#a hostile spaces but beautiful

[crazy-fruit]

Come on

The seafloor is kissing the horizon

A compass to guide you home

Let's head into the desert of nothingness

Full of birds

[haunted-by-the-narrative]

Everybody dies in the cathedral

[theghostofashton]

.

[somekindafairy]

imagine a world with free public restrooms and showers

[bilal-salah0]

While children around the world enjoy the summer holidays within the safety and comfort of their homes and plan fun beach trips with their families, our kids' childhood has been reduced to securing the bare minimum of food and water, fending off swarms of disease-carrying insects, and enduring the stifling heat inside the hellish tent. Seeing them fill water containers and struggle to carry them with their tiny hands breaks my heart into a million pieces. Our babies fall asleep drenched in sweat and keep waking up crying and gasping for breath. What makes it even more unbearable are the plagues of flies and mosquitoes that keep torturing their little fragile, malnourished bodies, increasing the risk of contracting infectious diseases, with no medical care available. They also face a very real and imminent threat of dehydration due to water and formula scarcity.Their older siblings are encumbered by burdens way beyond their years. They think it is their responsibility to fill heavy water containers and protect the newborns, but the truth is they are as vulnerable to the same threats that keep growing every day. No child should live in such a hostile environment. Rubble, garbage, and the smell of death are all around.

Our kids used to have a beautiful spacious home built after years of toil and sacrifice, just to be turned into ruins in the blink of an eye. Now, they are given no other choice but to be confined to the tight airless space of a makeshift tent swarming with all sorts of insects. Even if they go outside the only things that await them are the scorching sun, the hot summer air, and foul smells all day long. The summer nights are often equally suffocating depriving them of desperately needed sleep.

Using a wood-fired self-made stove to cook is beyond torture in such heat. It is also very dangerous to the children who keep going close to it. My heart sinks each time I see pictures of them next to the fire. Even preparing a baby bottle,if ever available, is an ordeal in such conditions but my family have no other options. They have been enduring unfathomable, relentless suffering for nine months straight, and they have been more than resilient but they are now way beyond exhausted. They have been daily fighting for their very survival but there's no guarantee of safety anywhere in Gaza as not only what is left of the buildings but also the tents are being indiscriminately bombed every single day. Even going to the beach to escape the sweltering heat has become a perilous journey for my family, and countless others, since civilians keep being targeted with airstrikes there too.

My family were not allowed to have even the slightest respite since the beginning of this waking nightmare. They have been striving to survive bombing, malnutrition, disease, the cold winter, and now the deadly heatwaves.

When I left Gaza shortly before the war, my dream was to build a brighter future for my loved ones. I have never imagined, once in my life, that I would be raising funds to literally save their lives. Now, my only wish is to keep them alive and as safe as possible, given the circumstances.

Your support is their only hope and solace amidst all the pain and loss. Please do whatever you can to help me save them from this brutal literal decimation of our people. Every contribution counts! Keep our babies in your thoughts and prayers 🙏 And Please donate any amount you can spare and reblog as often as you can. It is beyond words to say how grateful I am to everyone standing with us 🙏

[alastorss]

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

Alastor's antlers are embarrassingly, pathetically, unbearably sensitive.

He can't for the life of him figure out why—it's not like any of the other transfigured creatures wandering around the underworld were made this way. Most other animal-like sinners don't seem to care about or even acknowledge their characteristics.

Yet here he is, purposefully hiding them away just so that no one will discover his terrible weakness. Oh, what he would give to be like the others if only to ignore their incessantly uncomfortable presence on his head.

Perhaps it was a curse from heaven that made him this way, or karma that he was repaying from his life. Either way, he can't stand being touched.

At least, that's what he thought.

There's no malicious intent behind your hands, no glint in your eye that makes the primal instincts in his head scream at him to melt into the shadows. You're as gentle as can be, fingers running delicately along the intricacies of his antlers and stopping just at the ends of them.

"They're beautiful," you whisper with your eyes blown wide. Your shoulders rise and fall with each rapid breath, probably from the adrenaline of standing so close to an Overlord like this. And Alastor, no less.

Your reliable hotelier. Your first real friend in the hotel. The one whose smile cannot be trusted.

But for some reason, you can't shake the feeling that he's looking at you with pure, genuine appreciation even if his smile is a little wonky.

"Why, thank you, darling!"

He jerks away from you quick as the wind, standing tall once again and towering over you. His expression has morphed into something more strained—you can tell by the way his face creases up as his eyes narrow.

He was the one who decided to invade your personal space while the two of you were arguing. He just didn't think that you would be so bold as to get distracted by his antlers and have the gall to reach out to touch them.

The worst part? The absolute worst part of it all is that no one in all the time he's been in Hell has been gentle with him like that.

Add that to the list of things he despises. Or likes. You're confusing him now.

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

You have some nerve, he thinks.

Your hands have found a new home resting atop his head, with your fingers combing through his hair and tracing up and down the curve of his antlers.

It becomes a nightly routine—him on the barstool or sitting in front of the piano and you standing behind him with your fingers tangled in his hair and your chin on his head, perched right between the horns. Others in the hotel have started to raise a brow, but you don't seem to care.

So when you finally decide to break routine, sitting on the opposite end of the couch from him, his eye twitches.

There isn't even an audience tonight, everyone else already tucked into bed save for Husk behind the bar who's too busy with a bottle to care. The silence between you is heavy as lead.

"Is something the matter?" Alastor finally abruptly asks, eyes narrowed at you from the side. You shift uncomfortably.

"Why would something be the matter?"

He's not in the mood for games right now. "This is the first time you've sat away from me in months," he observes.

You look at him, surprised by his hostility over this. "Well, Lucifer told me that you don't like—"

"Lucifer," he interrupts, head now whipping to the side so he can fully glare at you. "Knows nothing."

You blink at him, stunned. With the way he's acting, he almost seems... annoyed that you've decided to stop being so handsy?

Silence overcomes you again as you just stare at each other, completely at a loss of words. Alastor finally realizes his snappiness and composes himself once more, exhaling through his teeth.

His smile softens at you, missing its usual edge. You know him like this the best—head in your lap and antlers exposed. It's familiar to you in a way that it could never be to anyone else. At least, you hope that's true.

"He knows nothing," the radio demon says one more time for good measure, eyes drifting shut under the weight of your hands.

Alastor has never liked to be touched before. But maybe there is a first time for everything, and maybe the safety of your touch brings him enough ease that you're the first he admits he can tolerate.

His smile says it all. He's content like this, even if he would deny it with his chest if you ever told anyone else.

"Okay," you breathe. "I believe you."

[e-m-ma-lmfao]

can I request some cute fluff with Astarion - I think something cute would be tav’s never worn a dress and they put one on and Astarion is just mindblow by how good they look? 🥺

maybe he can do some chivalrous acts as well~

She Looks Breathtaking

pairing : astarion x (fem) reader

summary : astarion has never seen you in a dress, you haven’t been in one since you were taken from baldur's gate. you both find it hard to hide your excitement.

warnings : none :)

authors note: I hope you like this anon! (first, i finally played baldur's gate. second, i'm going to try and pump out the requests that I haven't gotten to.)

“Oh! Look how pretty this is!” 

You turn your head to look towards Karlach’s booming voice, much too loud for the small space you were in. She held up a dress, something you hadn’t thought about wearing in months. You hadn’t had any important events to attend.

Walking over to her side, you take the fabric between your fingers. “It’s beautiful..”

“You should get it. I think you’d look great, and I bet Astarion would like it too.” She nudged at your side, teasing. Your face flushed, and you ran your fingers along the hem of the dress, avoiding Karlachs gaze. She likes to poke fun at the obvious crush you had developed on Astarion, and everytime she did you regretted telling her more and more. 

Eventually, you find a small paper attached to the fabric showing the price of the dress, eyes widening at the disgustingly low price. 

“When would I even get a chance to wear it? It would go to waste, just weigh my bag down.” Karlach huffs, taking the price tag and reading it for herself.

“Are you kidding me? Even if you don’t wear it, you’d be a fool to ignore this price. Maybe you will attend some noble party when we get to Baldur's Gate!” She was way too excited but her energy almost made you agree with her, the dress was so cheap even if it went unworn for a long time. And you hadn’t worn one in..you couldn’t even remember.

You thought about it for a moment before moving for your coin pouch, pouring the amount into your hand and handing the coins to the trader. They slip out of your hand much faster than you'd care to admit, hiding your excitement from Karlach proving to be a challenge. “Don’t say a word to anyone, Karlach, I mean it.”

“Fine. But I better get to see you in it, at least try it on for me when we get back to camp!” You shake your head, amused by Karlachs childish antics, but you yourself can’t help but feel a little bit excited by the idea of dressing up. 

When you returned to camp that night you had forgotten about the dress in your bag, slipping your mind amidst the constant thought of being attacked or having to talk your way out of a hostile situation. 

So when Karlach came bouncing over to your side, your tent tucked away in a corner secluded from most of your party to keep your privacy, you could only give her a confused look. She seemed so excited and you had no idea why, and she was beginning to return the confusion.

“You gonna put on the dress or just make me stand here?” Oh! You let your bag fall to the ground, crouching down to rummage through its contents, searching for the dress. 

When you found it you laid it over your bag, standing back up to remove the leather from your body. You could hear Karlachs giggles as you shimmied out of your much too tight leather pants, only to have to pull the dress over your body right after.

Your hair was up, but you untied it and allowed your hair to fall over your shoulders. When you turned back to her, she stared at you with awe. “Woah..”

“What?” 

“You look..nice.” You giggled, which made her laugh along with you, both of you unaware of the approaching footsteps. His eyes trace along your figure, and he allows himself a moment of greediness to take in the full effect you have. You seem so happy, a smile appearing on his cheeks as he watches you smile gleefully and so..so..carefree. You're finally allowing yourself to have fun, and not worrying about protecting everyone else around you. And Gods.. you’re breathtaking. 

He would never admit to a living soul, or a non-living one for that matter, but he had been infatuated with you since the moment you asked him to join your party. You made him weak, and with his newfound freedom he wasn’t sure what the correct way to deal with it was. Obviously he could use his charm to lure you into his bedroll, but he wanted more, he wanted to be the reason you felt giddy enough to show your teeth with a smile. He wanted to be the reason you laughed, and fooled around, the reason you felt safe enough to have fun. 

He takes a deep breath in, to regain his confidence and charm, and he proceeds towards the two of you.  

Until his voice filled your ears and caused your eyes to shoot in his direction, “Well well..don’t you look nice.” 

“Astarion!” He approached the two of you slowly, staring at you and paying no mind to Karlach’s presence. 

“I’m gonna leave you two alone..” Karlach let out an awkward chuckle, making eye contact with you with wiggly eyebrows before sneaking away.

You look back towards Astarion, who is unable to make eye contact with you as his eyes roam along your body, preoccupied. You're certain he doesn't even realise Karlach has left from beside the two of you.

“Where did you get this pretty thing?” He looks back up to meet your eyes, smirk big enough to show his fangs which sends a nervous shiver through your body. A tingle in your neck reminds you of the favour you allowed him. Your arms cross against your chest, suddenly more nervous in his presence than ever before. 

“Just something I picked up from a merchant..” 

“In all the time I’ve traveled by your side , I’ve never seen you look so.. elegant.” 

“Wow thanks..” You roll your eyes with a snort, crossing your arms tighter across your chest.

“Now c’mon darling..you know I mean you no disrespect. Only pointing out the obvious. May I?” At first you're unsure what he’s even asking permission for, but when you see his hands reaching out to touch you, you give him a nod. 

He doesn’t hesitate, hands finding your hips. “See…usually you’re wearing that menacing leather, always so serious.” Your face scrunches up at his words, you’ve never thought your armour to be very menacing nor did you believe you were ‘always serious’. Only when the situation called for it. 

The heat of his skin can be felt even through the fabric. His thin fingers squeeze into the plush of your hips, then run along your waist, feeling the fabric between his fingers. “But right now, in this dress, with your hair undone,” He brings his hand up to run his fingers through your hairs, “You look so free. You’re beautiful darling..so beautiful.” 

You feel your face relax, and it only softens more when Astarions eyes meet yours once more and his pupils are blown . The softest smile blossoms on his face, which turns out to be contagious cause not soon after a cheek burning smile is on your face. Face hot as you look into his eyes, his hands still on your waist, thumbs massaging your skin through your dress. 

“I should take it off, I don’t want to get it dirty.” 

“Could you humor me?”

“Humor you? How so, Astarion?” 

“Keep it on, just for an hour. It’s been a long time since I spent an evening with a woman as beautiful as you..” 

[icejjfishesz]

𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐁𝐎𝐃𝐈𝐄𝐒 ❞ 𓄼˚ ▍ K.M.

❛ 𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆             ━━  strangers at a party ❜

❛ 𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁                ━━  fuckin in the bathroom cause i did it in the kitchen so it seemed like the next step idk. lesbian sex idk what else to say. ❜

❛ 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁         ━━  1.8k ❜

❛ 𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲      ━━  got lazy towards the end and it shows but i was asked for kate smut so i wanted to deliver. say you’re proud of me. ❜

LAS VEGAS, NEVADA: sinews of nightlife and world-class entertainment. a city so full of beauty and sin you sometimes wonder if you’re meant to repent or bow down to it. an oxymoron in the way it’s a symbol of opulence and misfortune. in every direction the city spans, meets another person who could vouch for it.

no more than four hours ago, you were at home. peacefully solitary. indulging in a new show you had started recently –– then you got the call. the groan that escaped you as a result of it was disgruntled. you answered and met the voice of your friend, buoyancy dripping from her every syllable when she said…

you should come with me to hang out. 

she was practically pleading, no doubt missing your presence which doubled as having you as a designated driver. she made it sound fun. or perhaps her excitement was austerely contagious. so, you acquiesce now and plan to regret later. you should’ve expected a party. more accurately, the party. flashing lights coating the room in an array of dizzying colors. talking bodies dancing around the sumptuous house in a haze. unsystematically. 

hot and clamorous and mesmerizing.

“hey baby…” the voice makes you tense. you look up at the perspiring face it belongs to and that does nothing to pacify you. then the touch on your arm. a cold, clammy hand kneading along your skin. you cower. physically retracting yourself as you attempt to recoil. they are unrelenting. tight grip as their nails dig into you to hold you there –– trap you in the prison of their proximity. “what are you doin’ over here all by yourself?”

the stench of alcohol fills your senses the closer they get to you. the unequivocal slur in their voice. impossible to be underplayed or considered inscrutable. incredibly, humiliatingly drunk. you send a tight, bellicose smile their way –– hoping your hostility would be enough to make them turn back around.

you fail. or perhaps they’re just too desperate obstinate. 

“i’m waiting for my girlfriend.” it’s a lie, purely for survival. their shoulder slump even if only for a moment, they take a beat and regain their audacity. 

“you know…” here we go… “if you were my girlfriend…i’d never let you outta my sight.”

 it could almost be charming if it wasn’t for their lack of balance as they sway on their feet. childlike. unable to walk straight even if only a step or two to invade your personal space.

“good thing i’m not your girlfriend.” you mutter, sass stricken tone as you tilt your head up –– hoping to catch any free air that wasn’t assailed by the scorch of the person in front of you.

“damn, baby…that’s cold. i like it.” tenacious. standing as straight up as they can despite their drunken slouch. you’re sure if they weren’t leaning on the remnants of their pride they’d topple over and pestle into dust.

