dollie

you've been watching him all day, and it's driving you mad.

jake doesn't even realize what he's doing to you, how could he? he's just going about his business, checking on the ikran, speaking with the other warriors, lifting supplies with those thick, powerful arms that have only gotten better with age. but you notice everything. every movement, every flex of muscle beneath blue skin, every shift of his body that makes your heart race and your thighs clench together.

the heat coursing through your veins isn't helping. it never does. but this time it's worse, so much worse, because you can't stop fixating on him. on your mate. on jake.

you've been together for years now. you've built a life together, raised children, weathered storms both literal and metaphorical. you know every inch of him, have mapped his body with your hands and mouth countless times. but somehow, watching him now, you feel like you're seeing him for the first time all over again. or maybe you're just finally allowing yourself to fully appreciate what time has done to him.

because jake sully has aged like fine wine, and eywa help you, you want to taste every drop.

he's not the lean, wiry marine who first stumbled into your world anymore. the years have been kind to him, filling him out in all the right ways. there's a softness to him now that wasn't there before, a slight thickness around his middle that makes your mouth water every time you catch sight of it. that little bit of pudge that gathers at his belly, especially when he sits or bends. it's not much, just enough to grab onto, enough to prove that he's been well-fed and well-loved, that he's lived a good life here among the people.

among you.

your fingers itch to touch him there, to slide your hands under his worn leather and feel the warmth of his skin, the give of soft flesh over hard muscle. you want to press your face against that belly, feel it against your cheek, your lips, your tongue. you want to bite it gently and hear him gasp.

but it's not just his stomach. eywa, it's everything.

his arms have only gotten thicker with time, corded with muscle from years of hunting, fighting, flying. you watch him now as he lifts a heavy basket of fruit, biceps bulging, forearms flexing, and you have to bite your lip to keep from making a sound. you remember what those arms feel like wrapped around you, how small they make you feel, how safe. how they can pin you down or lift you up with equal ease.

and his back, that broad, strong back that you've clung to so many times, nails digging into blue skin as he moves inside you. you can see it now as he turns away, muscles shifting beneath his skin, tapering down to his narrow waist before flaring out again at his hips. you want to run your tongue along his spine, feel him shiver beneath your touch.

his thighs are what really get you, though. thick and powerful, built from years of riding ikran and running through the forest. you've felt them beneath you before, felt the hard muscle and the way they flex when he moves. but right now, with heat burning through your blood and making everything hypersensitive, all you can think about is climbing into his lap and grinding yourself against one of those perfect thighs until you fall apart.

you shift where you're sitting, trying to find relief from the ache building between your legs. it doesn't help. nothing helps except him, and he's still busy, still oblivious to the way you're practically vibrating with need.

the size difference has always done something to you. jake is big, bigger than most na'vi men in your clan, all broad shoulders and long limbs and solid mass. and you, while not small by any means, still feel deliciously tiny next to him. he can cage you in with his body, cover you completely, make you disappear beneath him. and eywa, you want that right now. you want to feel small and safe and completely overwhelmed by him.

you watch as he laughs at something one of the other warriors says, head thrown back, hand resting on his belly. that belly. your eyes track the movement of his hand, imagining it's your hand instead, imagining sliding it lower, lower..

"ma'yawne?" his voice cuts through your thoughts, and you realise he's looking at you now, head tilted slightly in concern. "you okay? you look flushed."

flushed. that's one word for it.

you stand on shaky legs, very aware of the growing slickness between your thighs, the way your body is screaming at you to go to him, to touch him, to take what you need.

"i'm fine," you manage, but your voice comes out rougher than intended, thick with want. "just.. can we go home? please?"

jake's eyes sharpen, and you see the moment understanding dawns. his nostrils flare slightly, he can smell it on you, the heat, the arousal. his pupils dilate, and suddenly he's moving toward you with purpose, closing the distance between you in a few long strides.

"how long?" he asks quietly, voice dropping an octave.

"all day," you admit, and you don't care that you sound desperate. you are desperate. "i've been watching you all day and i need.. jake, i need-"

his hand comes up to cup your face, thumb brushing over your cheekbone, and even that simple touch makes you want to moan. "i've got you," he murmurs, and the promise in his voice makes your knees weak. "let's get you home, baby. gonna take care of you."

the walk back to your home feels like it takes forever, even though jake keeps you close, one arm wrapped around your waist. you can feel the heat of him through your garments, can feel the solid mass of his body against your side, and it's both a comfort and a torture.

by the time you reach your home, blessedly empty, the kids off with their friends, you're practically crawling out of your skin with need. jake barely gets the entrance flap closed before you're on him, hands sliding up his chest, fingers digging into the soft flesh at his sides.

"easy," he chuckles, but there's a strain in his voice that tells you he's just as affected as you are. "what do you need, sweetheart? tell me what you need."

everything. you need everything. but right now, with your hands on his body and his scent filling your lungs, you know exactly where to start.

"you," you breathe, sliding your hands down to his belly, finally, finally touching the soft warmth you've been craving all day. "i need you. need to feel you. need-" your hands move lower, and he sucks in a sharp breath. "need to touch you everywhere."

"please," you whimper, hands still exploring the warm expanse of his torso, feeling the solid strength beneath the softness. "jake, please, i need-"

"i know what you need," he murmurs, catching your wrists gently and pulling your hands away from his body. you make a sound of protest, but he just smirks at you, that infuriating, knowing smirk that makes your stomach flip. "but you're gonna have to be patient, baby. gonna take my time with you."

