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poshmina · 10 months ago

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A Tale of Two*Very Sensitive* Wings

Azriel X !Fem Reader

Warnings: (18+ Mature) wingplay, size kink, light angst, getting caught

Word Count: 5k+

Background: You are a long lost Archeron half-sister and your dad sends a message asking if your sisters will provide you with refuge. They oblige, bringing you back to the night court to reside with them and the rest of the inner circle. The story begins after A Court of Mist and Fury when Nesta lets slip to you at dinner that Azriel thinks he’s your mate. At first, this shocks you, as you are still human and are not accustomed to the traditions of the Fae. However, as time goes on you’ve begun to feel drawn to him. You spend your time in the Night Court learning healing practices, since you have no magical power and cannot fight with the rest of them. You’ve been staying in the House of Wind with Azriel, and though you see him often and want to get closer to him, he is always quiet and withdrawn, leaving you confused wondering how someone so distant could be your mate?

The floor of the House of Wind shudders as an Illyrian male lands on the balcony. You look up from where you’d been sitting at the table, enjoying dinner, and watch his shadow cross the balcony. You can’t make out his face in the darkness, but you know who it is anyhow.

Azriel crosses the threshold of the doorway into the dining room, his long wings tucked against his back. He hardly casts you a passing glance as he breaches the room, shadows swirling around him, seemingly not in the mood to chat tonight. You’ve gotten used to the quiet, brooding demeanor of your housemate, and usually you don’t press. Except tonight there’s blood on his face, in his hair, and on his clothes. As he walks, pieces flake off and scatter across the floor, meaning it’s been there long enough to dry. Meaning he likely left his wounds untreated the entire flight here, meaning he risked passing out mid flight and tumbling to his death due to blood loss.

You shove your chair out from behind you and stand, the sound echoing across the hall. “How long have you been bleeding?”

He doesn’t pause, or even look over his shoulder to address you. “It’s not mine.”

By this point, he’s halfway across the room, apparently planning to head to his quarters without having someone check his wounds. That’s when you notice it, a myriad of tears across his wings as if he’d been struck with arrows and then yanked them back out. The blood on his wings is most definitely his own.

“Azriel!” It comes out as a mix between a shout and a plea. You can tell yourself you don’t really care about him, that you would harass anyone until they got treated, except this is more than medical obligation. You’re beginning to care for him.

He stops in his tracks, but doesn’t look over his shoulder. “Y/N, I’m fine,” he insists.

You cross the room towards him. “Clearly you’re not! There are holes in your wings. You’re so covered in blood there’s no way even you could tell if there were wounds hidden beneath. You have to get treated!”

He lets out an irritated sigh and finally turns to face you. “Y/N, you don’t have to involve yourself in this. It’s none of your business.”

Gods, you can’t believe him. “You made it my business when you came in tracking blood across the house. Either go see a healer, or let me take a look.”

You don’t know why you’re so insistent. He could be fine. He’s been alive for hundreds of years and surely knows his physical limits. Except you’re so tired of him keeping you at arm's length, so tired of his closed off, brooding attitude.

He hesitates, jaw clenched, but doesn’t agree.

“Just let me help you,” you plead.

For a moment, you think you see behind his mask, the cold exterior he keeps up around you. You think he’s going to say yes.

Instead he draws further on himself and pushes you further away. “I’m fine, Y/N. Worry about yourself.” He turns to disappear down the hallway, but doesn’t get two steps before you’re walking after him. You don’t know what’s gotten into you tonight, but you’re sick of his games. Sick of waiting and wondering if he’ll ever make a move. If he even likes you. Every feeling you bottled up from the past few months comes to a head, tumbling out of you.

“What is wrong with you?” You ask, exasperated.

He wheels around to face you, unable to mask the surprise on his face, “What?”

“I said what is wrong with you! You’re always irritated, or distant, or avoidant. You actively avoid me even though I’ve done nothing but be kind to you. You act like I’m a thorn in your side even though I have every right to be here in this house with you.” You jab a finger towards the floor to solidify your point. “Do you think I asked to be here? To be taken from my home and thrust into this strange kingdom, with your strange Fae traditions, where everyone is older, and faster and stronger than me?” He blinks, stunned into silence by your sudden outburst.

“Do you think I asked to have you as my mate?”

Immediately, you wish you could take it back. You hadn’t meant for that to come out at all, let alone in such an accusatory tone. Really, you don’t mind the thought of him as your mate. That is, if you could explore the bond together. If he would quit shoving you away.

His shadows flare, and the scowl you've become so accustomed to returns. “Who told you that?”

“I—” You fumble over your words, “I didn’t mean to tell you that.”

He takes a step closer, and all of the sudden you get a very real sense of his height as he towers over you. “Doesn’t matter, you already did. Now who told you?”

You reel to find something to distract him, not wanting to put the blame on Nesta. Your relationship with your new sister is so new and fragile, you can’t drive a wench in it. “I deserved to know Azriel. It’s not like you were going to tell me.”

His gaze flickers, and you swear you see a flash of pain in those eyes. “I didn’t want you to find out this way.”

The sting of rejection pangs sharp in your chest. He didn’t want you to find out this way, or he didn’t want you to find out at all? All these months avoiding you, acting like he wants nothing more than for you to poof out of his life and return where you came from. You tried to ignore the fear, tried to push it away, but now the reality crashes over you. Your mate doesn’t want you at all.

“Well now I know and I don’t expect anything from you.” You jab a finger towards his chest. “I know I’m human and I’m weak and you didn’t ask for me either. But it wouldn’t kill you to be a little nicer to me.” You take a shuddering breath, and a weight seems to fall off your shoulder with all of those words out. You realize you’ve moved closer to him and take a step back.

“Nicer,” he repeats, watching you intently.

“Yes,” you huff. “We don’t have to be anything more than acquaintances. Housemates, even. But you don’t have to be such a dick.” You cross your arms and level him a stare.

He sighs, shaking head in disbelief. “Fine. What exactly does this relationship of acquaintance entail?” One of his wings shudders behind him, and from the wince on his face you can tell it wasn’t on purpose. You look at it pointedly.

“Letting me help you would be a start.”

There’s a final moment of hesitation, drawn out long enough that you think he might actually turn you away. Except then he shakes his head, and as if it physically pains him to do so, says, “As you wish.” Without another word he turns down the hall to head to his rooms. You take a moment of pause, wondering if you pushed too far. The male in front of you is not just any man, he’s a centuries old Illyrian warrior with power beyond your comprehension. Any relationship with him could be dangerous, acquaintance or no.

But he turns back to you. “You coming?” And for some reason you can’t help but follow.

—

“Fuck.” He shudders beneath your hands. The blood was not, in fact, entirely his opponents. He had two gashes, one across his abdomen and the other along his bicep. Although his fae blood was already beginning to heal them, you insisted he let you stitch them up in order to avoid scarring.

You thread the needle through his skin and finish the final stitch, clipping the string you used to sew him up and sitting back to admire your handiwork. You may not have magic, but you quickly excelled in the healing arts.

“All done,” you tell him. He lifts his head from where it had been bowed against his arms and inspects your work. If he’s impressed or not, you can’t tell. He shows nothing on his face, not even a hint of pain from the wounds still remaining on his wings.

“Now for your wings,” you shift to stand behind him, biting your lip as you try to decide a course of action. Wings can’t be stitched up, they have to heal naturally, and take longer than most ailments to close. The best you can offer is to apply a numbing salve to curb the pain for now. You’re about to tell him that when he says—

“I can handle it.”

You knit your eyebrows. “I’m already here. You won’t be able to reach behind you. If I don’t numb them you’ll be in serious pain all night.”

Put so plainly you’re unsure how he could refuse. He does anyhow. “I don’t need numbing salve. You’ve done plenty, thank you.” And just like that he dismisses you. Except now that he’s washed the blood from his skin you can see just how pale he is, and with the pain he won’t be able to get a lick of sleep, slowing the healing process altogether.

You prop a hand on your hip. “As your healing professional I would strongly advise against that.” You don’t understand his reluctance, and every time he says no to help, it only makes you want to push further.

He looks up at you, and for the first time in maybe forever, one side of his lips quirk up into a smirk. “Healing professional, huh?”

You shrug. “The closest you have to one, at least.”

He tilts his head back and mutters a prayer to the Mother. “You’re not going to leave until I let you do this, will you?”

“It’s unlikely.”

He gives an exasperated sigh, then leans over the desk he’d been sitting at, baring his wings to you. “Make it quick.” His voice is muffled by the cradle of his arms. You can’t help but smirk at the success. Progress. This is progress.

A few minutes later the house has summoned a jar of numbing salve for you and you are standing over him, preparing to begin your work.

“This may sting for a moment, but once it settles it will fade.” He grunts in response. “I’ll be gentle,” you add. You scoop a generous portion out of the jar, warming it between your fingers before applying it. You decide to start at the outskirts where the tears are thinner and not as gruesome. Hovering a hand over his wing, you pause for a moment before gingerly spreading the salve on him. He tenses immediately, hissing through his teeth before relaxing as it settles in.