“i’m seriously not interested. my girlfriend should be coming back soon.” you know the waters are abysmal and inclement but you test them anyway. praying that there’s a chance their ego will sweep them back to whatever hell they came from.

“i don’t think you have a girlfriend, sweet thing. i bet you’re just playin’ hard to get.” they step even closer, almost making you gag.

you send another prayer out. hoping for an angel to sweep in and make this person disappear.

“look –– i know my girl’s really pretty but i’d appreciate it if you’d leave her alone now.” a girl you can’t really make out the face of speaks. make no mistake, though the words are kind the tone is threatening. yet unlike this random in front of you, her voice catches your attention and soothes you. it catches their attention too, finally backing away in surrender. your eyes squint and the only thing that can come to mind as this faceless woman comes in to save the day is…god? is that you?

they another swig out of their red solo and send a hankering look over their shoulder before you’re finally released as they walk away. free at last.

you clear your throat of any traces of the venom reserved for insistent, drunk strangers. you cave your shoulders inwards, bending your back to release yourself of built tension before letting out a soft sigh since it feels like you can breathe again. “...thanks.”

she lifts and drops her shoulders, dismissively. letting you know the action wasn’t one she needed thanking for. she steps a bit closer so she can hear you better and damn. gold flaxen hair combed back in a ponytail so you can get a better look at all her pretty features. you espy her perfect nose and welcoming smile. verdure green eyes making direct contact with yours. and, again, damn –– the way her eyes smile at you benevolently, the kind you could get lost in. god definitely had favorites and she was the supreme. her likeness stopping you in your tracks. entranced by her.

“i’m kate, by the way.” she extends a hand, open palm to the side for you to take. you amalgamate fingers with her –– her palms soft as butter. 

you give her your name as the handshake cleaves apart. she notices the lack of a red cup in your hands –– easy to spot since most everyone around you isn’t void of one –– and takes the chance. “that’s a pretty name. you aren’t drinking?”  

“i’m driving.” you miss the way her shoulders relax when she hears that you’re sober. her hands retiring to the pockets of her pants as she studies you. no doubt checking you out just as shamelessly as you had done to her.

“me too.” her lips rise at the sides –– a smile that could divest the most stubborn tension. you smile back but keep your shoulders straight and command your knees to keep firm. and refuse to let them buckle for a ridiculously pretty stranger.

“do you go to a lot of parties?” she crooks her head to the side, curiosity twinkling in her pretty eyes. 

“not really.” your tongue darts out to wet your lips. “do you?”

she chuckles airly. “not really.”

“what made you come to this one then?”

“my friends dragged me here. i think they just wanted my attention though. i’m a great personal chauffeur apparently.” jauntily dig that forces your teeth to bite back another grin.

“can’t blame them too much in that case. who wouldn’t want your attention?” an intuitive hunch on your end but you couldn’t help it. 

“are you saying that you want my attention?” she replies back quickly, not missing a beat.

“absolutely not...” you smile teasingly, sarcasm itself probably envious of your delusive tone.

“…are you flirting with me?” you’re graced with a hearty chuckle, her lips pressing together as she clears the joke. 

“absolutely.” 

she tilted her head again, formal reddening spreading across her cheeks. pretty. it almost felt like the party quieted down or ceased to exist entirely as the two of you just talked. mouths spewing about anything and everything. it wasn’t long until you upped the ante, getting bolder with your flirty remarks to see that familiar blush across her cheeks again.

“wanna get out of here?” you lower your voice to a breathy whisper. daring her to step closer.

“we…we have to drive, we shouldn’t leave the party…” her breathing quickens, tachycardic heart pulsing. be responsible, kate. she reminds herself albeit reluctantly because she wants nothing more than to drag you out of here.

“not out of the party…out of this room.” you outstretch your hand again.

hell yes. her hand sliding against yours –– wide, toothy grin settling her lips. you cusp your hand in the curve of hers.

you lead her through the talking, drunk bodies you’re surrounded with. she clings to the grasp of your warm hand as you make it up the stairs. you lead her across the hall. you lower your voice. “i think this is the bathroom.”

she watches you clasp your hand into a fist and press it firmly against the closed door a few times. no answer. the most beautiful silence she’s ever heard.

you open it and see that it is in fact empty and is in fact the bathroom. and most importantly clean. you back her flush against the counter, staring at her for a fleeting moment before you whisper.

“you’re so pretty…”

she groans, kissing you with all her pent up greed –– pulling you as close as she can get you and then even closer. your hands reach down to her pants, hooking around the top of them.

“take these off..” it was something about the breathy way you spoke the words, how your eyes twinkled practically begging for it. nimble fingers desperately seeking the removal of her belt as she nods in approval.

once it’s gone, you slip your hand into her pants and past her underwear. agile fingertips reaching her puffy clit. she hisses which quickly resolves into a moan which you swallow eagerly.

it feels good. she moans as much but you would’ve assumed it by the way she struggles to kiss you back. 

“please. it’s not enough, go faster.” she huffs, hips bucking into your hand.

“what?” in the palm of your hand you hold her release underneath your ordinance. she sounded so pretty askin so nicely. “tell me again.”

she grumbles, head tossing itself back and back arching into you. “please.”

you wouldn’t wanna disappoint. so you give her what she’s longing for, fingers speeding up to get her there. her ecstasy is contagious, your own body losing control as your hands move on their own accord –– raring to send her over the edge. 

it’s addicting. how her eyes screw shut, the gasp she lets out as her own delectation overtakes her. you ride it out for her, wrists eventually knotting behind her neck when she kisses you.

“your turn.” she mumbles into your mouth but a knock at the door pauses both your movements, you go to move away but she holds you tighter. “...promise i’ll be quick if you promise to be quiet.”

damn. risky offer that you wouldn’t be caught dead denying. you nod, letting her dismiss your bottoms as she drops to her knees in front of you. her hot breath fans over your pussy –– near embarrassment flowing over you at how soaked you are.

she wastes no time, lithe tongue licking between your legs. lips opening and closing around your clit. you’re spoiling her, indubitably. she was completely spoiled the second your mouth got the first taste of you. she basks in the beauty of your rapture. if only for a moment more to pull away and hear you whine for desire of her. she licks your lips of the remnants of your taste on them, chin coated in your interrupted release. she couldn’t resist how perfect the opportunity to tease you right now was.

“say please.”

[dezertvideogames]

The Subnautica of other fears

Subnautica is a game infamous for it's almost all ocean planet, underwater worldbuilding, and deep sea gameplay. It's also the bane of all thalassaphobia peeps.

So here's the subnautica of other phobias

Claustrophobia Fear of Tight/Cramped Spaces - The Forest Series : After a plane crash leaves you stranded in a strange forests, something increasingly becomes... wrong. The caves around don't help.

Scopophobia Fear of being watched or the center of attention - Brighter Day : A weirdcore horror game where something is definitely watching you and definitely following you.

Entomophobia/Arachnophobia - Grounded : You play a group of kids who are stuck in a "honey I shrunk the kids" incident. They are forced to venture across their yard, and survive the various common insects around.

Megalophobia Fear of very very very big things - The Utility Room : An experience. More of an experience then a game and fever dreamish, worth it, and mysterious all the way. It's almost as if the universe accidentally left one strange dev room behind.

Nyctophobia Fear of darkness - Amnesia: The Bunker (from the Amnesia series) : It's a first-person survival horror. You play a French man trapped in a bunker during WW1, while being hunted by something inside its darkness.

Autophobia Fear of being/feeling alone - Firewatch : You work in a national park in order to watch out for fires. Traveling across the Wyoming wilderness takes a complicated turn.

Hemophobia Fear of blood or bleeding - Iron Lung : What awaits you in the deep of a strange moon. Trapped in a submarine you have no choice but to find out.

Amaxophobia Fear of car accidents or being run over - Decimate Drive : After freeing yourself from a kidnapping, the world you wake up to is full of hostile cars.

Final Boss Games:

Lethal Company

Fun with friends :D

Genre: Indie Comedy Horror

Takes place on alien planets in outerspace

It's multiplayer, and very fun, but as soon as it hits the fan the sound design works hard to immerse you in the sudden loneliness. The games sound design is one the major players of Lethal Company's fear. As soon as a friend walks away the proximity chat teaches you just how separated you now are.

Before you know it you have had something unfriendly following behind you, and finally finding the silhouette of a friend in the dark you are betrayed by the creatures of the Lethal Company universe.

Fear of Darkness

Fear of Loneliness

Fear of Being Watched

Fear of Outerspace

The Metro Series

Genre: Survival Horror Shooter

You play the beautiful and amazing Artyom Chynornyj in the post-apocalyptic world of Metro. Developed by Ukrainians and based off the Russian book series + Polish fanon writing community.

The world of Metro is unfair and unforgiving, full of mutated creatures, and the leftover souls that the destruction of humanity left in it's wake. Crawl across the underground of Russian cities, or panic across the even more dangerous world of the destroyed above.

Fear of Darkness

Fear of Wild Animals

Fear of Deep Water

Fear of Ghost/The Supernatural

Fear of Insects/Spider

Fear of Heights

Fear of Dead Bodies

Fear of the Cold

No Man's Sky

The scariest game I've ever played. I don't know why, but this game freaks me out. I know the picture I chose was harmless, but I did that on purpose.

This game is beautiful, but don't let that fool ya. This world will leave you no hesitation lost in the unpredictable randomly generated horrors of space. From planet that are all water, to colossus creatures you see for only a split second, to the infinite colorless expanse of space.

Megalphobes and astrophobes, this is your subnautica

Fear of Outerspace

Fear of Darkness

Fear of Cramped Spaces

Fear of the Unknown

Fear of Very Very Very Big Things

Fear of Deep Water

Fear of Loneliness

Fear of Caves

Fear of the Supernatural

[theladyofmanyfandomsfanfiction]

Imagine Halbrand keeping up appearances and gifting you a token…

Distance was crucial in this moment - especially when your whole body desired nothing more than to cross the space and seek comfort in familiar arms.

“You do not seem pleased to see me.” Halbrand noted, his tone curious. He took a step forward but halted immediately when he saw you tense and move backwards by the same measure. “You are most certainly not pleased to see me. May I inquire the reason for such hostility?”

Unsure of his intentions, you couldn’t believe that the man who stole your heart was capable of the danger that Galadriel had claimed.

“You were seen at the Forge without permission. What is your sudden interest in Celebrimbor’s work?” You asked.

Halbrand smiled and then nodded in understanding.

“Ah, so my unapproved presence has caused a stir. It is true, I sought out the elf. He is a famed craftsman and I was curious about his techniques.”

You frowned at him. “What ever for?”

“Well, I had hoped to keep this a secret but...” Halbrand reached into a pocket and fished out a small glimmering band of metal. “I was hoping that you would accept a humble gift from a simple man who works at a forge.”

As he spoke, Halbrand had closed the space without you realising until you could the details etched into the beautiful metal.

You took in a sharp breath. “Rings are no small token to be exchanged, Halbrand. There is always a purpose when they are forged and friendship is commemorated differently.”

“Who said this was created for friendship?” Halbrand questioned. You looked up and finally met his warm eyes as he spoke. “You fought on my behalf and helped stake my claim upon a cursed land. This ring is my asking that you continue to stand at my side.”

Halbrand used his free hand to trace a line down your arm until the clasped around your hand. He brought it up and turned your palm to face the ceiling before he placed the cool band to rest atop the skin.

“You need not make a choice in this moment. I will wait and hope that you say yes.” He told you kindly.

“And what if that is not the answer I chose?” You asked, looking up at him. It had to be asked.

Halbrand eyes did not dim for a second, the glimmer was constant. “If that is what you choose then it will be respected. And you may keep the token regardless, consider it a gift.”

~ More imagines here ~

A/n: One scene is all it took to throw me back here…

[sebastianswallows]

Dreamed of you

— PAIRING: Feyd-Rautha x F!Reader

— SYNOPSIS: A Bene Gesserit sister is sent to kill Feyd. She hesitates as she watches him sleep, all the way until he wakes up and catches her.

— WARNINGS: none, just reader simping for one cute boy

— WORDCOUNT: 1k

— A/N: First of all, this isn't necessarily movie!Feyd, it's more based on the books, but I love him in all his forms. I wrote this in a bout of madness this evening, and it's just a love letter to how beautiful and soft and sad Feyd canonically is. That is all.

A shadow in the corner moved. The door shut behind her with a hiss. Outside, the chanting of his name resounded like a distant wave. Feyd. A myriad of emotions raged inside the way that sylphic syllable was said. So mangled and intense were they that she could hardly tell, even after weeks of being on Giedi Prime, if the feeling in their voices was that of fear, or love.

He had won another battle in the arena tonight. Half-fight, half-play, all a spectacle of violence kept elegant and grim with the flourished motions of his blades in inky black and white. The celebrations were kept modest afterwards. This was no birthday.

His chambers smelled of sweet sweat and bitter blood. It filled her lungs as soon as she stepped in. He slept now, quietly, in a surprisingly small bed. As she approached him, dagger in hand, she realised it was not so small — he just took little space on it.

He slept huddled to one side, his body curled within the black sheets as if he were in a womb.

The na-Baron was an arresting sight, like a work of art left interrupted. His marble-white arms hugged a pillow to his chest, and from beneath a curve of silk draped over him, the corner of a knee peeked through. The soft line of his eyes revealed a dour bend in sleep, delicate dark lashes resting like butterfly wings on his cheeks. His full lips, decadent and lustful, were pulled into a pout. She wondered what he was dreaming of.

Beneath this impressive amalgam of his features, from the dainty to the sultry to the broad shoulders and strong arms, he was just a little boy. Motherless and far from home, preyed on by his uncle, worshipped by a distant crowd. Useless, now that the Atreides line had ended and a child had been secured from him by Lady Fenring.

The Kwisatz Haderach would have to be reached through other means, and from a bloodline less volatile than that of the Harkonnens. They had proved uncooperative, hostile — the Baron, his nephews, even Lady Jessica. Born to be an asset, they made themselves a threat. That was why Feyd-Rautha had to die.

She stood over his black bed.

The guards outside were dealt with, the courtiers were asleep, and the drunk and maddened crowd outside would not realise what happened until it was too late. This was the result of years of planning, months of preparation, and weeks spent on that polluted planet pretending to be one of the new interrogation trainers.

Torturing was not her forté, but there were worse fates than cutting men’s tendons clean or gouging out their eyeballs. All the “noble” prisoners were already long dead before she got there. Failed Harkonnens was all that was left. And all men bled the same.

She stood over his black bed with a knife.

“He must die,” she thought to herself, an angry frown blooming on her brow. Her body was already rebelling. “The Reverend Mother demands it. He must die.”

She stood over his black bed with a knife. And faltered.

The blade shone silver in the low electric light, hanging like a teardrop from her fist. Her body refused to move.

Should she really kill him now? Perhaps she should wait for him to turn on his back. What would it hurt to look at him a second more, just another, and another…? He was a good fighter, no matter the arrangements of the arena. Would it not be ignoble to slay him this way? Generations of genetic planning had culminated in him, and to let it all go now...

Her mind’s motions, the fleshy resistance, it all came to nothing in an instant, blown away like snowflakes on the sand. There was a change in the air all around them, a stillness where unconsciousness was before, a presence, like a horn blown through a storm in the lighthouses of old, sounds swallowed by sounds, an impact of cells in the air blooming into a single point of light. Feyd-Rautha opened his eyes.