"i can't," you gasp, trying to pull your hands free, desperate to touch him again. "i've been patient all day, i can't-"

"yes, you can." his voice is firm now, commanding, and it sends a shiver down your spine. he guides your hands above your head, holding both wrists in one large hand while the other trails down your arm, your shoulder, your side. "you're gonna be good for me, aren't you? gonna let me take care of you the way you need?"

you nod frantically, beyond words now, beyond anything except the burning need coursing through your veins. the heat has you completely in its grip, and jake is the only thing that can satisfy it.

"that's my girl," he praises, and the words make you melt. he releases your wrists but gives you a warning look. "hands stay up unless i tell you otherwise. understand?"

"yes," you breathe, keeping your arms raised even though every instinct is screaming at you to touch him, to pull him closer, to take what you need.

jake's hands go to your weaved top, slowly untying the straps, and you want to scream at him to hurry. but you don't. you stay still, trembling, as he undresses you with maddening patience. his knuckles brush against your skin as he works, and each touch feels like fire.

"been watching me all day, huh?" he asks conversationally, like he's not currently driving you up the wall. "what were you thinking about, sweetheart? what got you so worked up?"

"you," you manage, voice shaking. "just.. you. watching you move, watching your body, i couldn't stop thinking about-" you cut yourself off with a whimper as he finally pulls your top free, exposing your breasts to the cool air. your nipples are already hard, aching for his touch.

"thinking about what?" he prompts, hands hovering just inches from where you need them. "use your words, baby."

"your hands," you gasp out. "your arms, your thighs, i wanted.. i needed to touch you, to feel you, to-"

he finally touches you, palms cupping your breasts, thumbs brushing over your sensitive nipples, and you nearly sob with relief. but it's not enough. it's nowhere near enough.

"more," you plead, arching into his touch. "please, jake, more.."

"greedy little thing," he murmurs, but there's affection in his voice, warmth beneath the teasing. his hands slide down your sides, hooking into your loincloth and pulling it free. you're completely bare before him now, exposed and vulnerable and so desperate you could cry.

jake takes a step back, eyes raking over your body with obvious appreciation, and you resist the urge to cover yourself. you want him to look. you want him to see what he does to you.

"eywa, you're beautiful," he says, voice rough with desire. "and you're dripping for me already, aren't you? so wet, so ready."

you nod, past the point of embarrassment. you are wet, slick coating your inner thighs, and you need him to do something about it.

"what do you want?" he asks, starting to remove his own clothing. you watch hungrily as he reveals more skin, more of that body you've been craving all day. "tell me exactly what you want, and maybe i'll give it to you."

"i want to touch you," you say immediately. "want to feel you, want.." you hesitate, but the heat burning through you strips away any remaining inhibition. "..want to ride your thigh. please. i've been thinking about it all day, watching you, wanting to feel those thick thighs under me-"

"fuck," jake breathes, and you can see the effect your words have on him. his cock is already hard, pressing against his loincloth, and knowing you did that to him makes you feel powerful despite your desperate state. "yeah, baby. yeah, you can do that. come here."

he sits down on the woven mat, legs spread, and pats his thigh in invitation. you don't need to be told twice. you practically throw yourself at him, straddling his thigh, and the first contact of your slick heat against his skin makes you both groan.

"that's it," he encourages, hands coming to rest on your hips. "go ahead, sweetheart. take what you need."

you start to move immediately, grinding down against the hard muscle of his thigh, and the friction is perfect, exactly what you've been craving. his skin is warm and solid beneath you, and you can feel his muscles flex as he shifts slightly, adjusting the angle.

"oh god," you whimper, hands finally coming down to clutch at his shoulders. you need the anchor, need something to hold onto as you rock against him. "jake, feels so good.."

"look at you," he murmurs, one hand sliding up your back while the other stays on your hip, guiding your movements. "so desperate, so needy. been thinking about this all day? thinking about grinding that pretty pussy on my thigh?"

"yes," you gasp, moving faster now, chasing the pleasure building in your core. "yes, wanted it so bad, wanted you."

"you've got me," he says, flexing his thigh beneath you, and the added pressure makes you cry out. "that's it, baby. use me. make yourself feel good."

you bury your face in his neck, breathing in his scent. sweat and forest and something uniquely jake as you ride his thigh with abandon. his hands are everywhere, stroking your back, squeezing your hips, sliding up to cup your breasts. every touch sends sparks of pleasure through you, adding to the building pressure between your legs.

"so small," he murmurs against your ear, and you can hear the smile in his voice. "fit so perfectly right here in my lap. love how tiny you feel against me, how i can just.." he demonstrates by wrapping one arm completely around your waist, holding you tight against him, controlling your movements. ".. hold you like this. you're mine, aren't you? all mine."

"yours," you agree breathlessly, because it's true. you've always been his, from the moment you first came together, and you'll be his until your last breath. "always yours, jake, please-"

"please what?" he asks, slowing your movements with his hand on your hip. you whine in protest, trying to speed up again, but he holds you firm. "what do you need, sweetheart? you gotta tell me."

"need more," you plead, looking up at him with what you know must be desperation written all over your face. "need to feel more of you, need-"

you reach down between your bodies, hand sliding over the soft skin of his belly, and he sucks in a breath. you love this part of him, love the proof that he's lived well, been cared for.

your hand continues down, wrapping around his hard cock, and he groans.

"want this," you whisper. "want you inside me, want to feel you-"

"not yet," he says, catching your hand and pulling it away. you make a sound of frustration, but he just chuckles. "you're gonna come on my thigh first. then maybe, if you're good, i'll give you my cock."

"jake.."

"that's the deal, baby. take it or leave it."

you know he's not serious about the 'leave it' part, he'd never actually deny you, not when you're in heat, not when you need him this badly. but the game is part of it, the push and pull, the way he makes you work for it even though you both know how it'll end.

