Jake grunts, raising himself up on his knees so that he can shuffle further up your body, all hunched over you as his fingers work deeper inside you. “Lift up your top.”
You don’t know what the point of lifting it up would be when the beaded weave of it is all splayed out around your chest, completely baring your tits. You make a face at him, though you’re all sweaty and slack-jawed and you’re pretty sure it doesn’t have the effect you want it to have because Jake’s irises just dilate further.
“Why?” You mumble, humping your hips greedily into his fingers in an attempt to get him touching your clit again.
When you don’t move to adjust your top, he does it for you. He leans over you, shoving the delicate beaded strands up so that your chest is bare and uncovered.
“Let me suck on your tits.” He grunts, lowering his head and wrapping that big, skilled mouth of his around your left breast.
His tongue is rough and hot and wet, and the suction against your nipple is enough to rip a startled gasp right out of your mouth. It feels good, better than you had expected, and you moan as he mouths insistently at your tits.
“You’re like–” You gasp, eyes squeezing tight. “Fuck, you’re like a baby.”
That makes him snicker, though he doesn’t pull back from your breasts.
“Yeah.” He mumbles into your chest. “I’ve heard that one before.”
He presses harsh, biting kisses all along your left tit, his free hand kneading at your other breast like a fucking cat. He nips and sucks along the swell of your breast, leaving little bruises in his mouth’s wake before wrapping his lips around your nipple again and sucking.
“Fuck,” He moans, nuzzling at your chest. “Why didn’t you tell me you had tits like this, huh?”
The angle of his fingers shifts, and you let out a startled, choked gasp as they press right into that spongey part at the back of your cunt that has your legs shaking. He’s still grunting into your tits as he rubs the pads of his fingers against your insides. His thumb lands on your sensitive, swollen clit and rubs hard, and you nearly cry out as your back bows and you push eagerly into his touch.
“Fuck yes. Arch your back a little more, come on. Look at you going nice and tight around my fingers.” He groans, watching your hips hump against his hand.
“Holy fuck.” You choke, grabbing at the sheets beneath you. It’s too much and not enough, and your hips keep undulating like they can’t decide whether to twitch away from the stimulation or to go back for more.
“Fuck, just look at you riding my hand.” Jake mutters, nipping at your tits once more before pulling back to look down at the way you’re moving into him. “You gonna do that around my cock?”
“Yes,” You wheeze, eyes blowing wide at the thought. “Yes. Are you– are you gonna put it in?”
That makes Jake snicker meanly, which isn’t what you had been expecting. His mouth is so hot and searing against your skin, his fingers working you up slowly and steadily as he works you up.
“Not yet, honey,” He grunts, “You’re taking it like a champ, but you need a bit more practice, I think.”
Disappointment settles thick and heavy in your stomach, but it doesn’t last too long before it’s washed away by pure liquid pleasure. His fingers feel so good, filling you up so well. It feels like he’s fingerfucking the thoughts right out of your head, eyes rolling back in your head as he insistently rubs at you.
Jake’s mouth closes around your breast again, suckling lazily as his fingers fuck you steadily. Movement catches your eye, and you look down to see that Jake is now fisting his own cock with his free hand. The sight sends an electric little rush straight down your spine, and you arch your back as that sweet heat begins building and tightening in your lower belly.
You’re so aroused that you swear your pussy is twitching, and you’re so close to your own orgasm that you let your impatience get the better of you. Your hips jerk wildly, and you clutch at his shoulders and cry out as his fingers hit that one spot inside you that makes you feel gooey inside. Your eyes are half-closed as you hump your pussy back on Jake’s hand, letting out satisfied little cries as Jake fists and tugs at his cock like a desperate man.
The pleasure sitting in your lower belly is starting to coil tight, and your movements get a little sloppy as you desperately chase your release on Jake’s fingers. The pleasure is so close to cresting when Jake bites down on your breast in the same moment as he presses his fingers in deep as his thumb rolls over your clit. Your nipples are hard and sensitive already from all of Jake’s pawing and sucking at them, so the combination of his biting kisses and the overwhelming way he twists his fingers inside of you makes you think you might actually explode.
It only takes two more hard thrusts of his fingers before you’re tossing your head back and shaking apart with a short little scream, your entire body drawing up tight and tensing so hard that you can hardly see. Jake keeps his fingers moving, his own cock rutting into his other hand as he groans.
It feels like you’re cumming forever, the ecstasy drawn out by Jake’s clever fingers as they drag along your insides and light up every nerve and sweet spot you have. The slick sounds of him working his cock with his fist are mostly drowned out by the soft, breathy moans that you can’t keep quiet. He’s not very good at keeping himself quiet either though; your own ears are pricked up for the quiet, pleasured grunts that fall from his lips as his eyes dart over your face to your chest to the place where his fingers are disappearing inside of you.
Your clit grows oversensitive, and you wince as you reach to push at his wrist. “Jake–”
He obediently pulls his fingers out of you, leaving you dripping and clenching down on nothing. You hadn’t expected to feel so empty, and you whine in mindless complaint.
“Almost there,” He grunts, gasping wetly as he tugs at his cock. “Push your tits together for me.”
Watching him fall apart between your legs is so compelling, and you watch with wide eyes as he shivers, his ears twitching as his eyebrows creep higher and his mouth falls open. You do as he says without thought, grabbing at your breasts and pushing them together for him. Your head is still fuzzy and stupid, and you watch him with wide, guileless eyes as he moans above you.
Jake’s eyes have gone unfocused as the motion of his hips stutter and falter, but he’s still staring between your legs and at your tits as he fists his cock roughly, far harsher than you were when you were touching him. You watch avidly, your breaths hiccuping eagerly as you watch him twist his fist around the head of his cock.
When his whole body locks up as he strains against his orgasm, his hips spasming wildly, you almost flinch when a jet of hot cum bursts from his dick. The sheer amount of it surprises you, given his much larger size; he makes an absolute mess of you. His cum is a phosphorescent white-blue, glowing softly where it runs in rivulets over your exposed tits and ribs. You stare at it, fascinated, before raising your head to blink at Jake – you notice the swollen part at the base of his cock has deflated almost entirely, to the point that it’s hardly noticeable anymore.
“Shit,” Jake breathes, his chest still heaving. His face is still slack and pleasured, and he rolls to the side so that he can lay out beside you. He’s so big that most of his legs are hanging off your bed, but he still pulls you close to his chest and leaves his arm draped over your waist.
“Oh my god.” You mumble, staring wide-eyed at the ceiling.
Jake just hums, but you can feel him raise his head up so he can look down at you. His eyes trail over the veritable puddle of cum that he’s sprayed all over your tits and belly, and you can see the way his mouth twitches into a smirk.
“We shouldn’t have done that,” You whisper. Your brain is still slow and sort of stupid, but panic is beginning to seep in now. “Oh god. Fuck, are you sure Neytiri won’t mind?”
Jake snorts a laugh, though it’s a little lethargic. He’s curling himself around you as though he has no intentions of leaving anytime soon, and you hurry to stretch over to grab the CO2 respirator he had tossed lazily on the bedside locker. He takes it when you shove it at him and takes a lazy sip of air, before tossing it aside once more so that he can press his face into your throat and inhale.
“It was her idea,” He says, his voice a little muffled in your neck. “So no, she ain’t gonna mind.”
“It was her…” You start to repeat, your brain grappling wildly with that idea. It seems spectacularly unlikely, yet Jake isn’t the type to lie about something like that. But why on earth would his wife encourage him to do something like that?
As if he had heard your unspoken question, Jake sighs into your neck. “Why’re you surprised she’s worried about you? Didn’t I tell you before that we’d look after you, huh?”
That actually ignites a warm feeling of butterflies in your belly, and you bite on your lip to hide a smile. Oh, you have no idea how you’ve managed to get so lucky with your friends.
“I should shower,” You sigh, glancing down at the sticky mess he’s left all over you.
Jake’s arms tighten around you as if it’s a reflex reaction, except then he doesn’t let go. “Nah. Leave it. We can shower in the morning.”
“I’m gross,” You complain, wrinkling your nose as you reach for an old t-shirt that’s crumpled up by your pillow to wipe away the worst of the cum. The second part of what he had just said registers with you a moment later, and you glance up at him in surprise. “You’re staying the night?”
“Mmph.” Jake groans, tugging you closer again. He’s so goddamn big and overbearing that you can’t wrestle him off you, so you end up going limp and defeated in his arms. “Good fuckin’ luck tryin’ to move me.”
“Dick,” You grumble, but your own eyes are beginning to sleepily slide shut too. “I’m pretty sure I stink right now.”
There’s a pause, and then a wet, rough sensation on your throat. Your eyes fly open as you screech, arms windmilling to slap at his head.
“Are you licking me–”
“Taste fine,” He mumbles, before tugging you closer and yawning. “Taste like me.”
That leaves you genuinely speechless. How the fuck are you even supposed to react to that? At a loss, you end up just laying there gaping at the ceiling on your tiny, pathetic little bunk that’s currently creaking dangerously under the weight of your big stupid friend as he starts to snuffle sleepily beside you. If he hadn’t just given you the best orgasm you’ve had in years, you might be a little more annoyed.
You’ve just begun to think that Jake must have fallen asleep when he shifts, his tail coming up to curl lazily around your thigh. It seems almost like a subconscious gesture, except that his fingers chase after it, leaving soft trails of heat in their path.
“Next time,” He mumbles, his voice low and gravelly as he slips towards sleep, “Wear your sexy little panties.”
You tilt your head back to look up at him, hardly daring to breathe. “Next time?”
Jake blinks those pretty golden green eyes open just so he can peer sleepily down at you. Even half-asleep, he manages to bare his teeth at you in a grin; it’s infuriating how good he looks even when drowsy.
“Aw, honey,” He says, the low rumble of his voice sending a rush of heat to your belly. “You can’t think only one time was enough, can you?”
🍓 pairing: jake sully x human fem reader x neytiri
🍓 tags: nsfw, best friend!jake, dilf jake cause i can't help myself, jealousy, allien cultural misunderstandings,size kink, alien genitalia, human x na'vi, oral sex (fem receiving), fingering, vaginal sex, threesomes
masterlist
reblogs are always enormously appreciated!
You have no idea how you’ve managed to get yourself into this position.
Well, that’s not strictly true. You suppose it all started with your best friend stuffing you full with his fingers until you had trembled apart in his arms.
You awake the morning after, loose-limbed and jelly-jointed with a sense of bone-deep satisfaction, naked limbs tangled with Jake’s big blue ones. He’s comically overlarge for your bed, his legs hanging off the edge of the mattress, and one of his big arms is looped lazily over your back.
You had expected things to be awkward afterwards, but when Jake finally stretches himself awake he just greets you with a yawn, slaps your ass, and asks if he’ll see you later on for dinner. When you agree he kisses the top of your head, wiggles his way back into his loincloth, and gives you a cheeky wink before sauntering out to return to the village.
You’re left bewildered and alone in your room. Truthfully, part of you had expected him to freak out a little over awaking naked in your bed after indulging in inappropriate activities with you the night before; maybe panic and call it all a crazy mistake. You certainly hadn’t expected him to act as though waking up with you naked in his arms was the most natural thing in the world.
You spend the day alternating between overthinking and relishing the memories of Jake’s hands on you. Good god, had you been missing out on that all along? He had seemed so casual about it all, as though it was simply a given that he would finger you to climax if that’s what you wanted.
You have to take a cold shower shortly after Jake leaves, partly to calm yourself down and partly to wash off the scent of Jake that still clings to you. If your dull human nose can pick up on it, you can only imagine that you must stink to a Na’vi, so you make sure to scrub at yourself with your berry-scented shower gel until you smell of nothing but artificial human soap.
You’re still a little nervous when you wander into the village later that day, but you’re greeted as enthusiastically as ever by the whole Sully family. Jake ruffles your hair and winks at you before clapping Neteyam on the shoulder and leading him off towards the cookfire to gather meat for the family.
You’re left with Kiri and Lo’ak, and you can’t help but smile as the kids start to shepherd you towards the usual spot where you all usually take meals.
“– and then Lo’ak fell all the way down and landed flat on his back,” Kiri is telling you a story with great relish, walking close to you. “And all the girls he had been trying to impress thought it was so funny–”
“It was on purpose.” Lo’ak blusters, picking up the pace so that he can come up on your other side and interject. “I was trying to make them laugh–”
“Oh yeah? Did you mean to burst into tears too–?”
“Shut up!” Lo’ak hisses at his sister, but it comes out as more of a whine. “I did not burst into tears!”
The familiar sound of their bickering soothes away the last of your nerves. Your shoulders loosen, and you start to smile as you follow the kids towards their usual spot for dinner. Neytiri is already sitting there with Tuk, brushing back her youngest daughter’s hair and murmuring softly to her.
Your stomach clenches at the sight of her; you have no idea how she’s going to react to you, and you have no idea how you should act around her. You’re still trying to wrap your head around the fact that Jake pleasuring you like that had been her idea, and you feel yourself start to sweat at the thought that she might act differently around you now.
As Kiri and Lo’ak approach the log where their mother is sitting, she looks up and smiles when she sees them. She really is very beautiful; her amber eyes are bright, the skin at the corner of her eyes crinkling up with joy at the sight of her children. She’s graceful even when she’s sitting down, her long limbs corded with lithe muscle as she stretches out next to Tuk.
Just the sight of her makes you feel clumsy and ungainly, and you feel your cheeks heat as you approach.
Her eyes flick from her kids to you where you’re following behind them, and you tense a little as you wait for her reaction. To your surprise, her face doesn’t contort into an expression of disgust like you had been expecting – her smile gets smaller, almost knowing, but no less genuine as you come to a halt by the log she’s sitting on.
Lo’ak and Kiri are still bickering as they flop down on a log next to their mother’s, but Neytiri is still looking at you. Her eyes flicker from your head to your toes rapidly, as though checking you for injuries.
You’re wearing the Na’vi clothes that have been gifted to you again today, and you shift a little self-consciously under her gaze. You feel more exposed than ever, and you’re hyper-aware of the subtle bruising around your tits from Jake’s teeth; you just pray that they’re not obvious to anyone else.
Neytiri reaches out to you, and you blink in bewilderment as she grabs at a string of broken beads on your top that you hadn’t even noticed before now. She peers at it critically, before looking up to your face with a small frown. For a moment you wonder if she’s angry at you, and feel your stomach sink rapidly until she speaks.
“He was gentle?” She asks quietly, and you twitch when her palm grazes the side of your breast. “He forgets himself, sometimes, and you are very weak.”
“I–” Your tongue feels too large in your mouth. You stumble over your words clumsily; your whole world has narrowed down to that one, confusing point of contact between Neytiri’s hand and the underside of your tit as she studies the broken string of beads. “He was– it was good.”
Neytiri hums, and you swear her mouth twitches as though she’s holding back a laugh. “You should have asked for it earlier. You know we would not have left you feeling neglected.”
You make an odd noise in the back of your throat, mortified. You dart a panicked look towards the kids, but Tuk has wandered over to Lo’ak and Kiri and they’re all laughing together a few feet away, blissfully ignorant of your conversation.
“I– I didn’t–”
Neytiri chooses to ignore your fumbling, instead leaning down closer to your chest so that she can tie the snapped string of your top. The back of her hand brushes over your nipple and you tremble, confused as warmth blooms in your lower belly.
“You have needs that must be met,” Neytiri murmurs, her voice low enough that it’s just for you. “You do not need to look elsewhere to have them maintained.”
Your heart leaps and your stomach flutters, and you hurriedly lower your gaze. This is far from the reaction you had expected from her, and it makes you nervous.
Stop it, you think furiously to yourself. They’re your friends! They’re married!
“Right.” You choke out, cheeks burning. “I– um… thanks.”
She nods, but then pauses. Her face is hovering close to your chest so that she can look closely at the snapped string of beads on your top, but she leans even closer as her nostrils flare. A small frown creases her brow, and her pretty golden eyes snap up to look at you. She’s so intense, and being caught up in her gaze like this has you feeling like a fly trapped in amber.
“You have used the demon soap.” She notes, still frowning.
One of her knuckles brush over your nipple as she fiddles with mending your top, and you end up jolting at the sensation as blood rushes to your face. You can only pray that she didn’t notice your reaction.
“Oh, yeah.” You choke out a reedy laugh. You know that the Na’vi don’t like the artificial, acrid smell of human soap, but you had figured it was the best way to get the scent of your activities from the night before off you. “I, uh… I reeked of Jake. Thought it would be best to wash it off before, um… coming back to the village.”
Neytiri hums with a frown, and with one last deft movement of her fingers, the broken tie on your top has been temporarily mended. However her hands linger somewhat strangely, and when she withdraws from you her wrist ends up rubbing a little oddly over the side of your neck. You have no idea what’s going on, and you have no idea how you should be reacting.
All you can do is swallow thickly, your throat bobbing against the warm skin of Neytiri’s wrist before she pulls away from you.
“It is good that Jake pleased you,” She says simply, turning her head to look casually towards the fire. When you follow her gaze, you see that Jake and Neteyam are returning from the cookfire with their hands full of food. “I worried that he would not.”
That makes you choke out a surprised laugh. “Wow. No faith in his abilities, huh?”
“It is not that,” Neytiri hums, though you can see the corner of her mouth curl in a repressed smile. “He was watching you all evening, getting worked up. I thought he may not be able to last long enough to satisfy you fully.”
That makes you laugh properly, surprised enough that you’re not able to hide your delight at hearing Neytiri roasting Jake. Your conversations with Neytiri alone don’t often poke fun at Jake, and you feel oddly thrilled by it. She offers you a small smirking smile, and you bite at your lip shyly as you return it.
You’re still stifling laughter when Jake and Neteyam reach you all again; Jake steps over to you and Neytiri as Neteyam carries his food over to the other kids.
“Hey, what’re my girls giggling about?” Jake drawls, sitting heavily next to you on the log. He’s holding several nikt'chey filled with sweet meat and vegetables in one large hand, and a little wooden carved bowl full of teylu in the other.
Neytiri grabs at a plant-based nikt'chey, but instead of eating it she passes it to you. You smile, flattered; teylu is an important food for the Na’vi, but you’ve never enjoyed the texture of the little grub worms. You’ve spent so many years sharing meals with the Sully’s, but it still surprises you when she shows that she’s noticed your preferences.
“I was asking about your performance,” Neytiri says casually, her expression growing coy. “Tawtute believes you could have been better.”
If that pricks at Jake’s pride, he doesn’t show it. He just laughs as though Neytiri has told a very funny joke, before he turns to you. He wraps an arm around your waist and hauls you up into his lap, still clutching his food in the other hand – the motion is so familiar for the both of you that he’s able to situate you across his thighs with ease, even one-handed.
Jake has been pulling you into his lap at mealtimes for a long time now, and yet this time feels different. His hand lingers around your waist, coasts briefly over your thigh. He’s always been touchy, but this time your brain keeps offering up memories from the night before; his big hot hands touching you, his mouth devouring you, his low voice murmuring insistently in your ear.
Your face burns, but you’re determined not to show it. You don’t want to be the one to make this weird.
“Now I know that’s a lie,” Jake croons, his breath warm on the back of your ear as he leans towards Neytiri. “You should have heard her cry–”
“Oh my god,” You hiss, whirling in Jake’s lap to slap at his chest hard enough that your hand stings. “I did not cry, you unbearable jackass–”
“It is normal to be overwhelmed by pleasure after so long of…” Neytiri pauses, her brow pinching just slightly as though she’s trying to remember specific phrasing that she’s heard before. “‘Not getting any.’”
Your jaw actually drops. The sound of the human phrase dropping from her lips is jarring, even more so when you know that it’s Jake she heard it from.
“Oh, you guys are the worst.” You grumble, curling into yourself in mortification.
The two of them snicker together as you scowl, and Jake pats your flank as though trying to calm an irritated cat. Neytiri, at least, bites at her lip and tries to hide her amusement.
“No shame in it, honey,” Jake says, and you can hear the stupid grin in his voice. “I’m just very good.”
You roll your eyes so hard that it almost makes you dizzy, and when you glance to the side you see that Neytiri has a similar expression on her face; this time, it’s your turn to laugh with her, with Jake as the subject of your snickering.
“Do not get too confident, ma Jake,” Neytiri croons, leaning in so that she’s resting her body against his side. “You have only pleasured her once, and it cannot have been that good – she has not said much about it.”
Jake makes a sound of pure offense even as he wraps the arm that’s not holding you around Neytiri’s shoulders. “What? Nah, she loved it. C’mon, honey, help me out here.”
Neytiri’s eyes slide to you as she takes a dainty bite of her food, and you can see the conspiratorial little smile that she’s trying to hide. Your own lips start to twitch in response, and you hide your own reaction behind your nikt'chey.
“Oh,” You say lightly, keeping your expression as neutral as possible. “He was okay.”
Instead of wounding his pride, your ribbing just makes him laugh. His arm tightens around your belly, holding you close to his chest as he ruffles Neytiri’s hair – she hisses playfully at him, though he just grins at her.
“Oh, you asshole,” He murmurs into your ear, his chest rumbling against your back as his bulk looms over you, “What, I wasn’t nice enough to you? I wouldn’t have known it from all the whimpering.”
Blood rushes to your face, and you barely suppress the urge to hide your face completely in your hands. You hold the nikt'chey up in front of your masked face in an attempt to hide, mortified when Neytiri chuckles softly.
“Alright,” She says, reaching out to pat at your thigh with her large, slender hand. “Enough. Tawtute is embarrassed.”
Jake just snickers, but mercifully gives up on his playful bantering in favour of taking a large bite of his own nikt'chey. His hand stays firmly planted across your middle, large thumb stroking over your exposed skin there every couple of moments. His touchiness isn’t anything new, but your skin is hot and sensitive and you have to fight back shivers every time he caresses your bare skin. Your stomach is alive with butterflies, shy arousal simmering at a low boil deep in your belly.
You’re antsy, and it’s only made worse by the fact that Neytiri still hasn’t removed her hand from your thigh. It just lingers there as she leans into Jake’s side, as though it’s just perfectly natural and comfortable for her to allow her touch to idle around the exposed skin of your thigh.
You wonder distantly if you’re reading too much into this. Jake has always been touchy, and it’s not that unusual that Neytiri has left her large, soft palm resting against the expanse of your thigh with her fingers curling absently around the sensitive skin of your inner knee.
Sure, it might feel as though you’re boiling up a little on the inside from the overwhelming contact of their big hands on your exposed body, but you push your reaction down the best you can. Maybe you’re just super conscious now that the nature of your relationship has changed. It seems like you’re the only one that feels that shift though, because Jake and Neytiri are so casual about the way they’re touching you, as though nothing has changed at all.
You’re so busy trying to appear calm and measured and entirely unaffected that you hardly notice when Jake pauses his eating to turn his face towards you with a curious frown. He sniffs at you once, twice, before glancing towards Neytiri and raising an eyebrow with a barely stifled smirk.
She just blinks back at him innocently, though there’s an unmistakable look of mischief about her eyes – whatever they’re communicating about silently, Jake seems to find it amusing.
The interaction flies mostly over your head, too distracted with the way Jake’s thigh flexes beneath you when he shifts on the log and the way Neytiri has started to draw absent-minded little patterns around your kneecap. While Jake has always been clingy, Neytiri has always been more reserved in herself. Now, with her touching you like this, you feel absolutely thrown. It’s like someone has turned on a white noise machine in your head; all you can hear is static.
“Sa’nu,” Tuk warbles from a few feet away. “Lo’ak is being mean to me.”
“I am not! Tuk, stop being such a snitch–”
Neytiri’s eyes turn sharp, and she whirls to glare at her children. “What is happening over there?”
Jake rests his chin on your shoulder as he allows his wife to take the lead on dealing with the children. It’s comfortable, and you allow yourself to melt back into his embrace, like usual. Everything feels so normal, as though last night was just a fever dream.
As Neytiri scolds the children, Jake turns his face so that his flat, cat-like nose is nuzzling into your temple. It’s almost like he’s heard your thoughts and wants to brush them away.
“You okay?” Jake murmurs in your ear. “Last night wasn’t too much?”
You laugh a little wheezily. “No, it– no. It was… it was great. I was only joking, before.”
“Yeah, I know.” He snorts, “You’ve never been a good liar, anyway.”
“Fuck off,” You grumble, wriggling on his lap and nudging your elbow back into his stomach. He groans, but you can tell he’s exaggerating the amount of pain he’s in. “Your dick isn’t nearly as big as your head is, you know that?”
Jake lets out a startled, full-belly laugh at that, his head tilting back as his arm tightens around your middle. He seems to find that very amusing, and he’s still snickering when he leans in to press a kiss to your temple under the strap of your mask.
Your stomach trembles a little, and you can’t help yourself from leaning back into the warmth of his chest – Jake has always expressed his affection physically, satisfying your own desperate skin hunger, but now that you’ve experienced his touch more intimately you find yourself craving more in a way that’s beginning to freak you out a little. You’ve never really thought about Jake like this before, and you can’t help but feel guilty.
After all, you’re the one who’s looking at him differently now – as far as you’re aware, nothing has changed for Jake. Though he seems very flirty, that’s the way he always is! The only reason he had touched you like that last night was because he wanted to help you out.
Neytiri turns back from the children after giving them one last warning glare, shuffling a little closer and tilting her head so she’s peering down at you. Her hand is still on your knee; it hadn’t shifted an inch even when she had turned to hiss at the children, and now she squeezes at it a little to get your attention.
“What is funny?” She wonders.
You clear your throat, a little flustered, and mutter, “Your husband is a moron.”
Neytiri’s lips twitch, and she darts an amused look over your head at Jake as his head looms over your shoulder.
“Yes,” She agrees. “He is a skxawng.”
“Alright, alright,” Jake says hastily, adjusting you on his lap so that you’re pulled right back against his chest, “No ganging up on me, thanks. Besides, I know you both love me.”