She only caught the hint of an impish smile before she backed away as quickly as an indrawn breath. Her back hit the door and her hand scrambled for the handle, but he was upon her with the same speed he applied in his gladiatorial fights.

How could she have missed the signs that he had woken? Had his breathing even changed?

“Got you now,” he purred against her cheek, “Bene Gesserit.”

She bit back a scream, her skull pressed against the metal door, and with clenched teeth, she began a sharp command — the Voice. But her anger overwhelmed her and Feyd’s lips swallowed the words she hadn’t even finished speaking.

“Let me g—”

He kissed her like a lover. There was a passion in him that his ostentations of brutality had not yet killed and she found herself moaning, instinctively pleased with the full and masculine presence that swallowed her being — as if it wasn’t a murderer who had caught her just now.

His breathing was steady, as if he had planned all of that. From beyond the thick folds of her dress, she could feel his naked flesh. They clung to him, her clothes, as if they wanted to embrace him. His left hand held her fist, the blade trapped within their entangled grip. The other held her jaw, tilting her face high enough for his lips.

“I knew you’d come,” he breathed, pausing to rest his mouth on hers. She could taste ink on her tongue — the final traces from the coating on his teeth. “I dreamed of you.”

So that was how he knew. That was why he pouted in his sleep.

“Will you kill me?” he whispered.

She could feel it on her cheeks when that boyish smile of his grew.

“I have to,” she said, and her own voice betrayed her, sounding terribly broken.

“Try,” Feyd grinned.

[makoodles]

tìtunu | tsu'tey (part 3 | nsfw)

pairing: tsu'tey x human fem reader

word count: 12k words (oops)

warnings: alien courting rituals, misunderstandings, oral sex (fem receiving), size difference, p in v sex (get some, big boy!)

summary: Perhaps the Sky People had injured him beyond repair when they had hurt him and pushed him from their enormous metal bird. 

That is the only reason he can think of to explain why the one person who has captured his thoughts so wholly is you, the little human demon that is constantly lurking around the Omaticaya camp.

(in which Tsu'tey doesn't consider the cultural differences when it comes to human x navi courting, but is very determined anyway)

read it on ao3

aaaaand i actually got the third part finished early, so i figured i'd just upload it! please peep the rating change (we're officially getting porn in this chapter lmao x).

also! i totally forgot that na'vi also need breathing masks in human spaces, so lets just pretend that their limit for human atmosphere's is WAY higher alright

part one | part two | part three (nsfw) | part four (nsfw) masterlist

You have no idea what’s going on with Tsu’tey, and it’s driving you crazy.

In the beginning, it was crystal clear what he thought of you. Your presence around the village was met with the same curled lips, narrow-eyes, and disdainful scowls that Tsu’tey reserved for all the humans occupying his home planet. You don’t take it personally; you’re only an interloper on Pandora, after all, and you have to work to gain his respect. 

You’re not afraid to admit that you have a big fat crush on him. Who wouldn’t?

He’s one of the most beautiful people you’ve ever seen, alien or not. His face is just so pretty, with such big golden eyes and proud features. His wide, toned shoulders and slim narrow waist send your thoughts scattering to the wind when you’re around him. You’ve tried everything to try and capture his attention. You try makeup, you try wearing one of your silly little sundresses (one of the few luxuries you had brought to Pandora), you try flirty jokes. None of it seems to work.

You’re not sure when the dynamic between you really starts to change, but you certainly notice when it does. His stares began to turn less hostile, although no less intense, and some of his sharp edges had begun to soften. He doesn’t snap as often anymore, he doesn’t insult you all that much (nicknames notwithstanding), and he allows you to follow along beside him some days as he carries out his duties in the village. He remains as stoic and inexpressive as ever in your presence, but it’s thrilling for you that he doesn’t simply send you away when you try to spend time with him.

But the real catalyst seems to be the night he had tried to feed you with food cooked from the village’s own cook fire, and you had so rudely vomited it right back up. It was one of the most mortifying moments of your whole life, and you’re certain that he’ll never forgive you for it. 

He ignores you for days afterwards, retreating into the village and refusing to come and see you even when you try to seek him out. It’s humiliating, but the cold shoulder doesn’t last for too long. However, what comes after that is even more confusing.

The man runs so hot and cold that dealing with him feels like suffering from constant whiplash. One minute he’s ignoring you, the next he’s seeking you out in the forest and sending away the other scientists just so he can make you watch him fish. Then he’s bringing you little gifts and you start to think that maybe, just maybe, he’s actually picked up on your crush on him. 

Is it insane to wonder if perhaps he might actually return your interest? You’re desperate enough that you’d accept any sort of interest from him, even if it was just morbid curiosity. It probably doesn’t bode well for your self-respect, but you think that you’d be quite content to be the subject of his experimentation, if that’s what he wanted.

The necklace is what makes you really start to wonder what the fuck is going on.

It’s beautiful, Na’vi in make and design, and it fits you so perfectly that it’s like it’s been made especially for you. You fall in love with it the moment he presents it to you, unable to believe that something so lovely has been crafted with you in mind. 

And then, after having been gifted with the jewelry, he lets you touch him more intimately than you’ve touched anyone since you came to Pandora. You can hardly believe your luck – he’s usually so harsh, so firm and unrelenting, that you thought he would crush you like a bug underfoot if you ever dared to touch him so familiarly. But he lets you, encourages you even. 

You think you may have blacked out a little from the sheer thrill of touching his velvety blue skin, the firm definition of his pectorals, his narrow waist, and his soft, whip-like tail.

But you must have gone too far, because he had whipped away from you like you were diseased. He had practically fled from you, throwing some lame excuse about seeing you tomorrow as he ran.

It’s humiliating. If you had any sense, you would keep to yourself for a few days after you had groped him so boldly. 

And yet, you find yourself wandering the forest just outside the Na’vi settlement the following day. 

You’re close enough to the village that Tsu’tey could find you if he wanted, but you also have enough distance to preserve some of your dignity – you really don’t want him to think you’re stalking him. If anyone happens upon you, you can say that you’re gathering samples to study. That’s your job as a xenobotanist here, after all.

As you wander the area close to the village, you catch a glimpse of a group of bladder polyps that poke out of the dirt in regular intervals. Utterly captivated, you sink to your knees for a better look.

They look just like blue rocks, but you know that the Na’vi use them as a food source both for them and for their animals. They’re glowing a much brighter colour than the usual dull blue that you’ve reported on the little glowing plants before, and their bioluminescence is pulsing in slow, soothing intervals.

You are, after all, a professional, and your scientific curiosity outweighs your desire to wander until you ‘accidentally’ stumble across the large, handsome warrior you had become so enamoured with. You shuffle onto your belly, personal mission abandoned, and begin watching the behaviour of the plant life in wide-eyed awe.

Luckily you bring your field kit with you everywhere, and it’s with poorly disguised eagerness that you dig it out from where it’s clipped to the belt on your utility trousers. It’s difficult to get as close a look at the polyps as you’d like thanks to the damned breathing mask, but you’re still able to press your face right up to it as you begin tracing out a rudimentary field sketch.

You’ve never seen the bioluminescence act quite like this, pulsing in a regular sort of rhythm like rolling waves, and you jot down as many notes as you can in a messy, excitable scrawl. After just observing the soft pulsing phosphorescence for a little while, you manoeuvre yourself onto your belly and wrestle your tablet out of your rucksack. Laying flat like this isn’t the most ideal position for you to be in from a security standpoint, but it’s the only way that you can get the angle you want for the video that you want to take.

There’s no telling how long you had been laying there, watching the little plants pulsate with soft light. You think you might fall into some sort of daze, because you lose track of time as you fall into the familiar, comforting routine of documenting the flora’s behaviour. But your peace doesn’t last forever.

You’re not sure what it is that pulls your focus away from your work. It’s not like there’s any sudden noise or real change in your surroundings to catch your attention, but you feel the sudden and unavoidable weight of someone’s gaze resting on your back, and you yank your head up to try and find it, blinking.

For a moment, you wonder if you had imagined it. But then a figure moves in the trees to your left, and your heart lurches as your brain finally processes the appearance of the large, semi-camouflaged form of the Na’vi watching you.

“Tsu’tey!” You blurt, staring up at him with wide, startled eyes.

He’s looking down at you with an odd sort of look on his face, his head tilted to the side as he watches you. He doesn’t look all too impressed to see you laying out on the ground on your belly.

“What are you doing down there, Säsrätx?” He asks, one of his ears twitching.

Säsrätx. It’s one of his many nicknames for you – it means annoyance. It lacks the bite that it used to have. Now, he sounds almost fond. Or maybe that’s just your hopeless optimism hearing things.

When you don’t immediately explain, he frowns. “You will get yourself killed, alone in the forest like this.” 

That rankles a little. You’re aware that you don’t look like much now, considering that you’re just over half his height and covered in mud from laying on the ground, but you’re capable of handling yourself. You’ve been working with Pandoran flora for nearly two years now, after all.

You frown, a little offended. “I’m studying the plants.”

When you point at the bladder polyps at your feet, he follows your finger and his expression turns a little scathing. He doesn’t appear very impressed with your work.

“That is rawp.” He says, eyeing the mud stains down your front. “It grows from animal waste.”

You freeze. “What?”

Mortification settles like a thick cloud over you. This is just fucking typical. First you vomit in front of him, then you grope him and make him uncomfortable, and now you show up in front of him covered in shit. This is just perfect.

“Oh god,” You whisper, pulling at your standard-issue tank top as your body grows hot and prickly with embarrassment. 

You want to sink into the ground, to hide yourself from his intense golden eyes, but that humiliation wars with professional curiosity and the thrill of learning something new.

“So it uses manure as a direct food source?” Your fingers twitch towards your journal so you can record the information. “That’s rare, even for a halophyte! And it’s edible, right?”

Tsu’tey’s expression flickers for a second, before falling into scowling disapproval. “Vrrtep, stand up out of the dirt.”

You hardly hear him, too busy peering at the roots of the polyps. “What are the root systems like?”

Before you can get properly absorbed in your observations, two large hands enclose around your upper arms and you yelp loudly as you’re tugged to your feet. He is easily twice your size, and the casual display of strength sends a thrill of excitement rushing through you and leaves you breathless as you’re set on your feet. 

You stare at him like a total moron now that you’re standing in front of him again. God, he’s so tall, so strong and pretty, and his little white luminescent freckles are glowing in the shade of the forest.

“You are dirty.” He mutters, reaching out tug at your soiled top.

Your toes curl in your shoes. “Um- yeah. Sorry.”

His eyes fall on your neck, still adorned with the choker-like necklace he had given you only the day before. His expression flickers, and his hand drifts from your top to your jewellery, tracing over the woven plant fibres. 

Your breath catches as you watch him right back, captivated by the strong curves of his face and the sweet little glowing dots all over him. You lean forward without conscious thought, relishing the feeling of his huge hand tracing around your throat and chest.

But just as you’re beginning to get excited, he hastily removes his hand. 

“Come with me.” He says, his voice low and calm and rumbly. “I will show you my hut, and clean you up.”

Your heart leaps, and you nod immediately. God, how could you refuse him that? He’s inviting you back to his house so he can clean you up. You can only pray that he’s giving you the signals that you think he is, and that you’re not reading too much into things.

Unlike the last few times you’ve followed Tsu’tey around the forest, padding along behind him as he bizarrely keeps his back entirely and firmly turned to you, this time he reaches out and takes a hold of your arm. He keeps his grip firm but light, not enough to hurt but enough to guide you firmly and keep you by his side. 

As you stagger along at his side, your brain gets stuck on the heat of his very large hand on your arm. He’s so strong and so much bigger than you, and you feel supremely stupid for the way that you’re blushing. You absolutely hate yourself for the places that your thoughts are currently jumping to.

You’re so busy eyeing the way his very long fingers curl around your arm that you don’t look where you’re going, and end up tripping over one of the large roots that stick out of the ground. If not for his hold on you, you likely would have fallen on your face. 

He says something in Na’vi that sounds like a curse, and then grabs at your other arm with his free hand before you hit the ground. Using both hands, he hauls you up with an ease that makes your stomach quiver.

“You are like blind talioang, crashing around and making noise like a fool,” He says. Though his words are harsh, his tone sounds almost amused. “Are you hurt?”

“No.” You stay, sounding distinctly strangled. “I’m good.”

He hums in acknowledgement, and doesn’t pull his hands away from you. His thumb strokes over your upper arm in a movement that seems absent-minded, but sends your hopes soaring. That’s an incredibly familiar gesture, right? That can’t just be platonic, surely?

You have to snap back into yourself, trying to regain some sense. You’re hot and sweaty and frazzled from the jungle air, and he’s just found you laying in animal shit. He is definitely not looking at you with any sexy undertones right now, as much as you’d like him to be. The kindness of his gesture in bringing you back to clean you up should be enough for you.

Tsu’tey’s tree hut is, as it happens, located in one of the enormous trees just at the edge of the village. The Omaticaya have built their temporary settlement around the Well of Souls, their houses located high up in the foliage and branches of the forest above them. It is impressive engineering and craftsmanship, and you stare up at the wooden structures with awe as you approach.

However, a problem reveals itself to you as you get close to the tree where Tsu’tey’s home has been built.

“How do we get up to it?” You ask, tilting your head all the way to stare up at the canopy of trees over your head.

At the question, Tsu’tey goes still. In fact he seems to freeze entirely, his muscles tensing and his back going ram-rod straight. The reaction is a little unnerving – you wonder if the question was offensive somehow.

“I-” He begins, and then breaks off. His brow is furrowed, and he looks from you to his hut overhead with a look of dawning frustration mixed with an odd sense of horror. “I had not considered this.”

“Considered what?”

“How you would get up.” His ears twitch as he glares up at the tree as though it’s personally offended him. His head snaps back to you, his tail lashing around his ankles. “I will fix this.”

“Oh,” You blink, surprised by his consideration. There’s no real reason he should be that concerned about you being able to get you to his house, but you find yourself smiling at his kindness all the same. “Don’t worry about it.”

“It is not worry,” He says firmly, bending down so that he is looking you straight in the eye. His expression is solemn and intense. “It is a promise. I will fix this.”

“Okay.” You say. It sounds as though you’ve just been punched in the stomach. God, does he even know how he sounds right now?

He’s so damn intense, but you decide to take a chance. You swallow thickly, and make a suggestion that you pray isn’t going to get you punched. 

“I could, um…” You begin haltingly, “You could probably lift me up, right? You’re pretty big, and strong, and-” He turns to look at you, his expression as carefully neutral as ever, and you falter. “Or- you know what, that’s a terrible idea, never mi-”

You don’t even get to finish. Tsu’tey steps forward and reaches for you, and in a movement that sends your head spinning he picks you up and tosses you over his shoulder. You let out a startled squeal and grab at his shoulders, clutching at his neck as he steps forward and begins to haul himself up the tree.

You had meant that he could carry you piggy-back-style, not in a fireman’s carry, but you can’t find it within yourself to complain. You’re a little preoccupied with the flexing muscles in his back and the bulge of his biceps, and when one of his large hands wraps around your upper thigh under your ass to keep you steady you damn near jolt right out of his arms..

By the time he reaches the upper branches where his hut has been built, you feel as though you’re about to squirm right out of your skin. His hand is so big and warm and rough, and though he’s just trying to make sure that you don’t fall off his shoulder to your death, you can’t help but imagine his hands on you in other, more intimate situations.