"fine," you gasp, resuming your movements on his thigh. "but you have to.. you have to help me, please."

"that's better," he praises, and both hands come to your hips now, gripping tight, helping you grind down harder. "love it when you ask nicely. love hearing you beg for me."

the pressure is building again, faster now with his help, with the way he's flexing his thigh and moving you exactly how you need. you can feel yourself getting closer, that familiar tightening in your core, and you chase it desperately.

"that's it," jake encourages, voice low and rough. "can feel how wet you are, baby. making such a mess on my thigh. you gonna come for me? gonna come all over me like a good girl?"

"yes," you sob, so close now, right on the edge. "yes, gonna.. jake, i'm-"

"come on, sweetheart. let go. i've got you."

his words push you over the edge, and you come with a cry, pleasure washing over you in waves. your whole body shakes with it, and jake holds you through it, murmuring praise and encouragement as you ride out your orgasm on his thigh.

but it's not enough. the heat is still there, still burning through you, demanding more. one orgasm barely takes the edge off.

"more," you whimper as soon as you can speak again. "jake, please, i need more."

"i know, baby, i know," he soothes, lifting you easily off his thigh. you can see the evidence of your arousal glistening on his skin, and something about that makes you even more desperate. "gonna give you everything you need. but first.." he shifts, lying back on the mat, pulling you with him. ".. want you to ride me. want to watch you take your pleasure."

you straddle his hips immediately, reaching down to position him at your entrance, but he catches your hand again.

"not there yet," he says, and you could cry from frustration. "want you to ride right here first." he guides your hips forward, positioning you over his lower belly, and you understand what he wants.

the idea sends a fresh wave of heat through you. you've done this before, but not often, and the thought of it now, of grinding yourself against the soft warmth of his stomach, of feeling that slight give beneath you, makes you dizzy with want.

"okay," you breathe, settling yourself over him. the first slide of your slick heat against his belly makes you both groan. it's different from his thigh. softer, warmer, and you can feel the way his muscles tense beneath the layer of flesh.

"fuck, that's hot," jake mutters, hands on your hips again, watching as you start to move. "love feeling you like this, so wet and desperate. you gonna make yourself come on my belly, baby? gonna use me however you need?"

"yes," you gasp, finding a rhythm, grinding down against him. your clit drags against his skin with each movement, sending jolts of pleasure through you. "feels good, feels so good.."

"you look so good like this," he says, one hand sliding up to cup your breast, thumb brushing over your nipple. "so beautiful, taking what you need. love watching you fall apart for me."

you're already close again, the heat making you hypersensitive, making every touch feel like too much and not enough all at once. you brace your hands on his chest, using the leverage to move faster, harder, chasing that peak again.

"jake," you whimper, and you can hear how wrecked you sound.

"jake, please, i need-"

"i know what you need," he says, one hand sliding up to cup your breast, thumb brushing over your nipple. "love feeling you like this, you gonna come on my belly, baby?"

"yes," you gasp, finding a rhythm, grinding down against him. your clit drags against his skin with each movement, sending jolts of pleasure through you. the softness beneath you is intoxicating, the way his stomach gives just slightly under your weight, the warmth of his skin against your slick heat.

you brace your hands on his chest for leverage, fingers splaying across the broad expanse of muscle and soft flesh. you can feel his heart beating beneath your palms, steady and strong, and it grounds you even as the heat threatens to consume you completely.

"that's it," jake encourages, his voice rough with arousal. "look at you, so fucking beautiful like this. love watching you take what you need from me."

you rock your hips faster, chasing the friction, and you're so focused on the sensation against your clit, on the building pressure in your core, that you don't notice at first. don't notice how with each backward grind of your hips, your ass slides back, pressing against something hard and hot.

jake notices, though. you can tell by the way his breath hitches, the way his fingers dig a little harder into your hips.

"fuck, baby," he groans, and there's something different in his voice now, something strained. "keep moving just like that. don't stop."

you obey without thinking, too lost in your own pleasure to question it. you grind forward, your pussy sliding against the soft warmth of his belly, then back, and.. oh. oh, that's his cock, hard and thick, pressing against the curve of your ass as you move.

the realisation sends a fresh wave of arousal through you, makes you even wetter, and you can feel your slickness coating his stomach, making the slide easier, smoother. but you don't change your rhythm, don't adjust your position. it feels too good like this, the dual sensation of your clit rubbing against his belly and your ass inadvertently grinding back against his length.

"you feel so good," you whimper, moving faster now, desperate for release. "feels so good, jake, i'm so close.."

"yeah?" he asks, and his voice is tight, controlled, but you can hear the strain in it. "gonna come for me, sweetheart? gonna make a mess all over my stomach?"

"yes," you sob, because you are, you're so close you can taste it. your thighs are trembling with the effort of your movements, your whole body wound tight with tension. "yes, gonna come, gonna-"

each grind forward drags your swollen clit against his skin, and each grind back presses your ass against his cock, creating friction that has him groaning beneath you. you're leaving a trail of wetness on his stomach, can feel it spreading across his skin, and something about that, about marking him, claiming him, makes you even more desperate.

"look at you," jake breathes, one hand sliding up your side, your ribs, cupping your breast and squeezing. "so fucking perfect. you're making me so hard, baby. can you feel it? can you feel what you do to me?"

you can. with every backward rock of your hips, you can feel his cock pressing against you, hot and hard and leaking. the friction must feel good for him too, because his hips are starting to move now, subtle little thrusts up to meet your grinding.

"jake," you gasp, and you're so close now, right on the edge. your movements become more frantic, less coordinated, just desperate grinding as you chase your release. forward against his belly, back against his cock, forward, back, the rhythm building and building until..

