Jake Sully One-Shots

Syay

You and Jake weren't really a couple at the start. Sure, you had your moments. Like sometimes, he'd bring you a cute little bundle of flowers, or a new anklet and shit like that. But it was never serious, never really a relationship.

The first time he met you was during a hunting festival, with crystal beads in your hair and a mischievous glimmer in your eyes that he couldn't help but be drawn to. He had a bit too much to drink, and it seemed as if you did too.
He walked up to you, trying to hide the intense nerve that shock his system because you were really fucking pretty. You were dancing carelessly, arms flowing out and he taps one of them, immediately cringing at the unplanned move.

You turn, the beads in your hair rattling against the base of your neck as you look up at him with curiosity.

"Hey," he mumbles, crackling a tiny smirk that covers the immense panic he feels.

You blink, smiling a little as you look him up and down. "Hello."

"You, uh," Jake clears his throat. "You're really pretty, and uh... would you wanna dance?"

God, he seems like a complete douchebag. But you like it, or seem to at least by the way your smile widens. You simply nod, turning yourself completely to him and placing the palms of your hands on his shoulders, and he watches you do it with wide eyes. He notices the way your head gently tilts, before you grab one of his hands, directing it to your hip. "You place here."

He nods, flicking his gaze quickly to the other dancing pairs to see what they're doing as he attempts to copy. You find it cute.

"I feel how tense your fingers are." You comment, and his gaze snaps right back to you. His ears twitch down, airplane mode for a millisecond before they're back up laying against his black hair.

"You can?"

"Mm," you hum. "Relax."

He tries to do what you say, breathing in through his chest and relaxing his hand sat against your hip but it's hard, because he can't help but feel the way the perky bone of your hip sticks out to his fingers and how smooth your skin is.

"Relax," you repeat, letting a breathy giggle fall from your lips at his obvious lack of ability to do such a simple action. When his fingers finally slow and rest lazily on your skin, you smile. "For Toruk Makto, you are quite humble."

You know completely what to do through the music, starting your hands at the base of his stomach before dragging them up to his neck and making your palms meet. "Take your hand off my hip," you mumble. You spread your hands out across his chest, following out the length of his arms before finally meeting his hands, threading your fingers through his fingers and bringing them up and above both your heads.

You're looking at your conjoined hands, but he's looking at you. When you bring them down, you catch his gaze, and you're taken slightly aback by the intensity caught in it. You slow your hands, staring at him as your mouth gently agapes.