“Okay?” You ask.

“Fine.” His tone is clipped.

Taking that as permission, you continue along the edges of his wings, applying and waiting for him to adjust before moving to the next. As far as cooperation goes, he is the ideal patient. He doesn’t so much as shift a muscle while you work, and remains deadly silent. If it weren’t for his fists resting on the table clenched to the point his knuckles are white, you would think it was painless.

Once you finish the outer ring of his wings, you pause. “I’m going to tackle the deeper ones now. Do you need a break?”

“Don’t bother.” His voice comes out muffled, and you notice one of his hands has disappeared into the space between his arms where his head is caged. He’s likely biting at his finger to distract from the pain.

“Would you like something to bite on?”

For a moment there’s no response, then his hand returns into sight on the desk. “I’m fine, Y/N. Please continue.” He says as if you’re a nagging insect buzzing at his ear rather than the only person trying to help him.

With a huff, you dip your fingers into the jar again, and begin to spread the salve near the base of his wings. This time, you aren’t quite so gentle.

He lets out a strangled sound beneath you, somewhere between a gasp and a groan. Immediately, you feel guilty, and start to take more care with the application, massaging slow, deliberate circles into the muscles of his wings. You can feel the muscles around the tears shudder and relax as you go. He curses beneath your hands.

You’ve almost reached the last, and nastiest, of his wounds when he abruptly shoves his chair backwards and stands, causing you to lose your balance. You nearly fall on your ass before catching yourself on the desk.

“That’s enough,” he nearly shouts at the same time you say, “What the fuck, Azriel?” His eyes are wild, chest heaving as he glares down at you. He distinctly seems to angle his body away from you.

“I wasn’t finished,” you argue.

He looks up at the ceiling, anywhere but directly at you. “You’ve done plenty.” Instinctively, your eyes fall to his stomach to double check the work you’d done earlier. Instead, your eyes snag on something a few inches lower.

Your eyes widen as you take in the obvious bulge straining against his leathers.

Oh.

One of the first things you’d learned about treating the Fae is that wings are very sensitive. They are to be handled with the utmost care, their delicate construction requiring practiced healing applications. However, in all your training, nobody had deigned to mention sensitive goes hand in hand with pleasurable.

His eyes flare as you look back up at him, cheeks heating. You open your mouth to say something, anything, but words don’t come. He merely continues to stare at you with that heated gaze.

“I should go,” the words come out of you in a frenzied rush. He doesn’t agree, but he doesn’t disagree either. “I just— I didn’t realize,” now that you’ve started, you can hardly stop yourself. “This is all so new to me. I wouldn’t have if I’d known—”

“Now you know.” If he means it to be harsh, it doesn’t come out that way, but rather like a plea.

“I should go,” you say again, but can hardly move a muscle. With him standing there and looking at you like that, with the distance between you so small. You feel as if you're drowning, and he is the current pulling you further under.

You let out a small gasp as you feel a featherlight touch on your cheek. One of his shadows has crept across the room, and whether he intended it or not, is caressing you gently. Instinctively, you lean into it.

A few paces away, you watch his lips part as he watches you. He doesn’t recall his shadow. Instead, it inches closer, brushing across your lips. You don’t dare move, you don’t dare breathe.

“Azriel,” you whisper.

In a moment he’s upon you. The shadow dissipates, replaced by his hands cupping your face, his hips pushing you backwards until you're pressed against the desk. He kisses you with a hunger you’ve never felt before, his lips moving desperately against yours. You let out a whimper as he guides your lips apart, running his tongue across your own.

With every ounce of self control you have left, you manage to shove him away for a moment.

“I thought you hated me. I thought you didn’t want me as your mate.” You search his eyes for answers, for the cold, closed off man you’d known up until now.

“Hate you?” He tips his head back and laughs humorlessly. “If hating you means thinking about you every waking moment. If hating you means desperately wishing you’d appear outside my doorway every night. If hating you means not being able to even think about you without—” He cuts himself off, shaking his head. “If that’s what it means then sure, Y/N, I hate you.”

Your mind reels trying to process what he’s telling you. “You sure as hell acted like it.”

A flash of regret crosses through his eyes. “I didn’t want you to feel pressured. I wanted to give you time to adjust.”

Faintly, you remember what had happened when Lucien had sprung the mating bond on a newly transformed Elain. She can hardly stand to be in the same room as him, let alone pursue a relationship.

In a moment of boldness, you reach down and palm him through his leathers, watching as his eyes flutter closed in pleasure. “Consider me adjusted.” You yank him back down to you, crashing his lips against yours. He meets you with the same intensity, tongue and lips and teeth clashing in a heavenly dance. His hand slides up to your throat as he kisses you, holding gently. It’s only when you pull away to gasp for air when you realize his shadows are floating around you, cradling you both.

Your lips part in wonder. It’s beautiful, but you hardly get the chance to tell him so before he lifts you up on the desk and resumes the contact. His kisses stray from the side of your mouth, to your jaw and neck. He takes your ear between his teeth and tugs lightly, sending shivers of pleasure through you. His hand cups your breast, and when the attention of his mouth lowers to your collarbones, you lean back to shuck your shirt off. He palms your breast greedily, reaching behind you to undo your bra clasp before taking a moment to stare. You feel your cheeks heat at the intensity of his gaze, and have the urge to cover yourself again.

“Perfect. You’re fucking perfect Y/N,” he mutters before lowering his mouth to your nipple and closing his mouth upon it, sucking and swirling in a way that makes you arch into him. He gives your other breast equal attention until you're moaning and panting beneath him.

He retreats to relive himself of his armor. If there’s any remaining pain in his wings, he doesn’t show it. He steps close and positions himself between your legs, peering down at you. You reach out a hesitant hand and hover it over the tip of his wing. He watches your movements with rapt attention, nearly holding his breath with anticipation.

You brush a featherlight touch along the crest of his wings, and that touch alone is enough to cause him to shudder and groan under his breath. You can’t imagine how he stood still for so long earlier.

You reach down and tug at the hem of his shirt, wanting it off. He obliges, tossing it aside, returning his attention to you. You take him in slowly, dragging a hand down the hard line of his abs, tracing his tattoos with your finger. He waits patiently, letting you have your fill. Unable to help yourself, you glance down at his hardness again, breath faltering as you take in exactly how big he is. From a distance, it seemed reasonable, but from this close…

He reaches out a hand to cup your face, peering into your eyes. “Are you sure you want this?”

Without a moment's hesitation, you say. “Yes. I want this Azriel. I want you.”

You watch relief flash in his eyes before he resumes his movements. His hands go to your waistband, and he unbuttons your pants before leaning in to whisper, “Lift your hips for me, “Y/N.”

You do as he says, positioning yourself so he can slide your pants over your hips and cast them aside. He repeats this motion with your underwear, baring you completely to him. And before you can even consider what’s to come next, he lowers himself to his knees in front of the desk, bringing his face directly in line with where you need him most. He places one long lick from your entrance to your crest, drawing a ragged gasp from you, then pulls away.

“Y/N.”

“Yes?” Your mind spins, because as he’s talking, his mouth is hovering over you and you can feel his breath as he speaks.

He dips a finger between your folds, dragging it up to circle your clit. “I’m gonna get you ready now so you can take me comfortably, alright?”

You hardly register what he’s saying, because his finger is moving fervently against you and you can already feel that coil of pleasure within you. You give a short nod in response.

Then, as quickly as it came, the pressure on your clit is gone. You look down to see him peering up at you, waiting for an answer. What did he say again?

He must sense you drawing a blank, because he smirks and repeats himself. “I need you to be good and do as I say so you can take me fully. Okay, Y/N?”

“Oh… Yes. Okay,” you nod fervently. It’s then you realize exactly what he’s saying to you. You heard rumors around the inner circle that Azriel had the biggest… wingspan… but you never imagined anything close to this.

Satisfied with your answer, he resumes again, lowering his mouth to take the place of his finger. He circles his tongue around your clit, then sucks gently. You’re already seeing stars when you feel his finger at his entrance and he slowly slides it into you.

You moan and arch off the desk, hands flying to his head to tangle in his hair. You chance a glance down at him, and the sight of him kneeling before you, wings looming over his shoulders, eyes dark with lust, almost sends you over the edge then and there.

He begins to pump into you slowly, curling every so often to hit a spot that makes you writhe and moan. You’re just at the crest of your orgasm when he adds another finger. You hadn’t expected it, and the new sensation causes your hips to jerk as you gasp in pleasure.

“Azriel I’m gonna—”

“Not yet,” he murmurs. “Hold on a little longer for me, Y/N.”

You curse, trying to dampen the pleasure growing inside you. It’s all too much, and you have to bring your hand to your mouth and bite on your knuckle to keep from coming. He slows his movements for a moment, purposefully torturing you and keeping you on that edge.

A moment later, everything resumes with increased intensity. He pushes a third finger inside you, stretching you in a way you’ve never felt before. You gasp, shutting your eyes against the pleasure, and when you open them again, he is standing in front of you, never stopping the pace of his fingers. He raises his other hand to circle your clit. The pleasure reaches a new crest, and you find yourself grasping onto the desk just to find something to ground you.