Neytiri makes eye contact with you, then gives you a conspiratorial little eye roll. You giggle, impossibly pleased with the sense of camaraderie between the two of you. You even push your knee a little further into her hand, enjoying the contact.
“Will there be more dancing later?” You wonder, turning to look back at Neytiri with a smile. You remember the wondrous dancing from the night before, and find yourself hoping to catch a glimpse of the mating season dancing once more.
Neytiri hesitates, her head tilting to the side like she’s confused. “You are very interested in mating season,” She says slowly. “Even still.” She turns and gives Jake a strange look – one that’s almost chiding.
You’re not sure you know what she means, so you just shrug. “The dancing was pretty. I enjoyed watching it.”
Neytiri hums thoughtfully, her mouth twitching. Her chiding expression turns playful, and she leans in to murmur to you, “We will dance for you later, if you wish to see it.”
You almost do a double take at that, eyes growing wide as you choke on your own saliva in surprise. Behind you, Jake laughs at your reaction, his fingers stroking absently over the soft skin of your belly. It takes a moment for you to register that Neytiri must have been joking, and then you laugh nervously, unsure how to respond.
Jake just snickers, and leans over to nudge at Neytiri’s shoulder. You’re still not used to how beautiful Jake and Neytiri are, how perfectly matched. They ebb and flow against each other, always communicating with just looks or gestures. Jake has always been pure raw passion, while Neytiri is more intimate and reserved about her emotions. They compliment each other so well, something you’ve always admired about them.
You’ve always thought that you would love to find something like that for yourself, but now it’s like your thoughts have taken a turn. Now it’s like you’re looking at them and wanting them; it feels as though your brain is rotting from the inside out.
The village is bustling full of life, the smell of sweet meat sizzling and the sounds of the People laughing and children squealing filling the air for dinnertime. You force yourself to relax in Jake’s arms, trying to act casual in the face of his and Neytiri’s teasing – fucking your friend was one thing, but now you find yourself utterly flustered at the thought of him and his wife dancing for you, of thinking about where things might go from there.
It’s a mercy when Lo’ak shuffles over, his presence promptly putting an end to any suggestive conversation. You’re almost desperately grateful; you don’t think you’d be able to survive much more of their teasing.
Lo’ak is quiet when he settles next to Jake, a little moody. It seems that he’s come over less because he actually wants to talk to his parents, and more because he’s trying to escape Kiri, who is still teasing him over whatever embarrassing mistake he had made while training.
Undeterred by Lo’ak’s scowl, you lean over and give him a little smile. You’ve always had a soft spot for Lo’ak – you love all the Sully kids, of course, but Lo’ak has always been your secret little favourite. The kid is funny, so like Jake, and so starved for recognition in a way that you recognise from yourself. When you reach out to pat his head, he leans into your touch with a little pout.
“Are they bullying you?” You ask teasingly, brushing his braids back in an attempt to neaten them.
Lo’ak just scowls even fiercer, but he doesn’t move away from your hand. “Kiri’s being an asshole.”
“Hey!” Jake says sharply. “Don’t talk like that about your sister.”
You offer Lo’ak a sympathetic little smile, before leaning over to whisper, “Are you still upset about falling out of that tree?”
Lo’ak’s ears pin back as he winces, clearly embarrassed. “I didn’t fall. I slipped.”
“Ah,” You murmur, fighting a smile. “Of course. Completely different.”
From there, the evening mellows into a familiar, laid-back atmosphere that you’re familiar with. Spending time with the Sullys like this has always been easy, and you find yourself almost deliriously relieved that nothing has changed. You had been so anxious that sleeping with Jake would have totally ruined the dynamic between you and the whole family.
To tell the truth, you’re not quite sure what to make of the fact that it hasn’t.
You sit sprawled across Jake’s lap all evening, with one of Neytiri’s hands settled over your knee. Jake is always pulling you across his large striped thighs, supporting you with a massive arm around your back, but this somehow feels even more intimate than usual; or maybe it’s all in your head.
You try not to think too hard about it. After everyone has finished eating, the children all come to gather around Jake as he tells stories. Both you and Neytiri exchange eyerolls frequently – Jake is predictable, and always chooses the same tales to tell.
“—Your mother tried to kill me when we first met. She thought I was a moron, but I thought she was beautiful.”
Tuk looks absolutely enchanted by the story, despite having heard it a hundred times. Even Kiri, at the peak of her teenage angst, is listening with a little smile on her face.
Neytiri snorts, but she’s smiling too. “I still think you are a moron, yawntu.”
The kids laugh, and you hide a smile of your own. You feel at home here, with Jake’s family like this. That usual sense of pervasive loneliness that usually haunts you is entirely absent, chased away by Jake and Neytiri’s warm touches.
“What about um’ma?” Tuk asks, shifting closer with a bright smile on her face as she turns her attention towards you. “Tell us about how you met um’ma, dad!”
You had been getting sleepy, but her question wakes you right up. 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.
“Oh, god,” You breathe with a little wince. “No, that’s not–”
But it’s too late. Jake is only delighted to tell that story, too.
“The first time we met, your um’ma walked right past me.” Jake says, launching into his story before you can stop him. “I was trying to catch her attention, and she didn’t even look at me once.”
“I didn’t see you–!” You attempt to protest, but Jake steamrolls ahead.
“I was in my wheelchair, so I was shorter than her–”
“Shorter than um’ma?” Tuk whispers in what sounds like bewilderment, her big eyes swinging towards you as if she wants to double-check your height.
“–and she didn’t see me when she turned around, so she actually elbowed me in the face when I tried to get closer to her to talk to her. Gave me a bloody nose and everything.”
To your horror, the kids are acting as if they’re already heard this before. Neteyam is nodding along with Jake, and Lo’ak is already snickering. Tuk looks as enchanted with this story as she did with Jake’s story about meeting their mother, starry-eyed as she leans on Kiri. Your stomach flips – how often has Jake told them this story?
“I was trying to impress her, and she didn’t even look at me once.” Jake is still laughing, leaning forward over your shoulder so he can see his kids properly. “So you can imagine how embarrassed I was, after the pretty girl I had been trying to chat up completely ignores me and then nearly breaks my goddamn nose–”
You blink, startled. What?
Jake has teased you about your first meeting several times over the years, always delighting in the fact that you had been so awkwardly clumsy, but you had never actually heard him recount the full thing from start to finish before. You had certainly never heard it told like that before.
“You were flirting with me?” You blurt out. For a moment you’re worried that you had misinterpreted what he meant and that he might laugh at you, but no such thing happens.
Instead, Jake tips his head back and lets out a groaned little sigh. “Oh, come on. You didn’t even notice?”
Lo’ak looks delighted with this news, and nudges at Neteyam. “Dude! Dad has no game!”
Jake shoots Lo’ak an irritated sort of look, his pride clearly somewhat stung, but his youngest son doesn’t even seem to notice. Lo’ak seems to be too busy reveling in the fact that his father isn’t as smooth as he thought; in fact, he looks far too pleased about this little revelation.
“I have loads of game.” Jake argues, turning to the rest of his family as though seeking backup. Neytiri looks down, visibly hiding a smirk, and says nothing at all. “Your um’ma is just a difficult woman to impress.”
You’re still gawking at him, bewildered by the turn of the conversation. You’ve been friends with Jake for a long time, and he’s always been playfully flirty – that’s just his character. He makes cheeky jokes, he’s touchy, he calls you teasing nicknames, he gives you affectionate little kisses. That’s just Jake! He’s always been like this! And yet right now, he sounds as though he’s being serious about his flirting.
You look at Neytiri, still a little bewildered, but she has a wry sort of smile on her face as Jake defends himself. And that confuses you even more. Her hand is still on your thigh, her fingers stroking absently over the soft skin there. The caress is sure and unhurried; it’s a kind of patience possessed by predators who are sure of their prey. You’ve never experienced a touch like this from Neytiri before. Your skin is a little too tight, your breaths a little too shallow.
You feel like you’re losing your mind. It’s almost a relief when you’re interrupted, although you hardly even notice Ola’netu’s approaching figure until he’s stopped only a few feet from where you’re all sitting.
It’s Neytiri that notices him first, as evidenced by the way her hand tightens around your thigh, but you soon feel Jake tense beneath you as well.
“Olo’eyktan,” Ola’netu greets, his head dipping as he greets Jake with the traditional greeting gesture. “I see you.”
Jake’s hands flex at your hips, but he offers Ola’netu a stiffly polite smile all the same. Foregoing any greeting of his own, Jake simply says, “What can I do for you?”
Ola’netu straightens, and his big golden eyes land squarely on you. It’s unnerving to be on the receiving end of his sharp gaze, and you swallow nervously as your cheeks flare red. It’s… a surprisingly bold move on his part, approaching you like this when you’re having dinner with the Sully’s. Jake has always been a little overprotective of you, on account of you being so much smaller and more fragile, and right now his brow is drawing into a scowl that’s honestly intimidating.
“I wish to speak to tawtute.” Ola’netu says. Though his tone is perfectly polite, the fact that he’s not actually looking at Jake is clearly making your friend antsy; he shifts under you, adjusting you on his lap, and holds you tight.
The silence that follows is awkward. You had been so blown away by the exciting strangeness of having messed around with Jake, and then the way that Neytiri had been caressing you, that you had forgotten about Ola’netu entirely.
At your side, Lo’ak straightens up from where he had been slouching lazily. He’s got a little frown on his face, though he’s clearly a little confused, and he looks so much like Jake in that moment that it’s a little bewildering. He leans in a bit closer to you where you’re sitting on Jake’s lap, and all of a sudden it’s like you have two Sully guard dogs with their ears pricked up.
“Yeah,” You say, suddenly awkward. “Right, of course.”
It’s a bit of a struggle to get out of Jake’s lap. Not only do you have his hands holding onto your waist, but Neytiri is holding your thigh and Lo’ak keeps shuffling closer into your space. You actually have to practically worm your way out of their grip, before you stand in front of them all panting with the effort. You scowl a little at Jake, and he purses his lips in that way he does when he’s annoyed about something before he offers you a quick shrug.
Ola’netu leads you a couple of steps away from the family, before stopping just out of earshot and turning to you with a smile. He even bends down so that he’s at eye level with you. The village is bustling full of life, and the sounds of the People laughing and children squealing fill the air. Despite the hive of activity around you, you’re hyper aware of the stares of the entire Sully family burning into your back.
Ola’netu must notice the fact that the two of you are being watched closely, but he gives no indication of it. “I am pleased to see you here. Can I get you food?”
“Oh,” You get a little flustered at his offer, trying hard not to look over your shoulder at the Sullys. “Um… I’ve already eaten.”
Ola’netu glances over your shoulder, presumably looking at Jake, before his eyes fall back to your face. It’s a little difficult to read him; there’s a friendly little smile on his face, but there’s a small furrow in his brow that suggests he’s confused.
“Jakesully watches you closely.” He notes, his tone careful. “He is… always looking.”
“Oh, he’s a little protective.” You laugh nervously. “Don’t mind him.”
Ola’netu’s eyes linger on your face a moment. There’s a beat of silence as nostrils flare; you’ve seen Jake do this often enough to realise that he’s scenting you. It’s an embarrassing thought, made even worse when his brows furrow.
“Ah.” He says after a moment, his head tilting a little. He looks confused, as though he doesn’t quite know what to make of you. “He has scent-marked you. Neytiri too.”
Your hand flies up to hold your neck. “They what?”
Ola’netu hums, and reaches out to brush his fingers over the spot where Neytiri’s wrist had brushed earlier. Had that been an accident? Surely she would never have done such a thing on purpose.
He’s still watching your face closely. “I do not want to… misunderstand. You always smell of Jakesully but… they have not yet claimed you?”
You nearly do a double take. Claimed you? You don’t even know how to begin unpacking that. You wonder if there’s some sort of cultural nuance that you’re missing here. Your fluency in the Na’vi language is advanced, but even still you sometimes mistranslate or misunderstand things.
“Jake is my best friend.” You say with an awkward smile, hoping that answers his question.
You think of the way Jake had stuffed your pussy full with his fingers the night before, and the way Neytiri had been so subtly brushing her fingers over your tits earlier that evening, and you wonder how on earth to explain your relationship with them. Not even you fully understand it. They’re your friends, but even you have to admit that it often feels like… more than that. They feel like home in a way that the human outpost never has, and yet you have to admit that the dynamic feels a little different now.
“They look after me.” You continue stupidly. It’s the only way you can think of to explain.
Ola’netu looks thoughtful, but he nods slowly. “I see. But they have not…”
As Ola’netu trails off, his brow furrows in a contemplative frown. It seems as though he’s thinking about his next words very carefully.
You dart a quick glance over your shoulder. It’s not much of a surprise to find Jake and Neytiri watching you closely (just like they had the last time Ola’netu had approached you), but it is somewhat of a surprise to see that the kids are all watching you with hawk-like eyes as well. You offer them an awkward, close-mouthed smile to try and ease the tension. The only one who returns it is Tuk, who throws in a cute little wave as well.
Finally, Ola’netu seems to find his words. “They have not yet mated with you, have they? I cannot… I cannot tell from your scent. You smell like Jakesully… but you always smell of him.”
Your mouth flaps open and closed moronically. Oh god. The bold line of questioning leaves you completely flustered. You hadn’t expected him to be so forthright about things, and you’re certainly not prepared to admit that you had let Jake finger you until you were limp and drooling in his arms only the night before.
“I… I don’t- I mean, no, they haven’t mated with me.” You say when you finally gather yourself enough to answer. “They’re- they’re mated with each other!”
That makes Ola’netu crack a smile, as though amused by your reaction.
“It is not unusual for a mated pair to take on a third. Jake and Neytiri have not discussed this with you?” Ola’netu asks. When you shake your head, his big golden eyes dart over your shoulder towards where Jake and Neytiri are sitting behind you. “I had thought… they act as though…”
Ola’netu doesn’t finish that thought, though you wait for him to. The resulting silence is a little awkward, but then Ola’netu creeps forward a little. He doesn’t reach for you, though it looks as though he’s thinking about it.
You shift on your feet a little awkwardly, and scratch at your elbow. Now that you’re actually in front of Ola’netu, you feel incredibly awkward. You’ve been looking at the Na’vi in a rather hungry way for a while now, and yet now that you’re faced with a male who actually seems interested in you, all you can think about is the way Jake had touched you the night before.
It’s like the floodgates have opened inside your brain. You’ve been around Jake and Neytiri for years now, and yet now you feel shivery and bubbly with simmering arousal after experiencing their attention all evening. You wonder if there’s something wrong with you.
This is your best friend and his wife! You feel like a weirdo for thinking about them like that.
“You are interested in Na’vi?” Ola’netu’s tail lashes behind him as he watches you.
You swallow thickly. Oh, you feel totally out of your depth now. You can feel the eyes of the Sullys boring into you as you speak with Ola’netu; you’re just grateful they can’t hear what you’re saying, because you don’t think you’d be able to live the embarrassment down.
“Um… Yeah.” You say faintly.
Your brain decides unhelpfully to offer up memories of Jake’s big hands and pretty blue skin from the night before, and the ridiculous size of his dick. Jake may have only touched you like that so that you could experience being with a Na’vi for the first time, but you think he may also have unintentionally ruined you for anyone else. Your mind just keeps replaying the encounter in your head like it’s a damn slideshow.
“But… you do not accept Jakesully and Neytiri?” Ola’netu speaks slowly, as though approaching a sensitive topic.
All you can do is blink, wondering if you’re misunderstanding what he’s asking you. It sounds as though he thinks that you’re the one making the final decision here, as though you’re the one with the power. The thought is comical.
“I’m not sure I…” You trail off, bewildered. “What do you mean ‘accept’ them?”
“As mates. They seem to be waiting for your decision.” Ola’netu murmurs, his eyes darting back over your shoulder towards when Jake and Neytiri are no doubt still watching. “But you must be a difficult creature to impress.”
That’s so similar to what Jake had said earlier that you find yourself floundering. That couldn’t have been what Jake had meant though, surely? You feel as though you’ve been struck dumb – the connotations of what Ola’netu is suggesting is almost more than you can handle, and yet he keeps on talking before you can actually wrap your head around it.
“Perhaps it is that you are not ready to take on a mate?” Ola’netu says, his big golden eyes peering into your face. It seems as though he’s having difficulty assessing your thoughts thanks to your alien human features. “I, too, am not ready for a mate. But if it is exploring you are interested in–”
You’re hardly listening to a word he says. You think back rather frantically to every reaction you’ve had with Jake and Neytiri for the past several years. It’s true that you’ve always been close, probably closer than any other relationship you’ve ever had in your life.
You spend almost all of your time with them when you’re not at the human outpost, you sleep in their bed when you stay over with them, their children call you um’ma. And that’s not to mention the tactile nature of your relationship with Jake. But that’s how Jake has always been, even when he was human!
Okay… maybe you can see where Ola’netu’s coming from with his assumptions.
“Wait,” You choke out, interrupting whatever the hell Ola’netu had been saying. “Hang on, are you… are you saying that everyone thinks that I’m– that Jake and Neytiri are–”
You can’t even figure out how to put your thoughts into words. You end up just standing there, gawping at Ola’netu like an idiot as your brain tries to sort all of this out.
Ola’netu frowns, tilting his head in honest confusion. “I had thought that you were mated for many years. But maybe they are just courting you?”
You positively goggle at him, struck dumb. You don’t think you could form a reply even if you wanted to.
It should be a ridiculous notion. Jake has been your friend for years! Sure, you might be closer than most friends, but that’s just how you two have always been. And Neytiri has become your friend too, treating you like family and even welcoming you into her and Jake’s bed whenever you happen to stay the night. If Ola’netu had told you this a week ago, you might have even laughed at his questions. But now, after your experimentation with Jake and all of his and Neytiri’s suggestive touches and comments today, you find yourself baffled.
You never get the chance to respond. Footsteps sound from behind you, and Ola’netu’s eyes flicker above your head as a warm body presses close to your back. You glance over your shoulder, expecting to see Jake – you’re surprised to find that it’s Neytiri who’s standing at your back, watching Ola’netu with sharp eyes.
“Come,” Neytiri murmurs to you, but her eyes remain fixed on Ola’netu. “You have not finished eating.”
You hesitate for a moment, staring up at her. You wonder if you’re losing your mind – Neytiri is so beautiful, her features sharp and bold and her golden eyes intense as she stares down Ola’netu. There’s an awkward silence, but then you start to nod.
“I’ll, um… see you later.” You say to Ola’netu, but your heart’s not in it. You’re distracted, sending uncertain glances up at Neytiri. Ola’netu nods and raises a hand to wave, but you’re already stepping after Neytiri as she leads you back towards the family with a large slender hand pressed between your shoulderblades.
Jake is sitting on the log where you left him, but he’s leaning forward with his elbows resting on his knees as he watches you return with Neytiri. He’s frowning, his ears twitching; he looks strangely alert, although some of the stiffness in his shoulders eases as you and Neytiri join him again. The kids are all gathered nearby, and you can see them exchanging looks with each other in a little silent conversation.
You feel embarrassed that they all just witnessed you chatting with Ola’netu, but you try to shake it off. You’ve got nothing to be embarrassed about, after all, and it’s not like they heard you.
“What was that all about, sweetheart?” Jake asks when you get close enough, already reaching out to try and pull you into his lap.
But for the first time, possibly ever, you resist. You pull your arm back, refusing to go, and Jake blinks at you in bewilderment. You feel sort of guilty, but your head is spinning so fast that you feel dizzy – you need space, and time to think and sort out all of these bizarre thoughts and revelations.
“I’m… I’m going to head to bed, I think.” You blurt, taking a step back.
Hurt flashes across Jake’s face, and he sits up straighter. In all your years of knowing each other, you’ve never pushed Jake away like this.
“You are not staying with us tonight?” Neytiri asks with a discontented frown. She sits down next to Jake on the log, and you think you see her nudge him hard in the side.
You shake your head, swallowing thickly. Normally, you’d be only too delighted to spend the night, but everything has happened so fast and you need time to think.
“No, I’ll just… I’ll see you guys tomorrow.” You murmur, forcing a smile as you step back.
Your expression can’t be very convincing, because the kids exchange another look before turning to look at their parents. Lo’ak stands, looking between his parents before turning to look at you.
“I’ll walk you back, um’ma–” He starts to say, but he’s cut off when Neytiri grabs his shoulder and pulls him back down.
Jake stands instead, and rests his hand on your shoulder. “I’ll walk you back.” He says, squeezing lightly.
You can’t bring yourself to refuse the offer — the forests of Pandora are deadly for a human alone, and you can’t afford to go without an escort. You bite your lip, before nodding jerkily. This is fine. Jake is just looking out for you as a friend, like he always is. You’re the one that’s acting weird! You need to pull yourself together.
The walk home is awkwardly silent. You’re lost in your thoughts, replaying every interaction you’ve had this evening and picking them apart obsessively in your head. Meanwhile, Jake ambles along at your side, matching your pace perfectly. He’s equally as quiet, but he keeps darting looks at you out of the corner of his eyes. Jake is many things, but he’s never been subtle.
By the time you reach the outpost, hardly a word has been shared between the two of you. Jake has started tapping his fingers against his thigh, and the frequency of his glances have increased yet again. He clears his throat, and finally speaks up.
“So, uh… did you enjoy dinner, honey?” He asks. The levity in his voice is rather forced, and it contrasts with the little frown creasing his forehead.
You hum, but you’re distracted. “Mm, sure. It was fine.”
Jake bites at his lip for a second, obviously thinking. His nose twitches, nostrils flaring. He leans a little closer, and you can see his pretty golden eyes dart to your neck.
“Did he touch you there?” Jaks asks. A scowl creases his brow as he reaches out to brush his fingers over your throat, right where Ola’netu had touched where Neytiri had scented.
You jerk back, and then it’s like the floodgates open. You’re unable to keep your thoughts to yourself any longer.
“What the fuck is going on, Jake?” You blurt, eyes wide and bewildered as you take a step back. “I don’t– I’m so confused. Last night was– but then today! You were so– and then Neytiri as well! I don’t understand, and then Ola’netu said– but I don’t get it–”
Jake’s expression drops, all pretence at cheerfulness abandoned. He takes a knee instantly to put himself down at your level, his eyes wide and a little panicked.
“Whoa, whoa, slow down, sweetheart. What’s the problem? Deep breath.” He says, his voice low and soothing as he tries to shush you. He reaches out and puts his hands on your shoulders, his thumbs stroking delicately over your skin.
You push his hands away, still reeling. “Ola’netu thought we were mates. As in, you, Neytiri, and me.”
You wait for a moment, and allow that to sink in. You’re not entirely certain what you’re expecting his reaction to be; will he laugh at that ridiculous notion? Will he be horrified? Disgusted?
But instead, Jake’s face wobbles, as though he can’t hide his expression fast enough.
“He… and yet he was trying to put moves on you anyway?” He says, his nose scrunching in distaste as his fangs glint in the moonlight.
You gape at him. Jake misses the point so damn often it’s like he does it on purpose, but the fact that he doesn’t see that you’re being serious about this infuriates you.
“Jake!” You hiss, fists clenching at your side. “You’re not even listening–!”
“I’m listening, I’m listening–” Jake throws his hands up in a gesture of surrender.
“You said that you’d help me– or, or that you’d help me experience Na’vi… um, bodies, and it was… it was really good, but– I thought that– I don’t know, I just– you said that you were going to guide me through it before I went messing around with other Na’vi–”
Jake’s ears have folded back against the side of his head, and he listens to you with a frown. “I didn’t think you’d actually want to mess around with other Na’vi after I took care of you–”
“Oh what, you think your dick is just that good?” You fold your arms across your chest immediately, scowling.
Jake pauses for a moment, and you see his mouth begin to twitch into a smile. Your temper flares, and you glare furiously at him.
“Don’t you dare.” You warn, already knowing that he has some smart remark planned.
Jake breathes a soft laugh, but then hastily wipes his expression clean when he catches sight of the glint in your eye. He sighs, and reaches up to scratch the back of his neck. He looks a little ridiculous kneeling in the dirt and bending over so that he’s on your level, his expression open and conciliatory.
“Honey, I don’t understand what’s wrong–”
“Stop calling me honey!”
Jake gapes at you. You’ve never shouted at him like that; in all the years you’ve known each other, you’ve never gotten so mad at him that you’d yell, and you’ve never once told him to not call you by his cutesy nicknames. For the first time, Jake seems to actually realise that you’re in turmoil over here.
“Tell me what’s wrong.” He says, and his voice has lost all trace of levity and humour. His expression is serious now, as though he’s dedicating his full attention to solving this problem.
You groan, reaching up to scrub at your face. You can barely even sort through your own thoughts in your head, you have no idea how to effectively go about communicating your feelings here. Throwing delicacy to the wind, you take a deep breath.
“I think I have a crush on you!” You yell close to hysterics. “And it’s ruining my life! I mean, fuck! I’m ruining everything just cause I can’t control myself–”
Jake’s ears twitch and his tail lashes wildly, as though he momentarily loses control of his extremities. His eyes go big and round, and you wonder if this is it – have you fucked everything up?
You had such a good thing going with the Sully family, and the thought of you ruining it just because you got flustered over Jake and Neytiri touching you in a way that was probably meant to be friendly anyway makes you feel ill.
“Baby, come on. We’re practically married anyway, a crush is a good thing.” Jake says, reaching out to take a hold of your elbows. He shuffles closer on his knees, his back bowing as he ducks down to look you in the face.
His expression is open and earnest, and there’s a faint trace of urgency in his eyes as he watches your reaction, and yet you find yourself rearing back and searching his face desperately for any hint of a lie.
“What do you–” You start to say uncertainly, but Jake keeps going before you can finish.