By the time he reaches the upper branches where his hut is and sets you back down on your feet, you feel as though you’re about to lose your mind. You’ve never necessarily had a size kink before, but right now you feel as though you’re going insane.

You half-stagger as you attempt to keep your balance now that you’re standing, and Tsu’tey places his hand at the base of your spine to steady you. You flush with embarrassed heat, and look up at his face – he looks as implacably indifferent as ever, which makes you wonder if you’re imagining the tension between the two of you.

“Come,” He murmurs, reaching for your hand so he can tug you into the enclosed space of his hut. “I have something for you.”

You perk up at that, excited. “Another gift?”

Finally, his expression shifts to something other than neutral calm. He looks pleased, a little smirk tugging at his mouth.

“Yes.” He says simply.

You beam, delighted. The Na’vi as a people seem to have a culture that revolves around gift-giving. You can’t count the amount of little flowers and cute rocks that you’ve been given from the Na’vi children that run around, and you happily save everything you receive. But the gifts from Tsu’tey are so thoughtful, and mean so much more than any of the other little trinkets you receive from the children.

When you step into the woven reed-like lean-to, you pause. The inside of Tsu’tey’s home is nothing like what you had expected. The Na’vi are usually fans of wide-open spaces and open skies, and their homes are usually open-plan and sparse inside due to all their spare time being spent outdoors. But Tsu’tey’s home is cosy, the floors and walls cushioned with spongey leaves and woven mats. 

From the ceiling, bioluminescent flowers and plantlife hang in bunches like tiny little fairy lights, and your mouth drops open admiringly as you step in and gaze around. There are gaps in the woven walls, allowing for an airy atmosphere and a beautiful view of the forest and the village below. The whole place is beautiful.

You turn back to Tsu’tey, and you’re startled to find that he’s already watching you. He’s barely even blinking, watching every expression on your face with near-frightening intensity. It looks as though he’s waiting on you to say something, and you realise that you should be polite and compliment his home.

“It’s so beautiful here,” You say earnestly, offering him a smile. “Wow. You must have spent forever decorating! It’s incredible.”

Tsu’tey relaxes, tension leaking out of his shoulders so obviously that it’s almost comical. His tail is raised and his ears are high and alert – not for the first time, you wish you were able to interpret Na’vi body language.

“You like it.” He says quietly. He sounds pleased, which makes you flustered in return – it’s terribly flattering that your opinion matters so much to him.

“Oh, I love it!” You’re probably hamming it up a little at this point, but sue you. You’re all alone with a huge sexy blue alien that has been touching you in a potentially suggestive manner, and you’ve already humiliated yourself several times in front of him. You don’t think you can be blamed for trying to redeem yourself a little here.

Tsu’tey’s ears twitch again, and his expression seems to lighten a little. He still looks pretty serious and scowly, but his eyes are softer now.

His home is only made up of one room, and most of the space is taken up by what looks almost like a bed, but it’s not like the usual hammock-type pieces that the Omaticaya usually sleep in. This piece is made from plant fibres, just like most things that the tribe uses, and it looks almost like a makeshift mattress. It’s huge, bigger than even a big guy like Tsu’tey would need, and it looks impossibly soft. You stare at it curiously. Why would Tsu’tey use something like that? He’s always struck you as somewhat of a traditionalist.

Tsu’tey is still watching you, so you tear your eyes away from the bed and smile bashfully at him.

“Um.. could I get cleaned up?” You ask. You’re beginning to get seriously self-conscious in your soiled clothes – even through your exo-mask you can smell the animal waste.

He hums. “Demanding thing.”

It doesn’t sound like a complaint – if anything, his mouth is twitching. He turns and makes his way towards the bed structure, leaving you flustered and embarrassed. There’s something laying on the bed; you only notice it when he pulls it carefully up into his hands and turns around to present it to you.

At first, you think it is tendrils from one of the purple plants you’ve seen in the forest. But then you look closer and realise that the tendrils are beaded, and the full thing begins to take shape. He’s offering you clothes. Na’vi clothes.

It would be rude not to take them, so you accept them and peer closer at the fabric. It is very pretty, a soft lilac colour, but you can’t imagine how on earth it’s meant to go on you. There don’t appear to be any straps. The loincloth is simpler, more similar to Tsu’tey’s, but you feel yourself growing warm just at the thought of changing into this in front of the big man in front of you.

He’s still watching you closely, looking for any reaction, and you really don’t want to disappoint him. For some reason, you feel that it’s incredibly important to react correctly right now.

“Thank you.” You say politely, before fidgeting a little. “Um..”

You wait a moment, before realising that he’s not going to turn around. Why would he? The Na’vi do not share the same sense of self-consciousness about their bodies or nudity that humans have, and no doubt he would be confused if you asked him to look away.

You clear your throat, and push your inhibitions aside. He’s not going to care – to him, it’s just a strange alien body in front of him.

You start with your cargos. Wriggling your way out of them, you leave them on the floor as you slip into the loincloth material. You leave your panties on for comfort and a little added security. To your surprise, the loincloth fits perfectly.

Next comes your soiled tank top, and you pull that overhead and drop it to the floor with the trousers. You hesitate a moment before unclipping your bra and adding that to the pile too, but that’s as far as you get on your own.

You look back to Tsu’tey a little nervously. He’s still watching you, though he has stepped back and sunk down to sit on his hunkers near the bed. Even hunkering like that, he’s as tall as you. It feels like being watched by a large predator, and you feel blood rush to your head as you raise your arms nervously to cover your breasts.

“Could you help me put this on?” You whisper. It’s loud in the thick atmosphere that lays between you, and for the first time you notice the way his hands are gripping his thighs.

He doesn’t answer verbally. Instead he beckons you over, and you step mincingly closer before handing the chest covering back to him.

“There are no straps.” You laugh a little breathlessly, fighting to sound casual. “I can’t figure it out.”

Tsu’tey’s big hands are beginning to feel familiar to you, and you can’t figure out whether you want to relax into him or tense from the electrifying touch. You hold your breath as he reaches out and begins to fix the tendrils over your breasts and around your neck.

His touch feels positively searing. You have to keep fighting to remind yourself that this is non-sexual for him – he’s just doing you a favour by helping you out with the clothes. You don’t want to be an absolute freak by making it weird.

If it weren’t for the fact that Tsu’tey’s large hands keep brushing your tits, you might be a little bit more interested in the way the tendrils that make up the top adhere to your skin. As it is, all you can do is stare at him like a total moron. He is so close like this, allowing you to gaze at his face and take in all the details you’ve never noticed before.

“There.” He says quietly, and his breath ghosts over your skin. “That is better.”

The garments hardly offer you any coverage at all, and you can feel the heat in your cheeks as he drops his gaze down the length of your body to examine how it fits you. 

You clear your throat and step back before you do something terribly stupid like lean forward to kiss him. You’re terribly flustered, and you have no idea what to do with your hands. The worst part is that no matter how embarrassed you get, Tsu’tey remains completely calm and unflappable with his cool expression. 

You’re hyper-aware of the fact that you had literally been rolling in shit, so you move to your utility trousers and begin rooting around in some of the enormous pockets. It’s embarrassing that you’re so aware of how you smell, but you dig out the small bottle of body spray you’ve been carrying around everywhere with you. It’s sweet vanilla scented, and it’s probably a pretty pathetic attempt to make yourself appear more attractive to him, but you’re really grasping at straws here. You spritz it quickly on your neck before turning back to him. The sweet smell makes you feel a little more confident, and you face him with a little smile. 

“It’s very pretty,” You say, stroking over the velvety soft material of the loincloth around your waist.

Tsu’tey looks smug, but only for a moment. Then his expression turns confused, and his nose wrinkles.  

“What is that?” He asks.

“What?”

He leans forward, and you stare up at him with big, hopeful eyes as he comes close to you. “You smell… strange.” 

You blink. “Oh. Sorry, I just- I sprayed perfume.” Your smile turns hopeful. “Do you like it?”

His eyes are so big and so golden, it feels as though you could just fall right into them and get lost forever. God, you’re down so bad.

“No.” His nose wrinkles. “I do not like it.”

“Oh.” You say again. Your stomach sinks a little – you’re beginning to feel like a total idiot. You can’t even get it off now that you’ve sprayed it on yourself. Fuck, it’s like all you can do is continuously sabotage yourself.

Tsu’tey takes a single step back, and for a wild moment you panic thinking that you now smell so repulsive to him that he’s attempting to escape. As it turns out though, he’s only stepping back so that he can take a look at you in the thin top and tiny loincloth. You’re practically nude – the top is little more than a decorative nipple cover, and the loincloth seems to have been fashioned for someone your size from half a regular loincloth. You probably look ridiculous, and you feel mortifyingly exposed under his intense gaze.

“Do I look like a Na’vi?” You joke in an attempt to cover your awkwardness. You even hold your arms out like you’re showing off your new outfit, despite how naked you feel.

“No, ma’yawntutsyìp.” Tsu’tey says with a snort, fixing one last strand of your top before withdrawing his hand. “You are too odd-looking for that.”

Oh.

You are unfamiliar with the word he’s just called you, but the second half of what he’s said has your stomach plummeting to your feet.

You feel your smile freeze on your face. “Oh! Right!”

Oh shit, you’ve never felt like such a fucking idiot before in your life. How stupid of you. Why would you even ask that, what were you expecting him to say in response?

He tilts his head, eyes narrowing at you. He must have noticed your change in demeanour, but judging by his big eyes and the flick of his ears he can’t figure out why your mood has changed.

You feel like an idiot, so you just force a smile. It probably just looks like a grimace, so you hurriedly clear your throat.

“Thank you very much for the clothes.” You say. “And for showing me your home. Um. It’s all very lovely and very kind of you. But I should go now.”

Tsu’tey has been listening to you carefully, but his brow collapses into a frown when you finish speaking. 

“I did not mean to-” He begins, and his voice has taken on an odd sort of tone of contrition. For some reason that’s even more mortifying than everything else, and you rush to cut him off.

“It’s fine!” You say quickly. “No worries, really! I just- I should be getting back.”

Tsu’tey hesitates, his gaze dropping from your face to the necklace around your throat, before clenching his jaw and nodding.

“Very well.” He says, a little stiffly. “I will take you back.”

The new science outpost is pretty janky in comparison to the state of the art technology that had made up Hell’s Gate, but it’s home all the same and the other scientists there watch your comings and goings with the tired exasperation of a vaguely disapproving auntie or uncle. It’s difficult to find any real privacy, so they end up aware of your interests whether you want them to be or not. That just so happens to include any embarrassing crushes.

The outpost itself is just one long prefabricated building, sectioned inside with steel walls into laboratories and workspaces, and a large open area for living. In an attempt to achieve some level of personal privacy, most people have erected makeshift curtain walls and hung them from the ceiling to section their bunks off from the rest of the space.

You spend the next several days hiding out in your own little curtained off bed bunk, trying to smother your mortification under your pillows. The other scientists exchange knowing glances (it’s not as though your crush on Tsu’tey was a secret), but mercifully they’ve decided to leave you alone. You spend days wallowing in self-pity as you attempt to stitch together the scraps of your dignity. You only emerge from your curtained off little living area to get food or use the bathroom and shower before scurrying back into the safety of your private area. You can’t escape the feeling that the other inhabitants of the science outpost find your embarrassment terribly funny.

It’s difficult not to feel discouraged. You’ve been trying so hard to drop hints and send out tentative feelers in an attempt to determine how receptive Tsu’tey may be to your feelings, yet you find yourself at a total loss. 

You had really thought he was interested when he started giving you all those little gifts and bringing you foraging and fishing with him, and you had been certain that he meant something by giving you the pretty necklace that you now never took off, but now you’re just not sure. You’ve embarrassed yourself so many times in front of him, and he thinks you’re weird looking, so why would one of the most handsome, brave, and skilled warriors in the clan be in any way interested in a Sky Person like you?

And yet he’s gotten so touchy recently! You groan into your pillow – you have to wonder if perhaps you’re reading too much into things just because you want him to be interested in you.

On the fourth day of your self-imposed exile in your bed, you hear your name called by one of the older botanists who’s working out in the main laboratory. You elect to pretend you didn’t hear her. You hope that perhaps she’ll give up if you don’t answer immediately.

It doesn’t work. In fact, she simply calls your name again, louder this time. Oddly, she sounds a little bit more frantic this time, too.

“What?” You shout back, voice muffled by your pillow.

“Come here! He says he won’t leave until-”

The scientist’s voice is cut off by a louder, deeper, familiar voice.

You shoot up in bed, nearly knocking the laptop playing comfortingly old human films right onto the floor. That sounds like- but there’s no way-

“Wait!” Comes another scientist’s frantic voice. It sounds like Norm. “You can’t just-!”

The curtain that sections your own makeshift space from the rest of the living area is pulled back with such force that the whole wire fixing it to the ceiling snaps and it all goes tumbling to the floor. Standing there (although standing may not be entirely accurate considering he is hunched over almost comically in order to fit inside the space) is Tsu’tey.

You nearly scream. You’re just laying around in your unmade, messy bed in nothing but an enormous t-shirt and an old pair of underwear, your hair is a mess, and you’re pretty sure there’s crumbs all over the mattress. This is most certainly not the sexy, attractive image you would like him to have of you.

“What the fuck-!” You start to yell, panicked.

Norm is standing just behind Tsu’tey, glancing from you to the huge Na’vi man with an expression that suggests he would like nothing more than to disappear. Without his Avatar’s body, he looks hopelessly tiny next to Tsu’tey.

“Will I- should I go and get Jake-?” He asks uncertainly, darting a look in your direction.

“No.” Tsu’tey snaps with such force that Norm looks as though he’s about to get bowled over. “No Jakesully.”

“Got it.” Norm squeaks.

Tsu’tey turns to you again, his expression collapsed into a visibly frustrated scowl. “You will talk to me.”

You swallow thickly. You’re pretty sure he’s furious with you, but damn. He looks so good like this, all scowly and strong and pretty. The cramped interior of the science outpost makes him look even bigger, and your eyes are stupidly drawn to the contours of his chest and abs.

“Got it.” You echo Norm, though even more pathetically.

Norm wavers where he’s standing. “Right. You’ve got this sorted, then?”

“Uh.” You say, a little hesitantly. “Yeah. I got this.”

Tsu’tey turns his scowl on Norm, and it intensifies tenfold. “Leave.”

Norm doesn’t wait to be told twice. He practically scampers away, and after he disappears from sight you can hear the heavy, pressurized door to the living area whoosh shut. In the ensuing silence, you can hear him yelling at everyone to get out. You realise he’s clearing everyone out of the outpost; your stomach gives a nervous sort of tremble at the thought.

Tsu’tey steps forward, still looming over despite the way he’s hunching, and you scramble to get out of bed and straighten out your oversized t-shirt.

“I- I’m sorry, it’s a mess in here-” You blabber. Ridiculously, you find yourself attempting to make your bed.

“Sit.” Tsu’tey intones, and your legs practically buckle beneath you without conscious thought as you take a seat on the edge of your mattress.

You thought that Tsu’tey would be even angrier once he was alone with you, but the opposite appears to be true. He has relaxed slightly, and his expression has shifted a little further towards confused frustration. He comes to a stop just in front of your bed, settling into a crouch at your feet. Even crouching, he is taller than you, and you swallow thickly as you stare back at him.