“That's it. Come for me now,” he whispers, eyes never leaving you as the orgasm washes over you. You shudder as you come down from it, hips bucking against his hand. When you finally open your eyes you find your hand intertwined with his.

He gazes down at you, and the hint of a smile crosses his face. “Beautiful. Fucking perfect, Y/N.”

You blush and attempt to catch your breath as he rids himself of his pants and aligns himself with your entrance. You cast a glance down, taking him in in all his glory. He rubs his tip through your folds and sighs at the contact, before leaning in to give you a kiss.

“Tell me if it hurts and we’ll stop,” he promises. You nod, dismissing his worries. You sincerely doubt he could do anything to hurt you based on how amazing you’ve felt so far. And regardless, you trust him, trust the rigid self control he’s shown you all these months in the house together.

You feel his tip prodding your entrance, then he sinks the first few inches in. You sigh at the sensation, tilting your head to steal a kiss. With that for motivation, he pushes in a little further, looking down at you with worry in his eyes.

“Okay?” he asks.

You let out a breathless laugh, “Better than okay.”

You watch his face soften, and he pushes the boundary a bit further. You look down to watch him sink in, and are shocked to see he’s only halfway sheathed. You can already feel yourself beginning to stretch around him. The feeling is foreign, but not painful.

When you look back up at him, his face is strained in an expression that nearly looks painful. He’s holding himself back, hesitating to keep a firm grip on that iron self control of his. You reach up to run your hand through his hair, catching his eyes.

“I’m okay Azriel. I’m not going to break,” you reassure him.

You can tell by his curt not that he doesn’t believe it. He advances another slow, languid inch, and you buck against him impatiently.

“Azriel,” you level him a look.

He sighs. “I know. I just don’t want to hurt you. You’re still human and—”

“And I’m okay. This is okay. This is good.” You rotate your hips enjoying the pleasurable sensation it brings. He hisses through his teeth above you, and his hips jerk forward only slightly. You enjoy pushing him, enjoy making him lose control.

But there's still so much of him left, and you can’t stand the delicate line he’s walking. You want him fully, and you want him now. You reach behind him, grabbing his ass to shove him the rest of the way in. You gasp as he makes a strangled sound above you. There’s a hint of the pain he was so worried about, but it falls to the wayside as you're entirely overwhelmed by pleasure.

“Fuck,” he groans as he finally starts to move freely. Slowly at first, then with increased urgency. He pulls his hips back and rolls them into you, hitting a spot so deep within you it feels like you’re one in the same. You watch as his control slips, and his hips snap into you, inching you backwards on the desk.

“Yes, Azriel, yes,” you tell him as he picks up the pace, fucking you so hard the desk begins to bang against the wall and your eyes roll back in your head. Fucking Azriel is a sensation unlike any you’ve known before. He fills you perfectly, bending to place kisses along your breasts and collarbones. Holding your hips to slam into you at an impeccable pace.

He shifts, looping his arms under your knees, and then there’s only air beneath you as he picks you up and presses you against the wall, fucking you into it. You gasp and weave your hands into his hair, tugging lightly. You feel his thrust getting quicker, jerkier, but before he comes he switches you again, bending you over the desk and fucking you from behind. You cry out at the change in angle, and your hands fly to the edge of the desk, holding tightly.

You feel him leaning over you as he places a kiss on your back. “This is what I wanted. Everytime I avoided you, everytime I pushed you away, it was because of how badly I wanted this.” He punctuates the last word with a particularly hard thrust and you cry out as you feel his hand intertwine with your hair. It all becomes too much, and you feel yourself approaching the edge again when he wraps a hand around to your front, finding your clit and sending you spiraling. He fucks you through it, steady, hard, barely giving you a chance to come down before his hips jerk and you feel him finish. He curses, seating himself fully inside you as he rides out his orgasm.

When he pulls out, you are panting and breathless and sated with pleasure. You turn around to see his shadows scattered across the room, filling every crevice and corner.

It’s then that you both hear footsteps coming down the hall. His eyes widen, and he hurriedly steps in front of you to block you from view, covering himself with his hands.

Cassian round the corner, fury in his gaze. “What the fuck Azriel. The entire city is covered in shadows. Rhysand thinks you’re– Oh.” He stops in his tracks, cheeks turning pink as he lifts a hand to cover his eyes.

“Cassian?” Azriel says, his voice strained.

“Yea?” His voice sounds choked in his throat.

“Get the fuck out.”

#azriel shadowsinger #acotar #azriel acotar #azriel spymaster #azriel x reader

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omosoclose · 3 months ago

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I've seen a few things about fantasy omorashi curses lately, so here are some more 🪄💧:

You can only pee when your bladder is 100% at its limit (when it normally would start coming out on its own without your control). You don't get any special knowledge of when that is, just the regular feeling of desperation. If you try to go to the bathroom, even if you're 99% full, you won't be able to get any out. When you hit 100%, your bladder automatically empties itself completely, regardless of where you are.

You can pee whenever you want, but it comes out one literal drip (~0.05mL) at a time, maybe 2 drips per second if you're lucky, 1 drip per second or even longer if you've really pissed off the curse caster. If your max bladder capacity is 500mL, it would take almost an hour and a half to empty completely at 2 drips a second. You could only get about 30mL out in a regular 5-minute bathroom trip. To keep a regular schedule, you would often have to stop the flow and go about your day, still full to the brim but out of time to empty. And then when you're absolutely desperate, having to suffer through the torment of that desperation releasing itself one...drip...at...a...time...

The person who casts the curse picks an activity of daily living (eating, walking, speaking, etc.: let's say sleeping for this scenario), and now you can only do it if your bladder is at least 75% full. You literally, physically won't be able to do the activity if you're less full than that. Now, when you're tired, you have to drink a bunch and wait to fill up, then get in bed uncomfortably full and try to fall asleep. You'll have to get over your anxiety about wetting the bed, because no matter how tired you are, you physically can't sleep unless you have to pee, so having insomnia from your full bladder just won't do. Maybe sometimes you do wet the bed and then instantly wake up, unable to go back to sleep until you fill yourself up again.

You can only pee if someone else is pressing on your bladder for you. Otherwise, the curse makes your bladder and torso expand indefinitely, so you'll hold it without bursting until you can get someone to help, but you'll be in absolute agony. And how embarrassing and heavy it would be to walk around with a bladder bulge the size of a yoga ball. It's an okay curse if you have a willing friend or partner, but what if you live alone? What about at work? What if you're home alone for the day (or the week)? How would you find someone to help you?

You wake up every morning with a different bladder capacity, but there's no way (except trial & error) to tell what it is. Some days it's huge and you can hold a gallon of water just fine. Other days you have half a cup of coffee and you're wetting yourself. The curse also makes you very thirsty, so avoiding drinks altogether isn't an option. You just have to drink very carefully and hope to hell whenever you take a sip of something that there's a bathroom readily available in case it fills your bladder way more than you were expecting.

Feel free to elaborate on any of these, add your own, or use them for stories 😉. Maybe I'll do more later.

#omorashi #omo #fantasy omo #omo prompt #omorashi prompt #bladder desperation #pee kink #bladder holding #bladder bulge #bladder torture

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3liza · 10 days ago

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man it sucks so many people on here have absolutely convinced themselves that entire categories of consumer goods like perfume are bougie. you are depriving yourself of little treats by just assuming you cant ever afford anything! this isnt an avocado toast post either im not saying 'just save up and buy it lol', i would never say that, what im saying is perfume (that is: scents in liquid, paste, oil or solid form intended to be worn as a personal adornment) as a commodity starts at "free" and gradually increases in price from there. my favorite perfumes are priced everywhere between $0 and $300. one of the most lauded amber scents in the world (regrettably JUST discontinued), "Amber Paste" by Kuumba Made, is one of those little hippie oils you get at Whole Foods and it cost $10.

and im not telling you to wear perfume, obviously people have allergies and shit, or just dont care for it, im talking to the people who WANT to own fragrances. im saying they aren't all going to cost $150.

you can also get unlimited (unlimited over a long enough timeline, they limit you to a couple or three per visit) free samples at a lot of sephoras and nordstroms if you live somewhere that has those stores (this depends on the location and a lot of other organic factors, you'll have to check ahead of time or just try it if you're nearby, it's sort of random). if you're actually buying something at sephora (and they have a lot of stuff that isn't a million dollars as well, despite their branding) ask for every free sample at checkout that they have. they will often load you up, and not just with perfume. secondhand outlets like Value Village and Goodwill also do huge business in perfume because people are ALWAYS donating it.

sephora also does perfume refills. if you actually do buy a full size bottle, they can refill it for much less than buying a whole new bottle of the stuff. i don't know exactly how much it costs because i havent used this service myself. and idk how careful yiou have to be about reeceipts either, but look into it if you bought a full size and its running out

idk it just bums me out there are all these people who actually want perfume and seem to think it's out of their price range. the really basement-tier dupes of popular brand scents are so good these days it's often worth dropping the $10 at Walmart or Rite Aid too.

some of my favorite ever perfumes were some weird crap i got in a crystal wizard store, or a drug store, or a goodwill, or whatever. if you want perfume you can get it

#perfume

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colleendoran · 2 years ago

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How Do I Do Stuff

The question was phrased a little strangely, and I don't want to embarrass the person by posting exactly what was said, but I'll answer it and hope this clears everything up.