“The kids call you um’ma, you sleep in our bed, you do everything with us. You’re– I mean, we’re crazy for you. Can’t you see that?” Jake’s forehead is all creased up as he tries to keep your attention on him. “We’ve– we’ve been together for years–”
“What?” You blurt, bewildered. “We– no. We’ve been friends. You called me your best friend last night even when you had your goddamn face between my legs–”
“We always call each other that! It’s like… it’s like a bit or something–” He looks helplessly confused. “When you talked about Ola’netu I thought you were just curious, or that you just wanted to experiment or something–”
“Why would you not tell me!” You shriek, throwing your hands up in the air. You feel like an absolute madwoman, and Jake is regarding you like you’re something fragile about to shatter. “Oh my god– so, you and Neytiri have been married for years, and the whole time everyone has thought that I’m just some sad loser that follows the two of you everywhere–”
“No!” Jake says, and now he’s raising his voice too. “No, that’s not what I meant! I meant that you’ve been part of our family this whole time. You must have known that–”
Oh god, you’re getting overwhelmed. Confused and embarrassed tears begin pricking at your eyes, and Jake’s entire face drops when he realises that you’re about to cry.
“How would I have known that, Jake?!” You’re shouting loud enough that you’re certain the scientists inside the outpost can hear you, but mercifully no one comes to check what’s going on. “You’ve never said anything! The only time you’ve ever touched me in a way that suggests we’re more than friends is last night–!”
“It never occurred to me to say anything!” He’s clearly fighting not to raise his voice, trying to keep calm and composed. “I didn’t realise that you didn’t– baby, I have plenty of friends. How many of them spend the night in our bed, or sit on my lap? How many of them do I kiss–”
“I don’t know! You’re a friendly guy!” You yell back, painfully aware of how stupid you sound right now. “But– it doesn’t matter how touchy you were, you never actually did anything! And yet now you expect me to believe that you really wanted me all this time–”
“I didn’t think you were interested!” Jake bursts out. “You never talked about sex, not until last night! I’ve been hinting for years, I just thought that you weren’t into sex or intimacy that way– which is fine by the way, me and Neytiri never minded that, you know that we’d take you anyway we could have you–”
“I’m only human, Jake! I have– I have needs!” Your cheeks are absolutely burning, but you manage to hold eye contact with him. “I mean, you never said anything! So I’ve been sitting lonely in the human outpost while you and Neytiri have been having babies–”
“You–” Jake’s ears flick desperately, “You want a baby?”
“NO!” You yell, flustered and frustrated.
“What?” Jake breathes to himself so quietly that you nearly miss it. He shakes his head quickly, as though trying to clear his head. “Okay, okay, I screwed up, obviously. I should have been more upfront, I should have talked things through with you, I shouldn’t have just assumed we were all on the same page, I get that. But honey, you’ve always been a huge part of our family, we’ve been bringing you gifts of jewelry and clothes and food for years–”
Fuck, you feel so mixed up and confused. You run your hands frustratedly over your face, already shaking your head. Jake is getting steadily more frantic as he talks, clearly seeing that you’re beginning to withdraw.
He tries to take your hand but you step back, chewing at your lip.
“Stop. Jake, stop for a minute.” You groan, turning away from him so that you can breathe for a moment. Your breath rasps through your mask, and abruptly you feel incredibly claustrophobic.
You can’t wrap your head around any of this. Truthfully, you had been perfectly content with your life on Pandora up until a few weeks ago. Jake had satisfied your skin hunger with his caresses and cuddles, Neytiri had always made you feel welcomed around the village by providing you with pretty Omaticaya style clothes and jewelry, and you’ve always been so close to the children that you never craved any of your own. The fact that you had gone so long without any sexual intimacy is surely a testament to how happy you were with the way things were, and yet now you find your head spinning.
Does this mean that you could have had more this whole time? That all those months of craving sexual intimacy, of your growing interest in Na’vi biology, was entirely useless because you had two enormous sexy Na’vi who loved and cared for you very much just sitting right there the whole time thinking that you weren’t interested in sex? What the fuck?
“I can’t do this right now.” You whisper. You’re breathing heavily, as though all of your overthinking is taking an actual physical toll on you. “I have to– I can’t. I have to go.”
Jake’s expression drops entirely, and he pushes himself to stand, already reaching out after you. “Hang on, please. Look, kid, why don’t you just come back home, huh? We can talk things out properly, all three of us–”
You shake your head as you step backwards towards the outpost door. You probably should talk this out, but you just can’t right now. You need to get this mask off, and you need time to think to yourself about all of this and what it means for your relationships going forward.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, Jake.” You whisper.
You don’t let yourself listen to the way he calls your name as you escape into the outpost; you already know that if you see the look on his face, you’ll crumble.
The heavy door swings shut behind you, the hiss of the hydraulics drowning out the last of Jake’s pleas. You’re finally alone for the evening, but for a very long moment you can’t move at all. You just stay leaning against the heavy door as the oxygenation chamber begins to work, finally allowing you to tear your mask off and toss it to the floor.
You take deep, heavy breaths, before hiding your head in your hands. You can’t help but feel as though you’ve handled that rather poorly.
For the next several days, you don’t leave the outpost once. Ostensibly, you’re helping Norm with his research. In reality, you’re likely just getting underfoot and annoying all the other scientists that are actually trying to do work.
It’s cowardly and immature, but you just don’t think you can face Jake or Neytiri right now. You can’t stop thinking of the looks and whispers that the two of them had exchanged when you had talked about possibly being interested in Na’vi men and mating. You’re so damn embarrassed, and you feel like a total idiot.
And yet at the same time, you feel so prickly and irritated. After so many years of friendship, how ridiculous is it that they didn’t speak to you about this? Your irritation bleeds over into your mood as you sit around the base, and soon enough everyone else in the outpost starts to avoid you as best they can.
Three days may not seem like an extraordinarily long time to avoid your friends, but it’s the longest you’ve gone without seeing them in… well, possibly ever.
Jake knows you well enough to know that you need space to think things over, which probably accounts for the fact that he hasn’t yet shown up to bust your door down. But while Jake may be giving you space, no one seems to have given that memo to Lo’ak.
“Whatever dad did, I’m sure he’s sorry.” Lo’ak blurts on the afternoon of your third day of self-imposed exile.
The two of you are sprawled out on one of the couches in the meagre corner that Max has attempted to turn into a recreation area – the couch Lo’ak is laying across was originally designed for Avatar bodies, and he spends enough time in the outpost that he looks perfectly at home here with a CO2 respirator hanging around his neck for him to sip at the air.
You sigh, avoiding his eyes. You know you’re not meant to have favourites among the children, but you’ve always had a mushy little soft spot for Lo’ak. He’s always so hungry for recognition and validation, and yet he can be so damn sweet. It’s no surprise that he’s the one that’s skipping his duties in the clan just to hang out with you at the outpost because he’s worried about you.
“Your dad didn’t do anything, Lo’ak.” You murmur, though you’re still having a hard time looking at him.
Lo’ak’s brow puckers. “... Mom, then?”
“No!” You say quickly, before taking a deep breath and continuing in a calmer tone of voice. “No, it’s not– look, it’s just… sometimes, grown-ups just need some time apart to think, that’s all.”
Lo’ak is quiet for a moment. He’s staring down into his lap, his brow drawn together moodily as he fidgets with his thumbs. He’s obviously thinking hard, lost in his thoughts, though you couldn’t begin to guess what it is he’s thinking about.
Lo’ak is more like his mother than anyone gives him credit for; just like Neytiri, he does a poor job keeping his thoughts and feelings to himself for too long.
“Spider said that Norm told him about a human thing called divorce.” He bursts out, finally raising his head to look at you. For the first time, you see the glimmer of panic in his eyes. “Are you– you’re not doing that, right?”
You rear back, struggling to hide your shock from him. Oh god, now the guilt is starting to set in. In all your panic and embarrassment, you hadn’t really considered what the kids must have thought about all this.
Lo’ak’s ears are pressed flat against the side of his head and his tail is coiled tightly against his body, giving you an insight into how vulnerable he’s feeling right now.
“Oh, no, kiddo!” You blurt, sitting up on the couch and leaning over to place a hand on your shoulder. “It’s not… It’s not like that.”
Lo’ak’s eyes are suspiciously glassy, and he immediately shuffles over to hide his face in your shoulder. The hug is a little awkward; he’s not nearly as small as he used to be as a small child, but he’s still trying his best to curl his much larger body into your chest. It’s like cuddling a golden retriever that doesn’t realise how large it is.
“Mom and dad have been arguing since you left.” He mumbles into your shoulder. “Whatever they did to make you mad, they’re sorry about it.”
Your heart aches, and you close your eyes and sigh as you kiss his forehead. Damn, now you really feel like an asshole. You never expected this to impact Jake and Neytiri’s relationship at home, and to hear that they’re actually in conflict comes as a surprise to you. They’re usually a united front, so to hear that there’s cracks in that front because of you is somewhat jarring.
“... What are they arguing about?” You murmur, feeling a little guilty for prying.
Lo’ak shrugs, as though the way his parents think is utterly mystifying to his brain. “Mom thinks dad fucked up somehow, I dunno.”
He darts a quick look up at your face as though trying to check whether he’s going to get scolded for cursing, but you hardly notice. You’re too busy thinking. You can’t help but wonder exactly how Jake had recounted your little conversation to Neytiri, and you feel your cheeks burn at the thought of what she must have had to say about it. They probably both think you’re a total moron.
You sigh through your nose and pet Lo’ak’s braids absently. He seems happy to burrow close as you think, relaxing into your arms as though he’s not comically large for a fourteen year old.
Truthfully, you wonder if you’re overthinking this. Because if you’re being honest with yourself, the thought that Jake and Neytiri think of you romantically sends a thrill of excitement so pure running through you that it feels as though it’s going to knock you off your feet.
You’ve spent so long moping about being alone that you didn’t even realise that you have two big sexy Na’vi sitting there interested in you but thinking that you weren’t interested in sex? Fuck, how could you have misassessed the situation like that?
“Hey, um’ma?” Lo’ak mumbles, his voice all muffled by your shirt.
“Yeah?”
There’s a pause. Then Lo’ak says, “Ola’netu’s a loser.”
“Lo’ak!” You scold, swatting at his head.
“It’s true!” Lo’ak complains. Your light smack to his head is so inconsequential that he doesn’t even bother moving his head out of the way, choosing instead to shuffle even closer until he’s practically crushing you.
“It’s rude to call people losers.” You sigh.
Lo’ak just grumbles. “Not when they’re trying to steal one of your moms.”
“That’s not–” You start, before falling silent. Na’vi mating practices and culture still throws you for a loop sometimes, but to hear Lo’ak say that he considers you a mom leaves you feeling all warm and fuzzy inside. You had known he viewed you as some kind of role model figure based on how he used to follow along behind your ankles as a young child, but to hear him come out and say it is something entirely different.
“Aw.” You whisper, unable to help it as you wrap your arms around his shoulders and hug him tight. “You’re so sweet, aren’tcha?”
Despite the fact that Lo’ak was literally just burrowing his way into your side, he starts rolling his eyes and leaning away. “Um’ma, quit it!”
You’re still laughing when you hear the sound of a door opening somewhere behind you, and you don’t even bother looking around. It’s Lo’ak who looks over your shoulder instead, and his face goes slack in surprise as his mouth drops open.
“Mom!” Lo’ak says, pushing himself up onto his knees on the couch so he can stare wide-eyed behind you.
You whip around at that, and feel your heart actually skip a beat at the sight of Neytiri picking her way through the narrow walkway of the outpost. You’re certain that your own expression matches Lo’ak’s surprised bewilderment perfectly.
Neytiri has never visited the human outpost before; she mostly tolerates the presence of the humans living beyond the boundary of the Omaticaya village, and is understandably wary of most of them. The sight of her walking towards you as she fiddles with the respirator around her neck is surreal.
Your stomach trembles at the sight of her. You’re not sure you’re ready to have this conversation with her, but you already know there’s no escape. If there’s anyone that can match Jake in pure hard-headed stubbornness, it’s Neytiri.
“Lo’ak,” Neytiri murmurs as she approaches. “Go home. Your father wants you to go foraging with Kiri.”
Lo’ak groans loudly, and Neytiri shoots him a look so sharp that it practically cuts. He gets the message almost immediately, and obviously decides it’s in his best interest not to argue any further. He stands up off the couch and skulks off, though he glances over his shoulder at you before he rounds the corner.
“See you at dinner, um’ma?” He calls, his eyes gone soft and hopeful.
You hesitate, glancing nervously at Neytiri. “Uh… I’m not sure.” You say non-committedly, smiling weakly.
Lo’ak frowns, stopping dead-still as his ears pin back. “Um’ma, please.”
Ah fuck, you never could deny that kid anything. You sigh, reaching up to rub at the space between your eyes. “Right. Yeah, okay. See you later, Lo’ak.”
As soon as Lo’ak disappears around the corner, Neytiri steps towards you. Flustered, you stand up to meet her as she stops just short of the couch. She’s watching you closely, her honey-coloured eyes tracking over every inch of you.
You’re so thrown by the fact that she’s actually here, in front of you, in the human outpost, that you barely even know what to say to her.
“Um… hey.” You say stupidly.
Thankfully, Neytiri decides to ignore your weak little greeting.
“I wish to talk, tawtute.” Her voice is soft, as though she’s trying not to scare you away.
Right. Of course she does. Your eyes dart around the little rec area, all shifty. Towards the back of the open space of the outpost, you can see some of the scientists sending you curious looks. You can’t really blame them; while the Sully kids are regular visitors around here, the sight of Neytiri must be rather startling.
“We can talk in my room.” You mutter, stepping back and hurriedly leading the way towards privacy.
Neytiri follows along silently, though her attention is mostly taken up with looking around the building curiously. You usher her into your room quickly, your heart rate already picking up nervously.
It’s more than a little unnerving to watch Neytiri’s tall, willowy figure stepping into your cramped, windowless room. She looks so out of place amongst the clutter of your stuff, and yet she steps forward and sinks down to perch herself on the edge of your bed as though she belongs there.
You barely manage to stifle a squeak at the sight of her sitting right where Jake had sat only a few nights earlier, right before he had fingered you within an inch of your life. She’s watching you as though she knows what you’re thinking, and you feel your face grow warm under her regard.
“Jake said that you needed space,” She murmurs, breaking the expectant silence that had settled over the two of you. “And I trust him with many things. But he has already made a mess of this, hasn’t he?”
You swallow thickly, fidgeting with your fingers. You can’t help but feel guilty; it was you that had made a mess of this by hiding yourself away like this and refusing to face them after your obvious misunderstanding.
“I’m sorry.” You say stiffly. “I didn’t mean to… well. I just needed time to think.”
Neytiri hums, though she doesn’t appear too convinced. “Jake tells me that you did not realise how we valued you as a mate.”
She says it as though she thinks it’s ridiculous, which certainly doesn’t help things. She leans forward, resting her elbows on her knees as she watches you. Her delicate little chest covering sways forward, and it takes everything in you not to stare at her tits.
“Why would you wish to mate with someone you cannot connect with?” You ask, your voice quiet.
It’s probably not fair to throw Neytiri’s own words back at her from the conversation you had had about Ola’netu on the first night of mating season, but you get a twisted sense of satisfaction from the way her expression cracks into surprise. She looks taken aback, her ears flattening.
“That was not what I meant.” She protests, her brow creasing into a frown.
“You were asking me to find “release” with the other humans!” You burst out. It might not be fair to get frustrated at her like this, but all of these thoughts have been brewing since your little argument with Jake and you finally get the chance to express them.
Neytiri’s tail lashes, revealing her own restlessness.
“You never approached us for…” She trails off, then takes a breath. “I assumed that you were seeking pleasure from your kind. It is like I said; sex is a way for bonding in mated pairs as well as outside of them.”
You blink at her, bewildered. You had thought that she was just making a sweeping statement about Na’vi sexuality. It hadn’t occurred to you that she had been telling you this because she was including you in the mated subsection of the population.
“Jake thought that you were not interested in sexual intimacy at all, because you never mentioned anything to him.” Neytiri says. “But I had thought that you just preferred intimacy with your own kind. And that would be fine, tawtute. There is much diversity among Na’vi mating bonds, and there is almost no mating bonds between Na’vi and Sky People. We are learning as we go.”
She’s doing the same thing that Jake had done; keeping her voice carefully low as though trying not to upset you. You’re a little torn; you can’t decide whether it’s sweet or aggravating that they treat you like you’re something delicate that needs to be protected. You decide to settle on aggravated, even as she keeps talking.
“There are other forms of intimacy; sitting in laps, grooming, cooking for each other, sleeping in shared spaces, spending quality time together. We do all of this, syulang.”
“If you aren’t interested in having sex with me, just say that.” You say, crossing your arms defensively over your chest. You know that you sound like a little brat right now, but you can’t help it. “You don’t have to come up with all these different excuses.”
Neytiri’s eyes widen, her hairless brows raising.
“We did not think we were–” Neytiri struggles for a moment to find the right word. “Compatible. Sexually. We are too big, tawtute, we could have hurt you.”
“But you never even tried.” You say stubbornly, a frown creeping onto your face. “Jake wasn’t too big when he fingered me the other night.”
You might be stretching the truth a little there, because Jake has fat-ass fingers that had stretched you until you had been an actual sobbing mess, but you’re trying to make a point here.
Neytiri reaches up and presses her fingers against her mouth, and it takes you a moment to realise that she’s trying hard not to laugh.
“If you wanted to be touched, all you had to do was ask.” She murmurs, before reaching her other hand out towards you.
You hesitate for a moment. You’re not sure if you’re ready to let go of your annoyance so easily, but you step towards Neytiri all the same. Her tail is twitching, a clear sign of her anticipation. As soon as you get within arm’s reach, she takes you by the arms and pulls you right up into her lap.
You squeak, flustered at the sudden movement. It’s not like it’s strange for you to be hauled into a Na’vi’s lap, but it’s never been Neytiri’s lap before. You grab onto her shoulders without thinking to try and steady yourself, and out of the corner of your eye you see a pleased smile playing about her lips.
“What did you think of Jake?” She asks, her voice low. Her long, slender hands wrap around your hips to keep you in place across her thighs.
“Um…” Your brain has stalled a bit, completely distracted by the way your own thighs are spread wide so that you’re straddling her hips.
Neytiri’s tiny little smile is knowing, as if she knows that your cunt is growing wet and hot just from the feeling of your thighs being stretched wide over hers. Even more distracting is the way her long fingers are tracing over the exposed skin of your thighs where your dress has ridden up over your hips.
“You wanted to experience Na’vi bodies, hm?” She murmurs, her fingers pushing higher as she traces little circles over your hips. “What did you think of Jake’s?”
“It was– he was… great.” You sound like an absolute idiot, and you feel like one as well. It’s like your brain is actually grinding to a halt, as though every ounce of your awareness is narrowing down to the points of contact between you and Neytiri.
Neytiri hums, her eyes dropping down over your own body and lingering. She’s clearly curious about your cotton dress – you almost exclusively wear your Omaticayan style beaded top and loincloth when you’re in the village, and Neytiri hasn’t actually seen you wearing your own human clothes in years. She tugs at the back of it with a tiny frown.
“Good.” She murmurs, her fingers tangling in the soft fabric of your dress. “But just as you were unfamiliar with Na’vi bodies, I have never experienced the body of a Sky Person.”
You take a sharp breath. You’ve clearly been painfully oblivious of any signals that Jake and Neytiri may have been sending you over the years, and you’re not prepared to miss out on anything else just because you’re not willing to take a risk.
“D’you want to?” You ask in a whisper. It comes out more breathless that you had intended, your excitement causing your lungs to squeeze tight.
Neytiri’s smile widens, the delicate skin around her eyes creasing right before she leans in and presses a full-mouthed kiss to your mouth.
It’s messier and more heated than you had expected from her, and you moan without meaning to when her sharp canines tug at your lower lip. Neytiri kisses like she's got something to prove — her mouth is firm and unyielding against yours, and her teeth nip lightly at your lips in a way that sends a shiver rippling down your spine.
As you gasp into her mouth, her hands grip at your waist and haul you closer to her until your chests are pressed tight together, your thighs spread wide around her hips as she pulls you tight to her.
You whimper against her, unable to help yourself, and then to your immense disappointment she pulls back. Her mouth is wet and swollen, but she looks so pretty when she grins at you. When she tugs at your dress again, you pick up on her unspoken request and immediately begin tugging your dress over your head.
You’re left in just your bra and panties, but you’re not given a moment to feel self-conscious. Neytiri’s big golden eyes are taking you in hungrily, but despite that hunger there’s also a gleam of curiosity in her eyes. When you unclasp your bra and let it fall to the side, her eyes land on your breasts as though you’ve just unwrapped a gift for her.
She reaches for your tits immediately, and her big hands practically swallow them whole. You’re reminded of the way she had brushed her hands against your tits when she had fixed your top in a way that was almost casual, but in hindsight was unmistakably erotic.
“Ah,” Neytiri murmurs, sounding almost surprised as her hands close around your tits. “They are softer than I expected.”
“Are they?” You breathe a little dazedly.
She hums, and you bite back another squeak when she reaches up and pulls off her pretty chest covering. You’ve seen Neytiri’s breasts before, of course; the Na’vi are not modest about their bodies, and those beaded tops the women wear are mostly just for accessory.
But seeing is different to touching, and your breath catches when she takes your wrist and guides your hand to one of her tits.
Neytiri’s breasts are small, in proportion to the rest of her tall svelte body, but they’re firmer than you had expected. It shouldn’t be too much of a surprise, you suppose – the muscle structure of the Na’vi is insane, and there’s almost zero softness to them. Neytiri’s breasts are probably the most pliable part of her whole body, but even still the flesh doesn’t yield as much as you might have expected. You can certainly understand why Neytiri is so fascinated by the cushiony softness of your own chest.
Neytiri lets out a small, pleased sound when your thumb rolls over her nipple, and she lifts her CO2 respirator to take a quick sip of air before dropping it and clasping your jaw with one hand. She pulls you into another kiss, and you sigh happily as her tongue slides against yours. The size difference means that the kiss is a little awkward, but her enthusiasm makes up for that.
It feels like the world is spinning, and you let out a soft noise of surprise when her teeth sink into your lower lip. It’s not hard enough to hurt, but the sensation has you shivering in her lap. You almost whine when she breaks away from you, but she just starts to trail kisses down your neck and across your chest.
“Oh, fuck.” You breathe, your whole body jolting when she bites at the curve of your breast. It stings, and you look down at yourself to find a reddened bite mark at the top of your tit, right where it starts to swell.
“So soft and pretty, syulang.” Neytiri mumbles, sucking a bruise on the top of your other tit.
She’s the oddest mix of rough and gentle with you; she’s obviously very conscious of how much bigger and stronger she is, because she’s holding you like you’re made of glass. But even as she strokes her thumbs over your hipbones, her hot, hungry mouth nips and kisses at your sensitive skin and leaves purpling bruises behind.
When her mouth actually closes around your nipple, you let out an absolutely mortifying sound of confusion mixed with arousal. She can fit so much of your breast in her mouth that when she actually suckles on it, your eyes practically roll back at the stimulation.
“God,” You whimper, your hips twitching against her lap. The lace of your panties drags over the soft buttery fabric of her loincloth, and the friction against your clit leaves you shivery. “Neytiri, will you please– can you–?”
Neytiri hums, reluctantly releasing your tit from the wet heat of her mouth. You shiver as the cool air of the room hits the spit-slick skin of your breasts, but Neytiri quickly places her hand over the spot she had been sucking, warming your skin as she squeezes lightly.
“So eager, tawtute.” She coos, smiling at you like she thinks that you’re just adorable. She reaches her much larger hand into your panties, her long slender fingers sliding through the slick folds of your pussy with ease.
You groan like you’ve just been punched, and drop your head down against her shoulder. Her thumb rolls over your clit and your hips jump, grinding in her lap. She chuckles at your reaction, and watches your face closely as she presses one of her fingers inside of you. While a single one of her fingers is much larger than yours, it’s still smaller than Jake’s and you find yourself wanting more.
“Another one.” You beg, already humping your hips into her hand.
Neytiri laughs softly, but does as you ask all the same. The second finger is a definite stretch, but you’re so aroused already that it only stings for a moment before your body adjusts, squeezing tight around her.
“Pretty, pretty girl.” She whispers, ducking her face back down to your chest even as she fingers you.
Oh god, she’s bitey. The wet heat of her mouth leaves trails of stinging bruises across your tender chest and shoulders, which she then soothes over with her large, catlike tongue. There’s going to be no covering the marks she’s leaving behind, but you can’t bring yourself to care.
You’d likely let her do anything to you right now; you feel overheated and shivery, and you can’t stop your chest from heaving as you rut your hips into her fingers, moaning as the heel of her hand grinds into your clit. Her hand is much too big to fit properly in your panties, but you’re far past the point of caring if she stretches the fabric out.
The only thing that could actually bring you out of the sweaty, horny haze you’ve found yourself in is the sound of your bedroom door opening, and you freeze in Neytiri’s lap with your breathing embarrassingly loud in the silence.
For a wildly horrifying moment, you think that Lo’ak had returned for something, and you think about just dropping dead on the spot.
But then you look reluctantly over your shoulder, and you see Jake’s big body standing hunched in your doorway, and you want to drop dead for an entirely different reason.
Jake is looking between you and Neytiri with wide golden eyes, his eyebrows raised so high that his whole forehead is creased. His stare lingers on your bare chest, then on Neytiri’s, and then drops down to where Neytiri’s hand is stuffed down the front of your panties.
“Oh shit.” Jake breathes once he manages to get over his surprise. His expression brightens and he hastily shuts the door behind himself, shuffling quickly over to your bed to join you and Neytiri.
The little room you had claimed as a bedroom is far from large, but it feels even smaller now that you have both Jake and Neytiri’s nine-feet-tall big ass bodies joining you on your miserable, rickety little bed.
“I guess that your little chat went well, huh?” Jake murmurs, a shit-eating grin on his face as he settles next to Neytiri, leaning in close so that his hungry eyes can rove over your almost naked body.
Neytiri hums, though she hardly even looks up at her husband. She’s too busy nuzzling little kisses into your throat, pulling helpless little gasps out of your mouth every time her lips close over your sensitive skin. Her hand doesn’t stop moving either, and you feel like you’re going weak in her lap every time the thick pad of her thumb rolls over the little bead of your clit.