"that's it, baby," jake groans, and you can hear how wrecked he sounds now too. "come for me. wanna feel you come, wanna.. fuck-"

you come with a cry, your whole body seizing up as pleasure crashes over you. your hips jerk erratically, grinding hard against his stomach, and your ass presses back firmly against his cock as your body convulses with the force of your orgasm.

and that's what does it for him.

"oh fuck," jake gasps, his hips bucking up involuntarily. "fuck, baby, i'm- i’m gonna-"

you feel it when he comes, feel the hot spurt of his release against your lower back, your ass, as he groans long and low beneath you. his hands grip your hips bruisingly tight, holding you against him as he rides out his orgasm, his cock pulsing against your skin.

"holy shit," he breathes once he can speak again, chest heaving beneath your hands. "holy shit, baby. you made me come just from that. just from grinding that perfect ass against me."

you're still trembling, aftershocks of pleasure rolling through you, and you can barely process his words. but the satisfaction in his voice, the awe, makes you feel powerful despite how wrecked you are.

"didn't even touch my cock," he continues, one hand sliding up your back, soothing. "just the friction of you moving on me, feeling you come- fuck, that was so hot. you're so hot, you know that?"

you manage a weak smile, slumping forward to rest your forehead against his chest. you can feel his release cooling on your skin, sticky and warm, and you should probably feel embarrassed but you don't. you just feel satisfied, sated, at least for the moment.

"didn't mean to," you mumble against his skin.

"didn't mean to what?" he asks, fingers carding through your hair. "make me come in my pants like a teenager? because you definitely did, sweetheart. made me lose control just from feeling you move on me."

"didn't realise," you admit, pressing a kiss to his chest. "was just.. it felt so good, couldn't think."

"i know, baby," he soothes, wrapping his arms around you and holding you close. "that's what the heat does. makes you desperate, makes you need. and i love it. love watching you take your pleasure, love feeling you use my body however you need."

you hum contentedly, nuzzling into his warmth. your body feels heavy, languid, the heat temporarily satisfied by your orgasm and the feeling of jake's release marking your skin.

"we're both a mess now," jake observes with a chuckle. "you're covered in your own slick and my cum, and my stomach is- " he reaches down between your bodies, fingers sliding through the wetness you left on his belly. " -absolutely soaked. you really did a number on me, sweetheart."

"sorry," you murmur, though you don't really mean it.

"don't be," he says firmly, bringing his wet fingers up to his mouth and sucking them clean. the sight makes you clench, makes heat flicker in your belly again even though you just came. "love it. making me come just from grinding on me? that's the hottest thing that's happened in a while."

you lift your head to look at him, and his eyes are dark with satisfaction and lingering arousal. he looks thoroughly debauched, hair mussed, skin flushed and damp with sweat, and you did that to him. you made him lose control.

"you liked it?" you ask, needing the confirmation.

"baby, i loved it," he assures you, cupping your face and pulling you down for a deep kiss. "loved every second of it. loved watching you fall apart on top of me, loved feeling you move, loved that you were so desperate you didn't even realise what you were doing to me. and then when you came- " he groans at the memory. " -the way you pressed back against me, the way your whole body tensed up.. i didn't stand a chance."

his words make you feel warm all over, make you want to do it again, make him lose control again. but your body is heavy with satisfaction, and you know the heat will return soon enough. there will be plenty of opportunities to drive him crazy.

"come on," jake says after a moment, gently shifting you off of him. "let's actually get cleaned up this time before round two hits."

you let him guide you up, let him wipe you both down with a soft cloth, let him fuss over you the way he always does after. and when he pulls you back down to the mat, tucking you against his side, you feel safe and loved and completely satisfied.

at least until the heat comes back.

but that's a problem for later.

except it's not later. it's barely twenty minutes before you feel it building again, that familiar ache low in your belly, the hypersensitivity of your skin, the way everything feels too hot and too tight and not enough all at once.

"jake," you whimper, pressing closer to him, and he must hear something in your voice because his hand stills where it's been stroking lazy patterns on your back.

"already?" he asks, but there's no judgment in his tone, just understanding. "the heat's back?"

"yes," you breathe, and you can already feel yourself getting wet again, slick gathering between your thighs. "need you. need you so bad, please-"

"shh, i've got you," he soothes, rolling you onto your back and settling between your legs. and oh, he's already hard again, his cock thick and heavy against your inner thigh. "gonna take care of you, baby. gonna give you exactly what you need."

"please," you beg, reaching for him, trying to pull him closer. "please, jake, need you inside me, need to feel you-"

"i know," he says, catching your wrists and pinning them gently above your head with one large hand. "but we're gonna take our time with this one, okay? gonna make it good for you."

"no," you whine, trying to arch up against him. "no, need it now, please, i can't.."

"you can," he says firmly, using his free hand to spread your legs wider, settling more fully between them. "and you will. because i'm in charge right now, sweetheart, and i say we're taking our time."

the authority in his voice makes you shiver, makes you even wetter, and you know he can feel it when he slides two fingers through your folds, gathering your slickness.

"fuck, you're soaked already," he groans, circling your clit with his thumb. "this all for me, baby? your body getting ready to take my cock?"

"yes," you gasp, hips bucking into his touch. "yes, all for you."

"so needy," he murmurs, sliding those two fingers inside you, and even that feels good, feels like relief, but it's not enough. "so desperate. love feeling you like this, love knowing how much you want me."

"want you so much," you whimper, clenching around his fingers. "need your cock, please, jake."

"you're gonna take what i give you," he says, pumping his fingers slowly, deliberately, curling them to hit that spot inside you that makes you see stars. "and you're gonna be grateful for it, aren't you?"