I do almost all of my drawing by hand. No, I don't trace in Photoshop. Not a judgment on those who do, but I come from a generation of artists who did not use Poser programs or other digital tools. We learned to draw using a technique called the Sight Size method. I know a lot of people assume everyone - including the old masters - traced everything using optical tools, but while it is true some people did, it is just as true that most didn't, and you can draw with great accuracy if you learned how to draw the old fashioned way.

Sight Size breaks everything down into its barest components of geometric shapes and you build from there. Once you learn it, you never forget, and it applies to everything you will ever draw.

I learned it using a set of Famous Artist Course books my mom had since she was a kid, and they are still the gold standard. They're often on ebay. If I were you, I'd buy them.

I actually find using figure reference really annoying because I like exaggerations and modifications from reality in my final work.

This page from Neil Gaiman's Chivalry was drawn and painted without figure reference of any kind.

I don't know why people assume I trace all the time. If you were to try to use photographs to replicate these figures, you would find they are slightly off. There is no tracing here.

This is not to say I never use reference. This page, for example, was referenced from a photo of my mother. Isn't she pretty.

But this page of Sir Galaad was drawn and painted without reference.

He's pretty, too.

If he were real, I'm sure a lot of people would be very happy about it. But he's not. And had I reference, the art would have gone a lot faster. I had a time trying to nail this face that is very alive in my head but doesn't really exist.

Back in the ancient days, all cartoonists had to learn to draw and paint extemporaneously because reference was limited and digital tools didn't exist. While some high end artists had photography studios and professional models with costume and sets on hand, small fry like me were limited to what was in the house or available at my small local library, which was no bigger than a few rooms of my current house.

Artists kept extensive "morgue files" or "swipe files" which were collected from magazine clippings and photographs so we would have as much of what we might need on hand for quick reference. These ephemera collections could get unwieldy. I have thousands of photographs I've simply never sorted. I finally dumped most of my files this past year.

Have I ever traced anything? Of course, especially if I have to re-use a shot or setting over and over. Making extra work for myself is just silly. It's my job to make pictures, not to perform magical feats, like copying one shot after another over and over without making a mistake.

However, for almost 15 years of my career, I refused to copy or trace anything, and did not even own a lightbox. On the one hand, that forced me to learn to carefully examine what I saw. On the other hand, it was a stupid hill on which many deadlines died.

Only after I realized many professional artists had lightboxes and overhead projectors did I finally break down and get one.

The one thing I use my lightbox for more than anything is for tracing my thumbnail sketches to the final drawing paper. Instead of trying to capture the liveliness of the original sketch by copying what I see - only bigger - I blow the thumbnail up to the size I want the final art to be, then I trace over the thumbnail using a lightbox onto the final drawing paper.

Here's a look at thumbnails from the graphic novel Neil Gaiman's Snow, Glass, Apples.

I enlarged these on my computer to fit onto 11"x14" paper, and traced the thumbs before finishing the art which was drawn in pen and ink and colored in Photoshop.

While I obviously made some changes, the essence of the thumbs is there in the final work. Tracing my thumbs retains some of the looseness of the original sketches, which is often lost otherwise.

So, there is a valid purpose to tracing at times, though in my opinion, too much tracing can weaken drawing ability, substitute for developing skills, and make the work kind of stiff.

If you want to, I'm not your judge. But it's weird to me that people think I must be faking my skills in some way.

Ironically, the word cartoon comes from the Italian word cartone, which is a large heavy sheet of paper - also, the origin of the word carton.

Preparatory sketches were made on this paper which was then transferred to the final work surface via either tracing or by stamping little holes in the paper through which dust was sprinkled, recreating the contours of the drawing for the artist to follow.

So the origin of the word cartoon comes from a process often used...for tracing.

#snow glass apples #chivalry #neil gaiman #drawing

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barcaatthemoon · 7 months ago

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first || barcelona x teen!reader ||

you score your first club goal.

months of hard work had finally seemed to pay off. you were grateful for the opportunity to just wear the barcelona colors officially, but it was nice to not just come to practice. it was a huge deal for you to finally be on the sub list. you had been waiting all season for this moment, and while it wasn't a start, it was definitely a big step for you.

"are you cold?" alexia asked as she placed a hand on your knee. you had been bouncing your knee from the moment that you sat down on the bench. nearly 60 minutes into the game, and it hadn't stopped. a few of the other girls thought it was sort of funny, especially since you had been a bundle of nerves on the bus.

"no, just restless. do you think that jona will really sub me in?" you asked hopefully. alexia nodded, knowing that they'd need you soon. there wasn't a lot of time left in the game, but quite a few of the girls were looking a little sluggish. there had been quite a few games in fairly rapid succession to each other.

"here, why don't you warm up a bit, okay?" alexia suggested. you got up from your seat immediately. alexia watched as you stretched and moved around to get the blood flowing throughout your body. jona pulled both you and alexia off of the bench to replace lucy and keira.

playing in the backline was still very new for you. whenever you had been signed, the team put you in the midfield. it was where you had always been, but over the course of the season, you had proven your defensive prowess.

in all honesty, you were sure that they deemed you too clumsy to be an attacking player. your size made you formidible, and if they could keep your movement limited, nobody would know how easy it was to get you to trip over your own two feet. that was the game plan, and you could only hope that by the time that the next season rolled around, you moved a bit more fluidly with your extra lank.

"ready for your first corner?" ona asked as she put her hand on your back. you smiled down at the older player and nodded. corners were always your favorite part of practice. it was one of the rare times that they let you play things forward.

"watch out, it's going straight for you," alexia warned you. she disguised it as a quick hug, something that nobody thought anything of. everybody had seen her being affectionate with you on social media, often treating you as if you were her baby sister. in a lot of ways, you felt like the team's baby sister, each one of those girls protecting you like you were one of their own.

the ball was crossed over beautifully directly towards you. jumping up, you were able to get a head on it well before anybody else. you couldn't see it going into the net since you had closed your eyes when you came up, but you could hear the crowd going absolutely wild. you just barely managed to land steadily on your feet, only to be knocked over by your teammates seconds later.

barcelona was up, over two goals ahead of your opponents when your header made it three. still, this was your very first goal in your very first game. to score on your debut was a dream come true, one that you thought wouldn't happen when jona told you where you'd be playing for the season. however, as you felt several bodies crash excitedly into yours, you realized exactly what happened.

there wasn't enough time for the other team to score, much less even things out. the final whistle blew, and you found yourself gravitating over towards the bench. all of the adrenaline was catching up to you, and a part of you felt tired. you had barely played at all, but the excitement from your goal mixed with your anxiety to threaten to knock you on your ass for the day.

"hey, don't fall asleep on me superstar. we're having a whole party in your honor for that one," patri said. she grabbed onto your chin and peppered your cheek in kisses. jana mirrored her, both women laughing as you tried to shove them away. it seemed like everybody took after the two of them and crowded around you.

"nice header baby bird," pina complimented you. you shook your head at the nickname. you didn't know what to do with all the attention as it started to get a bit overwhelming.

"walk with me," frido said as she reached her hand towards you. a couple of the girls tried to follow, but they shrunk back at the glare they got from the older player. "that was a good goal you had out there, and i saw that tackle. you're playing a lot better than you were at first."

"thank you, the extra practice has been paying off," you told her. frido was glad to hear it. she knew how hard it was for you to be so far away from home while playing in spain. spain was a lot different from norway, but you had ingrid to look out for you. and if ingrid was indisposed for any reason, frido was there by your side.

today, ingrid was with mapi for an appointment. it was supposed to be mapi's last one before she could test for her clearance. you had wanted to go with them, but it was because of ingrid's absence that jona had called you in as a sub in the first place. they had promised to call you after the game, but you weren't sure how long after it would be. mapi wasn't sure how long her appointment would take, and ingrid had planned on taking mapi out on a date after.

"i know that you wanted them here," frido said. you shrugged it off, knowing that sometimes it was better to be mature about not getting what you wanted. you were more than a little hurt that both mapi and ingrid, who had become like your mothers, were missing this game, but you understood. they couldn't be there for everything, and one day, you knew that they wouldn't be there at all for you.

"it would have been nice for them to see me score that goal, but i have all of you here too. you're just as much my family, and part of my journey as they are." you felt frido pull you into a hug, holding you tightly in her arms. she led you to the locker room, allowing for you to get your shower in before everybody else came in. it was nice to get hot water for once, the other players claiming seniority whenever it came to showering most of the time.

their celebrations for you continued onto the bus, even as you sat with alexia, who was taking you in for the night. she let you fall asleep on her shoulder, shushing your teammates whenever they'd get too rowdy. sandra carried you off of the bus and to alexia's car when you got back to barcelona, allowing for you to sleep all the way to alexia's house. you were groggy as you followed her inside, but quickly woke right back up at the sight of alexia's sister sitting on the couch with olga, the two of them quick to congratulate you.