“You handled things badly, ma Jake. I told you I would sort it.” She says, and you can feel her lips curving into a smile against your throat.
Jake just snickers, and you can feel the warm weight of his palm land on your back. He strokes over the bare length of your spine, and then you feel his fingers tug playfully at the back of your panties. He purposefully tugs the lace fabric so that it’s wedged uncomfortably between your asscheeks, and you let out a soft yowl of complaint before half-turning and slapping at his hands.
“Ah fuck, you’re wearing your sexy panties, huh?” Jake’s laugh is a little hoarse as he tugs at your underwear.
Neytiri hisses at him in aggravation when his messing about leads to her hand being forced out of your panties, but Jake just grins. The two of them are so fucking big, they’re practically looming over you right now. Even perched in Neytiri’s lap, you feel tiny in between them.
“The fabric means something?” Neytiri asks, her attention now caught on your red lacy panties.
“Oh yeah.” Jake mutters, his chest pressing up against your bare back, which consequently pushes your breasts against Neytiri’s. “Why don’t you tell her what your panties mean, honey?”
“Jake.” You complain, though it comes out more whiny than you had intended.
He just ignores you, his chest rumbling quietly in amusement against your back as he leans down to murmur in your ear. “Means she was hoping someone’d take her clothes off to get a peek at her, isn’t that right?”
You don’t get the chance to respond, because Jake wraps an arm around your middle and plucks you right out of Neytiri’s lap. You end up sprawled in his lap with your thighs spread wide over his, your back plastered against his chest. One of his hands rests against your belly to keep you pinned against him, keeping you firmly in place against him.
You half expect Neytiri to be irritated over being interrupted, but if anything she’s brightened even further. There’s a gleam in her eyes as she pushes herself off the bed, landing on her knees in between Jake’s spread thighs.
You feel ridiculously exposed like this; it’s almost as if Jake has maneuvered you into this position with the express purpose of showing your body off. Your thighs bracket his, and when he spreads his legs yours are forced wider too, giving Neytiri an eyeful of your scarlet red panties and the absolutely humiliating wet spot that’s currently soaking through the crotch.
Your back is arched too thanks to the way that he’s holding you tight against him, which forces your tits out and gives him a good eyeful of the nips and bruises that Neytiri’s greedy mouth had left behind.
“Damn, you did a number on her, didn’t’ya?” Jake’s big fingers trace over the tender marks across your breasts, and you swear it feels like the contact sends a little zap of electricity racing through you.
Neytiri just giggles, her cheeks dimpling as she smiles up at you and Jake from between your spread thighs. The close proximity of her face to your pussy almost takes your breath away, and your breath catches in your chest when she rubs her big thumb over the wet patch on the fabric of your panties.
Some part of you wonders if you should try to slow things down, to talk things out, but then Neytiri hooks her long fingers in the band of your panties and tugs them clumsily down your thighs and all sensible thought completely abandons you.
You let out a soft, wanting sound when Jake’s fingers run through the slickness of your pussy, spreading you wide so that Neytiri can get a proper look at you. She even leans closer, and the heat of her breath against your oversensitive, damp skin has you twitching.
“What do you think, baby?” Jake asks Neytiri, leaning over your head and looking down at her with a grin. His fingers roll a teasing circle over your clit, and you groan as your head falls backwards to rest against his chest.
“She is so small.” Neytiri coos, her own big fingers joining Jake’s in stroking over you.
All you can do is lay there in Jake’s lap, with your eyes wide and your chest heaving as their big fingers press into you, stretch you wide, and rub at your clit. It’s like they’re trying to outdo each other, trying to unravel you with their fingers alone. Their hands are so big that the combination of their touches feels overwhelming, as though the heat of their fingers is stealing the breath right out of your lungs.
God, you love how they make you feel so small and delicate. Getting manhandled and pinned down during sex is exciting normally anyway, but with two Na’vi twice your size that excitement turns into an outright thrill.
Neytiri kisses the inside of your thigh. It’s such a sweet little motion, her plush lips dragging gently over the thin sensitive skin of your inner thighs. It’s not much of a surprise when her lips add a little suction, a little nip of her canines, just so she can suck another little lovebite at the juncture of your hips and thighs.
“So pretty, syulang.” She whispers, but her voice is muffled as she trails kisses tantalisingly close to where you want her mouth.
“Neytiri,” You whimper. You try to squirm, but Jake keeps you still. “Please-!”
Jake chuckles, his chest rumbling pleasantly against your back. “C’mon, Neytiri, baby, help me get her ready.”
“She’s so wet already.” Neytiri murmurs, her cheeks dimpling so prettily as she leans in and finally lays her mouth on you.
The wet heat of her mouth has your head tilting back onto Jake’s shoulder with a moan, earning a quiet laugh from Jake as he presses a kiss to your shoulder. His big hands keep your thighs spread, and you end up with your legs spread wide and thrown over Neytiri’s shoulders as she latches onto your clit and sucks.
“Fuck!” You yell, your hips jerking. But Jake keeps your hips pinned down so that your ass is pressing against the hardened bulge in his loincloth, his arms wrapped around your belly as he watches Neytiri eat you out from over your shoulder.
“She tastes good, doesn’t she, baby?” Jake croons to her, snickering when Neytiri moans out a garbled response, all muffled into your cunt.
Even from the corner of your eye, you can see the excited smile that’s tugging at Jake’s lips as he hooks his chin over your shoulder to get a better look at Neytiri hungrily licking you out. Judging by the stiffening of his cock pressed against your ass, he is more than enjoying the view.
Na’vi tongues are so oddly textured, like a cat-tongue almost, and Neytiri’s licks against you are rougher than they would be with a human partner. It also means that when her wide, rough tongue rasps over your clit, sparks practically burst behind your eyes as you cry out.
“That’s it, honey. Just relax.” Jake whispers to you, his wide palm cupping your tits and squeezing a little.
Neytiri’s tongue slides down the lips of your pussy until she reaches your slit, and then her tongue is wiggling inside of you and you’re turning your head to the side and whining into the pretty blue skin of Jake’s neck. He just hums, obviously enjoying the sight of his wife tongue-fucking you as you’re held spread open in his lap.
Jake’s cock is pressing into the dip at the small of your back, scalding hot and hard as a goddamn rock, and you alternate between rocking against the length of his hard dick and back into Neytiri’s greedy mouth. She mouths along your pussy, her teeth grazing and scratching at the sensitive skin just right.
You let out an overwhelmed sort of sob, the air catching in your chest as you heave for breath, and you can feel Neytiri smile against the soft flesh of your pussy. Neytiri’s tongue traces your folds, pulling them into his mouth and suckling. You arch your back and moan into Jake’s neck, though your own little sounds of pleasure are mostly drowned out by the soft, breathy moans she keeps making into your pussy everytime she licks into you.
The two of them are caging you in with their big bodies, holding you so gently even as they push you close to the edge. The sweet, hot tension in your lower belly coils tighter and tighter until you’re a trembling wreck, ready to shatter apart.
“Oh… oh god.” You whimper, squeezing your eyes shut tight as your head rests back against Jake’s chest. He just chuckles, and smooths some of your sweaty hair back off your forehead.
“Gonna come, honey?” He whispers, his voice all coy and teasing in your ear. “Oh shit, you crying?”
You are tearing up, just a little bit, from all the sheer stimulation of Neytiri’s mouth on your pussy and Jake’s enormous hands groping at your tits. You still manage to smack Jake’s bicep for that comment though, a weak little slap to his hard muscle.
“Shit, I’m… I’m gonna–” You start to say, your eyelids fluttering shut in anticipation as that beautiful, toe-curling tension starts to coil sweetly in your lower belly.
But right as you’re about to tip over that precipice into bliss, Neytiri pulls away and you nearly start crying for real.
“No! Wait, don’t stop–” You whine, your hips humping into the air in an attempt to follow after Neytiri’s mouth.
“Shhh, mawey, syulang. Calm.” Neytiri purrs, another little kiss placed on your soft inner thigh. “So perfect, yawntu.”
The pupils of her eyes are wider than you’ve ever seen them, and she keeps leaning her cheek against the plush flesh of your thigh. She looks drunk almost, even as she keeps kissing all along your thighs and up over your tummy, before returning to your cunt just to give you slow, kittenish licks right over the bead of your clit.
Your entire body jerks with every kiss. Her tongue is hot and wet as she licks at you, and it feels like liquid fire erupts through your nerves. Your hips twitch and chase after her touch, but Jake keeps you in place with his firm grasp on your thighs.
You’re desperate, frantic for any kind of release. This feels as though it’s been building for years, as though your body has just been waiting for them to touch you like this. God, it feels good. They’re so much bigger than you that any wrong move could end up with them actually crushing you between them, and yet they’re so sweet and careful. You feel as safe with them as ever.
As if he senses your impatience, Jake kisses the spot just under your ear. “You want more, sweetheart?”
“Yes!” You hiss, already squirming in his lap. Your ass rubs against his dick and he groans, his arms tightening around your waist to pull you back onto him so that he can grind against you.
“What d’you think, huh?” Jake’s voice is rough and gravelly as he speaks to Neytiri, his arousal obvious. “Is our little lady ready for it?”
“She is so small, ma Jake. It will be a tight fit.” Neytiri murmurs, her voice all muffled as her fingers dip back inside you. You roll your hips against her fingers, whimpering a little at the mouth-watering stretch as she pushes a third long finger inside.
“She’ll take it,” Jake murmurs, his flat nose pressing into your temple. “Won’t you, beautiful?”
One Na’vi finger is probably the equivalent of two of yours, so the stretch is enough to send your head spinning. You barely even comprehend what he’s saying to you, but you nod blindly anyway, gasping wetly as Neytiri fingers you.
“Uh huh, yeah, please.” You say stupidly, wiggling on his lap.
Jake lifts you a little higher, holding you close to his chest as Neytiri pulls his loincloth off. And fuck, you had almost forgotten how big his dick was. He’s so hard, the delicate little glowing white freckles along the length of it twinkling like little stars, just like the ones splashed across Neytiri’s tits.
“Hush, honey, we’re gonna look after you.” Jake soothes you, kissing your temple. “Gonna be so good to you. Fuck, been waiting so long for this.”
Jake grunts a quiet moan when Neytiri’s hand closes around his cock, and he muffles his appreciative noises in the curve of your shoulder. Neytiri presses a playful kiss to the tip of his dick, earning another groan from Jake, before she looks up at you again.
“You are okay, syulang?” She whispers, setting one heavy hand on your waist and stroking her long thumb over your stomach.
You’ve never been so eager for anything in your life. It’s like your body remembers the feeling of Jake’s fingers and the weight of his cock on your tongue, because it feels like every nerve is aflame as you wait for him to press into you and stretch you wide. You’ve been thinking about this since that night, lying alone in your quarters and stuffing yourself full with your fingers trying to imagine it was his dick. No matter what though, it never feels like enough.
You nod, and lean forward in Jake’s lap to try and kiss Neytiri again. You’re a little shy about it, still a little thrilled that you’re allowed to do this, and she ends up sitting up on her knees and placing her hand on the back of your head to pull you into a sweet, lingering kiss.
As she kisses you, the thick head of Jake’s dick drags through your folds and you shiver in anticipation. Even just the tip of it feels big when he’s grinding it against your clit, and you wrap your arms around Neytiri’s shoulders for stability as Jake positions himself at your entrance.
“Fuck,” The groan is punched out of you when you feel the insistent pressure of Jake’s cock pressing into you. “Jake… Your dick is too big, it won’t fit–”
“You think I gotta big dick, sweetheart?” Jake laughs, cause he’s an asshole like that. His teeth flash in a grin.
“You’re such a dickhead.” You complain, but you find yourself laughing breathlessly anyway.
His intention was to make you relax a little, and it works. Jake and Neytiri’s big fingers have been stretching you out, and you’re so horny and eager right now that it’s now or never.
Jake just snickers, and reaches over to your bedside locker. He opens it up and reaches inside, and pulls out the tiny plastic bottle of lube you have hidden away in there. You can't even think about how he knows it’s there because Neytiri keeps kissing you stupid, and you don’t have any brain power to spare.
Neytiri trails kisses down your neck and chest, pausing at your breasts again. She takes a hasty, shaky breath from the CO2 respirator around her neck, before dropping it and leaning forward to wrap her lips around your nipple again while massaging your other breast with her free hand. Her gentle but eager touches feel genuinely addictive, like she’s leaving trails of pure heat along your oversensitive skin with every brush of her lips.
Jake’s cock, slick with lube, presses up into your cunt, and you let out a garbled whimper at the feeling of intense dull pressure. “Oh, fuck.”
You jolt when Neytiri lets your tit go with a soft, wet little pop. She coos softly at you, cupping your cheek with her hand and brushing her thumb over your cheekbone. Her eyes are so big and golden and pretty, and she’s looking up at you with an awed sort of smile, as though she can hardly believe she’s seeing you like this right now.
Jake begins to press into you, stretching you wide and slipping inside inch by inch.
You gasp desperately as you’re speared open inexorably slowly, tears pricking your eyes as your mouth drops open. Your hips twitch, unsure whether to press back into him to get him deeper inside of you faster or to jerk away from the intense stretch, but his hands are clamped tight around your hips to restrict your movement.
“Fuck, so tight.” Jake grunts, pausing. “Strangling my cock. Shhh… your pussy was made for this, honey. You’ll stretch.””
The noise you make barely sounds human, an incomprehensible mix between a moan and a squeal as Neytiri steadies you, her big hands settling on your waist. She’s staring between your legs, obviously transfixed by the sight of Jake rocking his cock into you in steady increments. Though you can’t see yourself, you can only imagine that it must be quite the sight.
“Just– put it in all at once!” You burst out, gasping as you squeeze your eyes shut. You feel as though you’re about to get totally overwhelmed, the breath driven right out of you as the shocking girth of him stretches you wide.
“Easy, baby girl.” He rumbles into your ear, breath coming in short puffs. He bites at the junction between your neck and shoulder as he slides another inch deeper inside of you. “You’re doing so good.”
You try to calm yourself, taking your deep breaths, but for a heartbeat or two you can’t breathe at all, hovering on a knife's edge of pain and pleasure as your body could only yield – it doesn’t even feel like there’s room in you even to inhale –
“Be gentle, Jake.” Neytiri murmurs, her thumb landing on your swollen clit and rubbing tight circles against it to soothe you.
“I know, I know, I got her.” Jake grunts.
Each ridge on his cock rubs against your inner walls, the slick, throbbing friction never flagging. His rough hands wander erratically, raking up your rib cage, over one breast and down again, grasping as if a handful of you is not enough as he moves his hips in slow humps to get his cock as deep in you as he can manage.
“Fuck!” You moan throatily, dropping your head to hang low as you rock your hips experimentally back on his dick. “Jake, you gotta… gotta move.”
It doesn’t all fit inside of you, but Jake doesn’t seem to mind – he’s grunting out quiet curses, his voice rough and deep as his cock rocks into the tightness of your cunt. The stretch is achy, but the weight and girth of his cock rubs against every goddamn nerve you have. Even though it feels as though he’s splitting you in two, you still find your hips rocking insistently against him, mewling at the sensation.
“Oh honey, you been practicing?” Jake grunts, his sharp canines dragging along the side of your throat. “Goddamn, look at you. Sucking me right into you, aren’tcha? Look, baby, you seeing this?”
“I see.” Neytiri hums, still playing with your clit. She shoots you another smile, before leaning in and kissing at your tits again. “So soft, syulang. So lovely. Doing so well, yawne.”
“Fuck,” Jake groans as he watches his wife touch your tits and marvel at how soft they are. “That’s hot.”
“Go faster.” You whine, tilting your head back to rest against Jake’s shoulder. “Fuck me properly, I can take it, I promise–”
Jake chokes out a laugh, and pulls your back tight against his stomach as his dick grinds deep inside of you, stealing your breath and promptly shutting you up. The moan that’s torn from you is absolutely filthy, your cunt fluttering around him as you fight to take him in, every nerve firing as Neytiri suckles at your breasts.
“Shhh, just take what I give you, gorgeous. Feels like you’re gonna squeeze my cock off. So fucking tight, mama, goddamn–”
You try to lift yourself up, determined to ride him, to take some kind of control over the pace, but Jake holds your hips tight to keep you exactly where he wants you.
It’s so frustrating, because you’re so desperate for more. You know you can take it, you’ve been fucking your fingers just imagining this for days now, gradually stretching yourself out, and Neytiri has already ensured that you’re good and ready for this. You feel like you’re going to lose your mind if Jake doesn’t just fuck you properly already.
Neytiri’s tongue rolls around your nipple, pulling a soft whine out of your throat, before she releases your titty and kisses her way up your neck, pausing by your ear.
“He can be mean, can’t he, pretty girl?” Neytiri whispers in your ear, her voice all teasing and playful. “You musn’t let him tease you. Take what you want. Do you want me to show you how?”
You nod, your mouth dropped open as you pant, your stomach fluttering in excitement.
Neytiri gives you a sharp, hungry smile, before pushing herself to her feet once more. You crane your head back to watch her, your breathing picking up. You must have missed her taking off her loincloth, but now she’s entirely naked in front of you. Your eyes trace over her small but firm breasts, her toned belly, the impressive musculature of her legs, the pretty curve of her pussy. The beautiful bioluminescent freckles all over her jewel-blue body twinkle in the dim artificial light of your quarters, and your mouth goes dry as you’re seized with the desire to trace them with your tongue.
But she’s already climbing onto your rickety bed, and shoving roughly at Jake’s chest. He lets out a low, wanting sound, and lets her push him flat. Now that he’s laying flat on your bed, Neytiri coaxes you to turn – you have to bite back your laughter as you spin around on Jake’s dick so that you’re facing him, and you can see the way he’s clearly fighting his own snickers too.
But Jake never gets to make a joke about the way you just spun around on his dick like a top, because Neytiri swings her leg over his head and straddles his face as though it’s nothing, her body facing you as she simply sits down.
“Ah,” She moans, her eyelids fluttering as she grinds herself against Jake’s mouth. “He talks so much, doesn’t he, syulang?”
You wheeze a laugh, hardly able to believe this is happening. Jake does talk a lot, but he seems very happy to be forced into silence like this judging by the way his cock is twitching inside you. His groans are muffled but no less pleased, one hand coming up to wrap around Neytiri’s thigh and encourage her to rock into his mouth.
Neytiri lets out a soft pleasured sound, before raising her eyes back to you. Her smile is lazy, her eyes half-closed as she relishes the feeling of Jake’s mouth against her pussy. She reaches out and takes one of your hands, intertwining your fingers before she leans forward and kisses you so sweetly.
“Go ahead and move how you want to, tawtute.” She whispers, her tongue gliding over your lower lip.
You mewl a little, but do as she says. You place a hand firmly on Jake’s belly for balance, before lifting yourself on shaky knees and dropping back down again. You groan at the feeling, and in the same moment Jake’s hips rock up into you and his belly visibly tightens. His obvious pleasure buoys your confidence, and you do it again.
Your thighs burn – Jake’s cock is long, and you have to lift yourself higher than you’re used to in order to ride him properly. But it’s a challenge you’re willing to take because even though the stretch of him burns, it feels delicious. You feel drunk on it, your mouth falling open as tears over overstimulation begin to leak from the corners of your eyes.
Neytiri watches you through her half-lidded golden eyes, a lazy smile pulling at her lips as her tails sways in the air behind her. One of her hands is squeezing absently at her tits, the other holding your hand tight as the two of you rock against Jake.
"Hah," You gasp out as you involuntarily squeeze around the girth of his cock. “Ah… oh god, I’m…”
“How does it feel, syulang?” Neytiri breathes, watching the way your hips undulate over Jake’s stupidly big cock, trying to get it to hit just right.
“Feels– shit, so big, but so good–” You sob, overwhelmed yet so needy. Your legs are tiring already, thighs burning as you grind against him. “Want him to move–”
Neytiri hums, before reaching out and smacking at Jake’s hip. He groans into her cunt, the slick sounds of his mouth against her enough to heat your cheeks up, but he gets the message loud and clear because his hips jolt into action.
Each thrust shakes your bed, the springs of your mattress coming to life as Jake’s hips thrust up, fucking you from below. Your pussy is drenched, aiding the lube he had soaked his cock as he glides in and out of you effortlessly, your body opening up for him as though you had been born for this.
His cock reaches something within you that has a sob ripping from your throat, your head tossing back as you wail towards the ceiling.
"Oh my god," You cry out, his cock spearing into you and hitting that spot with precision over and over again, "Fuuuck."
“Is that how you like it, yawntu?” Neytiri breathes. She’s getting close herself; you can tell by the jagged rhythm of her hips as she humps against Jake’s face, and the wide blackness of her pupils.
“Uh huh, yes!” You whine, your vision blurring. It feels like your body is drawing tense as a bowstring, your toes curling so hard it almost hurts.
You’re not sure if Jake can actually hear you or not, considering Neytiri’s thighs are closed tight around his ears, but the hand that isn’t holding onto her leg travels down to your hip and holds you tight. His thumb strokes over the swell of your ass even as he encourages you to rock against him. All you can do is grind against him every time his hips piston up, the thick swell of his cock settling so deep inside of you it feels like it’s in your stomach.
Your pussy is already fluttering, your belly tightening as your rising orgasm begins to prickle at the edges of your body. Fuck, you already feel as though it’s about to shake you apart at the seams, like you’ll never feel whole again without the delicious stretch of Jake’s cock.
To your surprise, it’s Neytiri that comes first. She cries out, her big hand encompassing yours as her eyes roll, her head dropping forward to nestle into your neck as her body shakes apart.
Beneath her, Jake’s chest rumbles with a low purr of arousal as she comes all over his face – but he’s a man devoted to his mission, because he somehow manages to keep fucking into you all while he licks Neytiri through her own orgasm.
You’re actually quaking at this point, grinding yourself desperately on top of Jake as his hips thrust up into, the friction so damn good even though you can tell that he’s trying so hard to be careful with you. This particular position isn’t super conducive to your own pleasure, but being fucked like this while having such strong visual stimulation is nice – you can hardly tear your eyes away from Neytiri as her body goes lax, her eyelashes fluttering wildly as she humps lazily against Jake’s face to ride the last shivery shocks of her orgasm out.
God, it feels as though you’re never going to get over this. You feel as though your nerves are right on the edge of frying, your lungs and muscles burning and your skin slick with sweat as you rock and writhe wildly, taking a cue from Neytiri and seeking your own satisfaction. You can’t imagine ever feeling better than this; it feels as though you’re blooming under all of the attention that’s being lavished upon you.
Once Neytiri stops shaking, she takes a moment to just gasp for breath even as her hips roll slowly over Jake’s tongue. Slowly, she blinks back to herself, then her eyes fall back upon you. A slow, lazy smile spreads across her face, and then she’s reaching out to you all over again, her fingers landing on your clit to rub over it in a teasing circle.
Her long fingers barely brush the fraught nerves before ecstasy settles between each of your vertebrae. Your pussy flares, gripping onto the throbbing thickness of Jake’s cock. Shaking violently, your thighs squeeze Jake’s slim waist as everything tightens, pulses, spasms.
Overwhelmed, whimpering sort of wails pour from your lips in a deluge, your jaw is slack, the waves of ecstasy rendering you utterly helpless to the instinctual rutting motions of your hips. You're rocking up against him while simultaneously attempting to escape the sensation, choking out gasping moans as you fall apart.
You must tighten up like a vice when you come, because Jake yells out, his hips bucking. His shout is muffled by Neytiri’s pussy as you squeeze down on his dick, trembling.
The way your cunt constricts around him proves too much for Jake’s poor cock. You can feel the hot, thick spurts of cum as as he empties himself inside of you, his soft tummy twitching and trembling as his hips flex. You're exhausted, powerless to do anything other than bathe in the sensation of your cunt convulsing around Jake’s twitching cock as he shakes under you, moaning into Neytiri’s cunt as she grinds lazily on his tongue.
When your thighs finally stop trembling, your over-fatigued body starts to go limp. It feels as though your muscles have been liquefied, and you start to slump over a little. Neytiri seems to take sympathy on Jake, because she finally lifts herself off of Jake’s face in order to cup your face, kissing your cheeks and forehead.
Below you, Jake just groans, pausing to give himself a moment to breathe. He only takes a moment though before he starts slowly rocking his hips again, as though he’s just trying to fuck his cum deeper into you. It was too much, leaking out of your hole and over his cock, soaking into the sheets below.
“Oh my god.” You pant, your lungs overworked as you try to catch your breath. “Oh, holy fuck.”
Jake laughs, wheezy with his own disbelief. However wrecked you feel, Jake looks absolutely destroyed. His chest and stomach are glossy with sweat, his hips drenched in lube and your own release. His dreads are in disarray, his eyes hazy and a little dazed as his chest heaves. His mouth and nose are shiny slick too from both his own saliva and from Neytiri coming all over his face.
Despite his dishevelment, he looks impossibly pleased with himself as he fumbles for his respirator, taking clumsy breaths even as he smiles dopily to himself, his eyes glassy and unfocused.
Neytiri helps lift you off Jake’s dick, which you end up being extremely thankful for when you find that your knees are watery and weak. You try to pretend you don’t notice the sheer amount of come that’s leaking out of you, thick and a little iridescent in the artificial light of your quarters.
You’re so fucked out that you hardly even twitch when Neytiri pulls you back against her chest, settling comfortably back on the mattress beside Jake. You end up squished between them in a pile of sweaty slack limbs. You feel so tiny next to them, especially considering the two of them don’t even fit properly on the bed – their legs are hanging right off the mattress, their feet planted on the ground as they nuzzle against you and each other.
Now that all the adrenaline is wearing off, you can certainly feel the ache left behind from all of your activities, and the sting from the sheer stretch of Jake’s cock.
“Ow.” You mutter absently, though it comes out muffled as your face is currently squished against Neytiri’s firm breasts.