"yes," you sob, because you will, you'll take anything he gives you and beg for more. "yes, thank you, thank you."

he works you open with his fingers, adding a third, stretching you, and it burns a little but it feels so good, feels like what you need. you're so wet that his fingers slide easily, the obscene sound of it filling the quiet of your home.

"that's it," he encourages, thumb still working your clit. "gotta make sure you're ready for me, baby. don't wanna hurt you, even if you're begging for it."

"won't hurt," you insist, though you know that's not entirely true. he's big, thick and long, and even after all these years, after all the times you've taken him, there's always that initial stretch, that moment of almost-too-much. "please, i'm ready, i can take it."

"we'll see," he says, pulling his fingers out and bringing them to his mouth, sucking them clean. the sight makes you moan, makes you clench around nothing. "mm, you taste so good. could eat you out for hours, make you come on my tongue over and over-"

"no," you whine, shaking your head frantically. "no, need your cock.."

"alright, alright," he relents, releasing your wrists so he can grip your hips instead. "since you're begging so pretty for me."

he lines himself up, the thick head of his cock pressing against your entrance, and just that is enough to make you gasp. he's so big, so hot against your sensitive flesh, and you need him inside you right now.

"please," you whimper one more time, and then he's pushing in.

the stretch is immediate and intense, your body struggling to accommodate his size even though you're soaking wet and desperate for it. he goes slow, so slow, feeding his cock into you inch by inch, and you can feel every ridge, every vein, the way your walls have to stretch and give to take him.

"fuck," jake groans, and his voice is strained, controlled. "fuck, baby, you're so tight. no matter how many times i fuck you."

"big," you gasp, because he is, he's so big and you're so full and he's not even all the way in yet. "you're so big, jake, i-"

"you can take it," he says, pushing in deeper, and you feel the way your body yields to him, opens for him. "you always take it so good, don't you? take every inch of my cock like you were made for it."

"was made for it," you agree breathlessly, wrapping your legs around his waist, trying to pull him deeper. "made for you, made to take you-"

"that's right," he says, and with one more thrust, he's fully seated inside you, his hips flush against yours. "all of me, baby. you've got all of me."

you feel impossibly full, stretched to your limit, and it's perfect. he's so deep you can feel him everywhere, pressing against spots inside you that make your toes curl. and the weight of him on top of you, the way he covers your smaller body completely, makes you feel safe and claimed and exactly where you're supposed to be.

"please move," you beg, because he's holding still and you need friction, need movement, need him to fuck you. "please, jake, need you to.."

"need me to what?" he asks, pulling out slowly until just the tip remains inside you. "need me to fuck you? need me to ruin this pussy until you can't think straight?"

"yes," you sob, trying to push back onto him. "yes, please."

he slams back in, hard and deep, and you cry out at the sensation. it's almost too much, the way he fills you completely, the way the force of his thrust pushes you up the mat.

"like that?" he asks, doing it again, setting a hard, deep rhythm that has you gasping with each thrust. "this what you need, baby? need me to fuck you hard?"

"yes," you moan, clinging to his broad shoulders, feeling the flex of his muscles as he moves. "yes, just like that, don't stop, please don't stop."

"not gonna stop," he promises, one hand gripping your hip hard enough to bruise while the other braces beside your head. "gonna fuck you until you can't remember your own name, until all you know is how good my cock feels inside you."

he's true to his word, fucking into you with deep, powerful strokes that have you moaning with each one. the sound of skin slapping against skin fills the air, mixed with your desperate whimpers and his low groans. you're so wet that each thrust is slick and easy despite his size, your body welcoming him, pulling him deeper.

"look at you," jake says, and there's awe in his voice beneath the desire. "look at how well you take me. your little pussy stretching around my cock, taking every inch. you love this, don't you? love being full of me."

"love it," you gasp, because you do, you love everything about this. the stretch, the fullness, the way he makes you feel small and protected and thoroughly claimed. "love your cock, love how you fill me, love.. oh eywa.."

he's angled his hips differently, hitting that perfect spot inside you with each thrust, and suddenly you're right on the edge, pleasure building impossibly fast.

"gonna come already?" he asks, and you can hear the smirk in his voice. "so sensitive, baby. the heat makes you so desperate, doesn't it? makes you need to come over and over."

"yes," you whimper, nails digging into his shoulders. "yes, gonna come, please let me come.."

"come for me," he commands, reaching between your bodies to rub your clit. "come on my cock, baby. wanna feel you squeeze me."

you come with a cry, your whole body tensing as pleasure crashes through you. your pussy clenches rhythmically around his cock, trying to pull him deeper, and you can feel how wet you are, slick coating his length and dripping down your thighs.

"that's it," jake groans, fucking you through it, not slowing down. "that's my good girl. feel so good when you come, so tight around me."

but he doesn't stop, doesn't give you time to recover. he keeps fucking you, hard and deep, and the stimulation is almost too much on your oversensitive flesh but also exactly what you need.

"too much," you whimper, even as your hips rise to meet his thrusts. "jake, it's too much, i can't-"

"you can," he says firmly, shifting his weight so he can grip both your hips, holding you in place as he fucks into you. "you're gonna take it, baby. gonna take everything i give you."

and you do. you take each hard thrust, each drag of his cock against your sensitive walls, the way he fills you so completely you can barely breathe. your second orgasm builds faster than the first, the heat driving your body to seek more pleasure, more release.

"so perfect," jake murmurs, and his rhythm is getting less controlled now, more erratic. "so fucking perfect for me. love this pussy, love how wet you get, love how desperate you are for my cock."

"need it," you gasp, meeting his thrusts as best you can. "need you, need this."

"i know what you need," he says, and suddenly he's pulling out, flipping you over onto your hands and knees before you can protest. "need me to fuck you deeper, don't you? need to feel me in your stomach."