"i am going to go get us a snack. mapi wanted me to let you know that she saw your tackle earlier, and she was very impressed," alexia said. she pressed a kiss to your forehead as she passed where you settled back on her couch.

"i am sure that she is. mapi taught me how to do that after all," you laughed. alexia rolled her eyes, having had to read through several texts of mapi being insufferable about having "taught you the most important skills" since you had joined the team. alexia thought that it was bullshit, that you had learned much more than just what mapi had taught you, but she kept quiet and allowed for her friend to have her moment.

#teen reader #woso fanfics #woso x reader #woso imagine #barcelona femeni x reader #barcelona femeni imagine #barcelona x reader #barcelona imagine #platonic fic

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luveline · 1 year ago

Note

𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐞 —send me a shy!reader request for any character (with a plot) and I'll write a >1k drabble

Can I request shy!reader and Derek? Maybe where she's really shy about pda but she finally works up the courage to hold his hand or kiss his cheek in public and he just melts <3

tysm! ♡

"Penelope, I'm not wearing that."

Penelope waves the custom t-shirt she's made at him threateningly. "Yes, you will, because you love me and you love Hotch and he deserves our support."

She's created matching garb for their entire team as well as any partner willing to support Hotch. "This is his second triathlon, and he's very much going to remember last year's triathlon and his now ex-girlfriend. Plus, it's for charity!" She slaps his chest with the shirt. "Put it on."

You smile at his reaction, the fond clench of his jaw, his rolling eyes as he peels out of his t-shirt. The smile quickly stifles, mouth dry as the Sahara in seconds. The tight pack of his abs ripple in the sunlight, dark skin practically glistening.

"It's too hot for this," he complains.

Penelope nudges you. "He can say that again."

Derek squeezes into his shirt and laughs. "This better be the wrong size on accident."

"Maybe." She leans down to grab another shirt from her tote bag, saying, "This should be the right size, sweetcheeks."

Yours is big enough to wear over your original blouse easily. Derek glares at you without any real malice and swings an arm around your shoulders, dropping a kiss at your temple. "Looking good."

Being with Derek has never made any sense to you. Or rather, Derek being with you has never made any sense —you'd be a fool to turn him down and he's a fool to think you're good enough. He's ridiculously attractive, a bombshell of a man, with ambition and a good heart, sweetness and heat alike practically drip from him. You're confused by him often and melted by him more, a melted puddle of a girl as he walks you to the crowd of BAU employees waiting at the finish line to cheer for Hotch.

Jack and Henry stand together, though Henry, JJ's son, is much smaller. Will crouches next to him to make sure he doesn't run anywhere he isn't supposed to, while JJ stands with Emily and Spencer, all already bedecked in their supportive t-shirts.

There's a chorus of hellos as you join them. Everybody Derek cares about that isn't in Chicago stands in a bubble, and it terrifies you like always. You want to make a good impression. You don't want to let Derek down.

Not that he cares about any of that. He knew you were shy to aching when you met and he has no intentions of trying to change you. "Sorry we're late," he says. "My fault."

Actually, it's your fault. You got the time wrong. But Derek doesn't embarrass you by telling them —your affection for him swells.

He keeps a hand behind your back for a while. You sway under the huge sun beating down and on tired feet for a while, Hotch your saviour as he appears across the finish line. Will takes Jack to meet him, and Jack, the poor thing, gets a super sweaty hug.

Hotch isn't first to finish, but he runs a good time.

"Better than last year's!" Emily cheers.

Penelope wolf whistles. You clap your hands with Spencer, pleased if feeling a little out of place.

"Maybe I'll sign up for next year's triathlon," Derek says, grinning.

You know he's kidding, but Derek could do anything he set his mind to. You go on tiptoes and kiss his cheek. "I'd cheer you on," you say earnestly, stepping back, wiping the tiny balmy kiss print you've left behind.

Derek looks at you plainly startled. Your heart skips a beat, worried you've overstepped.

"Can I get another one of those, or are they in limited supply?" he asks, warm and quiet, not an inch of bravado to be seen.

You turn back the unfolding scene of victory in front of you, "Maybe later."

Derek is noticeably sweet on you for hours, and declares at dinner that he'll be joining Hotch in next year's triathlon. You reach for his hand under the table and nod along. You'd love to see him at the finish line.

#derek morgan #derek morgan x reader #derek morgan x you #derek morgan x y/n #derek morgan x fem!reader #derek morgan imagine #derek morgan fluff #derek morgan fanfic #derek morgan oneshot #derek morgan scenario #derek morgan drabble #derek morgan fic #derek morgan fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader #luveline's 40k party

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thyme-in-a-bubble · 26 days ago

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snow white

kinktober, day fifteen

a/n: i really wanted to play around with a fairytale this kinktober season and i came up with maybe too many ideas for a bunch of different ones, but this one just stuck with me for months, so i had to go with this one.

summary: that was often how it was with your seven miners. In certain moments, they just became something else, something entirely different and much more ethereal than seven mortal men, but instead fused together into a sea of love that they let you float in.

warnings: snow white!reader x various, dark!prince!billy russo, miners!steve rogers, bucky barnes, thor odinson, miguel o'hara, marc spector, matt murdock, frank castle, dark content, smut, fairytale retelling, innocent!reader, references to loss of virginity, arranged engagement, assassination attempt, violence, poison apple, kidnapping, somno, polyamory, reverse harem, time jump (for domestic and slutty purposes), kissing, fingering, dirty talk, size kink, manhandling, overstimulation, oral, handjob, squirting, multiple orgasms, gangbang, penetrative sex, anal, double penetration, double penetration in one hole, unprotected sex, creampie, dark ending

word count: 6746

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

masterlist | join my taglist | kinktober 2024

Once upon a time, there lived a princess.

You, to be exact.

However, your day-to-day life, that wasn’t a part of you that one could define as something very regal, not lately, not since your father had died and left you in the hands of his late wife, a vain woman he had only married a short time prior to his passing.

There wasn’t much you were allowed to do any longer as your stepmother was perhaps a bit too overprotective of you in her own cold way, even though many of the chores the sea of servants that buzzed within the castle took care of, that for some reason wasn’t off limits to you, if not encouraged by the queen.

But it was all out of love, wasn’t it?

“Oh, there you are!” your gaze fluttered up to find the prim and familiar figure stalking towards you in the gardens, “what in the world are you doing out by this ghastly old well?”

“Prince William,” you stiffened up slightly at his presence and swiftly did a curtsy, “w-what are you doing here?”

“Ah, come on, Snow,” his palm brushed against the edge of the stone well, briefly cleaning it a bit before he leaned against it, “how many times do I have to tell you to call me Billy?”

“Your Highness,” you swallowed nervously, “I’m just not sure that would be completely appropriate. You deserve to be paid with the utmost respect.”

“Oh, I agree,” a sly smirk slithered across his chiselled features, “though, I do think my fiancé should be allowed just a little leniency.”

“Oh,” you put on a smile for the royal, “you got engaged? Congratulations! Is it to someone I know?”

“I’d sure hope so,” he grinned, and the next words that rolled off his tongue caused your face to drop, “it’s you.”

Blinking back at him, you couldn’t help but flinch as he stepped to get closer to you.

“…excuse me?” you breathed, your hand fluttering up to the neckline of your modest gown as you felt your heart begin to hammer in your chest.

“We’re to be married,” he caught your hand and kept on smiling, “I just sorted the last of the details out with your mother a few moments ago.”

“Stepmother,” you corrected him hazily before uttering, “I–… how come I didn’t know about any of this? Why didn’t anyone think to ask me what I wanted?”

Billy’s face then scrunched up at your question, as if it was the strangest of reactions to have at such news, “well you know now.”

“That’s–,” you stared back at him, your eyes wide and horrified before you ripped your arm back out of his hold, “no.”

“What?”

“No, I don’t wanna marry you,” the words flowed out of your lungs.

But to your astonishment, the prince of the neighbouring kingdom then only chuckled, “what do you mean you don’t want to marry me? Of course you do, everyone does.”

“Well, I don’t.”

Slowly, he seized your arm in a bruising grip before inching closer to you and leaning down to sternly whisper in your ear, “you better get rid of this attitude before you become my wife.”

The following week when the queen suggested that you go for a walk through the nearby woods, an activity you’d formerly thought to be banned as all your previous pleas throughout the years had failed, you nearly stumbled as you rushed to accept the opportunity.

Where this newfound kindness had come from that you had no clue of, though you weren’t going to argue now as the chains around you slowly began to slacken.

The queen’s protective nature for you stayed fast however when she sent a guard to accompany you, though one you’d never encountered before as you spent so much time in the castle that you knew all of the others by name. Perhaps he was just new?

Though when you eventually came upon a clearing and you decided to take a small break in that peaceful and serene glen, it all changed so quickly that you nearly got whiplash.