“You are difficult," he begins with a frown. “And confusing. I do not mind this – it pleases me, on some level. I do not mind that you are demanding. I am capable of pleasing my mate, and I will show you this. But you must tell me what exactly to do to please you. I am not used to Sky People.”

That absolutely blindsides you, and you let out a strange wheezing gasp of disbelief. Mate? Please you? What the fuck is going on? What is he talking about?

He continues before you can demand an explanation. “You have not returned to the village in many days. Have I upset you?”

“I-” you choke, grasping onto one part of what he’s said and disregarding the parts that you’re having trouble understanding. “Difficult? Confusing? I’ve been- I’ve practically been making a fool of myself trying to get your attention!”

His expression changes. “My attention?”

“I’ve been-” Ridiculously, your voice wobbles. “God, this is all just so embarrassing. All I wanted to do was spend time with you. I wanted you to like me. I’ve been trying to make myself look pretty with make-up, I've been trying to wear my nice clothes, but none of it has worked! You hate my perfume, you think I look gross-”

“No!” He jolts forward so rapidly that you startle, shuffling closer to the bed so that he’s eye-level with you.

You take a breath, watching him carefully as he reaches out to lay his hand on the necklace that sits above your collarbones.

“I do not think this.” His voice is rough and low, his eyes fervent as he watches you like he’s begging you to listen to him. “I swear, I do not.”

“You-” Oh fuck, now you’re snivelling like an absolute loser. “You think I’m weird-looking, you said so-”

“No.” Tsu’tey responds. His voice has turned strained and a little frenetic, and he reaches out to grasp your jaw in his enormous hand so he can turn your face to look at him directly. “You are- I think you are lovely. Yuey, ma’yawntutsyìp.”

His hand nearly encompasses your whole face, and you lean into him reflexively as you blink the tears from your eyes. God, you don’t even know why you’re crying. It’s ridiculous, and you’re terrified that Tsu’tey will think you’re a total idiot.

When a single tear overflows and streaks down your cheek, Tsu’tey jolts forward yet again as he places one knee on the bed and climbs up. He’s huge, almost twice your height and width, and yet he’s so gentle as he cups your face and wipes desperately at the tear track. The two of you are pressed close together in the tiny space of your bed, and the proximity makes your breath  catch in your chest.

“Ma’muntxatu,” He murmurs, leaning forward to rest his forehead against yours. He translates, “My mate. I am meant to care for you. Why would you hide yourself from me instead of telling me you were feeling this way?”

Your brain just about grinds to a full halt. This is the second time he’s mentioned the word mate – what the fuck is going on? You stare up at him, almost afraid to ask what he’s talking about in case you ruin the moment.

“I-” You gape at him, bewildered.

“I understand the Sky People have different customs,” Tsu’tey says seriously; his expression suggests he doesn’t regard these customs very highly. “But here, mates share their burdens.”

“Mates.” You repeat with a gasp, head spinning. Is that what’s happening here? 

He hums, and his soft, velvety nose nuzzles at your temple. Despite his size, he handles you with such care that you feel like something delicate to be treasured.

“I do think that you are unusual looking,” He murmurs, his voice so low that it rumbles right into your chest. “But I also find you attractive. You think I would have put effort into courting someone I did not desire?”

Courting. Slowly, all of your interactions over the last few weeks begin to reframe themselves in your head. The little gifts, the hunting, the walks, the increasingly bold touches. The necklace. You had thought that he might perhaps be nudging you to show subtle interest – you had never considered there may be something deeper, such as an alien courting ritual.

And yet, it’s not the mate part that your mind has gotten stuck on. “You desire me?”

He groans, and the sound rumbles through your chest and down into your stomach. “Of course.”

When his hand comes to settle on your necklace again, you swear you nearly combust. He’s done this several times since he had gifted the piece of jewellery to you, but this time the connotations of the touch steal your breath away. His hand is so big that it overlaps the necklace and frames your throat, and you stare up at him with your lips softly parted. 

You realise that this is the first time you’ve been in front of Tsu’tey without your exo-pack. He can breathe your air for far longer than you can breathe his, and now your bare faces are almost touching.

You give into the desire that’s been hounding you for months now, and lean forward to boldly press a kiss to his mouth.

For a split second, you wonder with a thread of panic if you were being too hasty. Were you moving too quickly? Perhaps he didn’t actually want to kiss you-

Your thoughts are cut short, because it’s almost like Tsu’tey was just waiting for you to make the first move. 

He surges into you, his huge hands engulfing your face as he kisses insistently at your lips, nipping lightly at you and humming and purring against your mouth. It’s frantic, passionate, overwhelming, and your eyes practically roll back in your head as you allow him to kiss you stupid.

When one of his big hands drops from your face to your thigh and wraps around the soft flesh there, you let out an embarrassing sort of breathy whimper against his mouth. It feels like the culmination of all your hopes and desperate dreams over the past few months, and you can hardly believe he’s actually kissing and touching you like this. It almost feels like a wild dream.

He pulls back at the sound, and looks at you. He pauses. His ears flick and his pupils flare wide, and in that moment you wonder exactly how much of his body language has flown over your head due to the simple fact that it is alien to you.

His long blue fingers tangle in the thin, worn material of your old oversized shirt. His voice is gruff and gravely when he says, “I do not like this. Where is the tewng I gave you? I want to see you wearing it again.”

“You don’t like my shirt?” You ask, dazed.

“I do not,” He bends his head and nips at the hinge of your jaw, causing you to jerk into him. “You look better in the clothes of the People.”

You laugh breathlessly. “I can- I can take it off.”

“Yes,” He mutters, his ears twitching. “I would like that.”

A thrill runs through you at that. He’s so big and pretty and sexy and he’s sitting in front of you telling you that he desires you – it’s enough to send your head spinning into the atmosphere. You don’t think you’ve ever moved to strip so quickly in your life, and you toss your ugly old shirt to the floor.

A little tremor seems to run through Tsu’tey as he watches you, now laid bare before him in nothing but an old pair of cotton panties. His eyes are burning into you, all molten gold and heat. You’ve never had a partner watch you so attentively, curiously, and appreciatively before.

“Ma’muntxatu,” He whispers. His voice is still low and gravelly, but his tone is cautious. “What comes next is mating, fully. If you are not ready-”

“I’m ready.” You gasp stupidly. God, you don’t think you’ve ever been so ready for anything in your life. You’ve been dreaming for months about being given a chance with him, and you’d literally rather die than waste this opportunity.

Tsu’tey has always been pretty difficult to read. His facial expressions tend to be pretty limited to scowls and smug smirks, but even now you can spot the brightening of his eyes. His smile has an excited edge to it, and the luminescent freckle-like dots that cover his face seem to glow brighter in the dim alcove of your bunk.

His palm is big and rough and warm when it comes up to settle over your exposed breasts, and you arch your back to try and push further into his hands. Tsu’tey is tall. Taller than any other partner you ever had before, and that alone does things to you. He dwarfs you as he leans over you, and when he climbs fully onto the bed with you the springs creak ominously. His mass hunches over you, and makes you feel tiny as his head drops down to nuzzle at your bare belly.

You make a strangled little sound, your thoughts whiting out at the idea of his huge hands touching you properly. God, you’re so wet and so stupid.

He rumbles again, deep in his chest. “I can smell you, ma’yawne. You smell so sweet.”

His fingers hook into the hem of your underwear. For a moment he seems to get distracted by the soft cotton fabric, pulling at it curiously, before he gets impatient and starts tugging at them earnestly. There’s an ominous ripping sound, and you feel the cheap stitching give way until his strong hands.

“Holy fuck.” You breathe, staring up at him with wide eyes. He’s just torn your fucking panties right off you.

He buries his face into the juncture of your shoulder and lays a hot, biting kiss on your throat, leaving you hot and shuddering beneath him. His lips travel to the sensitive flesh just beneath your jaw just as one of his hands enclose around the soft flesh of your upper thigh.

“You are very soft,” He breathes, his nose tracing a path down your neck to your sternum, right between your breasts. “Softer than anything I’ve ever felt. You are so- I do not know the word. You are… less firm, than Na’vi women.”

You gasp a laugh as his fingers brush your nipples. “Squishy, is the word I think you’re looking for.”

When his palm lays over your breast, the dry roughness of his hand covers almost from your navel to your collarbones. Your whole body clenches at the thought of even one of his big fingers inside you. You can’t even bring yourself to be embarrassed at the pathetic little noise that’s escaped you, because the sound brings a smug little grin to his face. 

“Squishy.” He repeats, and he sounds approving. His trailing hands leave tingles in their wake, and it’s so overwhelming that you don’t know whether to push into them or shy away.

“Touch me,” You whisper, thighs splaying open as his wide frame settles between your legs. “Please-”

You don’t need to plead; he moves to do as you ask immediately, his hand sliding down to cup your sex between your legs. You’ve only just started to relax into the mattress, delighted with the contact, when he pulls back and pushes himself down further.

To your bewilderment, he lays one of his hands on the inside of your knees and pushes it to the side. You move to sit up, exposed and mortified, but his grip on your legs keep you pinned in place. His head ducks down, and he squints at your pussy. 

“What are you doing!” You yelp, mortified.

“I wanted to see if you looked the same as a Na’vi down there-” He cuts himself off when you slap at his head, pulling back with an offended frown as he catches your swinging hands. “Why are you hitting me?”

“Stop looking at me like that!” You hissed, hot from a shameful sort of arousal. “It’s embarrassing!”

Tsu’tey’s grin turns wolfish, and you just have time to take a breath before he leans in and murmurs, “I plan to do more than look, little demon.”

His long thumb rubs soothing, maddening circles around your clit and making your hips jump to try and increase his pace. The rhythm is nice, but it’s not nearly enough.

“Can you-” You start, brow furrowing as you reach for him. Your hands settle on his shoulders, and you pull ineffectually at him. “Please, I want to touch you too-”

He presses a kiss to your lower belly, and you feel the scrape of his teeth against your naked belly. He’s grinning.

“I knew you were a demanding little thing.” He whispers against your stomach, before biting at your hip bone and making your hips jump again. “Be patient.”

“Okay.” You choke out stupidly, struggling to keep yourself still.

The next kiss Tsu’tey gives you is directly between your legs, right where you’re growing wet. It's such a surprise that you choke a cough, hips jolting towards him without conscious thought. The beads in his braids trail over your bare skin, tickling you.

Tsu’tey just sends you a tiny lopsided smirk, as though he knows exactly how desperate you are right now. A single dimple appears in his cheek, before it disappears from sight as he buries his entire face between your legs.

Your entire body jerks in surprise. His tongue is hot and wet and so much bigger than any human tongue you’ve ever experienced. The texture is a little rougher too, and as he licks at you it feels like liquid fire erupts through your nerves. Your hips twitch and chase after his touch, but he keeps you in place with a single big hand spread across your belly.

"Oh my god," You gasp, tilting your head back into the mattress. "Oh fuck-"

You can feel the bastard's smile pressed up against your core, but only for a moment before he licks all up the length of your pussy. You’ve never felt anything like this before — it's red-hot molten pleasure, and he’s so big that it feels like the whole world starts and ends with his mouth and his tongue.

When he pulls back, only an inch or so, you nearly cry out in protest.

“Hush,” He murmurs, turning his head so that his lips brush against your inner thigh. 

"Tsu’tey," You gasp, bare chest heaving. "Please-"

You hardly even know what you’re asking for, but you bury your fingers in his neat braids and hold on tight. He seems to take your grip on his hair as encouragement, because he makes a rumbly sound in your throat and sucks at your clit hard.

You let out a little scream, startled and overwhelmed by how unbelievably good that feels. Your back arches right off the bed as you push into Tsu’tey’s mouth; you don't even have time to worry that you might be too insistent, because his hands only hold your thighs spread with ease. He even takes both of her legs and tucks them over his shoulders — whether it's to give himself a better angle to lick at you at or whether it's to allow you to hump against his face easier isn't clear, but you appreciate it all the same.

Distantly you’re aware that Tsu’tey’s own hips are moving against the mattress, and you let out another soft moan at the realisation that he’s rutting against your bed as he licks into you. His rough, wet tongue rasps against your clit in a way that is so damn overwhelming that you feel like you’re melting, a thin layer of sweat glittering on your skin as you writhe against his face.

When one of Tsu’tey’s big fingers begin to press into you, you let out a truly pathetic sort of moan. Even a single one of his fingers offers a stretch that has you squeezing your eyes and rocking into him eagerly. His mouth is so hot and eager and big that it feels as though he’s trying to swallow you whole even as his single finger cautiously stretches you wide.

"Tsu’tey," You manage to say, your voice high and wavering. "I want- I want you to.."

He lets out a soft noise against you, then pulls back to look at you with wide, shining eyes. He licks his mouth like a cat with cream, and blinks innocently.

"What do you want, ma’yawne?" He asks, his voice rough. Though his mouth has pulled back, his fingers continue kneading insistently at your pussy.

"I want-" You say, then choke a gasp as a second finger begins to push into you, your legs squeezing tight around his hand. "Just- I just want you to-"

Tsu’tey bends his head and curls his tongue against you again, focusing on your clit. "Just what? You must tell me how to please you-"

"Oh, for fuck’s sake!" You curse, slapping at his shoulders as impatience wars with pleasure in your lower belly. "Have sex with me, dickhead!"

His expression goes slack momentarily with surprise, before he laughs breathlessly. 

“Yes,” He whispers, his teeth bared in a feral sort of smile. “I can do this.”

He sits up then, towering over you as he reaches down to remove his tewng in one smooth movement. You get distracted by his sleek muscles and slim waist, and you reach out automatically to stroke a hand over his warm velvety skin. He shudders slightly under your fingers, and reaches eagerly to pull you right up off the bed and into his arms as he settles back against the mattress with you atop him.

God, the size difference between you sets your head spinning; you end up straddling his thighs, your legs splayed out on either side of his narrow hips as he keeps your naked body pressed tight against his. You’re so wet and needy still that all you can do is rock desperately against him – the length of his cock is pressing against your thigh, hot and hard, and you squeeze your eyes shut tight as you realise just how big he is. Fuck, is he even going to fit?

Apparently, Tsu’tey is thinking the same thing. 

“You are small,” He murmurs as he noses at your sweat-slick temple. “I do not want to hurt you.”

A lightbulb moment strikes, and you push gently at his shoulders as you say, “I- hang on, I have-”

He lets you go, albeit reluctantly. When you scramble off the bed, naked as the day you were born, and scurry over to one of the other bed bunks, Tsu’tey reclines back on your mattress and watches you with a heavy, heated gaze. His gaze on you feels like a weight, and you grow flustered as you start pulling out drawers in the dresser you’re searching.

“What are you doing?” He demands – out of the corner of your eye, you can see the way his tail swishes impatiently. He’s so confident in his own nudity that it makes you blush.

“This is Steiner’s bunk, and I know that he has- aha!” You cry out in triumph as you pull out the little bottle of lube you knew he had squirrelled away.

Tsu’tey just blinks blankly at it, clearly not comprehending why exactly you’re so pleased. Despite his confusion, his mouth twitches as you bound back to the bed and leap up to join him. 

You crack the lube open. Admittedly you’re a little too eager, and the gooey liquid leaks all over your hands, but no matter. Judging by the sheer size of the weapon between Tsu’tey’s legs, you’ll need every last drop of that lube. Tsu’tey himself is eyeing the lube mistrustfully, though he doesn’t pull away from you when you reach for him.