She coos at you, her big hand stroking over the back of your head before she reaches out to smack at Jake’s forehead. “You were too rough with her, skxawng–”
“I was not– ouch, damn!” Jake flinches back, ducking down and using you as a floppy sort of human shield. “Okay, okay. You alright, honey?”
“Mm. Tired.” You mumble. You feel like you’ve just had all the thoughts fucked right out of your head, because you can barely string a sentence together right now.
“I have balms back at home,” Neytiri ensures you, her lips dragging over your temple. “Where you should be.”
You manage a breathless sort of laugh, your toes curling at the sound of that. They’ve always invited you into their home, but you’ve always been a little worried about overstaying your welcome. Now, all wrapped up in their naked embrace in your little blissful post-coital puddle, you find yourself almost deliriously thrilled about going back home with them.
“You hurt?” Jake asks, his voice rasping pleasantly in your ear. It sends a pleasant tingle down your spine, but that disappears almost instantly as his big fingers prod at the oversensitive lips of your pussy.
“Ow! Fuck, Jake, what is wrong with you-” You grouse, slapping his hand away from you. “No, I’m fine, but I’m sensitive down there. I don’t need your fat fucking fingers poking inside of me again.”
“You loved my fat fucking fingers before.” He grumbles, but there’s a teasing edge to his voice as he places a tiny kiss on the back of your neck. “Neytiri’s too, huh?”
Your cheeks heat in embarrassment, but there’s no point denying that. You just grumble incomprehensibly, burrowing deeper into their arms. Jake snickers, shuffling closer so that he’s completely plastered against your back, his big arm wrapped around both you and Neytiri.
Neytiri hums, enjoying Jake’s arm around her as her own hand trails over the valley of your waist and hips. “No need for others, syulang. You have us, yes? We look after you.”
You breathe a weak laugh, but your answer is interrupted by an ominous creaking noise coming from beneath you. There’s a brief pause, and then an almighty crash as your rickety old bed breaks from the weight of the two full grown Na’vi bodies laying atop of it. You squeal, but there’s really no need because Jake and Neytiri hardly flinch at all. They just glance down as though the wreckage of your bedframe is nothing more than a mild inconvenience.
“Oh my god.” You squeak, sitting up to try and see the damage.
“Does not matter.” Neytiri says dismissively. She’s stretching out, her lithe body elongating as she yawns like a big cat. “You will just stay in our bed.”
There’s a pause. You nearly start laughing, though you manage to bite back your reaction. Oh god, you’ve just fucked your best friends. It feels as though Jake has managed to screw your braincells right out of your skull, because all you can do is gape at their big, sexy bodies like an absolute moron. Not only have you just fucked your friends, but they’re also clearly expecting you to come back home with them.
“Lie back down,” Jake murmurs, reaching out to beckon you back to their sides.
“I should shower,” You mumble, but you’re already laying back down. Your hips are sore from being stretched so wide, and you have no confidence that you’re actually able to stand without your knees buckling. “I feel gross.”
“Bathe with us back at the village.” Jake says immediately, his wide nose burying itself into the back of your neck. He breathes deeply, and his chest rumbles in a quiet purr. It sends soothing little reverberations down your spine, encouraging you to relax into his big body.
You have a feeling that he just wants you to walk around the village, stinking of the two of them. You also have a feeling that it’s the same reason behind Neytiri leaving all of those throbbing hickeys behind on your body wherever her mouth could reach, and you can’t fight the tired smile growing on your face. You’re too tired to argue, and just flop bonelessly between the two of them, enjoying your warmth. It’s so familiar, laying in their shared embrace. You’ve been doing this for years, although admittedly it’s usually with the rest of the family and you’re usually clothed, but it’s still comfortably domestic and intimate.
You suppose you’ll doze for a while, napping in wreckage of your shitty old bed in the pleasant afterglow of what was probably the best sex of your life. Jake and Neytiri have burrowed so deep into your life, your mind, your body, that everything feels so bizarrely natural with them.
You won’t sleep long, you think as you cuddle up against Neytiri’s smooth skin, with Jake’s bulk curling around your back. Dinner will be soon, and you’re hungry.
pairing: jake sully x neytiri x tsu'tey x fem!human!reader
summary: a scientist arrives on pandora (unwillingly) a year after the exile of the rda. now she must deal with the likes of a clan leader, a great warrior, and a thanator rider. . .
word count: 7.k
read on AO3
15 October 2146
Dear Joan Reeds,
Hi Mom.
I know we’ve been sending video diaries to each other since you went to Pandora a year ago and this might be a little strange, but I thought writing this to you would be a lot less impersonal than sending a video. I don’t know, watching myself emote on camera has always made me uncomfortable—so when I respond to your video diaries, know that I’m actually excited to see them and not incredibly bored as I appear.
If that’s why you’ve stopped sending videos, because you think I’m bored of them, I promise you I’m not. And I miss your videos…
Year 2150
“—Unfortunately, your mother, along with the rest of the twelve other scientists had died before we were able to get them into quarantine.” One out of the three in military uniforms said.
You don’t quite remember how you got here.
Last you checked, your mother, Joan, was leaving for a huge project located on a discovered moon in the Alpha Centauri System. Pandora. An inhabited planet that the human population hoped to relocate. To find a newer home. Instead of the dying planet they created.
Joan had been accepted into the Avatar Program, a branch of the big project that had less to do with taking and more so giving. She, an esteemed scientist herself, would get to work with others like her. To explore a planet you only saw in dreams.
Dreams that would remain that way for a while.
You were only an apprentice at the time, ten years before 2150. Therefore, unqualified to accompany your mother on this new adventure. All you could do was be happy for her, even if she would be gone for a long, long time. But it was hard to be angry at that fact, remembering vividly how your mother looked before she left.
Identical eyes staring lovingly and worriedly back at you. Manic worry if anything.
“I want you to watch over the forest while I’m gone.” Joan laughed at your stunned expression. “You’ve been studying under me for years now, don’t be so shocked! You’ve followed me like a loyal shadow. My little shadow. You are the Head of the Amazon Division now. I trust you’ll continue my work.”
“Mom—I—are you sure?” A younger version of you asked. Ten years earlier you. “What if—how do you know? That I’m even ready? Surely there are more qualified scientists—”
Joan grinned, another identical trait you shared with her. “You have as much love for the Earth as I do. You have this determination, unlike any, to save it. To save what is left of this dying world, our home. Some might find it naïve. Others might discover a whole new planet to live on.” You smiled as she chuckled at that. “Yes, you will work with my second-in-command, he will show you the ropes—not like you already don’t know it—but he will be by your side until you are old enough to officially take over. But I have no doubt you can do it. And I need you to believe it too.”
There was a certain glow in your eye that matched your alight and determined face. This childlike wonder. This unyielding ball of hope that was you.
You nodded surely, holding her hand tightly, “I’ll do it. I’ll keep it safe for you.”
“Promise?”
You pressed your lips into a line, “Do you wanna pinky swear on it?”
Joan gasped, her face lighting up instantly. “I thought you’d never ask!”
Rolling your eyes at her excitement, you locked your pinky with hers. Tight and sure.
“I haven’t done this with you since I was five.”
“You’re never too old to make a promise!”
Joan then pulled you into a tight hug. Small drops of wetness fell onto your shoulder.
Neither of you said anything for a while.
She finally pulled away and pressed a kiss to your forehead. “I’ll come back for you. My little shadow.” That was her promise.
Then she walked out of the door. And all you could do was smile for her. You couldn’t even be sad.
The woman in uniform spoke up next. “Dr. Reeds? I know this is difficult information to process—"
You still didn’t remember how you got here.
Last you checked, Joan had been on Pandora for nearly five years now.
During those years, you managed to keep your promise in the beginning.
There were more trees planted, the water was becoming cleaner as the days rolled by, and you managed to gain some military protection for the forest—along with more researchers joining the cause.
During the first year of her in Pandora, your mother would send you video diaries of her time on Pandora, which prompted you to send videos back in reply. Showing your progress so far and everything you have accomplished.
One time she sent a video of her crying dramatically while holding up a picture of you as a toddler.
“Look what I found in my suitcase—sniffles—you were so small and cute back then—sniffles—guys look how cute my baby is!”
You remembered cringing and smacking your head against the table. Some of your colleagues also enjoyed a chuckle or two.
Tell me about the creatures and the plants. Take me on one of your treks through the forest in your avatar body. I enjoyed those videos the most. I always looked forward to them, even if you think I thought it was boring or too much of a lecture. I promise you it wasn’t.
I wasn’t mad about the baby picture by the way. Yes, maybe embarrassed—I was fourteen, Mom—but it’s nice that you took something with you to remember me by.
Also don’t worry about the forest, everything’s fine here. I saw all your emails asking about it. And I don’t want you to worry too much, not so much that it would ruin your experience up there. I have everything under control, Mom…
Sometimes the videos had nothing to do with talking. Joan one time sent a video of her sleepily talking to you about anything until she eventually fell asleep. The rest of the video would be of her sleeping.
You told her she didn’t have to send videos when she should be resting.
“I just want to see you, honey.” She would respond back. “Plus, talking to you is always a perfect end to my day.”
So you didn’t complain. Talking to her, seeing a new video arrive in your inbox always made your worst days just a bit brighter.
After the first year, Joan stopped sending videos. You didn’t think anything of it at first. All you assumed was that she was buried in her work. Which meant that whatever she was doing, must’ve been important. Life-changing even. And you weren’t going to interrupt that.
One year turned into two.
Two turned into three.
Four.
Four years of radio silence.
Scarily, you allowed yourself to wonder if she forgot about you.
And before you knew it, that thought abruptly left your mind in place of another.
The forest was on fire.
You remember rushing around the lab, grabbing every research hard drive, journal—anything important and belonging to your mother’s long hardworking years of work before it could be destroyed by the fire.
But. But none of it mattered.
The forest burned to the ground. Everything your mother worked for. Gone.
Gone. Gone. Gone.
“Dr. Reeds?”
Your hands were covered in ash and blisters.
She was dead. Her forest burned down a day ago.
Now the three in uniform stood with you in what was left of the forest. The grey daylight haunting in the smoke.
The mask you wore protected your facial expressions. “When did she…?”
One of the men cleared his throat. Two men and one woman. “Four years ago. A few months after she first arrived on the planet. Their lab was compromised with a deadly toxin—”
“You said that already.” You pointed out impassively.
The male nodded, “Right—We were sent straight after, unfortunately, the journey from Pandora to Earth takes…”
You turned away from them. You wanted to throw up. You want to scream and call them liars.
But you were older now. Emotions controlled. Face restrained.
There was a certain dullness in your eyes that matched your worn and solemn face. This beaten and bruised resolve. This unyielding wave of resentment that was you.
Your mother had been dead for four years.
Without you knowing about it until now.
Everything you had thought. Had assumed. It meant nothing.
You thought she had abandoned you. You thought you were alone.
Turns out she was already gone.
And you were still alone.
Blinking away ash—tears maybe, you couldn’t tell—and looked back at the three in uniform. “Alright. You told me. Thank you for coming.”
With that, you begin to walk away and continue cleaning the spot you’d been working on before the uniforms had approached. Dumping the burnt bark and ash of what used to be trees into a plastic bag.
“There’s one other thing, Dr. Reeds.” The woman spoke next. You tried not to scowl in irritation and reluctantly turned back to them. “Before your mother passed, she asked that you take her place.”
Your heart lurched and your body grew stiff.
“The late Dr. Reeds had made a lot of progress on some research that could’ve been beneficial for our organization and project.” The woman tucked her hands behind her back, back straight as she continued in a matter-of-fact tone. “We need someone like you who can continue the work without fail and who knows Dr. Reeds…particular work ethic.” You frowned at the wording. The woman—she seemed to be leading this small crusade. “We have an avatar waiting for you. All you need to do is come with us to Pandora.”
And there it was. Anyone would’ve seen this as a second chance. Another opportunity to fix your mother’s legacy. To keep your promise.
But all you saw was something else you could screw up. Something else for you to destroy by fire. Another way to fail her. The forest was gone. You had killed the forest. Now they wanted you to take your mother’s place—possibly to work on something shady that they have full control over. When was it enough?
When would people stop expecting you to be Joan Reeds? When would they see that you were nothing like her? That you weren’t their savior, that you weren’t someone to turn to whenever the original goal didn’t work? You were nothing. Everything you touched ended up destroyed. So why?
Why would your mother want you to take over her perfectly structured sculpture? When all you were was the hammer that shattered it down to pieces.
You tightened your jaw, “I’m good here. Again, thank you for coming.”
Once more, you tried walking away.
“Unfortunately, Dr. Reeds, it is not a request.” Now you were scowling at the woman, not bothering to hide the expression this time. “We’re in dire need of your mother’s expertise. She can identify resources that the RDA has collected—better than anyone. And we could use these sources to put those…our enemies in place. Heal poisons we have little information about. Your mother—”
“My mother, it seems, had no idea what she was getting into when she accepted that job for the Avatar Program.” You sized all three of them up with a quick resolve. “You’re RDA, correct? Hmm, my mother may not have seen it but I do. I see right through you all.” With that, you raised your chin and steeled your back. “So, for the last time. Thank you for coming. Now if you’ll excuse me, I just learned my own mother’s fucking dead. I’d like to take the time to grieve if you don’t mind.”
As you turned to leave again, your mind wandered. Your eyes stared bleakly at what used to be a beautiful forest. It used to be so life-like. So, so beautiful.
Your mother was gone. And so was her forest.
Maybe you should’ve seen it as a sign.
Mother dead. Forest gone.
And where were your tears?
You stopped walking suddenly when something sharp hit the back of your neck.
Instantly, without warning, your body crumbled to the ground with a thud.
Breathing was difficult. Your body couldn’t move. Black shoes filled your vision.
“Apologies, Doc. But I did say it wasn’t a request.”
Slipping from your control, everything went dark.
If you must know, your forest is making amazing progress. We planted exactly thirty more trees in the past two months and they’ve grown healthily! I’ll send you pictures of them once I’ve sent this letter.
But as I said before, there’s nothing for you to worry about here. If I wanted your help, I would’ve asked and you know this. You should be focusing on making life-changing discoveries on Pandora. Also, have you met Dr. Grace Augustine yet? I’ve just finished her book and I have many questions! Can you, possibly, maybe relay my questions to Dr. Augustine? If you’re not busy of course…
Year 2155
It had been a good day for Jake Sully.
A long and grueling hunt had ended with many other warriors succeeding in their finds, just enough to feed their families, enough to feed the entire clan.
His pride only swelled more when his mate and the current Olo’eyktan grinned proudly at him as they started their way back home.
“You’ve gotten better, ma’tiyawn.” Tsu’tey had said with a smirk.
Jake’s heart warmed, “Well, I had an amazing teacher.” Tsu’tey looked even more smug then until Jake added. “Tell Neytiri I said thanks.”
A huff left his mate's mouth and Jake laughed at his reaction. “Tell her yourself, skxawng!”
When they both returned to their new home—a new location after the Hometree was destroyed last year—it wasn’t long before their third mate, Neytiri made her way back from a hunt as well. And Jake was right. She had to be one of the best hunters of the clan as she came carrying back a rather large sturmbeest at her tail. Large enough for tonight’s celebration. She yipped loudly, raising her bow up in a cheer as she returned to the clan.
Jake and Tsu’tey couldn’t take their eyes off their mate.
Once she managed to get to them, Tsu’tey was the first to meet her in a warm and tight hug—careful to watch for the baby carrier strapped to her chest.
“And how was our boy’s first hunt?” Tsu’tey smiled down at the one-month-old child, their firstborn, Neteyam, who smiled at the sight of his papa. His smaller hands grabbed onto one of Tsu’tey’s fingers.
“He will make a great hunter.” Neytiri smiled down at him, grabbing Tsu’tey’s other hand. “And you? Did you find anything?”
Jake chuckled, looking back at the sturmbeest a few warriors carried by. “Not as good as you, babe. Let’s just say if we had made it a bet, you would’ve won easily.”
“What’s a bet?” Tsu’tey questioned, with a furrow in his brow.
“I’ll tell you later.”
When they made it back to their hut—Jake did a quick look around to find that it was empty. Sending a silent prayer to Eywa, which he found himself doing a lot more recently, he was relieved to find that Tsu’tey’s mother was nowhere in sight.
Artsut, who had been a frequent visitor to their home ever since Neteyam was born. Before then she had steered clear of their hut—not wanting to go anywhere near Jake. He was a demon, a false body, the stain on their clan. Jake was fine with her being away from the hut—that was when he could tolerate her the most.
But after Neteyam was born, after the perfect Na’vi baby had come out of Neytiri, Artsut came around more to care for her grandson. Which meant Jake had to deal with more of her comments and sneers—and he would. For his son.
Forcing Artsut to not see her grandson would’ve been too cruel—not just for his son but for Tsu’tey as well. Tsu’tey—who wanted to keep the peace between his mates and his mother. Tsu’tey, the only male in his family who is able to stand up to her and not take any of her shit.
So, Jake wasn’t worried for the most part. Artsut would play nice for Tsu’tey—her favorite son. Omatikaya’s rightful Olo’eyktan. And Jake would ignore her presence. A fair compromise.
Fortunately, he didn’t have to worry about seeing her now. Otherwise, his very good mood would be ruined.
“I went to see my mother today,” Neytiri said as she took Neteyam out of the carrier and gave him to Tsu’tey who was standing right next to her.
“For more training or something else?” Jake questioned, analyzing her body in a quick scan for any injuries he might’ve missed. “Are you okay?”
She smiled softly and pressed her hand to her stomach, “She told me that Eywa has blessed us with another child.”
Tsu’tey’s eyes widened and Jake’s mouth hung open. Neteyam watched them all quietly.
Neytiri looked down shyly, her ears fluttering, “I wanted to tell you at the celebration for a surprise but I couldn’t wait so—”
She didn’t get to finish as Tsu’tey launched himself at her, wrapping her in a tight hug, earning a joyous laugh from her. A large smile Jake hadn’t seen for a minute. Not since they first discovered Neteyam was coming.
Jake rushed over after placing his hunting equipment down, “You’re pregnant?” Neytiri nodded as Tsu’tey pulled away with a smile of his own. A grin broke out on his face as he pulled her in for a loving kiss, “Oh baby, I love you so much.”
All three of them joined together then—including Neteyam who giggled at their smiles. Sharing kisses, long hugs, and large smiles that they couldn’t contain.
Happiness was simple. That was what Jake believed.
He never thought he could achieve something like that. Not on Earth. Hell, no even on Pandora. Not after everything—but he worked hard for it. He kept going, wanting to prove to himself and his mates that he belonged there. That he was one of the People. That he would be a good mate. A good father.
And not something that destroys everything by a single touch.
Happiness was as simple as it was rare.
Whenever it came, Jake grasped onto it as tightly as he could. Because he never knew when he’d ever have it again.
He held on tight when Tsu’tey survived the battle against the Sky People. Nurtured it when Tsu’tey soon joined him and Neytiri in their union as mates. Loved it when Neteyam was born with his eyes and Neytiri’s markings.
But even then, even if he had a well-adjusted life a year into being on Pandora, Jake still had a long way to go. A long path to make up for all the strife he had caused.
For now, he would enjoy this night. He would enjoy being with his mates. He would enjoy this joyous celebration of the sturmbeest and the new life that would be here in nine months’ time.
It had been a good day for Jake Sully.
That night, Neytiri laid between Tsu’tey and him. That night he watched Tsu’tey’s body carefully as he usually did during the other nights. That night he couldn’t shake the warmth in his chest.
Happiness is simple.
At some point, Jake turned onto his back. His eyes trailing up to the sky. Stars. There were always stars here. And every night, Jake counted them until he fell asleep. Every night he had one arm around Neytiri. Every night he reached his hand out just enough until his fingers brushed against Tsu’tey’s bicep. Every night he would be the last out of the three of them—or four if he counted the heavy sleeper that was his son—to fall asleep.
Only this time there was a moving star in the sky. For a moment, Jake thought he was dreaming.
But the star kept moving. Closer and closer toward Pandora. Until Jake knew that it wasn’t a star anymore.
A body shifted, Jake instantly got up and placed gentle hands on Tsu’tey’s shaking body, trying his best to calm his mate down from the nightmares. Not knowing what he would do if he had to tell him—to tell Neytiri—that they were about to wake up in one.
It had been a good day.
Until it wasn’t.
Do you think I’ll like Pandora? I still dream about it. Being there with you. Do you still want me to come one day?
You woke up on a ship.
“Hold her down boys.”
At the moment, you hadn’t realized your body jerked roughly or that you were now being held down in your seat by a bunch of hands, far stronger and firmer than you. Never mind the tight seatbelt across your lap, no, they wanted to make sure you couldn’t escape.
So, you screamed. A horror-filled cry that sucked in all sound in the ship. Leaving the rest of the passengers with nothing but silence and your scream.
“Calm down, Doc.” The woman sat across from you spoke. The very same woman that approached you in your mother’s forest. “We wouldn’t want you harming yourself before we even get to the planet.”
With as much strength as you could muster, you tried pulling away from the two men sitting on either side of you, whose grips were practically steel. “What did you do?! Where the hell am I?!”
“I already told you five years ago, it wasn’t a request.”
You didn’t need to ask what she meant by five years. Your mother had told you about the process that got her to Pandora in one of her video diaries. You didn’t have to figure it out in your hazy state without getting pissed.
“You stole five years off me! What the fuck is wrong with you people!?” You seethed.
The woman looked unconcerned toward your outburst. “Your mother’s work is too important to give up, Doc. She and her group of scientists were close to probably giving us the one edge we needed against the Na’vi. The inhabitants of Pandora. With your mother gone along with the rest of her group, we were desperate for a replacement. Which is why we needed you. Which is why we wouldn’t take no for an answer.”
“Why the hell would I help you?!” You snapped, still fighting against the two male’s hold on you. “Get off me!”
“Boys.” The woman gestured for them to let go. After a pause, the hands were gone from your arms. And that was when you began to notice your surroundings.
Yes, you were on some type of ship with a few other soldiers. All of you strapped down to seats. And instead of your ash-covered clothes, you were now in a simple grey tank top, borrowed camouflage pants, and black combat shoes.
Slight groans and whines along the walls told you that the ship was still flying.
So you couldn’t escape even if you wanted to. You had been practically kidnapped by the military—the RDA.
And you were trapped.
That is, until you reach Pandora.
“Now if you’re done throwing a fit,” The woman brought out a tablet and held it toward you. “I’m Captain DeVoe, by the way. A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Doc.”
You didn’t take the tablet.
Captain DeVoe sighed before pulling the tablet away and began typing on the screen. “Your mother had been close to finding a way to create an antidote for the neurotoxin those savages use on the tip of their arrows. It’s dangerous for us humans. And our goal is to get this small obstacle out of the way in order to proceed with our mission.”
You let out a short laugh, your body still tense and trapped. “Like I said. Why the hell would I help you? What my mother does has nothing to do with me.”
“Oh, but it does, honey,” DeVoe smirked while you scowled. The captain had to have been in her mid to late twenties. Her hair was cut short into a blonde buzzcut. Toned muscles underneath her long-sleeved shirt. She looked like she could break you in two without even breaking a sweat. So there was no point in trying to fight her. At least not in this confined space.
She held out the tablet to you. And again, you didn’t reach for it. Instead, you pressed your back against the wall behind you. DeVoe didn’t lower the tablet. From your spot, you could see on the screen a light blue rectangle and a digital lock above it.
“She’s kept everything we need behind a lock. Her last words were for you to unlock it and finish her work.”
You raised a brow and crossed your arms, “Those were her last words?” Another brittle laugh left your lips. “Wow, you all must be very desperate.” You continued to laugh, unafraid of the glare the captain sent you. “Fuck you. Fuck everyone on the ship and fuck the RDA! I haven’t even gotten to see her body yet—did you even bury her? Or did you toss her aside when you didn’t find any use for her anymore?”
DeVoe blinked and frowned. She then sighed, “I am sorry for your loss, Dr. Reeds. Really, I am. And I know emotions are quite high right now—”
“Fuck you.” You snorted humorlessly before leaning back against the wall again. The two men on either side of you shifted. You ignored them.
“Yes, you’ve said that already.” DeVoe tucked the tablet down next to her right thigh. You glanced at it briefly before directing your scowl back to the woman.
A speaker suddenly came to life above all of you. “We’ve entered the atmosphere. Landing in twenty.”
You sat up straighter as everyone suddenly began placing what looked like advanced oxygen masks on their faces.
Through all your righteous anger, you hadn’t truly realized it until right then. You were on Pandora. You were going to land in the place of your dreams.
And you refused to be happy about it.
DeVoe handed you a mask as she grabbed bags from under her seat. “Quaritch was always good at being persuasive. He’ll convince you. He always—"
A loud boom rattled your ears.
The ship suddenly flipped—if not for the seatbelts, you would’ve flipped too—and then it felt as if you were falling.
Falling.
Falling.
Falling.
Falling.
You put on the mask in hopes of helping bring the air back into your lungs.
Falling.
Falling.
Thud!
Do you remember your second-in-command? JJ? Well, he retired recently. We threw him a really big party. Plus, he just had a baby too. I think it’s a girl last I checked, I’m going to have to ask Cheryl about that—you know her. Always being in the know with her coworkers…
There was no light. Heat closed in all around you, suffocating you and fogging your mask—or was that your quick breaths? No, that was the smoke.
Your ears rang terribly. People were moving but you couldn’t see who. Someone suddenly grabbed your arm, cut the seatbelt from your lap, and practically hauled your body from the seats and through the smoke.
You weren’t walking. A striking pain in your thigh prevented you from doing so.
Suddenly there was light. Lots of it. Your vision was somewhat clear enough to see that you were now outside. Enough for you to see that the one dragging you was a feral-looking DeVoe.
“Shoot them all down now!” She screamed. There was a long gash along her toned arm. “Contact base! We need backup ASAP!”
Finally, you realized what was happening.