"yes," you moan, arching your back and presenting yourself to him. from this angle you feel even smaller, more vulnerable, and when he pushes back inside you it's somehow even deeper than before.

"fuck," he groans, gripping your hips and pulling you back onto his cock. "look at you, so small beneath me. love seeing you like this, love watching my cock disappear inside you."

the new angle has him hitting different spots, deeper spots, and you can feel him everywhere. each thrust pushes you forward, and you have to brace yourself against the mat to keep from collapsing.

"so deep," you whimper, and you can feel tears gathering in your eyes from how good it feels, how overwhelming. "you're so deep, jake, i can feel you-"

"i know, baby," he says, one hand sliding up your spine to press between your shoulder blades, pushing your chest down to the mat. the new angle makes him impossibly deeper, and you sob at the sensation. "taking me so good, letting me fuck you so deep. your body was made for this, wasn't it? made to take my cock."

"yes," you agree, because it feels true, feels like you were designed specifically to fit him. "made for you, only you."

he fucks you harder, faster, the sound of his hips slapping against your ass obscene in the quiet. you can feel his thighs flexing against the backs of yours, can feel the power in each thrust, and it makes you feel deliciously small and overwhelmed.

"gonna fill you up," jake groans, and you can hear that he's close, can feel it in the way his rhythm falters. "gonna come inside you, mark you from the inside out. you want that, baby? want me to fill this cunt with my cum?"

"please," you beg, clenching around him deliberately. "please, want it, want you to come inside me.."

"fuck," he gasps, and his grip on your hips tightens. "you're gonna make me.. gonna make me come, baby, you feel too good-"

"come for me," you plead, pushing back against him. "please, jake, want to feel you come."

he comes with a groan, hips stuttering as he buries himself as deep as possible. you can feel his cock pulsing inside you, feel the warmth of his release filling you, and it triggers your own orgasm. you come around him, milking his cock, your whole body shaking with the intensity of it.

"holy shit," jake breathes, collapsing forward over your back, careful not to crush you with his full weight. "holy shit, baby. you're incredible. absolutely incredible."

you can't respond, can barely think, just focus on breathing and the feeling of him still inside you, still hard despite having just come. the heat is satisfied for now, your body languid and heavy, but you can already feel it lurking at the edges, ready to return.

jake pulls out slowly, and you whimper at the loss, at the feeling of his cum starting to leak out of you. but then he's gathering you up, rolling you over and pulling you against his chest, pressing kisses to your forehead, your cheeks, your lips.

"did so good," he murmurs between kisses. "took me so well, baby. so perfect for me."

"love you," you mumble against his skin, nuzzling into his warmth.

"love you too," he says, one hand stroking through your hair while the other rubs soothing circles on your back. "so much, sweetheart. gonna take care of you all through this heat, gonna give you everything you need."

you hum contentedly, letting yourself drift in the afterglow. but even as you relax against him, you can feel it, that ember of need still glowing in your belly, ready to flare back to life. the heat isn't done with you yet, not by a long shot.

but for now, wrapped in jake's arms, thoroughly fucked and satisfied, you let yourself rest. there will be time for more later. there always is.

༻༺

this is is basically a jake sully belly and thigh appreciation post, he’s gotten so much hotter as the movies progress i swearrr.

as always, thank you so much for giving this a read and i hope you liked it!! reblogs, comments and likes are always appreciated as well but not necessary :)

having you as his mentor while mastering skimwing riding does nothing to dull his hunger for you. if anything, the night meetings have doubled, grown more reckless. he manhandles you into positions you didn’t even know existed, murmuring praise into your ear until your legs tremble. you’ve learned his favorite is having you ride him, watching his heavy shaft throb as you sink down whining, “o-oh so big, daddy,” tears pricking your eyes from the stretch alone.

at first, he lets you work for it. “c’mon, baby. biiig stretch,” he drawls lazily, arms folded behind his head while his eyes glint with desire. his toes curl in the sand when you finally take him all, plush ass meeting his thighs with a wet, obscene sound. “fuck,” he breathes, voice roughening. “such a good girl.”

you feel him everywhere, as if your bodies have fused into something singular. palms braced on his broad shoulders, you begin to drag yourself up and down on his cock, slow at first, savoring the ache. you bite your lip as you lift yourself until only the flushed tip remains inside, then sink back down, head rolling back, a high-pitched “a-ah…” spilling from your mouth.

you pick up the pace on your own, chasing the rush and your slick squelching shamelessly with every downward grind. once. twice. five times more, at least. you wonder dimly why he’s still just watching, sitting back. his cock twitches hard inside you, the sensation making your walls clench reflexively as you both moan, voices tangling together, “d-daddy…” the fullness has you whining as need roils hot and dizzy in your belly.

“what is it, baby?” jake finally grips your waist, thumbs circling slow and deliberate, sending sparks through your veins. he watches your eyes fog over, watches drool slip from your parted lips as your mouth hangs open, oh, you are gone. “hm? tell daddy, sweetheart.”

all that comes out of you is garbled sound, needy babbling as your hands clutch his toned biceps. jake tuts softly, shaking his head. “nah. use your words. you’re a big girl, right? took all of me without help.”

you shake your head, a small, desperate motion he catches instantly. he knows you too well now. still, he pushes, voice teasing in a cruelly gentle manner, “what is it? you need daddy’s help?”

your pupils blow wide, heat flushing across your cheeks as you nod frantically. his hoarse laugh vibrates against you, “c’mon. use your words.”

“need your help, please,” you gasp, humiliation long forgotten, “h-help, daddy.”