“What is it-” He starts to ask, before baring his sharp teeth in a hiss when your slick hand closes around his cock. His hips buck against you so violently that it startles a breathless laugh out of your mouth.

“It’s lube,” You breathe, enraptured by the sight of your own hands stroking his cock. It’s almost comically large in your grip, the same rich blue colour as the rest of him but for the tip which is flushed a pretty pale lilac colour. “It’ll help.”

It doesn’t seem like Tsu’tey is in the headspace to argue, because he just lets out a cut-off little groan before tilting his head back. Encouraged by his reactions, you reach one slick hand down between your legs and begin to stretch yourself out. Truthfully, there’s not all that much work to do. Tsu’tey had already begun stretching you on his own fingers, and you’re so aroused that you open up easily. Besides, you’re a little impatient; Tsu’tey is letting out breathy little pants and bitten-off growls, and you don’t want to wait anymore. 

“Okay,” You breathe, pushing yourself up on his body and swinging your legs around his trim hips. “Okay, okay, let’s go-”

“Easy,” He says quietly. Despite his very obvious signs of arousal, his voice is soothing enough to have you going lax against him. “We will go slow.”

Slow definitely isn’t what you want right now, but he’s right. Judging by the size of his cock where it’s pressing insistently between your legs, slow is the only way you’re going to be successful here.

For a split second, you start to doubt yourself. But then Tsu’tey’s big, four-fingered hands come to settle on your hips, wrapping almost the whole way around you, and your doubt disappears as your stomach clenches in excitement. 

As soon as the head of his cock presses against your folds, you take a breath and hold it. You had wondered if the amount of lube you had used was overkill, but as soon as you begin to bear down you realise that nope, you definitely needed that lube.

Tsu’tey swears, deep and rough as he throws his head back against your bed. The tendons in his neck are straining, but he manages to hold perfectly still as you sit astride him and lower yourself slowly but steadily down his cock.

“Fuck,” You wheeze, grabbing at his broad shoulders for balance. The stretch is intense, almost all-consuming. Your mind has gone blank, thoughts narrowed down to nothing but the size of him as the slow, inexorable stretch of it has your breath catching in your throat.

“Easy,” Tsu’tey says again, but this time he sounds distinctly strained. His self-restraint is admirable – you can see from his clenched jaw, the sweat on his brow, and his shallow breaths that he wants so desperately to move, but he keeps himself entirely still as you attempt to adjust to him.

You’re taking deep, careful breaths. It feels like you’re about to crack, but when you glance down you find that he’s not even halfway in. The stretch is starting to sting, but you’ve been stretched well and the excess of lube is helping to dull it – it’s nothing you can’t breathe through.

Tsu’tey’s fingers flex around your waist, and he lets out a quiet groan as he edges his hips forward, rocking his cock another inch inside of you. When he finally bottoms out inside you, the sweet ache of the stretch has you leaning forward and burying your face into his defined pectorals and groaning into his chest.

“Are you-” He starts, before breaking off with a stifled groan. His hands flex around your waist again, a little rougher than before but not hard enough to hurt, before he starts again. “Are you alright?”

You don’t answer immediately. Truthfully, you’re trying to catch your breath. Your chest is heaving as you pant, and you can feel your own body trying to suck him in further but there’s nowhere else to go because he’s filling you up so completely. The ache is fading, and you find your hips humping back against him subconsciously..

“Yes,” You moan, face still buried in his chest. “Yes, I’m so good.”

Tsu’tey laughs, a breathless little chuckle, and you think it might just be the loveliest sound you’ve ever heard. Encouraged by his reaction, you lift yourself up a few inches so you can ease back down. You repeat the movement a few more times, and then you’ve established a steady pace of fucking yourself on his cock.

Even as you’re riding him though, you can't help but look down to admire the view — the expanse of his torso stretches long and lean beneath you, musculature tensing as you roll and undulate on top of him. His eyes are bright and glassy with arousal as he watches you move, his gaze flicking rapidly over you as though he can't decide what part he wants to watch the most.

Eventually his eyes settle on your face, and he moans softly as you plant your hands on his chest for balance and begin to move faster. The muscles in his thighs ripple as he strains his hips forward to meet yours, though he’s still fighting to keep himself contained. You pay no mind to the way he tries to meet your thrusts, focusing on grinding desperately against him, trying to get his cock to hit just right.

He’s watching you with such fierce interest that it’s overwhelming, and you lean forward to kiss him again. It’s still so surreal that you can kiss him, that this is something he wants to do with you. 

When you lean forward to kiss him, the angle shifts and all of a sudden he's hitting the spot that makes your knees go weak. Your thighs are already burning from the exertion of riding him, and the liquid heat that shoots up your spine every time you sink down on him has your breath catching in your chest. 

Your breathing is beginning to become interspersed with gasping moans as you feel your stomach tightening, the muscles in your legs beginning to clench up. You’re minutes away from getting a cramp in your thighs, but the pressure building in your belly is almost overwhelming. You’re so close, you don't think anything could convince you to stop now.

“I-” You gasp, and your words come out on a whimper. “I’m going to- please, please, please-”

You had been close before, when Tsu’tey had his head buried between your legs with his mouth suctioned to your cunt, but now you swear your vision whites out every time hips grind up into you.

“Yes, ma’yawne,” Tsu’tey grunts, watching your face eagerly, “Go ahead. I have you, I see you.”

When one of his hands creeps between your legs so that he can tease at your clit, you shudder hard. The pressure in your belly begins to tighten into a knot, and the pleasure begins to crest over you.

There’s a soft pressure around your waist, and you realise that his tail has come to wrap around your belly as your orgasm hits you for real. Your eyes roll back and your mouth falls open as you clutch at Tsu’tey’s beaded hair, rocking against him desperately as you shake apart in his arms. Your legs quake so dramatically that you can barely keep moving, and you let out a choked sob as the orgasm rips through you.

You’re still gasping and shivering from the aftershocks when Tsu’tey shoves himself up. His arms wrap tight around your back as he spins, keeping your hips locked together as he switches your positions so that you’re the one on your back beneath him.

“I have to- May I-” He starts, stuttering uncharacteristically. His hips are twitching as though he can’t quite control them, and his eyes are a little glassy as he pants over you.

He looks half-feral, desperate and sweaty and trying so hard to keep himself under control. It’s impossibly sexy, and you nod wildly.

“Yes!” You gasp eagerly. “Yes, you can keep going-”

He doesn’t need any more encouragement than that. One of his hands snakes under your back and curls around your waist to pull you up against him as he begins to set an even, cautious pace. With the other arm, he's balanced himself on his forearm beside your head for leverage as he drives into you, beginning to pick up speed. He’s still being careful not to hurt you even as he begins to lose himself in pleasure. He looks totally blissed out, his eyes a little unfocused as he lets out soft breathy pants.

Tsu’tey grunts, his arms pushing your legs up and to the side, and then suddenly he’s fucking into you for real. All you can do is gasp against him as the breath is driven straight out of your lungs by his desperate humping. Despite the size of him, he fucks you with an ease that is startling – your legs lock around his slim hips as he rocks into you, clutching at him as he quite literally fucks you into your mattress. You find yourself shoved up the bed by his thrusts until you have to throw your arms up to grab the headboard in order to prevent yourself from being driven right into it.

It’s beginning to get overwhelming, your orgasm making you over-sensitive and shivery, but you breathe through it – you want to give him this, and you desperately want to feel him come in you. With shaking hands, you cup his face carefully as he rolls his hips against you, his chest pressed to yours. His eyes flicker open and dart to yours, golden and heated as he pants; it’s so intimate that it nearly steals your breath away entirely.

You’re not sure what drives your next move – truthfully, you think it’s an action borne entirely from instinct. 

With one hand cupping his jaw, your other arm snakes around his shoulders and trails through the braids that are beginning to loosen from the upstyle he had them pulled back. Your fingers tentatively brush against the braid that protects his neural queue – thinking back to the day you had been exploring his body so carefully, you take a chance and tug lightly at the queue.

Tsu’tey’s reaction is almost instantaneous. A moan is punched out of him, and his eyes roll back in his head. His hand flexes and fists into the sheets by your head, his hips stutter and falter as his brow pinches, and then you feel him coming inside of you.

“Oh.” He chokes, his head dropping down to rest between your breasts as his hips roll unevenly, riding out his pleasure in the cradle of your legs. He rocks into you until it grows to be too much for him, and he goes still with his face buried in your tits.

“Fuck.” Is all you can manage to say in reply, closing your eyes and breathing heavily. 

A beat passes, the two of you breathing heavily, before Tsu’tey raises his head to regard you carefully. “Are you okay, ma’yawne?”

Your pussy is feeling achy from being stretched so wide, and you’re definitely going to have trouble walking tomorrow. Your hips ache and your muscles burn, and you lay flopped on the bed like a ragdoll. You’ve never felt so happy in your life.

“Yes,” You whisper to him, a grin beginning to stretch wildly across your face. “I’m amazing, actually.”

Tsu’tey returns your smile, sharp teeth revealed as his full lips peel back in a pleased, feral grin.

Now that he’s stopping fucking into you, the silence that falls over the room makes you realise just how damn loud your mattress springs were. It’s a wonder that the weight of Tsu’tey alone hasn’t brought your whole bed crashing down to the ground.

Tsu’tey must notice the same thing, because he makes a dissatisfied sound as he pulls out of you and moves to settle down beside you. In one smooth move, he pulls you right up against his chest as he lounges back against the pillows as though he belongs there.

“I do not like your kelku,” He mutters, nosing into your sweaty temple before brushing his lips against your skin in a kiss. “It is not suited to you.”

You let out a breathless laugh, allowing your head to drop against his chest heavily as his long, strong fingers begin stroking soothingly over your bare back.

“No?” You ask, closing your eyes as you laze comfortably against the length of his large, nude body. There’s something impossibly comforting about being all wrapped up in the body of someone twice your size that is so dedicated to treating you as though you’re built from spun sugar. You feel like you’re something precious, someone worthy of being protected.

He hums, tracing delicate little shapes in between your shoulderblades. It’s amazing that such big hands could be so gentle, especially considering just how thoroughly he’s fucked you. 

“My kelku is better.” He says decisively, his nose wrinkling in a sneer as he peers up at the snapped wire hanging from the ceiling where he tore your privacy curtain down. “You will be more comfortable there.”

Dear god, was he asking you to move in with him? You raise your head from his chest just so you can blink at him, bewildered. He’s watching you expectantly, ears twitching; he clearly expects a response.

“It’ll be a pain to bring my oxygen reserves for my exo-packs over.” You say, the only thing you can think of.

He makes a face, as though he thinks that is a silly concern. “If you need it, we will bring it.”

As simple as that. You bite back a smile. Well, damn. Why the fuck not? You don’t think you could refuse him anything even if you wanted to, especially when his ears twitch as he awaits your verdict.

“Alright,” You whisper, lips curving. “Your bed definitely looked more comfortable.”

Tsu’tey grins, his eyes bright and fervent as he wraps one arm around your back and hauls you up so that you’re laying flat over the length of his body, your chest pressed to his. He’s so tall that his legs are hanging off the edge of your bed, his feet pressed flat against the floor.

It’s difficult to kiss considering you’re both smiling into each other’s mouths, but it’s also one of the sweetest and most rewarding kisses you’ve ever experienced. 

“Ma’yawntutsyìp.” He murmurs into your mouth, one of his large thumbs brushes your jawline tenderly.

He’s called you that before; right before calling you odd-looking that day that you had gotten so upset and discouraged by what you thought had been unrequited interest. You had assumed it meant something similar to the little nicknames he always used, säsrätx or vrrtep, annoyance and demon.

“What does that mean?” You ask as he kisses you one last time before allowing you to bury your head sleepily in the crook of his neck.

“Precious one,” He translates, and you can feel his sharp smile against the top of your head. The warm weight of his hand comes to settle over the woven necklace around your neck, just like all those times before; this time, you feel the significance of the gesture. “It suits you, my small one.”

[wolfish-trickster]

I want to choose you now

Gojo x fem!reader, Geto x fem!reader

Part 4

Previous part

Word count: 2K

Summary: Gojo comes to you to talk. You and him decide to have a serious conversation again. Both of you make some hurtful freudian slips, but Gojo still tries to win you back.

Warnings: bad grammar (possibly), typos, angst, very little comfort

Taglist: @ilovebattinson @catobsessedlady @tqd4455 @nanao4k

@abcdefghijklmmopqrstuvwxyz @username23345 @www-kiana-mp3 @wirwirfr

Gojo knocked on the old door with probably too much force but he didn't really care.

He was well rested, freshly shaved and nicely dressed. The sky was clear with birds chasing eachother in the air which smelled like fresh flowers. It was a beautiful spring day. If it wasn't for the anxiety and guilt crushing his chest he would call this the ideal weekend.

Some shuffling behind the door and a sound of key unlocking said door later and Gojo was met with his old friend's face.

"Hey Shoko," he tried sounding nonchalant but it came out forced and fake, "is Y/N here?"

"Yes," she said and stood firmly in the free space between the halfway opened door and the doorframe, "will you cause trouble?"

"Don't you know me?" he teased with a nervous smile. Shoko didn't smile. Gojo gulped. "I won't. Promise."

This made Shoko smile. A little bit. "Good, you can come in," she opened the door wider and stepped out of the way.

It's been a while since Gojo's been to this place. Most of his time lately has been devided equally between Geto's and his shared home with Y/N. Well, more or less equally. But even though some furniture got replaced and Shoko rearranged a decoration here and there he could still feel the remnance of the trio they once were. The framed picture of their highschool graduation above the fireplace. The almost unnoticible stain on the carpet from Gojo's messy way of drinking milk after Geto dared him to eat the spiciest chili they could buy. Shoko didn't even change the kitchen table. He could still see that little burned spot from Shoko teaching both Geto and Gojo how to smoke. Gojo smiled when he remembered how both of them coughed like crazy and Geto almost burned down the whole kitchen with his fallen cigarette, hence the burned spot. And right next to it sat...

"Hi," you greeted in a small voice. Even though you tried to have neutral face he could see the sadness behind your eyes. The dissapointment. It fueled Gojo to fight even harder to earn your trust again.

"Can we talk?" He said without a greeting.

You and Shoko exchanged a look he couldn't decipher.

"Is there something to talk about?" You asked in return. Your seemingly neutral expression turned hostile with your eyebrows lowering over your eyes creating a slight scowl.

He realized he should've greeted.

"Yes, there is," he said gently and slowly took a step towards the kitchen table. You didn't flinch or tried to move away from him, which he took as a good sign.

"Like?"

"Us."

You shook your head. "There is no us Gojo."

He felt mild anxiety before. Now he felt like he could throw up.

"You blew it Satoru," said Shoko from behind him, "apologize, make peace and go."

"Since when are you on her side?" He snapped without thinking.

"What the hell Gojo?" you half yelled at him.

His head snapped back at you. "I-I didn't mean it like that. I-" his head kept turning from Shoko to you. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. He needs to play this right. He can't afford another fuck up. "I'm sorry. But can you leave me and Y/N alone for a while?" he turned to Shoko with a pleading look he knew will work on her. He has mastered it over the years. "Please."