One moment, you were grinning up at the treetops, whistling back to the birds building a nest up there, and the next, the guard shadowing you had raised a dagger up high and lunged it down upon you. Thankfully, luck was for once on your side and you managed to twist just enough for it to miss your sternum and instead slice through your sleeve and cut your shoulder.

When you tried to run, a shrill scream erupting your frame, the knight caught your arm before you could manage to escape.

Though just as all hope seemed lost, when the dappled sunlight caught and reflected in the shiny blade as he rose it back up high, it never pierced your heart as a pickaxe instead suddenly appeared from out of nowhere, flying through the air and lodging itself right above the guard’s brow.

He stayed standing for a second, blood trickling down his face, before the warrior’s body fell backwards and collapsed on the forest floor.

Your frame shook like a leaf on the wind as you stood there, eyes wide with horror, watching his brain leak and stain the moss below your feet.

“Are you alright, my lady?” a deep voice called from behind you, though it still took you a moment before you were able to rip yourself out of your petrified state.

As you slowly twisted around, you saw seven men standing at the edge of the clearing, all of them except the blonde one in the middle with a pickaxe clutched in their hands.

“Are you hurt?” the miner missing his tool spoke again, taking a ginger step closer.

Still reeling, unable to fathom that you nearly just lost your life, you blinked, “I–… I–…” though just continued to stand there, frozen in the middle of the storm.

“You’re bleeding,” a dark-haired man further down the line uttered before the muddled confusion that bloomed on your horrified features caused him to gently gestured to your arm and guide your gaze down to your shoulder.

“O-oh…” you blinked back at the gash, though still couldn’t pierce through the fog to do anything more. As your glossy eyes flickered back up to gaze at your heroes, the woods around you began to spin as you then blubbered, “you saved me… I–… I–…” before the whole forest went black and you collapsed into a pair of quick arms.

“Wow, it’s alright,” a voice washed over you as soon as you came to, “you’re okay.”

After your eyes had found the source of the deep timbre, they then flickered around to take in the unfamiliar home you now found yourself in.

“Where am I?” you asked hesitantly as you sat up in the bed you’d been planted on. Looking around the space, it wasn’t the only one as the whole room was filled with enough sleeping arrangements for all of the strangers.

“Don’t worry, you’re safe,” the long golden locks on the man sitting by your feet rustled slightly as he raised up both hands in a gesture of goodwill, “you’re in our home,” he informed you before his neck twisted and he shouted out the open bedroom door, “hey guys! She’s awake!”

As the rest of the men from the forest began to filter into the dormitory, your legs curled up beneath the blanket and you swiftly hugged your knees to your chest.

“Hey, how are you feeling?” one of them asked in a careful tone.

“I–…” you felt your heart thump in your chest as your wide eyes danced between the burly figures, “what do you–, w-why did you take me with you?”

Taking a step forward, a dark-haired one said, “well, we couldn’t in good conscience just leave you back there and let you bleed next to your assassin,” he then tilted his head, “plus my healing supplies were all back here.”

As you glanced down to discover your slashed sleeve cut off and missing with a bandage instead wrapped around the ghastly cut on your upper arm, you then blinked back up at the stranger and asked, “you’re a healer?”

“No, not really, I’m a miner, we all are,” he gestured to the others.

“Yeah, we work in the mines out west on the other side of the village,” the one leaning against the doorframe shared.

You faintly recalled the mines they spoke of, though you hadn’t been out there since you were a child, the memory however of the glimmering jewels it produced still sparkled brightly in your mind.

“Hey, do you mind me asking,” the one standing beside the pickaxe-throwing blonde spoke, “why in the world would a royal guard want to kill you? I mean, forgive me if your looks are deceiving, but you look like just an innocent young girl.”

Averting your gaze to the quilted blanket draped over your form, you uttered, “it’s probably because my stepmother commanded him to…”

“Wow…” one of them breathed, “she has that kinda power? Then you must be, what–, some kind of lady?”

“Princess, actually,” you blinked up at them and watched as they all froze up, instantly growing so quiet that you would have been able to hear a single pin drop in the cottage, “thank you all so very much for saving me. I can’t even begin to fathom what would have happened if you hadn’t intervened.”

“Oh, well…” the blonde one in the middle shifted slightly, visibly nervous at the discovery of who you truly were, “you’re welcome, your–, uhm, highness.”

“Please, just call me Snow. That’s what everyone does,” you waved a hand and offered him a soft smile, “what are your names?”

“Well, I’m Steve,” the one who’d thrown the pickaxe pressed his palm to his broad chest, “and that there is Bucky, Thor and Marc,” he gestured to the other miners, “and that’s Matthew, Frank and Miguel.”

“Miguel,” you spoke the name of your healer, “thank you for patching up my arm.”

“Does it feel alright?” he glanced down at the bandage, he too clearly not having a clue how one should act around a royal, “because I could go get some herbs if you–”

“No, thank you, I think I’ll manage” you gently declined before uttering, “although, I–… what’s to happen now? I can’t just go back to the castle, I’d be dead within minutes.”

“Don’t you have anyone you trust somewhere else? Someone you could stay with?” the one named Matthew asked.

The only person your mind managed to scrounge up was the prince you’d been unwillingly promised to, and he wasn’t just an individual you didn’t trust, but also one you feared.

“No…”

“Uh…” Marc exhaled before his glance flickered across the rest, “would you excuse us for a moment?”

And as you offered a nod, they all filtered back out the bedroom and huddled up just outside the door, though you could still faintly catch a word or two in their discussion.

“Okay,” Steve crossed his burly arms across his chest when they all entered the room once more, “you can stay here for tonight, and then tomorrow we’ll help you come up with a plan.”

The following day, when all the miners had gone off to the mountains for the day’s work, they’d said their goodbyes before leaving you in the cottage, fully expecting you to no longer be there once they returned.

But you didn’t leave, you couldn’t have. Where would you have run off to?

So instead, to both try and convince the entire group of you staying, yet also in a makeshift attempt at thanking them for how they’d come to your aid, you spend the day cleaning their messy abode and welcoming them home to a dining table brimming with a roasted feast, a simple comfort none of them had seen in a while.

It had only been one of them who hadn’t instantly jumped onto the unanimous agreement to let you become a part of their household, but he swiftly received an elbow to the rib to help change his tune.

Not long passed before you soon grew close, and one night, after weeks of you experiencing a sensation you’d never even known existed, something unfamiliar that each and every one of them evoke and flooded your senses with, you finally couldn’t hold your tongue any longer as your innocence had begun to thrust you into the abyss of worry.

You still hadn’t received a permanent sleeping arrangement even though you’d been here for a while, each one of the miners still took turns letting you borrow one of their simple beds, all of them lined up along the perimeter of the shared bedroom, and let you rest there for the night while they took the humble couch.

So as you sat on your bed for the night and your gaze shadowed the men as finished getting ready for the night, shedding their clothing and washing up in a small basin by one of the windows, the unfamiliar feeling fluttered once more in your lower belly and drove you to part your lips and utter, “hey Miguel?” you caught the attention of the healer of the lot, “I think there might be something wrong with me…”

Patting his damp face dry with a small rag, he brought it down upon his shoulder as he furrowed his dark brows over at you, “why would you think that?”

Sucking in a sharp breath, you met his glance, “I feel strange…”

“Strange how?” he took a seat at the foot of the mattress you were curled up on, “explain it to me.”

“Well,” you began hesitantly, “ever since I got here, since I met you all, this weird feeling keeps bubbling up inside of me, like I’m about to faint or something, like I can’t think, and all I can focus on is just this odd tingling sensation almost, like–, I don’t know how to explain it, I know it sounds weird, but I swear, something’s going on, I don’t know what, but it’s weird.”

The man’s head then promptly tilted to the side and you heard him exhale, “oh, honey…”

Your explanation also caught the attention of the rest of the miners and even conjured a small laugh in some, though Steve swiftly stepped in and barked, “hey! Shut it!” rapidly putting a holt to Bucky and Marc’s amusement.

Placing a palm on your blanket-covered shin, Miguel then uttered gently, “I think what you’re describing isn’t something bad.”

“Are you sure?” you sat up a bit more.

“Positive,” he nodded, trying his best to keep a straight face unlike some of the men behind him who still struggled even after getting scalded.

“So, I’m not sick?”

“No,” he shook his head, “you’re not.”

“Your Highness,” Frank then spoke up, “have you never–, uhm, been with someone else?”

“What do you mean?” your brows knitted together.

“Okay, uh…” Thor sighed softly, taking your confusion as enough of an answer, “have you ever–, let’s say, kissedsomeone before?”

“Well, yeah, I’ve been kissed before,” your thoughts drifted to Prince Billy, though none of those times had stirred any sensations of this sort, “but I’ve never felt like this, not ever,” your gaze then danced between and caught each of the stares the seven miners directed at you, “what’s going on? Why are you all looking at me like that?”

“Have you touched yourself while you feel like this?” your eyes suddenly grew at Bucky’s bold question, “does your little honeypot get all wet from this feeling?” and when you found yourself too stunned to conjure an answer, he went on, this time with a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips, “I mean, if you’d like, one of us could help you. Teach you how to make it feel better…”

“You know how to make it better?” you blinked back at him.