There was fire—why was there always fire?
The large, winged creatures flew above the damage with people riding them. There were yips and hollers from the people on the creatures mixed with the explosions and shouts from DeVoe.
As your senses began coming back, as the world began to set around you, your instincts finally kicked in.
While DeVoe was distracted giving orders, you searched the ground until your eyes landed on a nearby rock. Quickly, you lunged for it, grasped it, and smacked it in the back of her head without wasting another second.
And the impact was hard too. You were sure you heard a loud crack from it.
When DeVoe ducked and stumbled, her grip on you loosened, giving you the chance to run. Or rather, limp through the wreckage and away from the fight happening around you.
But because of your leg, you didn’t make it too far.
A sudden weight knocked you down, a cry leaving your lips as you hit the ground. Wincing in pain from the burning in your left leg. When you tried getting up, the weight kept you pinned down. Whatever landed on top of you made sure you wouldn’t be able to move.
“I already told you!” Roughly, you were turned onto your back. DeVoe was on top of you, snarling. “You have no choice! Not when it comes to saving your race!”
“Get off me!” You cried out, trying to push her off. But DeVoe remained as firm as iron.
“That was a cute little stun you pulled back there. But make sure to remember this.” Instantly, she yanked your mask off.
Your eyes were wide and a loud gasp left your lips,
DeVoe grinned, a mad glint in her eye. “Your life is in my hands! That means I protect it or take it just like that! Don’t be stupid, Doc. Don’t make this more difficult than it has to be. Pick! I protect you or you die!”
You held your breath. More booms sounded around you. More winged creatures flew above you. More yips. More hollers.
Briefly, you glanced at the mask in her hand and considered everything leading up to now. Because you didn’t have much of a choice.
None but one.
Finally, you stopped fighting. Your limbs fell loose against her.
DeVoe nodded with a smirk, “Good choice.” She gave you back your mask and stood up. You kept holding your breath. “Back up should be here soon. We’ll have enough numbers to take down these savages—”
She abruptly cut herself off when you slammed the mask down on your good knee, shattering it.
You then started breathing in the air.
“What are you doing?!” DeVoe screeched, grabbing you by the front of your shirt.
You grinned now, struggling to breathe, “You need me. I don’t need you.”
To them, you were valuable. DeVoe knew this. Which was why you knew she wouldn’t go through with killing you herself. It was like they said on the ship. You were too valuable. And they were desperate.
And that value would be lost once you’re dead.
“Damn you brat!” DeVoe growled as she took off her mask. “Selfish bitch—”
Blood splattered across your face when an arrow found its way through DeVoe’s head.
She slumped against you, the mask falling from her hand and skittering onto the ground a few feet away from you.
Your mind had not realized that DeVoe was killed. Was dead now. All you cared about now was grabbing the mask.
So once you got the dead weight off of you, you began crawling toward the mask. Your breathing becoming a struggle with every passing second.
You hadn’t realized—just like with DeVoe—that someone was watching you. Curiously and quietly following you as you crawled. You didn’t realize you weren’t alone until blue feet appeared in your line of vision. Until four fingers took the mask off the ground and away from your grasp.
A whimper left your lips through hollow breaths as you looked up to find a tall, blue alien woman standing over you. With guarded, yet silently curious yellow eyes.
A Na’vi. You had seen them in your mother’s videos. You had seen her avatar.
“Mom.” You rasped, lying on your back. You didn’t know how much time you had. Might as well stick to the original plan then.
Become invaluable.
But Mom…
“I-I just want my Mom.”
The Na’vi woman just stared at you. Her fierce gaze turned into something somewhat contemplative. You weren’t even sure if she understood you.
Black spots covered your vision.
There was barely any oxygen left to grasp for.
“Demon.”
The Na’vi woman hissed just as you lost consciousness.
This had to be the second time you’ve woken up from passing out.
Only instead of a ship greeting you, it was a white ceiling. And somehow instead of lying dead in the ship wreckage, you were instead lying on a cot. With a bandage wrapped around your injured thigh.
It was slow—slower than before—but everything came back to you. You were on Pandora. DeVoe was dead. At least that’s what you remembered happening. The arrow through her head certainly wasn’t a hallucination.
But why weren’t you dead?
For a while, you just say on the cot. Trying to figure out what exactly happened.
The Na’vi woman. Did she…Did she give you the mask?
No. She’d have no reason to. Something must’ve happened while you were passed out.
You were in some type of cell—perfect—no bars but no doubt some type of impenetrable glass in front of you.
A groan left your lips, dropping your head into your hands.
How the hell did it get so much worse?
A door opened further away from your cell. A thin-looking man stepped through it. A human man.
You watched him carefully and silently. The human male nodded to you. “You must be Dr. Reeds.”
Instantly, you tensed and the words tumbled out of your mouth, “I already told DeVoe I’m not helping the RDA. So torture me all you want but you’re not getting shit from me.”
He raised his brows both curiously and observantly. “The RDA hasn’t been allowed back on Pandora for a year now. Not after the war.”
War? You carefully stood from your cot, “Then why am I here?”
“Because you were on an RDA ship—” You move to protest, “Before you say anything or curse me, I already know about Joan Reeds and your supposed arrival. But unfortunately, you arrived at a pretty bad time. The People are skittish. They think it’s best to keep you here for now—”
“What the fuck?!” You screamed. The resolve was broken. There was no composing anything anymore. Your face was heated. Your muscles ached. Your throat hurting. “I didn’t even want to come here! Those fuckers kidnapped me and now I have to be imprisoned in a cell because of them?! I’m not RDA! I have nothing to do with this! All I want to do is see my mother who I couldn’t even bury!”
Toward the end of your rageful sentence, your voice quivered.
“Is she even buried yet?” You asked him, your voice now quieter.
After a pause, the male nodded. “She was buried. She…She was one of the few humans the Na’vi got along with. They gave her a burial years before. She—I’m sorry for your loss.
Everything was so—heavy. You were just exhausted.
You hadn’t even been able to grieve for her. Cry for her.
“I didn’t even know she was dead.” You sunk back down on the cot. “Not for four years. I didn’t she was dead for four fucking years. And now I’m here. On a planet I’ve been dreaming about since I was young. But now it’s just some fucked up nightmare.”
There was a long silence between the both of you. The male rubbed the back of his neck before saying cautiously, “Yeah, this isn’t ideal—um, I’m Norm, by the way. Norm Spellman. I work in the Avatar Program. I—well, I didn’t know or meet your mother personally but she was an amazing and intelligent scientist. Her work here and on Earth is very admirable.”
You almost scoffed at that but said nothing.
Norm moved to say more but stopped instantly, pressing a hand to his ear. For a beat, you watched him bleakly, as if he were listening to something.
He then turned to you, “Hold that thought.” And as soon as you blinked, he was gone out of the room.
For a moment, it was silent.
And then you cried.
And cried.
And cried.
And cried.
And cried.
Until your eyes offered no more tears left to give.
Do you remember your second-in-command? JJ? Well, he retired recently. We threw him a really big party. Plus, he just had a baby too. I think it’s a girl last I checked, I’m going to have to ask Cheryl about that—you know her. Always being in the know with her coworkers.
I had to clean up cow shit yesterday. And I’m definitely smiling when I tell you this. It’s progress but you probably get to see and interact with creatures we don’t even have here. So, at least you’re up there…
Norm came back a little later after that. He approached your cell, typing something against the wall. A second later, the glass came down.
You straightened.
“They want to talk to you.” He said.
“Who?” You frowned tiredly as you slowly got to your feet, wincing at your thigh.
Norm thought for a bit, “Some representatives of the clan nearby.”
Reluctantly, you followed Norm out of the cell. He led you through a hallway until you approached a door where Norm grabbed a mask for himself and you.
“They’re right out there.”
When you walked out the door, you were startled to find three winged creatures and tall—really tall—Na’vi waiting at the landing strip where you were sure ships would’ve been. But instead, it looked a bit abandoned.
“Dr. Reeds this is the chief of the Omatikaya Clan, Tsu’tey, that’s Neytiri, and the last one is the clan’s Toruk Makto, Jake Sully.”
You analyzed all three of them. The Na’vi woman—Neytiri—you recognized from the crash. The one that had been standing over you before you passed out. Long braids, warrior paint on her face—matching her body posture she instantly took as soon as you came out of the building, and a bow clutched in one hand with a fierce expression. She was sizing you up. Same as you did.
The next one—Tsu’tey—watched your movements carefully. Out of the three he looked like the one in charge, a leader, someone that of importance. His snarl was severe, even making Norm shift uncomfortably despite it not being directed at him. He gripped a spear tightly in his hands, his eyes following every slight movement you made. As if readying himself to take you down the moment you step out of line. Dangerous beast.
Then there was Jake Sully. If you hadn’t learned his name, you could instantly tell that he stood out somewhat among the three. Compared to Neytiri and Tsu’tey, Jake’s stance was different. More human-like. Like a Marine—which you had been around back on Earth. They were mostly the ones hired as military protection, so you were around them often. Jake was exactly that. But it didn’t make him any less fierce or severe.
Then of course there was the gun that he held—another huge thing that stood out among the three of them.
“And this is Dr. Reeds. She was supposed to replace the late Dr. Joan Reeds, a friend of Grace—”
“Why is she here now?” The leader, Tsu’tey interrupted with a scowl. “We need no more demons here.”
You chewed the inside of your cheek but didn’t say anything. Norm, fortunately, continued talking so you didn’t have to. “The timing’s off, I know, but it’s on record that she was supposed to arrive here upon Dr. Reeds' last request. And confirmed by Dr. Augustine herself. She’s only a scientist, that’s all. We even have an unused avatar waiting for her.”
Tsu’tey didn’t look convinced, not surprising. Neytiri’s eyes never wavered from you. Jake’s tail swished behind him, but his expression was unreadable.
Norm cleared his throat, “If Grace approved of it—”
“Where’s my mother buried?” You asked. All four eyes snapped to you. Norm gave you a look that you ignored. “Spellman told me she had a burial here. I just want to see her. That’s all.”
“And then what?” Jake questioned, eyes narrowed. His face was still guarded.
You didn’t care for it. “I don’t know. Maybe then I’ll go back to Earth and die with the rest of the planet. Does that suffice?”
Tsu’tey frowned, clearly not liking your response while Jake lowered the gun slightly. Neytiri slowly eased out of her defensive stance.
Norm chuckled nervously—attempting to save your sardonic response, “You hear that? She said she’ll leave.”
You breathed out a sigh. God, you were so tired. “I just want my Mom. Please, that’s all I ask.”
Another beat went by before Jake, spoke first but in another language. Tsu’tey didn’t look happy at whatever Jake was saying, his ears were pinned to the sides of his head. Neytiri, on the other hand, looked contemplative.
Eventually, Jake turned back to you with a stern frown, “We’ll have a few warriors take you to your mother’s burial.”
“And after you do not return.” Tsu’tey hissed, his violent eyes pinning you in place. If I see you on my grounds again, I will kill you, demon.”
Jake breathed out through his nose, closing his eyes. He then looked at you, “Understood?”
You huffed, “Loud and clear.”
You’re far away from this mess and I think that’s good. Not that there is a mess, I’m just saying metaphorically….You know what never mind. I hope you’re having fun, Mom.
Please respond. I miss your videos. And it’s getting pretty lonely down here.
I still want you to have fun so don’t put too much energy into trying to respond.
I’ll leave you now.
Love,
your little shadow.
PS.
Remember how you said I accomplish more stuff than you could ever imagine? I kind of get the feeling you were only saying that to make me feel better. It’s pretty clear by now that out of the two of us, you’re gonna go far. Farther than I can reach.
Okay, bye now.
yes, another series! this time i'm going full force with the poly than i do with my other fics. and you guys have this beautiful fanart to thank!
also i listened to you're gonna go far by noah kahan the whole time i wrote this chapter so it's probably obvious i was inspired by that song. anyway, i hope you guys enjoy this new mini series of mine for anyone that's still out there in the fandom lol. i hope you guys will give this a chance--and tell me your thoughts when you're done! i love hearing from y'all. full rants and everything!
satoru hates the idea of cock-warming. he thinks it's pointless, getting the opportunity to be in you, and not even bothering to make the most of it.
his idea of making the most, well, it would consist only of fucking you so hard, you won't be able to move the next day. that's what good boyfriends do, right?
"good boyfriends do whatever their girlfriend asks them to do," you counter.
satoru whines in response, looking up at you. all pretty, you're seated in his lap, as he lays on the bed. strands of white hair fall into his eyes, and you brush them away.
he pouts, "i am a good boyfriend." satoru's getting impatient, wanting to just feel your snug cunt around him. his throbbing cock sits hard on his stomach, red-tipped and leaky.
"then, please?" drawing out the syllables, you give him the best you can: puppy eyes. he caves. instantly.
grumbling, "fine. i guess you can put her in you. willingly choose not to move, too, or whatever."
you clap your hands, emerging victorious. you're not willing to test your luck, though, not commenting on the fact that you've told him multiple times not to refer to his penis with she/her pronouns.
he groans as you sink onto him, his thick length pushing past your spongey walls. there's a filthy squelching that fills the room, paired with your quiet whimpers.
satoru's hands grip your hips, fingers digging into the flesh. "shit, pretty girl, tight 'n' wet f'me. taking me s'good." his words slur into one another, lost in the depths of arousal.
there's always a certain amount of self-control it takes, to not immediately cum the second he's all the way in. "'toru," you murmur, accidentally clenching around him.
"fuck," he mutters, "you can't do that, squeeze your little pussy like that, if you aren't gonna do anything about it."
"sorry," you say, sheepish. his eyes flutter shut, a hum dismissing the apology.
"now, what? just... stay like that?" satoru tilts his head at you, questioningly. sassy, if you may add. he just really can't believe you'd rather be doing this.
shifting above him, you lean down, resting your head on his bare chest. "yeah. isn't it nice?"
his arms wrap come up, to wrap around your waist. there's a beat of silence from him. begrudgingly, your rigid boyfriend shrugs, "maybe."
you're too content to roll your eyes. he wouldn't admit it, but satoru was filled with love, in this moment. his shoulders relax, and his entire body seems to ease, a breath of satisfaction leaving him. he feels at peace. he's always at peace, when he's with you, but this is different.
more real. more raw.
it's incredibly intimate. he feels like he's a part of you, like there's nothing keeping you separated. satoru inhales your scent, holding you just a little tighter.
"baby, i love you," he whispers, voice thick with emotion.
you smile against him, "i love you, too, 'toru."
to say the least, cock-warming is his new favorite thing. there is no sitting beside him on the couch anymore, not when you're alone. no laying next to each other on bed, either.
if he was clingy before, he's a monster now. if you're near, he wants to be inside you. not to have sex, but just to rest. it's not like you're complaining, anyways. at the end of the day, you're down bad for him, just as much as he is for you.
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you called him old so he left you walking like an 80 year old grandma - 18+ mdni!
when suguru turned thirty, he turned thirty and mean. thirty and annoyingly smug when he’s got you bent over the bed, crying into the pillow because “your old man” won’t stop rearranging your guts like it’s some sort of fucked-up home renovation show.
you shouldn’t have called him old but you did. out loud. with your whole chest. sitting pretty in his lap like a bratty little devil, batting your lashes and smirking up at him,
“you groan like an old man when you sit down, ya know that?” and then, as if that wasn’t enough, the fatal blow, “damn, sugu, think your back cracked when you sneezed.”
he just stared at you for a moment, calculating exactly how long it would take to make you regret it.
“…huh,” he’d said, real slow, the smirk not reaching his eyes. “guess i better show you what this old man’s still good for, hm?”
fast-forward to now. you’re face-down in his mattress, legs spread in that shameful little v, trembling, mouth slack, eyes crossed. and suguru’s behind you, utterly relaxed, like he’s out on a sunday stroll. except instead of walking he’s thrusting, so slow and deep, like he’s trying to make you feel every one of his thirty years.
“what’s that, sweetheart?” his voice is syrupy, almost bored, like you’re the one inconveniencing him. “wasn’t too old last night when i had you crying, was i?”
you whimper. that’s all you can manage. you try to say, “no, sug-suguru” in a fucked-out slur, but it just makes him laugh.
and he keeps going. keeps fucking you like he’s got something to prove. as if it’s your fault he’s thirty and hot and way too fucking good at what he does.
you try to crawl away once—legs shaking, knees weak—but his hand lands between your shoulders and pushes you down like you weigh nothing.
“uh uh,” he tuts, leaning over you. “gotta walk the walk, sweetie. you wanna act like a brat, you take your punishment.”
and your punishment is slow, merciless strokes. his cock heavy and thick, splitting you open again and again while he keeps your hips pinned.
he mutters something about “teaching you some damn respect,” but you barely hear it over the wet squelching of your pussy and his cock, your ass meeting his thighs and your own broken moans.
by the time he’s finished—after three rounds and three orgasms he made you beg for—you’re half-conscious, thighs soaked with your mixed releases and twitching, drooling into his pillow like a feral animal.
and he has the audacity to scoop you up, chuckling, kissing your temple like he didn’t just age you 60 years.
“you okay, grandma?” he grins.
you’d punch him if you could move your arms but instead, you settle for a hissed, “fuck you.”
he snorts. “think you already did that, sweetheart.”
the next morning, you limp to the kitchen, hand on your lower back, legs wobbling, and glare at him through sleep-hazed eyes while he sips his coffee like nothing happened.
he doesn’t even look up. just smirks behind the rim of his mug and says, “better watch that attitude, darling. i am still in my thirties. stamina’s not going anywhere.”
you swear, one of these days, you’ll be the one leaving him walking funny.
but not today. right now, you need a heating pad and a wheelchair.
Best friend!Choso quits smoking and replaces one oral fixation with another!
CW: cigarettes (<3) and nicotine withdrawal, nipple play, “tits," reader referred to as a slut (for Choso) one time, implied p in v
In the midst of all your lecturing and, admittedly, nagging, you’d never considered just how intolerable best friend!choso would be when you finally convinced him to quit smoking. After years of trying, Choso had ultimately been convinced by your threat that he wouldn’t be allowed to sleepover anymore and continue to leave that “nasty fucking stench” all over your bed. He’d pouted, rolled his eyes, and rolled them again when you told him to stop being a “drama queen.” After huffing back a “whatever” (drama queen), he’d gone on your balcony and chainsmoked the remaining cigarettes in his pack.
That was three days ago, and since then, he’s been… a mess. All antsy and tense and irritable. All his huffing and puffing while he lays on your chest, on his side and half his body weight on you, clinging picking and pinching at your skin. You understand he’s going through withdrawal, you get it – it’s the third day, notoriously the most difficult – but you can’t stand him at the moment. Which is why you tell him to “get up” before you take your shirt and bra off, and lay back down. Choso’s mouth opens and shuts comically fast, but his eyes don't stop nervously shifting between your breasts and your face.
“What’s wrong, Cho? You’re acting like you’ve never seen a girl’s tits before,” you tease, and you don't mean for your voice to waver.
“Not yours,” he practically whispers.
The few seconds that pass are unfamiliarly awkward. In all the years you’ve been friends, Choso had never been good at hiding his attraction towards you. It wasn’t crazy to expect him to immediately be all over you. Well, his mouth. You both loved cuddling, platonically, of course, and he had his hands on you literally whenever he could reach. Yeah, not too good at hiding it.
“Well, I’m tired of you complaining. I thought that, maybe-”
“Complaining? I didn’t even say anything?”
That’s what he has to say right now?
“Ok. Whatever.”
You shift to put your shirt back on, but you’re immediately pushed back on the bed. Choso retracts his hand from your shoulders as if he’d been burned by the touch.
“Sorry. It’s just… what are you doing?”
“I thought that maybe you could use a distraction. I don’t know, like, something to keep your mouth busy. You know, considering your oral fixations.” The last part hits nowhere near as playfully as you intended.
His voice sounds so strained when he asks you if you’re being serious. You simply nod in response, and feel your pussy clench when he pulls the “I need to hear you say it.” You force the image of him using those words to make you beg for his cock out of your head. That’s not what this is about – he’s waiting for you to establish your boundaries.
“I’m serious. I know that you’re used to having a cigarette in your mouth, like, all the time,” your face shifts into a sarcastically stern expression that he doesn’t seem to find humorous in the slightest. You clear your throat. “So…you can touch me, Cho. I mean it. You can use your mouth and your tongue on me. My tits. And, we- uh, we don’t have to talk about it either.”
“Okay,” Choso agrees easily and nods. His cravings have been getting stronger with every minute. And, oh yeah– the whole cigarettes and the withdrawal thing. He could not give a single fuck about that right now.
He looks so damn shy as he slowly settles back down on your now-bare chest that it’s almost shocking how fast his mouth is wrapped around your hard nipple. He lets out a noise of relief, somewhere between a hum and a moan, before he starts gently sucking. At the noise you let out, undoubtedly a moan, he tilts his head upwards towards you as far as he can without detaching his lips from your nipple. The sight is so sexy and you feel a gush of slick leak into your panties when you meet your best-friends half-lidded eyes. He looks so damn relaxed, like he’s half awake but entirely still dreaming. Like they always do when he’s in your lap, your fingers find their way to his hair and scratch his scalp. You give me a half-nod to let him know he can (please) keep going. He nods back, hollowing his cheeks and sucking harder before he’s laying back down.
You throw your head back into the pillow, eyes squeezing shut when you realize that you’ve been so selfish. Yes, your whole oral fixation-based logic bullshit technically made sense. Yes, you were doing this to help him out. Like a good best friend. But truthfully, you thought about Choso every time you played with your nipples (your pussy, too), and you played with your nipples a lot. You loved using your bull nose nipple clamps and sitting on your knees at the edge of your bed like a begging slut while you rubbed your clit. Loved it because it was so easy to cum like that when you imagined Choso stood above you, one hand gently tugging at the chain while his other roughly yanked your hair.
You snap your head off the pillow when you hear a pop. You feel the cold air hit your wet nipple and quietly whine at the loss of the warm sensation. With his mouth slightly ajar, Choso moves his hand to grab your tit and direct your nipple straight into his mouth. In a split second, he remembers you’d given him consent to use his mouth and tongue. Not his hands. And it’s the bare fucking minimum, but your best friend is just so sweet. His eyes widen and you know that he’s about to apologize.
“You can use your hands. I want you to,” you affirm with a small smile.
He thanks you before he squishes your tit with his hand and latches his mouth around as much of your skin as he possibly can. He bobs his head slightly up and down, spit forming in his mouth as he tries to dig himself into your skin. His hand darts to the other side of your chest to finally pay attention to your poor, poor, neglected nipple. He opens his palm to grab as much of the soft skin that he can and begins to slowly, roughly knead your tit. You can feel his palm rubbing against your nipple, but it’s not enough. You know you should be grateful, but – “fuckk, just like that, Cho.”
Choso stops squishing your tit and begins to squeeze. His fingers slowly move inward until he has four fingers against one edge of your nipple and his thumb against the other. He pinches your small bud and fucking pulls. His fingertips squeeze your nipple tighter and tighter every second he pulls them away from your body. Slow, slow, slow, until your nipple slips from his fingertips and your tit bounces back. And then he starts squishing, and squeezing, and pulling over and over again.
At this point, the spit in his mouth is starting to dribble down his chin. It looks like he’s trying to drown in your tits, like he wouldn’t mind if he died from suffocation if he meant he never had to pull his mouth off of you. He pushes his face and nose deeper into your skin and you feel his mouth slightly loosen. You notice just how tightly you’ve been squeezing your thighs together when your pussy pulses at the realization of what he’s about to do.
He flicks his tongue downward, then upward, then downward again, a few slow, curious movements. And then, he starts moving his tongue faster than you thought possible, all while still looking so damn relieved and at peace. Your hips jerk up and down with his tongue and you know you’re already about to cum. Choso, who’s dreamed (and jerked off to the thought) of making you cum since he first met you, knows it too.
“Fuck! I’m so close. M’gonna cum for you, Cho.”
He doesn’t dare to change the speed of his tongue, but he squeezes your other nipple between his fingers and rubs it harshly while he pulls and pulls and pulls. He needs you to see you cum so fucking badly. You take the hands in his hair and shove his mouth deeper onto you. He moans into your nipple, his version of words of encouragement at the moment. The sound of his moans being muffled by your tits sends you over the edge, the reality of the situation hitting you hard. He takes the hand pinching your nipple and traces it down your spasming body to hold your hips down.
His thumb digs into your hip bone, unconsciously rubbing soft, loving circles onto the skin. When your hips finally still and he hears you sigh, he closes his mouth tightly around you and gives your nipple one last suck. You feel your slick still leaking out when you hear the loud pop. Choso drops his forehead onto your collarbone, and feels his own hips jerk forward into your side. His cock is so fucking hard that it hurts. Honestly, he thinks the sight of your face could make him cum right now. He winces.
“Choso?” you whisper.
He lets out a small, embarrassed “hmm” into your neck.
“Hey, look at me,” and he does, of course. “That felt so good, Cho. Was that okay for you?”
His hips jerk forwards again. “Yeah, fuck. I needed that. Didn’t, uh, think about cigarettes once.” He also didn’t cum, and he needs that too. He looks down and sees the small bruises starting to form on the skin from all his sucking, sees your protruding nipples, and is a second away from excusing himself to jerk off and finish in your bathroom.
“You knowww,” you draw out, “you only sucked on one of my tits. Guess you can get to the other one next time your cravings get really bad. Unless…”
He can not form words right now, not with you half under him and your thighs visibly tightening again. So, he grunts, and he means it to be a “what.” His very best friend, you read his mind.
“I can feel how hard you are, Cho,” you say with a small frown. “Maybe, we could keep going until you finish?”
Despite his borderline humping you at this point, he lets out a small laugh. “That- yeah, that wouldn’t take too long.”
“Hmm. And what if you sucked on this one,” you say, your fingers coming up to pinch the nipple his hands had just been abusing, “and let me watch you touch yourself.”
Yeah. That works for him.
