#im so enamoured by this movie i need it injected in my bloodstream

[tojisun]

‘til you found me

jake sully x metkayina!reader

!! follows atwow but also not canon-compliant; reader’s origins are not mentioned; fluff; jake calls reader baby girl 😔🤞🏼(i was projecting too hard); 1.7k words

: i watched atwow four times now oh my god im losing my mind bros, this is genuinely just to project my yearning – just jake taking reader for a ride on his ikran; the fic is not as polished but god it means sm to me so i hope you guys would love it too <33; psa - im still new to the lore n fandom so if i butchered the canonverse, pls do forgive me babes; title from lost at sea - lana

jake’sully tilts his head to the side, his lips tugging up in a smirk. your eyes flash to his fangs for a quick second, their perfect sharpness making your lungs constrict to the point that your lips almost parted to let out a gasp.

you look away just as fast, finding his hazel eyes again but jake’sully’s smirk has grown.

he has seen the way you looked at him.

“so? what’d you say i take you f’r a ride, baby girl?” he finally asks, his voice a rich baritone. his na’vi is still accented with his earthen dialect and there are times that your ears strain to try to understand what he is saying but right now, you know you would not like anything else.

“i’m not a babe,” you murmur, your tail whipping in agitation, reflecting the turbulence in your heart.

you know you sound petulant – just like a babe, you think to yourself – but there is a part of you that wants to prove to jake’sully that even without warrior’s blood coursing through your veins, there is still more to you than an inkling similarity to that of an unknowing infant. after all, eywa smiles upon you too.

jake’sully’s eyes crease, his smirk tilting a little and you see flash of apprehension in his eyes – hazel like the roots of marui – before he huffs, a sound that is quiet but fond.

“‘s not what i meant, kid,” he replies, his hands reaching to tangle with yours. you blink at the touch, watching the earthen fingers weaving with yours, still unused to the difference but not bothered by it at the same time.

“i just,” he continues when you do not reply. his voice strains like he is nervous, and you almost smile at the idea that the toruk makto is nervous because of you. “y’r just precious to me, ‘s all.”

you sniff, trying to quash the burning of your cheeks, afraid that he would see the flush racing from the tips of your ears to the centre of your nose. you turn away from him, looking at his ikran.

it is bigger than an ilu, the only ride you can mount, and it looks even more daunting than a tsurak. perhaps it is because a tsurak is still of the waters but an ikran is something so foreign; it is a beast that governs the sky – a prey and, occasionally, an ally of the toruk. there is no reason for a metkayina weaver to mount such creature.

yet here jake’sully is, coaxing you on its back.

perhaps all the breathing exercises have finally got to him.

he laughs when you murmur this to him, his head falling back as explosive laughter booms from his lips. his beautiful lips.

“precious one, indeed.” his eyes are crinkling in delight again and you have truly never seen anything as breathtaking.

there is so much of the forest in jake’sully. it is not only his arms or his tail that portray this, but it is the way he walks: the sureness in his stride like there is no other purpose for his feet other than walking. moving.

it is in the way he hunts: how he is poised on a higher ground, even when mounting his tsurak, listening to his surroundings, before going for the kill. he does not use nets, just his spear or his dagger, and yet he always seemed to claim the biggest fish in the reef.

it is in the way he talks: his words clipped and short, barked out orders that would have been insignificant when in water. he talks like he is afraid that his voice would be lost amidst the chirps of the birds or the rustles of the leaves instead of resonating amongst the people.

it is in the way he uses his hands: closed palms instead of flatly opened, the way it normally is in your clan. all he has known is how to grab and how to yank, but he is learning how to wade. and he is so good at it.

jake’sully is alien even without his demon blood. and yet you cannot help but gravitate towards him, always responding to his call with your own, letting yourself be part of his family.

(“she would have fought you,” jake’sully whispered one evening, his bigger body submerged in the waters, his head resting between your thighs as you worked on his hair and braided them into neat strands.

i know, you wanted to say. she would’ve won the fight before i could even move.

i know, you wanted to say. and maybe then you wouldn’t look at me.

there are so much you wanted to say but you remained silent, letting the gliding waters fill the silence between you, your trembling fingers working slowly to finish the braids.)