“Oh yeah,” his gaze dipped a bit as his grin grew wider.

“Do you want one of us to help you?” you then heard Steve offer.

And as your head began to rock in a soft nod, Marc asked, “which one do you want?”

But as you stared around at all of them, you murmured, “I–… I don’t know…”

“Just pick the one that gives you the most butterflies,” Matt tried to aid your decision, “the one that makes you feel like your heart lives between your thighs.”

“…do I have to pick?” you asked quietly as you blinked around at all of them, now clustered by the small bed, “couldn’t you all just help me?”

“…you want all of us to help you?” Miguel’s head dipped slightly as he tilted forward in surprise.

“At once?” Frank asked.

And as you offered them a nod, they all exchanged looks, silently agreeing before Steve uttered, “alright.”

With all of the miners surrounding the bed, they swiftly kneeled down on the floor in a half-moon around you before they began.

Before Marc, Thor and Frank the furthest from you grabbed a hold of the blanket draped over you and began to tug it down and let it crumble below your feet, Matt and Miguel to your right gently prepared you and began to undo your confusion.

Each of their touches were feathery in the beginning as their fingers ghosted over your frame. At first, it wasn’t even in that scandalous of places as Steve and Matt even continued to hold your hands long after the thin chemise you wore had been tugged at, the neckline pushed down to expose your boobs, heaving with every fierce breath you sucked in, and the skirts shoved up, letting the linen bunch well above your hips to uncover the place where the dizzying sensation peaked to unimaginable heights.

When the first touch fluttered between your legs, your eyes swiftly flickered up to find Bucky and Steve’s directly to your left as the pleasure was one you’d never even thought possible.

You rapidly melted into the bliss as lingering embarrassment faded away and you soon let them crack you open even further, folding up your legs to grant them all better access to your haven.

Even before your eyes fluttered closed, the job of deciphering which hand belonged to who was an impossible task. Floating in the sea of touches, not a millimetre of your skin was left unexplored, and neither were your untouched holes as they all turned you so molten that at one point everyone had at least one finger warm within you at once.

Four digits stretched out your lips and both gave your mouth something to drool around and also let your moans melt against their flesh. Three of them slipped in and worked in tandem to stretch out your virgin cunt. They’d even gotten you so relaxed that two managed to sneak a finger inside of your tight little ass, plugging you up completely.

And when the still unfamiliar high began to bubble within you and creep near, worry first began to billow out of you once more, though after some soothing sentences and an ask of trust, they carried you through the overwhelming ecstasy till you were trembling in their hands and begging them to grant you that gift one more time, like an addict, already craving that sweetness once again.

ONE YEAR LATER

“Ah-ha-ha!” Thor’s jovial rumble was the first sign you got that any of the fellows had returned after a day at the mines, “come here, princess!”

As he entered the cottage, arms spread out wide, he excitedly caught you in a hug and lifted you up as he swung you around till you became no more than an ethereal giggle in his hold.

“Oh, no,” you complained light-heartedly through your laugh as his stale smell of sweat mixed with soot flooded your senses, “you’re so dirty!” you tried to glance down at your dress to see if any of the grime from the mine had transferred.

Letting out a chuckle as he only tightened his hold around your frame, “you love it,” he tilted his head out of the crook of your neck and planted a kiss to your lips.

“You’re not–,” you continued your giggle even as his own mouth tried to smother the sound, “Thor, you need to bathe first.”

“Oh, really?” he cocked his head and slyly narrowed his eyes, “you sure you don’t wanna repeat the welcome home you gave me yesterday where you couldn’t wait? I mean, I could barely get in the door before you had your lips on me, struggling to fit my balls inside that little mouth of yours?”

His lips first pressed against your now hot cheek before they wandered across in a straight line down to your own, not simmering down his eagerness even as the rest of his fellow miners began to filter into the cabin.

“Oh, so that’s why you ran ahead,” Marc’s sigh caused you to break the peck, “of course.”

Still entangled in Thor’s strong arms, you glanced over at the familiar men who crossed the threshold and slowly began to set down their tools and peel off their muddy boots.

“Heya, boys,” a warm bubble burst within you as you flashed them all a smile. Attempting to slip out of the burly hug, Thor still kept his palm interlocked in your own as you made your way around through the crowd and began to greet the others, “how was the mine today?”

“It was fine,” Frank muttered in your ear when you hugged him.

And as your free arm lastly found Steve’s broad shoulder in an embrace, his low voice tickled the side of your neck as he exhaled, “hi Snow.”

“Hi,” you pressed a soft kiss to his bearded cheek.

As you retracted and let Thor pull you back against his warmth, Miguel asked, “so, what’s for dinner tonight?” as Thor leaned back against the sturdy dining table and dragged you with him, half planting you in his lap as he leaned you back against him.

Though as the softness of your bottom came to rest against the miner’s pelvis, a palpable hardness distracted you even through the layers of your dress, “uhm, I’ve got a lentil stew going over the fire,” your breathing began to grow unsteady as he discreetly grinded you down against his desperation, “it should be done soon.”

“Good,” Miguel smiled, haven not yet noticed the nefarious activities that had begun right under his own nose, “I’m starving.”

“What else have you gotten up to today?” Matt asked as he sat down on the bench where Marc had already planted himself, “did you begin that book we were talking about?”

“I–, uh, I started it, but I didn’t get that far,” your words became a struggle to form as you tried to fight through the fog Thor thrust you into, “ended up taking a nap instead.”

“Well, that’s good,” Bucky noted, “you were tossing and turning so much last–,” though his sentence then promptly crumbled as a soft whimper finally slipped out past your lips and drew his attention to the way Thor’s hands on your hips subtly rocked you down against him, “seriously?” he swiftly scalded him, “you couldn’t keep it in your pants for even two seconds?”

“Right,” Thor scoffed, “like I'm the only one who’s desperate,” he then buried his grasp in your skirts and before you had the chance to protest, picked it up to prove his point.

It was frankly a bit embarrassing how wet you already were, though when Thor grabbed ahold of your thighs and lifted you up, your back plastered against his chest as his hold on you spread you wide for all to see, your cunt couldn’t help but drool for them so fiercely that even the one furthest away from you could catch a glimpse of the glimmer glinting back at him in a lewd plea.

“Hm…” Bucky hummed warmly as he kneeled down before you, though only let his palm come up to ghost against your inner thigh and didn’t grant you the sweet relief of petting your pussy as she cried out for his touch, “your Highness, are you sure it wasn’t something else you were doing all day while we were off at work?”

“I–,” an airy chuckle innocently escaped your lungs, “what are you implying?”

“Well, either you were too impatient to wait for us,” you sucked in a breath as his hand finally drifted up to offer your core the softest of pets, teasing you further into madness, “or just the mere sound of the front door opening got you dripping the way that you are right now…”

“So, which is it, princess?” Frank smirked, arms crossed as he leaned back against the wall beside the fireplace, “are you a whore or is it just for us?”

“You already know the answer to that…” you hazily smiled, though swiftly let out a whimper as Bucky removed his hand, denying you of any further pleasure. However, before you could part your lips in a complaint, Thor set you back down on your now wobbly feet.

Your gaze found Steve’s as he took a seat beside Marc, unlike the rest of the men who began to swarm around you, their broad hands swiftly reaching for your dress. It nearly didn’t even get the chance to drop back down and cover you from how Thor had torn it up, before they nearly ripped it to shreds.

And when no fabric was left to conceal your frame, your moment with your feet on the ground turned out to be more fleeting than you’d thought as both Frank and Miguel then shifted to stand behind you and their grasps found your form, first guiding your arms around their necks for support before they plucked you up.

As Matt stepped up and seized your flaming cheeks to dip his lips down to yours, a whisper then washed over you as the sweet kiss ended, “can I have a taste?” and as your head began to nod, your nose momentarily nuzzled against his own before his knees buckled.

Both Thor and Bucky enveloped a hand around your ankles, keeping you spread wide even as Matthew dropped down and made you squirm as his hot breath fanned across your glistening core.

As your lips parted in a gasp, staring down at Matt as he dipped down to kiss your puffy pearl, in your periphery you just managed to spot how everyone’s free hand had found the tent in their pants, squeezing it for an ounce of relief as they watched you intently.

When Matt’s tongue lapped through your petals, it wasn’t till he tilted his chin and sucked your clit into his mouth that your gaze fluttered up to find Marc’s across the room.

“O-oh, fuck,” you moaned into the cottage, “I need–, I–, I need more–,” the plea left your lips as you tried to keep your stare lock. Though the love pecks felt incredible, it was bordering the line of crude torture, only tickling at your senses and not granting you the sweet relief the deepest depths of you yearned for so fiercely.

It seemed like an eternity that Marc took to get up from his seat and actually cross the small room, though when he did, his palm briefly patted Matthew’s shoulder and caused the kisses to cease.

“How much more, princess?” Marc asked as Matt got up and let him switch places.