He does a cute, awkward crawl over you and to the other side of your body for easier access while pulling his pants and boxers down. He wastes no time and starts flicking his tongue on your nipple just as fast as before. It’s so overstimulating and painful in the very best way possible.
With how he’s laying on his side, you see and feel his fat cock resting on your hip. He wraps his hand around the base and squeezes as if trying to stop himself from cumming. It’s a useless attempt, and it only takes a few shallow and fucking fast jerks of his cock before he’s pulling his mouth away from your nipple and whining. He hurriedly shifts to stand on his knees, jerking his cock over your face.
“Please. Can I, please - oh my god, please.”
“Yeah, baby. Wherever you want,” and like the little slut for him that you are, you open your mouth and stick your tongue out.
“Oh, fuck. Good fucking girl.”
His eyes roll back and his jaw slacks and the sight of him is fucking beautiful. He keeps pumping his cock through his orgasm, using his hand to guide and spray his cum across your tits, on your face, and the last of it straight into your throat. And when you think there’s no way he could cum anymore, you wrap your lips around the head of his cock and milk the last few drops out. You release him with a moan and leave a small kiss on his slit.
He pulls his pants and boxers back on, tries to ignore the uncomfortable wet patch in his boxers, and grabs a washcloth from your bathroom. After he wipes your skin clean, he grabs you a pair of comfy underwear to change into. The small thong you were wearing is so wet it almost sounds heavy when it lands in your hamper.
The two of you lay in your bed, both quiet and trying to catch your breath. You stare at the ceiling and can’t help but laugh, realizing your best friend just made you cum from nipple play. You roll over to face Choso and find the concern in his eyes.
“I know you said we didn’t have to talk about it, but, thank you. For letting me touch you like that. I’m sorry that I’ve been…such a grump… and I’m sorry if you felt pressured into letting me do that,” he says, followed by an audible swallow.
“Cho, I loved that. I mean it. And it was my idea, you know, I just kind of took my shirt off. I probably, definitely, should have talked to you about it beforehand. I think it’d be better if we talked about it…again.”
Choso scoots close enough that you feel his breath and the faint cigarette smell has never bothered you less. He opens his mouth to speak, but realizes himself that he still faintly tastes and smells of cigarettes. He pulls his head back, clears his throat, and questions what you mean by again.
“Well, according to the internet-”
“Tiktok?”
“Whatever. According to the internet, the third day of nicotine withdrawal is typically the worst. So, hopefully it’s only up from here! But, if you start to…act up again, no offense, then I have some other ideas to help you out.”
Choso hums and squints his eyes suspiciously. “Yeah? Like what.”
“You know, like, other things with your tongue?”
“Ah. I think I’m still not sure what you mean.”
You roll your eyes. Choso is not that stupid.
“What if you showed me what you mean?” he tries.
“Well, I’m thinking of two things, and I can really only show you one of them,” you admit honestly.
Now, Choso could drag this out, but you just blessed him with your tits and pretty face and your orgasm. And if you’re saying what he’s ninety-nine percent sure you’re saying, he would like to do that now.
“Oh, I get it. But I’m not eating your pussy until I kiss you first.”
You would also like him to do that now, so it’s no surprise when your lips are on each other’s in seconds. His tongue, which left your nipples sore, by the way, swirls against yours and you immediately give in. He brings a hand to your face, thumb rubbing against your cheek so sweetly as he deepens the kiss. You’re the one to break away from the kiss first, one-hundred percent sure you were going to do this with him for the rest of your life. You rub the tip of your nose against his nose so sweetly that what comes out of your mouth next is a little shocking.
“I need you to suck my clit, right now. Want you to shove your tongue in my pussy, Cho,” you say sternly and practically pout. There’s no need for that, you know he would never say no to that. And you’re right, of course. He kisses your nose, your lips, and your chin, before his lips are trailing down your body, stopping to pay extra attention to your nipples. You’re fully soaked when he reaches your pussy. But, like a tease, he avoids your folds and your clit for as long as he can, focusing on nipping at your thigh.
“Still okay if I use my fingers?,” his teeth gently clamp down on your skin. Tease.
With your verbal permission, he’s wrapping his lips around your clit and curling a finger into your dripping pussy. It’s fucking perfect.
That night, Choso learns that he would – will – never touch another cigarette in his life if it meant having you like this. He also learns that night, as do you, that you can squirt. Over and over again, apparently.
After too many orgasms on his tongue to count, he asks to please eat your pussy until you fall asleep. He kisses your clit and laps at your pussy with a flat, wide, tongue until he feels your fingers in his hair entirely loosen. With a few more kisses up and down your folds, he falls asleep laying on your thigh, his face basically buried in your pussy.
Choso doesn’t have a chance to reminisce on his first-thing-in-the-morning cigarettes when he wakes up feeling your warm and wet heat so close to his face. He certainly doesn’t have a chance to reminisce when you wake up and ask him to please fuck you. And he’s so grateful for his best friend. Especially when you say yes to being his girlfriend while he’s impaling you with his eight inch cock. <3
a/n: did i write parts of this with my nipples clamped? maybe. was this supposed to have more plot but i got too horny and couldn’t wait? maybe.
synopsis: shifting for the first time to surprise your boyfriends leaves you a whirlwind of nerves, but with the guidance of your closest companions, you discover an animagus form that feels entirely, unexpectedly like you.
warnings: sweetheart!reader, r is shy and anxious, r is best friends with regulus and barty, animagus transformation, magic, snow, fluff, panic and anxiety, seasonal cold/snow, mild self-doubt, feelings of nervousness and vulnerability.
You stand nervously in the middle of the snow, your breath rising in small clouds as it meets the crisp winter air. Every nerve in your body feels alive, tingling with anticipation and fear.
Pandora and Regulus are both staring at you, their expressions calm but attentive, while you panic and spiral quietly to yourself.
Your thoughts feel heavy, though you are still very much yourself, very much human, in this moment.
“It is completely normal to feel nervous during your first transformation,” Pandora says gently, kneeling slightly in the snow to be closer to your level.
“Especially when you do not even know what your Animagus will be.”
You shake your head, panic prickling in your chest. “I… I don’t know if I can do this,” you admit, your voice trembling. Your hands fidget with the cuff of your sleeve. “What if I fail? What if I hurt myself?”
Regulus steps a little closer, his hands shoved into the pockets of his coat, his expression composed yet firm. “You will not hurt yourself,” he says, his voice low, carrying a quiet certainty. “I know you. You are careful, and precise. Even your first attempt will not be dangerous.”
Your eyes widen as worry twists in your stomach. “But what if my Animagus is dangerous? What if it is something wild or… I don’t know… something I cannot control?”
Regulus lets out a short, amused chuckle. “You are my best friend. You would not be capable of producing anything dangerous. And honestly, I would not be surprised if it turns out to be something completely harmless. Likea butterfly.”
You pout, shoulders tense, feeling a little relief at his attempt at humor but still trembling. “I don’t know how to transform. What if I just… cannot do it?”
Pandora opens her notebook carefully, the pages crisp against the cold air. “Don’t worry,” she says, flipping to the page she has marked.
“We will go through the instructions step by step. Focus on your breathing. Relax your muscles. Visualize the form you wish to take. Imagine every part of your body shifting, folding, and changing until it feels natural.”
Regulus crouches slightly beside you, watching you carefully, his dark eyes bright with encouragement.
“The first time I transformed,” he says, a faint grin tugging at his lips, “I became a cat. Tiny, soft, and like a black shadow. I hid under the couch for hours because I was terrified I would break something or scare someone. But I learned to control it. You will, too. It is just a matter of patience and practice.”
You bite your lip, your gaze dropping to the untouched snow beneath your feet. “It still feels… impossible.”
Pandora reaches out and gently rests a hand near your shoulder, careful not to startle you. “Nothing worth doing comes without some fear. It is natural. The important part is that you try. That you don’t give up on yourself before you even begin.”
Regulus leans a little closer, lowering his voice to something almost conspiratorial. “I will be right here watching and making sure nothing goes wrong. I promise. And if it does… well, we will handle it together.”
You take a deep breath, feeling the crisp winter air fill your lungs, and step carefully back onto the thin ice near the edge of the frozen stream. You pull your scarf tighter, though it is heavy and awkward against your suddenly smaller frame.
Pandora kneels a few steps away, her notebook still in her hands. She tilts her head slightly, watching you with gentle patience. “Remember the steps,” she says softly.
“Relax. Focus. Visualize. You have worked for months for this. You can do it.”
You tense your muscles, every fiber of your body trembling, and let the magic flow. It begins at your toes, a strange tickling warmth that moves up your legs.
The sensation is dizzying, surreal, like every bone and muscle is bending in impossible ways. Your heart pounds, and you stumble on the ice, flailing slightly before your hooves catch.
When the shift is over, you stare down. Your hooves press into the snow, delicate and firm. Your legs feel both fragile and alive. You take a small, tentative step and then another, testing balance and coordination.
The cold snow presses against your fur, sparkling on the tips of your coat.
You flick your ears nervously, eyes wide, and glance toward Pandora and Regulus.
Their reactions hit you like a shock. Pandora gasps softly. “Oh… my…” Her eyes are wide, full of awe.
Regulus steps closer, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, though his voice carries a quiet wonder. “Incredible,” he says, crouching slightly.
Your tail flicks nervously, and you back up a few steps toward the frozen stream. You pause at the edge and lower your head toward the ice, sniffing, trying to understand yourself in this body.
The reflection that stares back at you makes your chest tighten with disbelief. Small, wide eyes, soft brown fur, and delicate white spots across your back.
A little deer.
You paw at the snow, testing your legs, and take a careful step forward, then another, discovering the agility in your new form.
Pandora tilts her head, eyes widening with so much joy that she practically glows. Her breath bursts out in a delighted cloud as she claps both hands over her mouth.
“Oh my god, you are like a little fawn!” she squeals, bouncing on her toes as if she cannot contain the excitement. “Look at you! You are tiny and spotted and absolutely precious!”
She crouches down a little, leaning closer with shining eyes.
Regulus chuckles lightly, crouching so he is level with your eyes. “I would never have guessed, but it suits you.”
Your ears twitch at every sound—the whisper of the wind, the crunch of snow beneath Regulus’ boots, the distant caw of a bird.
A tiny, excited leap carries you forward, snow spraying around your hooves. Your movements are clumsy but joyful, and a little thrill of freedom surges through you.
Pandora claps her hands softly, and Regulus leans back, eyes bright with amusement and pride.
The snow, the forest, the cold, the magic;; it all feels like it is yours, in this moment, completely and beautifully yours.
The second you shift back into your human body, you stumble straight onto your knees in the snow. A rush of wild exhilaration bursts through your chest, so powerful you can barely breathe.
I did it!” you gasp, practically choking on your own smile. “I did it, I did it! Pandora, Regulus, did you see that?”
You don’t even wait for an answer. You throw yourself at Pandora so fast she lets out a startled squeal of laughter as she catches you.
“You did it, sweetheart!” she cries, gripping your shoulders and shaking you a little in excitement. “You were amazing! I knew you would get it!”
You shake with excitement and cling to her a moment longer before turning and launching yourself at Regulus.
He stands with his arms half-raised, pretending he is not expecting it, although his eyes soften the moment you collide with him.
“Regulus!” you gasp, grabbing the front of his coat and practically bouncing on your feet. “i was a deer—a real deer! with spots and hooves and everything!”
His arms come around you slowly, steady and grounding, as if he wants to hold onto your excitement without letting it overwhelm you. His voice is low, smooth, calm.
“I know,” he says. “I saw the entire thing.”
You pull back a little, cheeks flushed, breath quick. “Did I look strange? Did I look ridiculous?”
He tilts his head, meeting your worried gaze, and a small, almost imperceptible smile touches his lips. “No. You were amazing,” he says softly. “Even when if the transformation was a little sloppy, it was perfect. You handled it better than anyone could have expected.”
You cover your face with your hands, heart pounding, and he gently moves your fingers aside, brushing snow from your hair.
“But you were also adorable,” he adds quietly. “A very, very adorable deer.”
You couldn’t help but feel giddy on the inside at Regulus’s praise.
He may have been your best friend and closest companion, but it was rare for Regulus, of all people, to show any emotion at all—let alone let his pride seep through the cracks of his carefully maintained walls.
A word of praise from Reggie, meant the world to you. It made your chest feel lighter, your heart warmer, and every bit of hard work you’d poured into becoming an Animagus feel completely worth it.
Pandora laughs again, brushing snow off your sleeve. “You should be proud. What a beautiful Animagus form.”
Regulus steps back and lifts one eyebrow. “Well then. Off you go, amour. Go show your boyfriends before you burst from excitement.”
You gasp dramatically and clutch Pandora’s hands. “We have to go. I need to tell them right now.”
Pandora squeezes your hands with the same excitement. “Go. They will be thrilled.”
****
“James!” you call the moment you burst into the common room.
You don’t even wait for him to answer — you grab his wrist with both hands and start tugging. “Come on, come on, come on, I need to show you something!”
James barely has time to blink. “Merlin, love— what’s got into you?” He’s stumbling after you, curls bouncing, but he’s already smiling because you’re smiling.
“Sirius!” you call over your shoulder. “Remus! Get over here!”
A groan answers you from the couch. “It’s snowing,” Sirius complains, dramatically wrapping himself tighter in a blanket. “Do you know what snow does to my hair?”
“You’ll survive!” you say, breathless and glowing. “Please, Pads, it’s really— really— really important.”
Before Sirius can argue again, Remus appears from the hallway, book still in hand, scarf slung over his arm. He takes one look at you, practically vibrating with joy, and his whole expression softens.
He steps forward and gently cups your face with both cold hands. “Dovey,” he murmurs, brushing his thumb over your cheek, “take a breath. You’re shaking.”
“I know,” you say, grinning so hard your eyes crinkle. “I’m sorry— I just— it’s important, Moony.”
“No apologizing.” He smiles faintly. “Just slow down enough so we can keep up with you.”
“Right— right, okay,” you say, even though you’re still bouncing a little on your toes.
Sirius slinks over now, muttering under his breath, blanket still draped around him like a cape. “This better be worth frostbite.”
“It is,” you say, nearly squealing.
James squeezes your hand, brows raised in playful intrigue. “Are we going to pull a prank? Because if this is about causing some trouble, I’d like to mentally prepare first.”
“No! Well— no. Not this time.” You tug him closer. “It’s a surprise.”
Remus lets out a small, fond sigh and flicks his wand. Scarves whoosh out of his bag and wrap themselves neatly around each of your necks, warm as a cup of tea.
“If we’re going out,” he says, adjusting yours with gentle fingers, “we’re doing it without any of you getting sick.”
Sirius brightens immediately as the warmth hits him. “You should’ve led with the free winter gear,” he says, looping his scarf twice. “Very persuasive.”
“Alright,” James says, squeezing your shoulders, “where to, sweetheart?”
“Outside,” you say, practically glowing. “Hurry!”
Sirius opens the door with a flourish, snow drifting in on a soft, icy breeze.
You step into the center of the courtyard, breath puffing in front of you in little clouds. The boys stand a few feet away, bundled in their scarves, waiting.
But now that they’re actually here, watching you… your heart stutters. Nerves flutter in your stomach. You take a small step back.
Sirius tilts his head, a curious smile tugging on his lips.
“Come on, sweetheart,” he teases, “what is it you’re dying to show us?”
James laughs breathlessly. “Yeah, love, you’re scaring us a little.”
You swallow, nod once, inhale deeply—
And then you shift.
The world ripples around you, magic curling over your skin like warm light, and in a blink, you’re standing on four legs in the snow.
A small, soft deer with your fur dusted with flakes, breath steaming in the cold.
Three pairs of eyes widen dramatically.
For one perfect moment, silence.
Then—
James absolutely screams.
“Holy— Merlin’s scruffy stag— when— how— what—!”
James grabs Sirius’s arm, his eyes wide as if holding onto someone might help him process what he just saw.
Sirius stays frozen, mouth slightly open, completely still, like he can’t believe what he’s seeing.
Remus just blinks, taking a moment to register it all, his expression caught somewhere between shock and awe.
You stamp your little hooves impatiently, looking at them with wide, pleading eyes, as if to say, Well??
James is the first to find his voice, stumbling over words in his excitement.
“When did you even—how did you go through the Animagus process without us knowing— ”
You can’t help it. The thrill of it, the joy of finally revealing yourself, bubbles out uncontrollably, and you jump, bouncing in the snow, spinning and hopping with excitement.
And suddenly Remus breathes out a stunned laugh. “Oh, sweetheart— come here—”
You don’t even let him finish. You gallop straight toward him and tackle him into a soft drift of snow. He goes down with a yelp and then bursts into laughter, wrapping his arms around your warm neck.
“Okay— alright— alright— you’re heavy like this—” he wheezes, still grinning up at you. “Merlin, you’re beautiful.”
You nuzzle his cheek before prancing away, hooves crunching through the fresh layer of snow.
James is already crouched, eyes wide with pure awe and giddy pride.
“Look at you!” he gushes, one hand reaching out carefully to stroke between your ears. “You’re perfect. D’you know that? Absolutely perfect.”
You lick his sleeve and he laughs like a little kid.
Then you turn to Sirius.
He hasn’t moved at all.
He’s standing like someone hit him with Petrificus Totalus, except his eyes are huge and soft and the tips of his ears are pink from the cold.
You trot up to him and blink up at him with wide doe eyes.
He inhales sharply. “Oh… oh no,” he whispers. “You’re— you’re literally the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.”
He drops to his knees instantly, hands hovering like he’s afraid to break you.
“I have so many questions— so many— but I can’t think right now because your little face is attacking my soul.”
You poke his side with your velvety nose.
He giggles. “Oh, that’s illegal— don’t look at me like that— Bloody hell, you’re adorable—”
He finally wraps his arms around your neck, burying his face into your fur. “I’m never letting you be human again.”
You snort loudly, which makes him laugh even harder.
And then—
James shifts into his stag beside you, tall and magnificent, nudging your shoulder with a joyful snort.
Sirius rolls his eyes, stands up, and transforms in a smooth wave of magic — a huge black dog shaking snow from his fur.
You squeak (or… whatever the deer equivalent of a squeak is) and immediately bolt across the courtyard.
Prongs and Padfoot charge after you, hooves and paws thundering through the snow.
Remus stays human, arms crossed, scarf fluttering in the wind, laughing helplessly as you dart behind him for protection.
He places one steady hand on your back.
You press closer to Remus, hiding half behind him, peeking out just enough to flick your ears at the two troublemakers.
Remus laughs and pats your side.
“My brave girl,” he teases softly. “Hiding behind the man who can’t even shift.”
You nudge him indignantly.
Padfoot and Prongs are still waiting for another chase, but both of them stay where they are when Remus places one calming hand on your back.
“It’s alright,” he murmurs. “Take your time. Whenever you are ready.”
You close your eyes. The magic rises again, warm and familiar now, like sunlight curling through your limbs. Your shape shifts. Your hooves sink into the snow and dissolve. Your fur pulls inward. The world tilts once, gently, and then settles.
You are human again.
Your knees fold, and you collapse forward into Remus’s chest, breath coming out in a startled gasp.
His arms tighten instantly, closing around you with a fierceness that makes your heart swell.
Remus’s hand rests lightly on your back, his voice soft as he leans down. “You alright?”
You lift your head just enough to meet his gaze, still flushed and breathless, and nod. “Yeah.”
Then, with a little nervous grin, you stare up at him. “Soooo… what do you think?”
He lets out a quiet, fond chuckle, brushing a hand through your hair. “I think… you’re amazing.”
You peek up at him through the scarf, a little shy but still glowing with excitement. “You… really think so?”
“I do,” Remus says quietly, his thumb brushing over your cheek. “You were incredible. All of it. I’m proud of you.”
Your chest swells, and you can’t help the soft, delighted laugh that escapes you. “Thank you… I was so worried you’d think it was silly or—”
Before you can finish, a loud chorus breaks through the calm.
“There she is!” James cries, barreling through the snow toward you, his hair dusted with flakes, a grin plastered across his face.
“You have an unbelievable amount of explaining to do, darling,” he announces, although his voice is far too warm to be truly scolding.
You giggle and pull your scarf close, cheeks warm despite the cold. Remus keeps one arm wrapped firmly around you as if he refuses to let you go now that you are back in human form.
“I know,” you say, still breathless and glowing. “I know I should’ve told you sooner. I just… needed to be sure. I didn’t want to say anything until I knew it was real.”
James’ brows lift, but his eyes are nothing but warm. “So all of this… has been going on for a while, then?”
You nod, hands twisting together for a moment before you make yourself meet their eyes. “A little over a month. Pandora helped me with the theory — she’s brilliant, honestly — and she was so patient with me. Every single time I messed up, she just tried again with me.”
Sirius snorts softly, though his smile is fond. “Of course she did. Pandora Lovegood could teach a rock to dance if she felt like it.”
You laugh, cheeks warming. “And Regulus helped too with the practical pieces. Making sure I didn’t try anything too reckless. He’s… very steady. He kept me grounded.”
James hums under his breath, impressed. “So he knew before we did.”
“Only by an hour!” you say quickly, as if it matters. “Today was the first time anything actually worked. And as soon as it did, I ran straight here.”
That earns you three different smiles, all of them soft.
Sirius nudges your shoulder gently. “Good. Because seeing you turn into that little deer might be the cutest thing that has ever happened in my entire life.”
You hide your face in your hands for a second, which only makes James laugh and pull your hands back down so he can see you. “Hey,” he says softly, “none of that. We’re amazed. That’s all.”
Remus’ hand finds its place on your back, slow and steady, his touch radiating reassurance. “You did something incredibly difficult, love,” he murmurs. “And you did it beautifully.”
Your breath catches in your throat, not because of nerves this time, but because of how full your chest feels.
You end up pulled into all three of them at once, completely surrounded and impossibly warm despite the snow drifting around your boots.
James presses a kiss to your cheek. “I’m so proud of you.”
Remus tightens his hold just slightly, voice low against your ear. “We all are.”
Sirius rests his chin on your shoulder. “Our little Bambi,” he says with a grin you can hear.
You let out a tiny laugh, too flustered to hide it. “Bambi?”
James grins. “Well, we can’t exactly keep calling you dovey now that we know you’ve been prancing around the forest behind our backs.”
Remus leans in slightly, his breath warm against your temple. “So,” he murmurs, a subtle smile in his voice, “do you want us to stick with dovey… or should we be calling you Bambi now?”
Your cheeks warm immediately. You duck your head a little, trying not to smile too widely.
“I don’t know,” you say honestly, the words coming out softer than you intend. “Either one is fine.”
Sirius snorts lightly. “That’s not an answer.”
You laugh under your breath, nudging him with your shoulder. “I don’t have a preference,” you admit, eyes flicking between all three of them. “If it’s from you, I’ll like it.”
James’ smile softens, warm enough to melt the snow still clinging to your coat.
“Well then,” he murmurs, brushing a bit of snow from your hair, “come on, Bambi. Let’s get you inside before you freeze.”
You and Iwaizumi are on your way back from a meal out with friends, cruising through the quiet streets as he drives you home. It’s that in between hour where it’s not quite day, not quite night, where the sky is the colour of cotton candy and the sun is barely peeking out between the clouds.
You’re halfway into a rant about one of your friend’s questionable love life when something—or someone, rather—stops you dead in your tracks.
Literally, because Iwa brakes at the red light.
“So then I told her, why don’t you just dump his ass if he’s so—holy crap he’s cool.”
You barely register Iwa’s inquisitive hum when the low growl of a motorbike creeps up beside the car.
Damn. That’s hot.
He’s like the personification of an eclipse.
Black helmet. Black jacket. Black jeans. Slick black bike. You can’t even see this man’s face, but his demeanour alone is enough to do something to your pulse.
You bite your lip to contain the cheesy grin that’s about to break out onto your face and turn to Iwa. “He is so fine."
Iwa gives the stranger a quick side glance and huffs something close to a laugh. “You into bikers now?”
“Didn’t used to be. I’ve been getting a bunch of videos on my Instagram, though, and I’ve kinda been converted.”
Iwa shakes his head in either amusement, or bemusement—hard to tell. What’s clear is that he’s not fully grasping the appeal of this majestic individual, so you smack his arm like it might knock some sense into him.
“No, Haji, look. I’m serious.” You ball your hand into a fist and gnaw on your knuckles to contain a squeal. Your brain replays the time Maki and Mattsun called you a crazed lunatic and said Hajime was your carer—only to stomp the thought back down.
“What do I do?” you breathe.
“You can’t even see his face."
“Doesn’t matter,” you chide, ignoring Iwa's painfully typical male response. “It’s all about the body language. The aura, you know?"
"Can't say I do."
"Never mind."
You’re leaning forward now, peeking through the side mirror, heart kicking up as you admire the handsome stranger. Iwa’s right—you can hardly see the guy’s face through the helmet visor, but your imagination does all the work for you. Sharp jaw. High cheekbones. He’s got a lazy slouch that fits the brooding image you’ve painted of him perfectly. One hand rests on the throttle, the other tapping a rhythm on his thigh like he’s got nowhere better to be.
“Should I say something?” you whisper, rocking in your seat like a kid who just spotted a celebrity and is building up the courage to ask for an autograph.
“Want me to open the window?”
“No—“
Whirrrr.
You stare frantically at Iwa as the window slides down with a mechanical whir, and the purr of the biker's engine fills the silence.
"How could you do this to me—"
Iwa just clears his throat, gaze fixed on the road ahead as if to say, from now on, I am no longer present. Good luck.
Your stomach flips.
It's fine. You're overthinking. Maybe he didn't even hear. Maybe you can play this off. For all he knows, you just rolled down the window for some fresh air.
The biker turns his head.
Annnd you just made eye contact.
Well, you think you did. It's impossible to tell with his visor tinted so dark, but it definitely felt like eye contact. You realise you're still staring when the biker subtly jerks his chin at you in silent question.
Something wrong?
You’ve barely got time to think. The light will turn green any minute and it dawns on you that you might miss your chance.