Shoko pondered it for a while. In the end she closed her eyes and sighed. "I need to go to class anyways," she said as she passed him to get her phone from where she left it to charge in the kitchen. Neither of you corrected her it's weekend and therefore no school.

After changing from pyjamas she walked to the front door. "Don't wreck my house, okay?"

Gojo didn't know who was this sentence meant for but he still nodded and mouthed a 'thanks'.

The door closed. The air got even more tense somehow. Gojo wanted to say everything at once but he had no idea how to start.

He pointed at the chair that was next to you, question in his eyes behind his black shades.

You nodded.

He smiled in relief and and turned the chair so he was fully facing you but sitting on it backwards as well to have the backrest to hold onto.

"So," he started and pushed the lump in his throat as deep as possible, "I had a talk with Suguru and-" you squirmed in your seat.

"Let me finish!" he quickly said in panic you'd walk out again after mentioning his best friend. "Just please let me finish."

"I didn't say anything," you said calmly.

"Yes but," he realized arguing with you would make the already bad situation even worse. "Nevermind," he looked at the floor. He never realized how much it resembled the one at Suguru's.

"Go on. You talked with Geto and?"

"Right," he nodded, "I talked with him and he made me realize I don't want to loose you. You are very important to me and now I see why you were upset. I admit, I was really spending too much time with him. But, I'm willing to try minimize my time with him and maximize the time I have with you."

You scoffed and smiled, still avoiding looking him in the eyes. "So you needed a third person to realize something was wrong with you?"

Gojo frowned. "There's nothing wrong with me."

You nodded. "Okay, sorry. I worded it wrong. But you understand don't you?"

"Yes, I do," he didn't. But in fear of making it worse he left it at that.

"Good," you leaned back. "At least we're getting somewhere."

He nodded. "Look, Suguru told me there were two types of love, one for friends and other for lovers. All my life I thought there was just one type of love. I was really confused when I first started having feelings towards you. At our first anniversary I realized I even forgot he even existed," a sad chuckle.

"I think," he continued, "that was the point when I wanted to spend more time with him. As to not lose him," he clarified.

Your expression slowly turned from neutral to sad to heartbroken.

"But I'm willing to fix that! As Suguru said you should be loved in a way a girlfriend is and I'll learn just that!"

"Oh, so you only loved me as a best friend till now?" You snapped and finally looked at him.

"No, that's not what I said," he raised his hands, palms turned towards you, as if he was calming down a wild animal. "I just told you I'm willing to work for this and even that isn't good enough for you?"

"Gojo-"

"Satoru."

"Gojo," you frowned at him. "I don't want to be with someone who literally has to learn how to love me."

"But I can do that," he said softly. "I can do that for you. See?" He reached out to wipe the tear slowly making its way down your cheek. "I can-"

You slapped his hand away before it could even touch you. "Why?"

"Huh?"

"Why do you want to be with me so much? You're free to hang out with Suguru as much as you'd like now that you're not with me."

Gojo closed his mouth. Did he hear correctly? "Why did you call him Suguru and not Geto?"

"Oh my god," you rolled your eyes, "that's what stuck with you? Out of all..."

"Answer me! Why are you using his first name and not mine?"

"It slipped out! Don't avoid-"

"Slipped out, my ass," he rubbed the bridge of his nose under his glasses. "Do you like him more than me now? A guy you barely met versus a guy you've been with for three years!"

"Can you stop?!" you cried out.

"Oh, why? Because I hit a sore spot? Did you get bored of me and developed a crush on him instead? Is that why you caused this whole mess in the first place? To break up with me even though I try so-"

"Me?!" You asked in disbelief. "It was you who was never home! And now you're blaming me for that?" your chest kept rising and falling rapidly. You placed a hand on it to calmed it down.

"No, I'm not blaming you for anything. See it's not my fault you had no one but me to fill your time!"

Quiet. You leaned away from him deeper into the chair.

"Y/N, I-" he had no words. How does he fix this. "I didn't-"

"Can you just answer the damn question?" you wiped your tears and gathered enough courage to look him in the eye. "After all of this, why are you still here? Why do you want me back? Don't you hate me?"

He violently shook his head. "No, god no! I could never."

"Then why?"

"You mean a lot to me."

You raised your eyebrows. "And?"

"And..." he needed to buy some time to think. What did you want to hear from him? What words would make you believe he really wants to have you back? "And I love you?"

Sad chuckle. "You're not even sure about that yourself."

"I am!" He argued back and cringed. He must've sounded like a stubborn child to you. "I love you Y/N. I really do. And if you think I don't then teach me what kind of love you want me to have for you."

"I already told you," you groaned. "I don't want you to force yourself to love me. I wnat someone who will want to love me on their own."

"I don't force myself. I really do love you. But it's obviously not enough or the right kind. Please Y/N."

He reached for your hands and even though you pulled them away he still grabbed them and held them. They were cold as ice.

"We felt good together, right? We had fun, we went out, we talked all night long. Don't throw this away. I don't want to be alone."

His hands held yours as if his life depended on it.

"So you just don't want to be alone," you concluded and sniffled.

He shook his head. "No," he wanted to say more but he didn't know what. He wanted you back. To hug you as the two of you fall asleep. To cook with you again. Spend time with you. Even without Suguru. He was ready to try that. He'll be there, just as he said. Gojo tried telling his head and his heart it's okay to neglect Suguru now. Focusing on you will become his priority. He'll do better this time. He begged his mouth to say all of that. And yet.

No words fell. From you nor him.

Clock kept ticking. Sun shone through Shoko's replaced window and created a beautiful rainbow which fell on your joined hands. Gojo smiled. Then something fell on the back of his hand. A tear.

He looked up. You were crying, but your head was also pretty far away. The tear that fell was his. His head maybe didn't know yet. But his heart. It knew.

You freed one of your hands and wiped his cheek. "You know what's the worst though?" you asked through your tears.

"Hmm?"

"It's not how you refuse to aknowledge you were in the wrong. Or how you still want to force Suguru into all of this when it should be just the two of us. It's none of that," you stood up and for the first time someone towered over Gojo and he felt true fear of what was about to come. "It's how you talked so much and yet you never said sorry."

*

"You sure they won't kill eachother there?" Geto asked as he gave Shoko his own lighter. Shoko threw her old one away and gladly accepted her friend's.

"I hope they won't," she slipped a new cigarette between her lips and lit it. This must be her third one in this hour. Right after she left she called Geto to meet up. Gojo was a dear friwnd to both of them. But they took a liking to you too. It hurt Shoko to hear how much of an ass her good friend was but ultimately she sympathized with you more. She hoped Gojo would come to his senses and do the right thing.

"Besides," she breathed out some smoke, "Satoru is a little dense but he isn't stupid. I trust he'll say the right words."

Geto hummed and kept walking.

Shoko pitied him. She was in a fairly difficult position. Gojo was her friend, sure, but so were you. Geto though? Gojo was his best friend since forever and Y/N was the girl he fell in love with. She was there when Geto got drunk one night and blabbed about how much he liked you and how good you were. She only thought it was a cute little crush from his side but after he sobered up she knew. He was speaking nothing but truth.

Even if Shoko knew Geto was much more mature than Gojo and you would much more appreciate him in the future Geto kept telling her the same thing: he can't do that to his best friend.

But even though she knew all this, she couldn't help but tease him one last time. "And even if it doesn't work out you can at least get a shot," she playfully nudged him.

"So you're well rested now," smiled and rubbed his arm.

She cocked her head to one side. "What do you mean?"

"Last night," he explained but Shoko was still clueless. "We texted," he tried more but it still didn't ring a bell for her.

"I was sleeping last night, Suguru," she took a drag from the cigarette and blew out grey smoke.

Geto stopped in his tracks. "What did you say?"

"Eeeh, I slept?"

Geto shook his head. "No, I meant what did you call me?"

"Suguru? Like always?" she said and studied his face. It turned from realization to blush to pure horror.

"You've always called me Suguru. Not even when we first met you didn't call me by my surname," he muttered and fished out hsi phone from his pants. He quickly found Shoko's contact and scrolled to the messages he had with her. He slowly turned his phone for Shoko to see. She got so surprised her cigarette fell from her hand as she stared at the last message next to her contact picture.

Geto...

[osamucide]

closer

i wanna fuck you like an animal!

NSFW CONTENT - MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

wc: 1.6k

cw: switch!atsushi, d/s dynamics, gn+ada!reader, teasing, corruption kink, overstimulation, dry humping, mentions of edging and semi-public sex, dirty talk, name calling both ways (whore, slut, bitch, good boy, pretty, mine), spit, choking, unprotected sex, cum, everything is safe mostly sane and absolutely consensual just filthy and fucking nasty sorry

reid: what was supposed to be a <500 word blurb/concept turned into uh this. whoopsie! but come onnnnnn nnhggghsshnghhh sweet tiger boy i just wanna make him feral. lowercase intended

. . . .ᐟ

he’s so beautiful. he looks like an angel, with his silver hair and wide, pretty eyes. it’s hardly your fault that he caught your attention from the moment dazai dragged him into the office.

and he’s far from naive to the capacity this world has for destruction, dazai tells you. and yet, you watched the way he threw himself at that bomb so selflessly. the way he flustered at the barrage of praise for being so qualified, so compassionate, such a perfect fit for the agency.

you watch atsushi for weeks to come as he blushes at any physical contact or verbal affection from anyone. you watch the way he stumbles into your desk and knocks over a cup of pens. he drops a few of his papers in the process, begins apologizing profusely, and reaches to tidy up your space before worrying about his own things. he’s stuttering as you help. your hand brushes his and he seems to glitch before smiling and saying sorry for that, too. you say it’s okay and bite down on the inside of your cheek; it’s all you can do to stifle the amusement from creeping onto your face. he’s just so cute.

you want to ruin him.

you know that, despite that angelic exterior, he already knows depravity.

but the depravity that he knows - as you come to understand from talking to him, going on assignments with him, helping him acclamate to the office - is violent. neglectful. he’s had hostility misplaced upon him for as long as he can remember. the horror he’s been exposed is what made him so meek and obedient, you deduce, and it breaks your heart a little bit, because you know there's an animal underneath all that.

you want to show him the good - the pleasure - to be found in the depraved.

so it begins with your invitations to meet at the café before and after work. you have sweet conversations; you banter and flirt and talk about life with him and bat your eyes and he gets all blushy and tries to talk back, but he's just too inexperienced. he's never had someone care to get close to him quite like this! and even though he likes it, likes you, he can't deny that you make him nervous.

you make your way into his proximity at work by plopping yourself on his desk to toy with his fingers or kissing his jaw when you pass him in the hallway. he's enthralled - with the sparkle in your eye, your hand brushing his waist, the wink you send him when kunikida berates you both for slacking off - and it barely takes any time at all. you make it all just subtle enough that it leaves him squirming with this unfamiliar ache.

you soon catch a glimpse of a certain ferocity in him; dazai's making you laugh a little too hard one day, and something in atsushi snaps.

he takes care to clock both of you out exactly as your shift ends, neither of you lingering in the usual way that you would, before dragging you along behind him back to the dormitory.

“atsushi? are you alright?”

he doesn't answer, just yanks you inside his apartment. you don't have time to breathe before his lips are on yours, messy and unpracticed.

“i want you to be mine,” he gasps into your mouth, pressing his hips to yours.

he wants you to be his, huh?

you chuckle, more than happy to oblige. you tell him you don't know if he realizes what he's in for, and he says he doesn't care. he wants you.

and it continues with his increasing neediness. he needs to know you still want him, needs to know you still like him, needs to know he’s enough. and the cruelest part is that you work him up - you let him wonder.

you let him wonder until he can’t take it anymore.

you send him coy smiles. you teach him how to use his tongue while he kisses you. you stroke his thigh under the table at meetings, wrap your arms around him just to squeeze his ass, shamelessly plant kisses on his neck in public, and it has him painfully hard when he shouldn’t be. atsushi understands what you’re making him feel - what he doesn’t understand is how deliberately you’re doing it, or where he should go from here.

he’s late one day. he’s never late. he’s a good boy, always fulfilling his duties on time and with a smile, so it’s alarming for the others in the office (save for kunikida, who’s annoyed) that he’s absent without warning.

so you make your way over. his apartment’s unlocked; his coat’s crumpled on the floor beneath the rack next to his untied shoes, almost as if he went to leave but then doubled back for something he forgot. you hear . . . something coming from his bedroom, and you call his name before going to investigate.

and you find him face down in his futon with his hips grinding furiously against the comforter bunched up between his legs. what's more? he’s crooning your name.

and you grin. you’re one step closer to accomplishing what you’ve been wanting for weeks.

“feel good, atsu?”

the yelp he lets out is adorable. he scrambles to flip himself over, cover himself up; you lean against his doorframe, arms crossed, and he pelts you with apologies. he’s sorry! he’s so sorry you’re seeing this! what are you doing here? how’d you get in? why are you looking at him like that? he’s redder than you’ve ever seen him, his chest is heaving, and all you can do is tsk.

skipping out on work to hump his bed at the thought of you? how filthy he is, you tell him. as you approach him you take note of the concerning amounts of cum staining his blankets, smearing across his stomach and chest, dripping down his fingers.

“well,” you say, “don’t stop just ‘cause I’m here.”

he almost cowers under your gaze as the worlds tumble out of his mouth.

“please, please just help me!” he begs you, whining your name. “you make me feel so- so- you're the reason I'm- ugh, I can’t- I need you to t- touch me! please, it hurts so bad . . .”

so you do, disregarding the cast of waiting characters who will undoubtedly see through whatever excuse you come up with when you return to the office with atsushi, flushed and clinging to you, in tow.

and after the first taste, he’s insatiable.

"please, please please please make me cum, please . . . !" "I'm yours! I'm all yours, I'm your good boy . . . !" "want it s' bad, I want it s' bad . . . !"

he wants you on him all the time. everyone's going out for lunch? he'll look at you, begging you to stay at the office with him so you can ride him on the couch. he drags his hand across your desk on his way to the bathroom as his way of saying meet me. ranpo charges someone, anyone, with a snack run since he's too lazy to do it himself, and atsushi's burning holes into you with his gaze, silently pleading for you to offer to take him with you and go so you can find somewhere on the way to suck him off.

and for the most part, he's so good for you. he quiets down when you clamp your hand over his mouth and tell him to shut his whore ass up before someone hears. he accepts your edging and your overstim in stride, thanking you when you let him cum, biting back his complaints when you don't. he takes everything you give him; whether he's your nasty little slut or your good boy he agrees, he worships your body every chance he gets, he laps up the spit you dribble onto his tongue. he's a dream. he's an angel. and he's usually so good.

but when he's bad, he's terrible. and it's just as beautiful.

"this is your fault," atsushi growls into your mouth as he’s fucking his third? fourth? load into you, so overstimulated that there’s tears running down his sweet face but so entranced by the way his dick disappears into you that he can't stop. you dig your nails into his arm and stroke his face with your other hand and giggle through your moans because it is your fault. you made him like this.

he eventually realizes how easily he can overpower you. he realizes he can pull you in by your shirt collar and call you a needy little bitch just as simply as you can him; he's a smart boy, atsushi, and it takes him a minute, but he figures you out. you're choking him? he's doing it back, and he's got a shit-eating smirk on his face as he leans in again to kiss you, hungry and well-taught. he stops twiddling his thumbs and looking at you with the word please on his face and starts sinking his teeth into your neck when he wants, sitting you on his thigh when he wants, spitting in your mouth when he wants. he learns he's allowed to take, too, and this is when you know you've freed the animal from its cage.