Though when your answer came in the form of your gaze dropping to his hard length, freed and heavy in his tight fist, one of the men holding you up murmured in your ear, “you want him to fuck you, huh? Is that what you want?” Frank’s deep timbre seeped directly into your bones as his lips dipped down to nip at your neck.

“Uh-huh,” you nodded hazily, keeping your eyes glued as Marc stepped up and briefly swept the bulbous head of his cock through your folds.

For a second, you thought it had been Marc himself who had slowly thrust his entirety inside of you, though in actuality when Miguel and Frank’s hold on you tightened, they’d been the ones to tilt your body just as the girth caught your entrance, and lower you down on it in one fell motion.

“There you go, Snow,” Bucky breathed as your eyes fluttered at the stretch. Halting his palming of himself, Bucky’s hand soothingly swept up the length of you till it found your tit and cupped it gently, his calloused thumb stretching up to flick against your pebbly nipple and get your eyes to blink back open.

Marc’s efforts were purposely slow and he gently began to warm you up for what you expected was in store. Though on one of his long and deep strokes, plunging all the way inside of your little pussy before yanking himself out completely, you only blinked and when your eyes fluttered back open, it wasn’t Marc’s cock that was buried deep within you, but instead the last man to join the fray.

“S-Steve, o-oh!” your head tilted back slightly as his fat girth split you open.

“Oh, how do you always feel better than I recall?” Steve groaned, the tip of him already bumping against your cervix.

“It’s that fucking princess pussy,” Thor grunted, “I swear it’s like magic or something.”

“No matter how many of us try and fit inside of you at once, we just can’t ruin you,” Miguel kissed your cheek, “you just snap right back and we have to stretch you all the way back out again.”

Steve, Marc and Matt before you then took turns, fucking you slowly and building a rhythm till they became like a river, each of them only sinking in and letting their balls tap against your slick skin before they pulled back out and let the other one take a dive. As the silky pattern pushed you closer to the peak and made you dazed out of your mind, you stopped being able to tell who was fucking you when, as they all just flowed together and worked your body as one soul being. That was often how it was with your seven miners. In certain moments, they just became something else, something entirely different and much more ethereal than seven mortal men, but instead fused together into a sea of love that they let you float in.

Once your first of many orgasms washed over you and rocked through your soul, your body was set back down, though only for a mere moment before Bucky picked you up into his arms and carried you with him as he lowered himself onto one of the long benches that stretched out on either side of the dining table.

As he settled you atop of him and slipped inside your still throbbing cunt, your head tilted up in the direction of the men whose hard lengths were still glistening with your juices and your hands fluttered up to motion for them, grabbing for their girths, way before your fingers could reach them, though when they did, Steve didn’t let your touch linger on himself but instead plucked up your face and parted your lips with his cock, letting your hands take care of Matt and Marc on either side of him while he gently fucked your mouth.

“Oh, shit,” Frank then appeared before you, wedging himself in beside Steve’s bulky form, “share some of that sugar,” his palm found your cheek and stroked it softly. As your lips left Steve with an audible pop, Frank’s fingers drifted up to bury themselves in your locks before he guided you to him and groaned as he finally felt you swallow his cock, “yes…”

However, what you didn’t expect was how Steve’s hand too fluttered up to tangle itself in the other side of your hair before they both took over your head’s movements, passing you back and forth between the both of them, though only granting themselves one long bob at a time.

When a pair of fingers softly swept over the last of your holes, your eyebrows knit together at the familiar teasing.

“What do you say, Snow?” you heard Thor utter from behind you as he brought his palm down to smack the curve of your ass, watching intently as Miguel’s fingertips rub against you, only shyly dipping inside the hole just above where Bucky split you open, “exactly how much more are you in the mood for today?”

And when you took your chance to catch your breath, you shot back your needy answer through your heaving intakes of air, “all of it.”

It wasn’t till Miguel let out a gravelly groan that you knew which one had gotten the chance to claim your ass first. When a dollop of his spit landed upon your skin, his thumb wasted no time to soar up and rub it in, swiping over your little rosebud as it stretched to take his girth.

The task of keeping up your attention to the four miners at your head became an impossible task as they gave your mouth a break for your breathless moans to flow freely and they instead came to your aid and helped guide your hands around to grant them all a bit of affection.

With both of your holes snuggly filled up, you felt yourself near the edge once more, though it was Thor who pushed you over it as his hand coiled around your waist and snaked down to find your swollen clit in a lavish pattern.

Though when you buried your face in the crook of Bucky’s neck and trembled between his and Miguel’s burly forms, Thor’s touch dissipated and though you half expected him to join the rest up top, it still didn’t manage to surprise you what he opted for instead.

“Holy shit!” you shakily gasped, your palm nearly slapping Bucky in the chest as you felt Thor angle himself behind you and press his cock in beside Miguel’s, who’s dick was already more than enough for you to handle on its own.

“Shh,” Bucky tilted your chin down for you to catch his eye, “don’t act like this is your first time, princess,” he kept his own pace selfish as the silky wall parting him from the rest grew thinner than ever, “you can take it,” his palm tapped your cheek lightly as he smiled at how you overcame the staggering sensation, “just as you always do.”

And take it you did, soon gushing all over them as the three miners emptied themselves into your holes, pumping you full and leaving you a leaky mess for the remainder to enjoy while they all found a seat to relax in and watch you descend further into madness.

It was Frank who then flipped your molten form around, planting himself on the very same bench, and twisted you around for your back to be melting down against his front. He slipped in effortlessly as the two loads that dripped out of your ass aided his fat girth as he buried himself completely, fucking the other miner’s cum that much deeper inside your utterly wrecked hole.

“How’s she doing, huh?” Steve asked as he and Matthew stepped up between your parted legs, his fingers coasting down to spread open and inspect your pussy as it too leaked, “you think she can take a bit more? You think she can take on the two of us?” he briefly pumped two of his fingers into your quivering hole as he awaited your answer.

“I–, you can try,” you panted, hazily blinking down at how Matt’s digits too came down between your thighs and began to draw rude patterns over your puffy pearl, “I don’t know if I can do it, but you can try.”

“Atta girl,” Matt flashed you a smile before each of their touches was traded out for something much more overwhelming.

With Marc as the last one remaining above your head, he stayed patient and simply stood there, stroking your hair and even dipping down to press his lips to your cheek as your poor pussy struggled to take the two cocks your loves attempted to ease in there. Though, when your eyes widened at the eventual success, the man behind you only let you stare at the severe stretch a moment before he tilted your head back, supporting it with both of his hands as you caught on and parted your lips for him.

As he fucked your face, one of his hands briefly swept down to your throat as he fed you more of his length and spotted how a dull bulge of him appeared each time you gagged around his girth.

You felt as if you’d slipped into a trance by the time everyone had gotten the chance to cum inside your sweetness, yourself falling apart around them enough times that you lost count. Though even so, as you layed there, various burly men enveloping your half-continuous form in their warmth, your eyes blinked open and spotted the few who’d gotten the privilege to go first and how they’d at some time grown hard once again and were now pumping their cocks in their fists, with all of their greedy gazes glued on you.

The seven miners always warned you to be careful while they were off at work and you were all alone in the secluded cottage. Even though it was located in the middle of the woods, they still advised you not to open the door for anyone, not even if their looks deceived you.

You should have heeded those warnings the day when an old hag knocked at the cabin door, because she didn’t turn out to be just a sweet old lady as you had thought when you first spotted her through the window, dark cloak drawn up over her grey hair as she clutched onto a heavy basket of apples in one arm and thumped her free fist against the front door.

All she’d asked for had been a sip of water, one your kindness couldn’t deny her of.

Though your gravest mistake came when you accepted her seemingly kind offer of gratitude in the form of one of her apples, because when you sank your teeth into the crisp red fruit, the produce suddenly turned rotten in your grasp, granting you a brief glance of the truth, of the potent poison it withheld, before the effects took ahold and cast you into an eternal slumber.

The enchanted sleep however wasn’t like the one you’d heard tales about as it in truth only shut down your body as the rest of your senses still stayed awake, alert and aware as ever to the things around you, though forever helpless to whatever could occur.

When your dear miners returned that day, the sight that found them utterly broke them all.

And when they discovered that you’d received a fate worse than death, a few of them had to lean on superstition in order to cope.

Though superstition was what superstition often is, just a fairytale.

No matter how many of them attempted to press their lips to yours, you stayed asleep as true love’s kiss turned out to be no more than a bedtime story.

That’s how you ended up in a blossoming glen, not far from the cottage that had grown to become your home, encased in a glass coffin.

But that’s also how he found you again…

Prince Billy had been on a hunting trip the day he stumbled over the clearing you rested in, his deepest desires he’d assumed forever lost, so perfectly on display for him in the middle of the woods and with no one to stop him from taking you with him back to his castle. You had been his fiancé after all, so if your fate as his wife included you being a little less of an active participant than you’d been previously, then so be it. He could be content with you as nothing but a living doll… in fact, perhaps the royal even preferred it…

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makoodles · 2 years ago

Text

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.”

#tsu'tey x reader #tsu'tey #avatar way of water #avatar x reader #na'vi x reader #na'vi x human #alien x human #terato #avatar 2009

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