“i think i would like to ride him, if that is okay with you, jake’sully?” you tell him, tugging at his hand as you spoke.

“just ‘jake’, baby girl,” he replies as he smiles again. “and of course. i promise you: y’would love the sky.”

you nod, not knowing what is the right thing to say as you mull over his name, earthen by origin but something that is so fitting for the forest warrior.

jake lets go of your hand to pull at his braid and make tsaheylu with his ikran. you watch from your peripheral, making sure that you would not look at the ikran’s eyes. your ears flick as it makes clicking sounds in response to their formed connection before you hear jake replying to it with soft whispers, his voice curling into something that is gentle.

you smile to yourself, feeling warmth exploding in your belly at hearing this side of jake. you are sure that there are only few of your clan’s people who know of jake’s gentleness – they are still too used to only seeing him as his history. the man that he was in the past.

but you understand why.

he may not be olo'eyktan in awa'atlu with the metkayina, but that is not something that just goes away because of formalities. jake commandeers respect even amongst your people, his words and his actions garner awe and produce inspiration.

he is also good to the eyes.

you remember the women in your clan giggling to themselves, envisioning how it’d be like to be with the toruk makto, and fanning themselves when the topic became too sensual. too physical. their voices always petered out into wistful sighs, unable to contain their desires even when jake had been dubbed demon-blood by the tsahik.

it is not like you can fault them, not when you had been one of the many admirers of jake. you just didn’t expect the toruk makto, the former olo'eyktan of omotikaya and the warrior that led the clans to victory against the sky people, to give you his attention.

“come, baby girl,” jake says, yipping to catch your attention. you blink your eyes at him, turning, before you startle at seeing his ikran looking at you, its head tilted to the side – a perfect mirror of jake’s mannerism. “ride with me.”

he offers you his hand and you have barely twined your fingers with his before he is pulling you up, your body going weightless at the sheer strength of toruk makto’s.

you squeak, startling, and jake laughs at your reaction. even his ikran clicks in a tone that resembles laughter and you feel so embarrassed as you press your face onto jake’s back. his skin meets your soft cheeks and the contact has your breath hitching.

jake has always been tactile with you but there is something new today. perhaps it is the whistling winds or the weight of his hand on your thighs, keeping you from slipping off the ikran from where you are sat behind him. whatever it was, you are sure you heard jake’s stuttered breath.

it seems like you aren’t the only one overthinking everything or who is hyperaware of the contact. you smile, knowng that jake can feel your upturned lips from where they are pressed flush on his skin.

jake murmurs something too faint for you to hear before he clicks and the ikran soars.

oh great mother, you think as the wind whirls past you, your braids pushing away from your body as the ikran flies. jake laughs, so joyful that you feel your stomach twisting, coaxing you to stop shrieking and to look up from where you are still pressed on his back.

you want to snap at him and tell him to shut up but you know he is only being nice, after all, jake just wants to show you how the world looks from the sky. so you control your breathing, calming your heart, before you pull away from jake’s body and tilted your head down.

oh how beautiful it is.

the waters stretch further than you expected, their colours changing to signify their depth. you notice the way the lush corals of the reef and the scattering in the thin forest of the island is shining, their lights flickering and dancing with life.

you are so overwhelmed by what you are seeing that you don’t even know you are crying, a sob creeping past your lips. jake startles, not having expected a visceral reaction from you, and you feel him change course, surely finding a place to land his ikran.

this tenderness of his brings more tears to spill from your eyes, your heart weighing in your chest so heavily that you are sure you will explode with it. you push your face on jake’s back again, your arms tightening around his waist, before you press a kiss on his skin.

“i see you, jake,” you say, unsure if your voice would carry to him even amidst the whipping wind.

you feel jake’s hand tighten around your thigh and that is all the confirmation you need.

then, “i see you, baby girl.”

@whats-belay, thank you for letting me use u as a soundboard throughout the four times ive watched atwow! hope you would love this, especially since it’s more coherent than my keyboard smash