"you're mine. you're mine, you're mine, I love you . . . !" "jus' like that, jus' like that, you're takin' me so good . . . !" "we're done when I say we're done, pretty . . . !"

and it repairs that crack in your heart to know that he feels loved and cared for enough to ask for what he wants from you. at the end of the day, it's debatable who has who wrapped around their finger . . . sure, you ruined him first, but he's more than eager to return the favor. <3

[choerypetal]

Play pretend / Dean Winchester

summary: Dean and you had always been a package deal, whether on hunts or coming to your rescue during family dinners. But when would the charade end? When would you both realize that perhaps there was more than just pretending between you?

type: fluff, a little angst?

ps: english isn't my first language so i apologize for any grammar errors etc.

enjoy!

You felt a surge of nerves as the moment approached – the night when your family would finally meet your boyfriend, or as you preferred to call him, your "stand-in partner." It all began when Dean, sensing your discomfort during an awkward encounter with a family acquaintance, graciously stepped in to rescue you. Despite your generous hospitality, with enough food to satisfy an army courtesy of your aunt, Dean couldn't hide his disapproval as he observed the conversation unfolding between you and the other guy. The type of guy one of your family member wanted you to meet. 

"Perhaps we could," the man suggested, leaning in closer, uncomfortably near Dean's personal space. Dean swore he could see the man's lips moving against the curve of your neck. As the whispering persisted, Dean strained to decipher the words. "How about grabbing a drink or two next week? At my place." You fought the urge to gag, doing your best to ignore Dean's intense stare right through the man’s eyes. When he heard Dean snort in apparent disgust, it was clear as day when the man turned to face him. Ready to inquire if everything was alright. Of course, Dean couldn't simply brush it off and have a beer. So he calmly interjected, "I'm afraid she won’t be available." 

The guy leveled another challenging stare, daring to question Dean's authority. Sam struggled to suppress a chuckle at Dean's blatant jealousy, evidenced by his readiness to resort to aggression regardless of the circumstances. Especially now, with another man brazenly displaying affection by wrapping his arm around you. "I suggest you don't push it," Dean warned, his gaze sharp as it shifted between you and the interloper. The situation escalated when the other guy resisted, though it was already too late to defuse the tension. Dean's grip tightened on the man's collar, the atmosphere crackling with hostility as both men squared off, their combined weight threatening to buckle the table beneath them. 

You attempted to calm Dean, your hand reaching out as if to steady him on the verge of toppling over the table. You reassured him that the guy was just asking you out for a casual drink or two. But Dean saw through the facade; it wasn't about that at all. It was about shielding you from the prying eyes and judgment of your family, particularly since it was their first encounter.

"Come on, man," Sam's gentle voice broke through, prompting Dean to rein in his temper. Sam trying so poorly to make any privy eyes that everything was alright. The guy seemed almost taken aback, giving Dean a chance to collect himself. You rose from your seat to stand beside him, wordlessly shooting a glance in Dean's direction. You were all too familiar with that look. But for the moment, your priority was soothing the guy's ego and making it abundantly clear that you weren't interested.

You vividly recall a particular night when Dean seemed to be keeping a close eye on you as you tried to calm the guy. When the bathroom door swung open, you were met with Dean's intense gaze. It was then that he spoke up, after the guy had finally relented. "She's my girlfriend," he declared firmly. "So back off."

As you focused on your reflection in the mirror, memories of that night flooded back. You had chosen a new dress, thanks to Charlie's assistance during your weekend shopping trip for the upcoming family dinner. Your aunt had graciously invited Dean to join as well. Nerves tingled visibly, and though Dean tried to play it cool, he couldn't help but admire your beauty with an awe-struck gaze. "You look stunning," he remarked, leaning against your bedroom door, his eyes tracing your silhouette appreciatively. You smiled nervously, fingers delicately smoothing over the fabric of your dress, unsure if it was too revealing. "Be honest," you turned to face him. "Is it too... revealing?"

Without a moment's hesitation, Dean shook his head and swiftly approached where you stood. Noticing the zipper on your back wasn't completely sealed, you felt the warmth of his fingers brushing against your skin as he zipped it up all the way. His eyes traced over your figure, unable to deny your beauty tonight, and every other day, of course, but particularly tonight. He understood your desire to make a good impression, not just for yourself but for him as well, and he appreciated these thoughtful touches. "Now, look at me," he instructed, spinning you around to face him, taking one last admiring glance before restraining himself from biting his lip. “You have nothing to worry about, and I assure you I won’t take more than one beer.” 

“Pinky promise?” You appreciate Dean’s effort. And even thought the incident  was just years ago, you couldn’t help to recall it perfectly. How Dean’s hot intoxicated breath was beneath you. His glare almost making the entirety of the rest of the evening more uncomfortable. But it wasn’t until you heard from Dean’s voice himself. How you were his and his alone. And how one of your family member walking  in the middle without even getting a second thought to process and letting the news roaming around the family. And what startled you the most was how happy they were for Dean to be back into the family once more. “Pink promise.” Dean said confidently. 

The journey to your aunt's house progressed smoothly, though Dean couldn't help but notice your tension. He offered reassurance with his presence, his fingers gently tracing patterns on your thigh, silently conveying that everything would be okay. As he maneuvered the Impala into a spot in front of the house, a realization struck you. Not only was it a significant moment for your family to meet Dean properly, but you also found yourself pondering: did Dean truly mean what he said, you were his girlfriend? It has been a year for christ sake and nothing. "Ready?" Dean's voice cut through your thoughts as you gazed at the familiar house. You remained silent, nodding in response out of nervous habit, secretly hoping the dinner would conclude swiftly to spare yourself any potential embarrassment. 

Dean's arm encircled your waist as you approached the entrance of the house together. Just as you were about to knock, the door swung open, indicating that your family was indeed expecting your arrival. Your parents were present, and it was your mother who greeted both of you with open arms, inquiring about the whereabouts of your aunt. "She's in the kitchen, dear," she remarked, her gaze shifting to Dean. He smiled proudly, a hint of cockiness evident as your mother's hands gently caressed his face. "What a handsome man you are," she complimented, causing Dean's smile to widen. You shot him a teasing glare as he responded, "I must say, I’m the lucky one drawn by your daughter's beauty." Your mother looked on in awe, while Dean's grip on your waist remained firm. With a satisfied expression, your mother welcomed you both inside. 

"Do you mind if I go greet my cousins?" You attempted to steady your nerves as you spoke to Dean. Of course, he understood the underlying anxiety in your question. After exchanging pleasantries with a few family members in the kitchen, Dean found himself offered a beer by a man who appeared to be your father. "Finally," the older man's voice hinted, and Dean knew that accepting the beer meant he was fully committed. But what harm could one beer do, right? "Meeting my daughter's famous boyfriend," your father remarked, catching Dean off guard with the unexpected compliment. From being referred to as the "famous boyfriend" to "handsome D," Dean couldn't help but feel surprised at the nicknames you had apparently bestowed upon him. It was especially amusing considering your initial agreement to portray him as your "fake boyfriend." 

Nevertheless, Dean continued to play along, responding with a casual shrug. "And I'd be remiss not to acknowledge that good looks run in the family," he added cockily. The compliment elicited a chuckle from your father, unaware of the surprising camaraderie that was forming between the two men, from their shared music tastes to similarities in their lives. “Look at them,” Your mother placed her hands on your shoulder, knowing she was just as charmed by Dean’s natural charm you couldn’t feel more relieved that Dean felt now to be a part of the family. And that even with the incident that happened years ago he was more than welcomed. 

Throughout the night, Dean stayed close by your side. Joking with your family’s jokes at the dinner table. His arm wrapped around yours, as he reincarnated the time the two of you had met. But it was too much. Too much to take in as the whole fake boyfriend thing began to unwrap beneath your senses. Dean noticed your shift in emotions, when you quickly excused yourself from the table. Luckily, no one had suspected anything. And Dean waited for a little while, before he himself excused himself momentarily. 

"Just finishing something," you managed to choke out amidst your tears, the sound of knocking echoing from the other side of the door. Unbeknownst to you, it was Dean himself on the other side. Knowing you hadn't locked yourself in the bathroom, he didn't wait or hesitate. Instead, he burst into the room, eliciting a gasp from you as you shot him a death glare. What he noticed, however, was the mascara streaks mingling with your tears as you tried to wipe them away. "Hey, love—" Dean began, but you quickly cut him off, chuckling bitterly as he frowned at your unexpected response. He knew something was amiss. "Sorry," you muttered, realizing that without any prying eyes around, the pet names and pretense were unnecessary. And it hurt him too, the entire charade. "What's wrong?" he asked gently, his thumb tenderly caressing your chin as he lifted it, forcing you to meet his gaze. 

“I just,” You tried to relocate your thoughts. Your face lowered even if you tried not to make eye contact. “How long are we going to play pretend?” You almost chocked once more in your voice, cracking itself as you buried your face against Dean’s chest. What little did you know was that Dean was also tired to play pretend, and was waiting for the exact moment when to address his feelings officially for you. To make you his for eternity. But he simply wrapped yourself in his arm, kissing your hair lightly when he tried to hush you. And said. “You know,” His voice inquired curiosity and a hint of interest when you looked up to him, a brow arching in wanting to know what he was going to say next. 

"I've always loved you," he confessed, pausing briefly, his gaze locking with yours. You couldn't help but notice the vivid green shimmer in his eyes as he spoke about the two of you. "Since the first day we met, since you almost dripped wine on my favorite shirt. Since that guy when I almost threw the first punch," he recounted, reminiscing about every moment and significant event. Unbeknownst to you, you were too oblivious to realize. Then, you heard his soft chuckle. "And that time when I said you were my girlfriend. Whether I was drunk or not, I meant it."

Your brows furrowed slightly, head tilting to the side. "And what took you so long?" Your tone wasn't accusatory or hurt; you were simply curious. Why had it taken so long to pretend when the feelings were evidently there? "I was just too dumb to realize that the woman I love was right in front of me. Right here in my arms," he admitted, his voice tinged with regret. "And even though this may not be the best way to confess, I'll say it again, Y/N. I love you. I love you so damn much, that I'd even die for you."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," you chuckled softly at Dean's dramatic proclamation. "First of all, I'm not dying tomorrow or any other day," you reassured him, a smile gracing your lips, which Dean couldn't help but admire. "And second of all, I feel the same way," you added, enough to satisfy him. As you felt his fingers now brushing against your cheeks, ready to cup your face, your lips brushed against each other, a tantalizing tease. The two of you nibbled on each other's lower lips before finally meeting for a kiss. It was a kiss that spoke volumes, sealing the deal. You were officially his, and his alone.

Without breaking the kiss, the sound of a knock echoed around Dean and you. Startled, you both chuckled softly and responded, "Just a minute!" Little did you know, it was your mother on the other side, announcing, "Good, because pie is being served!" She couldn't have been more oblivious to the situation. As you released the kiss, Dean's excitement shone brightly in his eyes at the mention of pie. "What flavor?" he eagerly asked. "Your favorite, apple," you replied with a soft smile, amused by his enthusiasm. As he was ready to leave the bathroom, allowing you to tidy up the remnants of your mascara, he paused halfway and turned back to you, planting another kiss on your lips. "I love you, and I mean it," he declared sincerely.

You smiled back at him, echoing his sentiment. "I do too," you replied warmly. You could see Dean's body shifting, torn between wanting to indulge in the pie and offering to help you clean up. Chuckling at his demeanor, you encouraged him, "Go on, the pie will be cold." He thanked you once more before heading out, and little did both of you know. Dean had become a part of the family, even inviting Sam along. And every year, he became the official taste tester for your aunt's special pies recipes.

[livinginshambles]

Preview: I thought you'd be different | James Potter

Pairing: James Potter x Fem!Slytherin!Reader

Summary: A Cinderella Story, but Hogwarts. (Enemies? to lovers)

Notes: Sorry I've been mia; i wrote this today, it's all I have so the full fic will probably take a while, not proofread, mistakes blah blah, enjoy!

PS. I am currently no longer making a taglist because I can't keep up with it, I'm really sorry!

Masterlist. Taglist

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You could still remember the moment vividly, as if it was engraved in your memory.

That moment when the sorting hat placed you in Slytherin instead of Gryffindor like your two older sisters had been sorted. You could still see the look of surprise, concern, horror and then eventually disgust, every time you closed your eyes.

“Now we finally know your true colors,” is what you sister Alyssa had hissed coldly at you. You had pleadingly looked at your other sister, but Marla had supported her twin sister, disregarding the confused and scared look in your eleven-year-old eyes.

“Don’t talk to us, don’t look at us and don’t mention us at all,” she sneered down at you and for a moment you wondered how she hadn’t been the one to be sorted into Slytherin instead. But you had cast your eyes down and agreed.

But years passed and you had become the very stereotype of a Slytherin student, completely leaning into the cold, distant, quiet but calculating persona that your sisters had created for you. Might as well, you figured after your parent’s dismay at the revelation of your house.

You were making your way down the corridor, long strides as you passed your sisters while looking them straight in the eye. They grimaced at the sight of you, but without their entire group of classmates, they didn’t dare make any comments.

A feeling of victory erupted inside of you, and you couldn’t help the small smirk that crept up your face.

“What poor soul suffered for you to look so satisfied?” You turned your head to look at the person who called out to you. James Potter and Sirius Black were both leaning against a statue in the open yard.

“Did you get rid of Regulus or something?” Sirius taunted. “Finally had enough of him following you around, did you L/N?”

“Go die in a ditch, Sirius,” you retorted with an eyeroll, but seemed unphased.

“Why so much hostility,” James unpleasantly remarked, and you halted in your step.

To be petty or not to be petty, you sighed and rolled your eyes.

“10 points from Gryffindor for loitering,” you decided.

The two marauders started to protest.

“If you have nothing to do, other than insulting students, I would love to recommend you to Professor McGonagall for detention. Heard she was still looking for the person who made all the pumpkins explode last week during Halloween, and you guys are terrible at getting rid of the evidence.” It effectively shut them up, and with a last glance up and down, you continued your way towards the room of requirement.

When you entered the sober room with a sigh, you noticed the small scrolled up piece of parchment in the middle of the room. You frowned. This was your space. The room didn’t open this space for anyone else, you made it specifically as a safe haven.

You cautiously approached the parchment and rolled it open to reveal nothing. It was completely blank. You shrugged. If the room left this here, it was meant for you, and so you took a seat and started drawing on it.

James sat in an empty room, his invisibility cloak hiding him from plain sight as he pulled the now folded paper from his back pocket. He inspected it closely, almost pressing the paper to his glasses in a curious manner.

He had gone to the Room of Requirements earlier that day and found a piece of paper floating in the air. Of course, levitating stuff wasn't that strange, but it had intrigued him nonetheless.

James unfolded the paper, and his eyebrows flew up. Lines were appearing on the paper by itself, and a beautiful portrait of a weeping willow with a girl who was crying on a bench under the tree, appeared.

James fumbled to find his quill and ink. Then he started to write something on it, in a handwriting that he only ever used for written exams.

(Credits to Professor McGonagall who had announced that she would not be grading anything she couldn’t read. And she had looked over her glasses at him while she said it.)

It’s beautiful.

You dropped the parchment at the words that formed right under your drawing. You traced it with your fingers. Then you decided to write back.

Full fic