And so—because you’re well-versed in the art of biker Instagram reels and see these kinds of interactions all the time—you lean out the window just a little and put on your best smile.
“I like your bike,” you call, only to immediately regret it because surely you could’ve said something better than that.
The man tilts his helmet slightly, like he wasn’t expecting the compliment. His voice is muffled, low, and amused when he replies:
“Thanks. You drive?”
Oh. Does he think you’re a fellow biker?
You snort at the thought. “God, no. I don't think that'd be safe for anyone." You wave a dismissive hand before adding, "I'm just the co-pilot."
He rolls his shoulder back, spine straightening just enough to give you a better look.
Hm. He’s broader than you imagined. Taller, too.
Guess being hunched over was hiding all that potential.
“Mm. The hard job,” he says—and if your ears aren't deceiving you, you'd say he was teasing.
Perfect. You can't help but grin. Now's your chance.
"The hard job," you echo. "Are you hiring?"
Iwa lets out a sound caught between a laugh and a groan.
The guy laughs—just a little. Deep and dry and unfairly attractive. Success, you think. At least you made him laugh.
Then, without looking away, he flips his visor up.
You try not to stare.
Dark, tired eyes. Green like freshly picked apples. Strands of messy brown hair falling over his forehead. It feels like a tease—one that has you impatiently wondering what the rest of him looks like under all that gear.
“What’s your name, passenger princess?”
You can hardly believe your ears. As if he's actually going along with this.
“(Y/n).”
“Suna,” he says. “You free Friday?”
Ohmygod. Ohmygod.
“You don’t even know what I like,” you goad, emboldened now that you've confirmed his interest.
He revs the engine once in response—slow and suggestive. “I know one thing.”
Your face warms.
Then he shifts forward slightly, one hand reaching into his jacket pocket. When it re-emerges, he’s holding a phone—already unlocked, already open on the “new contact” screen.
He doesn’t say anything, just gives a little tilt of his head as he extends it toward you through the window.
You take it and blink down at the screen.
Suddenly, you no longer remember your own name.
Your mind scrambles, fingers hovering uselessly over the keyboard as your brain reboots. When it finally does, your thumbs fly across the keyboard. You add your name, number, and a cute little emoji for good measure (a bike and princess emoji), then you hand it back, biting back a grin like a kid in a candy store.
He glances at the screen. His shoulders bounce, just once, like he laughed under his breath. Then he slides the phone back into his jacket.
The light turns green just in time.
“See you Friday, (y/n),” he says. And somehow, you have a feeling he’s smirking.
He lifts two fingers off the handle in a lazy little salute, then peels off into the night.
You spin in your seat so fast the seatbelt locks in place. “Haji, did you see that?! I got a date in like under two minutes!”
He’s already turning the corner, half smiling at your success. “Sure did. Guess that means I’m dropping you off on Friday?”
You giggle into your palms.
Best. Red light interaction Ever.
thank you to everyone who likes, comments &/or reblogs! ☺️
♥︎ ݁ 𓏲 men who can’t stand leaving you sexually frustrated
he comes home later than he meant to, shoulders slumped, jacket half-off like he barely made it through the door. he’s tired, distracted… until he sees you. you’re curled on the couch, blanket slipping off your legs, that restless little shift in your hips giving you away instantly.
“hey,” he breathes, dropping his keys into the bowl. “you okay?”
you nod too quickly. “yeah. i’m fine.”
he studies you for three seconds—long enough to see the tension in your jaw, the way your thighs press together, the way you won’t quite meet his eyes.
“no, you’re not.” his voice goes softer, warmer. “come here.”
he doesn’t pull you—he just pats his thigh, and the gesture alone unravels you. you move toward him like you can’t help it, settling between his knees as he lifts your chin with two fingers.
“tell me what’s going on,” he murmurs, thumb brushing the corner of your mouth.
you try to play it off, but your voice cracks halfway through the lie. “i just… couldn’t get comfortable.”
his brows lift the slightest bit. he knows exactly what that means. exactly how long you’ve been trying. exactly how tightly strung you are.
“baby,” he says quietly, “why didn’t you call me?”
your lips press together, embarrassed. “you were busy.”
“i’m never too busy for you,” he answers, quick, like it’s instinct. a thumb strokes your cheek. “look at you. you’ve been suffering.”
his tone is soft—his grip isn’t. he guides you gently backward onto the couch, settling between your legs without hesitation, his hands warm on your thighs. he doesn’t tease. doesn’t draw it out.
“spread for me,” he whispers. it comes out hoarse, roughened by exhaustion and something needier, something hungry.
you open for him, and he exhales like he’s been holding his breath all night. “good girl,” he breathes, leaning in to kiss just above your knee. “let me take care of it.”
his fingers slide higher, finding the heat between your thighs, and the moment he touches you, your hips jerk.
“fuck,” he mutters, eyes half-lidded. “you’re already shaking.”
you grab his wrist without thinking, overwhelmed, but he just kisses the inside of your thigh, slow and grounding.
“don’t hold back,” he murmurs. “i want to hear you this time.”
his fingers move in slow circles, building you up with that infuriating precision he always has. you moan softly, trying to quiet yourself, but he shakes his head, brushing his nose against your skin.
“no. let me hear it,” he says, voice dropping lower. “i hate knowing you were struggling without me.”
your breath stutters—his pace picks up. his other hand slides up your stomach, pressing you gently into the couch, keeping you settled.
“there you go,” he whispers when your thighs start trembling. “that’s it. don’t run from it.”
the pressure builds fast—and when your hips buck, he holds you down firmly, teeth grazing your inner thigh as he murmurs, “you’re so close, baby. don’t fight it.”
your voice breaks when you say his name. that’s what ruins him.
“yeah,” he groans, almost desperate. “say it again. i’ve been thinking about that all day.” you’re barely holding it together when he leans up enough to kiss you messily and slow—his fingers never stopping.
“cum for me,” he whispers against your lips. “i’ve got you. let go.” and you do—you fall apart so hard your whole body trembles, fingers fisting his shirt as he talks you through every second of it, kissing your cheek, your jaw, your shoulder like he’s trying to soothe you from the inside out.
“good girl,” he exhales, forehead against yours. “that’s my girl.”
you’re still catching your breath when he slides a hand up your waist, voice low with everything he’s holding back. “we’re not done,” he murmurs. “i just got home.”
i couldn't decide if this was more satoru or toji so we'll leave it ambiguous...
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thinking about pharm tech!gojo who flirts with you every time you come to pick up your meds and initially you don’t think anything of it until he finally shoots his shot and asks you out. you end up fucking raw on the first date (something you NEVER do) and holy fucking shit obviously he was hot af and built but jfc you had no clue that this cocky pharm tech was not only packing a big ass dick but actually knew how to use it as well. truly, you’ve never had anyone rearrange your guts that well before. so yeah you’re gonna keep him around.
and gojo?
yeah as soon as he slid his dick through those fat pussy lips and into your warm, wet, gushing hole he knew he was in love. third stroke he was planning the proposal. seeing the slight bulge in your tummy from his cock had him mentally writing his vows. and you calling out his name when you squirted everywhere as you came and seeing his cum slowly dripping out of your well fucked hole? yeah next time you came to pick up your meds he’d make sure to conveniently forget to fill your birth control. not like you were gonna need it anyway!
yeeeeeah so this is 100% kali's fault. was having a normal conversation with @blkkizzat about pharmacies and medication when boom this pops in my head. so yeah i am not responsible for these demons. i am but deny deny deny! anywhoosies now that this is out of my system, back to working on the other brainworms 🤪
── .✦ oblivious to all of your fellow slayers' attempts to flirt with you, you blissfully go about your training... until sanemi's patience finally breaks.
── .✦ contents: set during hashira training arc, established (hidden) relationship, possessive!sanemi, reader oblivious to being hit on, rage-baiting sanemi turns wrong, implied sexual content at the end
── .✦ 3.5k words
⋆˚꩜｡was supposed to be just posted on my nsfw blog, but i got carried away with setting up the plot, so i had to split it up into two parts LOL, enjoy!
Every step you took across the gravel path felt like your calves were going to burn off.
It was a bright, early morning, the crisp air tickling your nose nicely in contrast to the heat inside your legs from Uzui's training the day before.
You were halfway adjusting the strap of your sword when you heard footsteps quicken behind you.
"Oi-! Wait up!"
You turned just as two other slayers jogged to catch up to you, both still looking a little roughed up from yesterday's endurance rounds.
"You didn't tell us you were heading to Shinazugawa's training this morning," one of them said, brushing hair from his eyes in a way that he definitely thought looked smoother than it actually was.
"Oh," you smiled, "I thought I mentioned it last night when everyone was talking over dinner?"
The other snorted. "We knew, just didn't know you were going early."
You blinked, tilting your head. "It's not early? Training starts in like twenty minutes."
"Yeah," he said, a little breathless, "and you're already up and walking. That's early."
You laughed, not catching the way their eyes lingered on your figure. "I just didn't want to be late!"
"You look good, though," the first one said, and when you looked at him with confusion, he immediately backpedaled. "I mean—awake! Awake. You look awake."
You grinned at that, completely unbothered. "Thanks! I slept really well."
Which wasn't entirely true, you never slept well when you weren't sleeping next to Sanemi, though they didn't need to know that.
"Bet you're the only one," the second guy sighed, "I couldn't even lift my arms last night."
"Uzui's training is brutal," the other agreed, "Wouldn't blame you if you skipped the next one."
"Oh no, I'm fine," you hummed, "I'm excited for today, actually."
They exchanged a look, probably thinking that you were insane, before one of them jogged ahead a step to hold a branch out of your way.
You thanked him with a smile, to which he nearly tripped over a rock from how hard he smiled from that.
The path curved toward the open field where Sanemi held his sessions. You could already see the training posts in the distance with the battered wooden dummies.
"So... you ever trained with him before?"
"Mhm," you nodded, "A few times."
"Really? And you survived?"
You laughed, shaking your head. "He's not that scary."
With the way both men stared at you, you'd think that you fought Muzan with your bare hands or something.
"Not that-? Okay." He rubbed the back of his neck, "Guess we're seeing a different Hashira, then."
You hummed, stepping over a fallen branch. "He's really patient if you just focus and listen."
The guy on your right choked in response, the other slapping him on the back.
You raised your eyebrow, but didn't push it. You just kept walking, appreciating the way the peeking sunlight warmed your shoulders.
It wasn't until the field finally opened fully before you that you realized something was off.
Because Sanemi was already there, a few other slayers were lingering around as well in preparation for the training.
Standing in the middle of the grounds with his arms crossed tight, and a scowl wrinkling his face... like he'd been waiting long enough to be irritated about it.
His eyes slid from you to the two slayers walking beside you... and then back to you.
You didn't need to be a genius to read that look.
The guys stiffened instantly, hissing under his breath, "Shit, he's looking over."
"Good morning, Mr. Shinazugawa!" You called to him, cheerful as ever.
Sanemi didn't respond. Instead, he just tipped his chin toward the two at your sides.
"They always follow you around," he asked suspiciously calm, "Or am I just lucky enough to see it every damn time?"
Both guys paled.
You stared, processing, before nodding. "Oh! They were just accompanying me."
Sanemi's jaw flexed, "Yeah, I figured." He muttered.
He turned away sharply, barking for the rest of the trainees to line up, but you knew him too well. That wasn't irritation.
It was jealousy.
You paid no mind to it, really, you found it cute!
Which, of course, only pissed him off more.
You stepped into line with the others, rolling your shoulders out and doing some other small stretches as a shadow loomed over you, casting a shadow over the sun that was warming your skin.
You looked up to see one of the guys who walked up with you.
"Oh, hi!"
He was the taller one, sweat still drying on his temples, bokken slung behind him like he thought it looked impressive.
"Didn't wanna crowd you while we walked," he said, scratching the back of his neck. "But... I, uh... can help you stretch, if you want?"
You smiled, "Oh, that's really thoughtful-"
His face brightened instantly.
"-but I'm okay! I just need a minute and I'll loosen up."
His smile faltered, but he didn't move away. If anything, he stepped closer, close enough that you could see the small cut healing over his cheekbone.
"You sure?" he pressed gently, "You pushed hard yesterday. Mr. Uzui really had you going."
You laughed. "Did he? I didn't notice."
He stared at you like that was the hottest thing anyone had ever said in history, although of course, you didn't catch it.
"I, uh—yeah," he murmured. "You looked good yesterday."
You looked at him, "...Huh?"
"Good," he repeated, swallowing. "Strong. Focused. I thought, well... if you ever wanted a partner to practice with, I'm usually free in the mornings."
"Oh!" You perked, "Thank you! I'll remember that."
You absolutely wouldn't, but you meant the sentiment sincerely.
He was gearing up to say something else, when suddenly the temperature in the air shifted.
Not the air... not the sun, nope, not quite.
A chill cut sharply through the warmth behind you.
"Oi."
Sanemi's voice cranked across the field like a blade unsheathing.
He was right behind you, you could feel him.
You could also feel the glare radiating past your shoulder, aimed directly at the man who'd been looming over you a second ago.
"Training starts in ten," Sanemi barked, "So unless you're planning on flirting your way through drills-"
The guy choked. "I-I wasn't flirting-!"
"Didn't ask for your excuses," Sanemi snapped. "I said get in formation."
He practically sprinted away.
You huffed, still smoothing out the tension in your legs. "...He was just talking to me," you murmured, glancing up at the man behind you.
Sanemi didn't look at you. Didn't even blink, or breathe, as far as you could tell.
"He was hovering over you," he muttered with a clenched jaw, "There's a difference."
You frowned, standing up as you dusted dirt off your pants. "He was being nice."
Sanemi finally looked at you.
And that look... that sharp, disbelieving, how-are-you-this-clueless look... You knew it well.
"Tch. Whatever," he grumbled, walking around you and shoving his hands in his pockets. "Just keep your distance. Don't need idiots crowding you before drills."
You just smiled as you rolled your eyes, making him stalk off muttering something under his breath about "damn women."
He barked for everyone to get into their starting positions, dirt flying up in the air with everyone's scurried movements.
You slipped into your row, settling into your stance. A few other slayers shuffled closer, flocking towards you like birds to bread.
"Man, I'm not ready for this," one of them groaned, rubbing his shoulder. "Everyone said Mr. Shinazugawa's training is the worst."
Another nudged him. "Speak for yourself, I like it. Builds character. Besides-" his eyes flicked to you, "-some people make the morning worth showing up for."
You brightened at that, "Oh! That's sweet-"
"It's creepy," the first guy hissed under his breath, elbowing him as they both laughed like idiots.
You paused, confused at the exchange, but smiled through it nonetheless.
Sanemi, who stood ten feet away with his arms crossed tight enough to burst a nerve, didn't miss a word of this exchange.
His eye twitched... just a little.
Barely noticeable, but you noticed.
He lifted his training bokken suddenly, snapping it against his palm. "If you morons are done gossiping, we can start."
The two men beside you stiffened like they were caught stealing.
Sanemi hardly looked in your direction, but every time someone leaned too close or whispered something to you, his jaw clenched tighter. He corrected the trainees one by one, pacing down the line like a prowling wolf.
When he stopped behind the guy standing to your left, the poor man jumped like he'd sensed a demon breathing down his neck.
"You," Sanemi said coldly, "What are you staring at?"
The guy paled. "N-nothing, sir."
Sanemi leaned closer. "Then focus on your stance instead of wandering eyes."
You glanced at them, fingers fiddling with your wooden sword. Was that about you?
Probably.
But he wasn't looking at you at all, he kept continuing down the row, seemingly unfazed.
The warm-up drills began: footwork, controlled strikes, and defensive pivots. You fell easily into the rhythm, and you could feel eyes on you as you moved, though you focused on yourself.
"Your form's really clean," one guy murmured beside you when the groups rotated. "You want a partner for the next drill? I'd be happy to work with-"
"She already has a partner," another interrupted, sliding in on your other side. He sent you a grin. "We usually train together, right?"
"...We do?"
They both froze.
Sanemi stopped mid-stride, head turning slowly, watching with an expression that could cut stone.
You, oblivious as ever, just nodded cheerily when both guys offered to demonstrate the next exercise for you. "Thanks! That helps a lot."
A loud crack echoed.
Sanemi had slammed the bokken into the nearest practice post so hard that the wood splintered.
Everyone jumped as he shouted. "Rotate! Next drill, move it!"
You hurried with the group, continuing to the striking portion, the part everyone seemed to dread, his infamous drill.
He called the first trainee forward. Whack, strike, counter, strike, strike. It was brutally efficient.
One after another, slayers were demolished, rolled to the side, gasping, then shoved back to their feet.
When it was your turn, you stepped up confidently... apparently a little too confidently for the two guys behind you.
"She's gonna do great."
"Yeah, she's tough."
Sanemi didn't acknowledge them, just standing in front of you, finally looking at you.
It wasn't soft, no, it wasn't fond either... just a sharp, hyper-focused intensity that hyped you up even more to do well.
"Ready?"
You smiled. "Mm-hm!"
He hated the fact that his heart warmed at that.
He struck hard, exactly like he did to everyone else. No hesitation, no wavering at all.
You countered, your footwork sure, absorbing each hit with practiced resilience.
Sure, maybe you were slightly at an upper hand, getting to train personally with him from time to time, but it was your own efforts that got you to where you were.
Sanemi struck harder with every murmur he heard talking about you, not to hurt you, but more for himself. To drown out the noise.
You took every hit like a champ, a well-seasoned slayer. He never thought you looked more beautiful.
And apparently, he wasn't the only one, the whispers kept going, growing.
And that only made Sanemi's grip tighten until the wood creaked.
When the drills ended, you were flushed, breathing hard, skin stinging, but ultimately proud of yourself.
"Great work today," someone said, offering you a water gourd like he was presenting a sacred treasure. "You want help wrapping your hands?"
"Oh! No, thank you, I can handle it!"
He deflated a little, but of course, he didn't give up.
"If you're sore later, I know a really good bathhouse near my place," he added, trying for casual and failing miserably. "Steam, private, good for the muscles. I could... y'know... help out. Since we trained together and all."
You stared at him.
Was he... coming onto you? No... surely not.
"That's... really nice of you, but-"
Before you could finish your sentence, someone else cut in.
"Oi! Why're you offering her a bath?" Another slayer asked, adjusting his uniform as he stepped closer. "That's a little forward, don'cha think? She probably already has plans."
"Plans?" The first guy echoed, brows furrowing as he stared at you. "You do? With who?"
Who does this guy think he is?
You opened your mouth, but Sanemi's opened first.
He was behind you again, "Enough."
His voice was as cold as a windy gust, making everyone flinch.
"Training's over," he snapped. "If you idiots still have the energy to flap your gums, I'll gladly burn the rest of it out of you."
"Y-yes, sir!" the slayers chorused, scrambling to scatter like terrified pigeons.
But not fast enough apparently, because the bath house guy (that poor, misguided soul) made the fatal mistake of glancing back at you to rake his eyes over your figure as he stepped away.
And Sanemi fucking saw it.
His jaw flexed once, hard enough that you could see the vein in his temple pulse. His eyes narrowed to a slit, following the guy's retreat until he was out of sight.
"That was... a lot," you laughed, rubbing the bruises on your skin.
Sanemi didn't laugh, instead, he turned his head towards you slowly, like he was still trying to unclench every muscle in his neck.
"Didn't know I was running a damn matchmaking service," he muttered.
"Huh?"
"All morning," he snapped, "I had guys tripping over themselves to talk to you. Or touch you. Or 'help you stretch'."
His voice pitched higher as two fingers on both hands crunched to fake quote his words. "'You looked really good yesterday.' Let's bathe together'." He clicked his tongue. "Idiots..."
You hid your smile behind the rim of your gourd. "They were just being friendly."
He stared at you, for a long moment too.
"You really don't see it, do you?"
You tilted your head. "See what?"
Sanemi closed his eyes with a deep sigh, needing that moment to himself to get through the next thirty seconds.
"That they were trying to court you."
"...Oh."
His eyes snapped open, "'Oh?' Seriously? That's all you've got?"
You shrugged with a laugh, setting your water down. "Well, I wasn't interested, so-"
"That's not the point, Y/N," he growled, turning away, hands shoved deep in his pockets. You could practically see the steam radiating off his body. "They shouldn't even be looking at you like that."
You stepped closer to him, hands behind your back. "And why's that?"
"You know why."
Your heart skipped a beat, "No... I don't believe that I do."
Sanemi scoffed, turning around to see your gleaming expression.
Of course you were enjoying this.
"Don't start with me."
You blinked innocently, swaying a bit. "Start what?"
"That." He pointed at your face, "That stupid little smile you get when you think it's cute to piss me off."
You raised a brow. "I'm not doing anything."
"You're breathing," he shot back instantly, "Apparently that's enough to make half the corps try to court you."
You rolled your lips together tight, trying your hardest not to laugh.
You failed miserably, and the tiny puff of air that escaped was all it took.
Sanemi's head snapped toward you like you'd just fired a damn cannon.
"There it is," he barked, throwing a hand up. "See? That! You're doing it on purpose."
"I'm really not," you grinned.
A vein popped at his temple. "You find this funny?"
"A bit."
"Well, it's not." He huffed, crossing his arms as he glared harshly at the scattered bokken over the ground.
He eventually turned his gaze back to you, "You're spoken for." He muttered quietly, a blush tinting his cheeks.
Your brows rose. "By who?"
His nostrils flared. "Y/N."
Sanemi took a second to collect himself, "By me, obviously," he snapped, his words tumbling out harsher than he meant. "Who the hell else?"
You bit the inside of your cheek to keep from smiling again. "Ohhh. Right... That."
"That?" He seethed, eyes squinting at you, like he was daring you to double down on your words.
"Yes," you nodded, suddenly liking the way the ground looked at that moment.
"And, what is that, hah?" He stepped closer, invading your space to the point where his feet touched yours. "Tell me, hm?" he pressed on, nudging your chin up to look at him.
Your throat closed up as his touch tingled your skin.
Your eyes snapped up to his, and that's when whatever sly comment you were going to say died on your tongue.
The way he looked was sinful as his mouth tugged into the slightest smirk.
"Oh?" he murmured, tilting your chin a little higher. "Where'd all that smart talk go?"
"I-I wasn't-" you stammered.
He huffed a laugh through his nose, "Please. You know what you were doing."
Heat crept up your neck. "No, I was just-"
"Just what?" he pressed, leaning in until your noses almost brushed. "Playing dumb? Or finally realizing what you started?"
"Didn't start anything," you grumbled, your eyes not leaving his gaze. You couldn't, it was just too addictive.
"Sure you did." His thumb skimmed your jaw, "Was real bold a minute ago, poking at me like that."
You tried to look away, but his fingers followed, guiding your chin back.
"But now?" He hummed, "Look at you."
"Sanemi-"
"Can't even look me in the eyes anymore?" He grinned, reveling in the way you looked so flustered. "Cute."
He leaned in even closer, his deep voice tickling your ears.
"Wanna know what they shouldn't be looking at you like that?" He whispered, lips nearly brushing your cheek as his hands steadied your hips.
You froze, mouth parting to answer, but he didn't give you time.
"Because you get like this too damn easy," he muttered, "and that's mine to see, not theirs."
His fingers flexed at your hips, dragging you flush against him with his grip tightening as he searched your eyes. "Sane-"
He dipped his head and caught your lips with his with no warning.
Your hands instantly curled into his haori, gripping tight as his lips moved in tandem with yours, kissing you so deeply that it made your head spin.
He pulled back just enough to breathe the same air you were gasping for, his forehead resting against yours. "See?" he murmured, his hand moving to cup your cheek. "S'what they'll never get to look at."
Your pulse hammered so loud you were certain he could hear it. "You should head back n'wash up before those idiots come looking for you."
You frowned, your softened gaze turning sharp. "Oh... you don't want me to stay?"
Sanemi blinked once... twice, three times... he couldn't believe you 'd managed to flip the entire situation on him in five seconds flat.
"Tch," he clicked his tongue, his eyes darting briefly away before snapping right back to you. "Don't start this shit again."
"What? M'just asking..." you said softly, eyes wide in that dangerously innocent way that always messed with him. "You kissed me and then immediately tried to kick me out."
"Didn't say that," he muttered, "I said if you don't go now, those guys will come sniffing around again."
"Let them."
He groaned, letting his head fall back as his hands on you tightened. "I'd rather not have the whole corps watch me ravage you."
Your brows perked, and your lips curled as you leaned in closer, letting your breath tickle his jaw. "Oh? So should I take up the offer for the bathhouse?"
Sanemi's entire body went still.
His grip on you turned devastating, and his eyes snapped down to yours with that sharp-cut gaze. "Don't," he growled.
"Don't... what?" You feigned innocence.
"Don't say shit like that," he muttered, "You're not goin' anywhere."
You hummed, fingers tracing the front of his uniform just to watch his breath stutter. "Mm. But you said that I should head back and wash up, right?"
"That's not what I meant, and you know it."
You tilted your head. "So you do want me to stay?"
Sanemi let out a slow exhale, in disbelief that it was already back to this again. You were equal parts of problem and addiction.
"Yeah," he muttered finally. His hands slid from your hips to your lower back, pulling you in until your toes barely touched the floor. "Want ya to stay."
Your breath caught, but you didn't let him see how much it affected you. You only blinked up at him, lashes fluttering in the way you knew was his weakness.
"Well..." you whispered, fingers hooking into his haori, "...you could've just said that."
Sanemi scoffed, "If you stopped twistin' my words every ten seconds, maybe I would."
You giggled, "But it's fun watching you get all worked up."
His eyes darkened. "Oh, I'm worked up, alright," his voice dropped along with his head to your ear. "And you're real damn close to finding out just how much."
Heat pooled in your stomach as you bit your lip. "Teach me then, Mr. Shinazugawa."
His breath hitched, eyes gleaming with unrestrained lust. He leaned in, lips brushing your cheek, voice low enough to shiver straight down your spine.
"Get inside," he murmured. "Your training isn't over."
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