“good girl,” he murmurs, kissing you slow and deep before guiding your hips, rolling you into his thrusts as he bucks up to meet you, creating a trail of ‘ah–ah, uh–’ whimper from you. “best pussy ever. y’know that? love—”

the word nearly slips free. love you, that’s what he wanted to say. but he quickly shuts himself by placing his lips on yours open-mouthedly. jake does not have any courage to say it out loud, no matter how much he wants to. so he just hopes the word transcends from his throat to yours non-verbally. 

he does not know the exact time he became emotionally attached to you. at first, he’d think it was only some physical desire–to chase some kind of heat-to-heat relief. maybe, no, definitely, it changed when you started asking him questions. 

yes, the night often ends with him cumming deep inside of you, making you feel so full and lolling your head lazily to his shoulders. your own slick trails down onto his thighs and the sand beneath it. but other nights are spent merely lying on the ground, your head draping over his chest and his arms circling your back to your hips. you ask him things no one ever does. about earth. about who he was: “what was your home like, jake? what were you like?”

when most people are interested in his stories–seeking deep conversation–they often ask about his conquest of toruk or one of his fights with the RDA. but never about his past. earth. marine. human. he guesses it was because of the na’vi disdain of most human-like things. which he understands, after every cruel act they have done to the na’vi. so upon hearing your curiosity of him, a part of him that he tries to hide shamefully, he was surprised. it evoked emotions he does not even know exist. 

jake would tell you about his childhood, his parents, his military service, and tommy. hearing you spell ‘detroit, michigan’, his hometown, made him let out a genuine laugh from his stomach. then he realizes how long it has been since he was this vulnerable in front of another being: how unintended conversations help him make peace with part of himself he has avoided. making him acknowledge the miserable feeling young jake has to bear every day after the doctors told him “sorry son, we… we can’t help you with your spine.” 

he does not know why he never talks to anybody about his pain, he just decided to bury them deep enough. but you, damn you, you get your hands dirty and dig up the soil, again and again until you found the root, “well, i-i think you are a hero, jake. even before you’re… this,” this, a na’vi. before toruk makto. before olo’ekytan. before fatherhood.

his reply to your words was a head-pat and a soft chuckle. but he never stops thinking about it–about you. fear crawls underneath his skin then. he cannot stop thinking about it even when he has you on you back, moaning out wantonly as he pushes himself to the hilt of your core. he slides himself slowly while his hand fondles your breasts, pinching and circling the nubs. his thrusts are too slow, making you breathlessly keen out, “.. mhm, faster, please…” while looking directly into his eyes.

he abruptly broke the intense eye contact and buries his head on your neck. jake hides his face because he is secretly afraid you’d see the little scars over his features. how each of it resembles his aging years and the kills he had taken. the blood on his hands. he hopes to never find you seeing him in the way he sees himself. his lips found their way onto your shoulders, nipping and kissing the area while speeding up the pace of his hips. the forbidden words almost went out from the tip of his tongue again. 

it has been a day since the night meeting. tonight, a festive is held to celebrate some couple’s unification as mates. your dance has ended and you went somewhere with the other dancers, not before shooting him a shy wave and mouthing him a ‘hi, jake.’ his cheeks burn as he ducks his head, smirking despite himself.

when he looks up, his glare drifts to your parents. a boy around your age has approached them and handed over a thing, which tonowari accepted with a big smile. decorated with flowers and shells, jake is sitting too far to make out the whole image. but jake knows what it is: a courting gift. everyone in the clan already knows about tsireya and lo’ak close proximity, unbeknownst to their personal perceptions. it must be for you, then. 

his chest tightens, his breath hitching as jealousy ignites hot and sharp. the boy is young, lean, almost as tall as him. perfect. jake’s jaw clenches as his thoughts turn dark and ugly. he has seen the boy somewhere, probably one of the training warriors. his darkened eyes trail over to where you had disappeared before. 

after he sees ronal smiling slightly at the boy, he suddenly stands up and cast himself away from the feasting surroundings. he could feel his lungs losing their breath, suffocating his insides. the drink on his hand has long slipped out since he squeezed the container too hard.

fuck. what were you thinking, jake? 

what, that she would want to be with you?

when he reaches a silent cave, he could not help punching his fist against the hard wall, muttering ‘fuck’ when blood started to pour out from his knuckles. within the tight space, he could hear his ragged, uneven breathing. as he lay down on the sand to calm himself and close his eyes, he could not stop picturing you. your smiling figure when he told you his stories, your laughing frame when he tickled your sides, your confused look when he told you ‘you’re the prettiest thing i have ever seen’ in english. he knew you could not understand him and that brought him a bittersweet feeling.

he could dream about you all night—pretending he still had a whole life ahead with you, pretending the future was something reachable—if you did not call out his name.

“jake!”

your voice yanks him back from the half-formed fantasy. reality rushes in.

“jake, i have been searching for you.” when he opens his eyes, you are there, hovering above his reclined figure, shaking his shoulders lightly, concern etched into every line of your face, “why’re you here, jake?”

he drags himself upright into an awkward sitting position, knees creaking faintly as if rusted hinges protesting the movement, spine protesting under the accumulated weight of years and violence, “yeah,” he mutters, then louder, “got sleepy back there, sweetheart.” his calloused fingers pinch the bridge of his nose, a habit born from fatigue and age alike. jake hopes the answer will be enough—hopes it will smother the truth before it spills out of him.

but your eyes narrow and your mouth curves into a small frown, sleepy? you thought.

“you… don’t like my dances, jake?”

oh, fuck.

his palm comes up to cradle your face in urgent affection, thumb brushing your cheek as his focus drags unwillingly to your mouth, still pouting, “no, no, baby. that’s not—” his words collapse on themselves. jake exhales, frustrated, and guides you gently onto his lap, grounding himself in your weight, “that’s not what i meant, yawne.”

the look on your face twists into something wounded, almost betrayed, “so?”

he knows—god, he knows—how much you prepared for tonight. you talk about your practices constantly, weaving them into conversations like secrets you can’t quite keep. you never even let him sneak a preview; you wanted him to see it in real time, under the firelight.

great job, jake. real fucking smooth.

the expression you wear makes his chest ache, a bruising throb. it’s the look that awakens the part of him that wants to shield you from everything ugly in the world. and that includes himself.

“i love your dances, sweetheart,” he says quickly, sincerity pouring into every word. “never seen anyone move like that before. the most beautiful thing i’ve ever seen in my life—y’know that?” the closeness lets him inhale your scent in, familiar herbs and fruits flooding his senses, “you could never make me sleepy. ever.”

your cheeks bloom, the color spreading down your chest as butterflies erupt low in your belly, “thank you, jake,” you say softly, shy smile tugging at your lips. then your gaze drops. that’s when you see it: his knuckles, split and swollen, smeared dark with drying blood.

as if he feels your stare burn into him, jake flexes his hand and shifts it out of sight. too late. you’re already leaning in and frowning, “j-jake… did something happen?”

he clears his throat in a sound that’s halfway to a cough, half an attempt to laugh it off. “nothing happened, babygirl.” the grin he gives you is crooked and you notice immediately that it doesn’t reach his eyes.

“jake,” your voice is urgent but careful, like a distant lullaby that still manages to undo him on the first note. one of the few things jake cannot do—no matter how hard he tries—is lie to you.

his tongue sweeps over his dry lips as his palm slides along your side, the touch meant more to steady himself than to soothe you, “just got upset and hit the wall,” he says quietly. “nothin’.”

“upset?” you tilt your head, ducking lower until you can look him straight in the eyes, “why?”

he knows he can’t say nothing again. so his face tightens, jaw locking as he braces himself. he steals a glance at you, searching for something. here goes the end of the tunnel, jake.

“you’re beautiful,” he blurts. “you— i mean, truly. the best thing that ever happened to me.” his voice fractures at the end, and he winces, “fuck. i— why’re you even here with me, huh?”

the words tumble out darker now, breathless and raw, “you deserve better, baby. got boys lining up to court you. you deserve a clean canvas. not one smeared with reds and blacks. not me.”

your mouth falls open, then closes again as you search for footing before answering, “what— what do you mean, jake? i like you.”

“what do you like about me?” even as he asks it, he knows it’s cruel. a selfish question designed to hurt before he can be hurt first. how could you possibly answer that? how could he burden you with his own wound?

your silence stretches, and jake groans low in his throat, scrubbing a hand down his face, “you should go, sweetheart. someone’s gonna look for y—”

“i like you, jake.” the air leaves his lungs all at once.

“i— i like you so much,” you continue, voice trembling but steady, “i like how you smile and laugh, and how you tell me stories.” your fingers lift, tracing the planes of his face, lingering over scars. his eyes flutter shut as he gives in to your touch, “i like how you protect the people you love. how you protect me. how you listen, and remember the little things about everyone. how you help without ever asking for anything back. how you make stupid jokes just to see me smile. i—”

you swallow hard. “i wish you could see yourself the way i see you, jake.” when he opens his eyes, the world blurs. he barely recognizes the wetness there until it spills.

“i,” you whisper, pressing your lips to his cheek, just above the cut, “love”—a kiss to the other cheek—“you.” your mouth finds his gently, “i don’t want a blank canvas.”

everything inside him gives way. his grip tightens on your waist as he chases after your mouth, desperate now, “i love you,” he mutters, voice breaking. “fuck. i love you.”

his forehead presses to yours, breaths syncing, the realization settling heavy and irreversible in his chest—that this is it, that he is ruined and redeemed all at once, the words spilling unchecked, “iloveyouiloveyouilove—”

you silence him with another kiss, slower this time as if sealing the confession into something physical, your thumb brushing his sharp jaw. when you pull back, there’s a glistening thread of saliva connecting you, “i want you. now, jake. please—”

another thing about jake is that he has never learned how to say no to you. “lay on the sand, baby,” he murmurs, voice low and reverent now, “take those off.”

the ground is cool beneath your back as you strip without hesitation, letting your attires fall forgotten at your side. jake groans openly at the sight of you, slick and exposed under the dim glow, taking a moment longer than necessary, “christ.”

“christ?”

you barely get the question out before he’s over you, predatory and intent. one hand pins your waist, thumb circling your clit lazily, deliberately, while the other cups your breast with a familiarity that borders on worship. your pussy is his altar. he drags his tongue from your swollen button down to your clenching hole, savoring every juice. “she’s winkin’ at me, sweets,” he murmurs, “it’s real cute.”

“ah-ah…” he drinks you in, refuses to waste a single drop, lapping at your folds until your moans turn desperate and broken, letting the tension coil instead of rushing to release it. fuck. he could die happy like this: tongue buried while making you fall apart.

you need him inside you. now. “please— fuck me, please, daddy—”

“shh, daddy’s got you,” he coos, lifting himself just enough to slot between your legs. his cock hangs heavy, thick and flushed, restrained only by his own will. gripping the base, he drags the leaking tip through your folds, smearing pre over your swollen clit, teasing and drawing a whine from your throat.

then he pulls back completely into a seating position. you lift your head, confused and breathless, “w-wha—”

jake leans onto the solid wall, stroking himself slowly as his eyes rake over you, smirk sharp, “you said you love me, baby?” he hums. “show daddy how much you do, sweetheart.”

jake: jesus, whos crying so damn loud? author: uh me