#i s2g no one say anything

[avocadomin]

maybe i have an issue with having to scroll on social media when i come on here for the first time in a long time to avoid jjk leaks

[gibbearish]

every time i see discourse about fundraisers go by on here im just fully struck with the realization that not a single one of you people have either taken a cybersecurity fraud prevention course or bothered to take one singular second to consider the website youre on. this is the broke bitches website. none of us can afford to fund our mutuals' grocery bills, much less entire evacuation funds, and CERTAINLY not FAKE evacuation funds taking advantage of genocide victims. all this shit abt how people are deliberately choosing not to fund every post that passes their dash because they hate palestinians literally just does the work of actual scammers for them by laying the high-pressure sales tactics groundwork, and the "do you guys have any idea how hard it is to keep coming up with new attention-grabbing fundraiser posts?" ones just ring EXTREMELY hollow because YEAH! YEAH I DO! and so does everyone i follow! and everyone they follow! because all of us are FUCKING BROKE and surviving on crumbs! i just saw one that said "i make sure to keep $40 in my wallet at all times so i can give $20 to any panhandlers i see, this is the same" and its like!! good for you, thats very nice, but like!!! you need need NEED to take a step back and realize that /being able to do that/ is a position of privilege, not the default setting to be a good person. i wont discount that some people do ignore fundraisers specifically because of racism because Of Course, but like. a) yelling at them isnt gonna make them stop, or more accurately yelling at /everyone else/ isnt gonna make those people stop, and b) trying to apply that as a blanket motivation for everyone just. realistically doesnt work. not donating is a nonaction, it is the literal default status, and while in specific situations you can use CONSISTENT absence of SPECIFIC actions to track a person's motivations SOMETIMES, broadly speaking that just. doesnt work.

there are 8 billion people on this planet. most of them will never know you exist. of the ones that do, most will not be able to help you. of the ones that can, most will not be on the broke bitches website passing the same communal $20 around. consider your audience and stop shitting on fellow poor people for having the gall to need to be careful with their money. and if you are genuinely only posting your fundraiser to tumblr, like. im sorry, but you need to anticipate not reaching your goal and prepare accordingly. theres a reason the last big scam scandal people talk about actually getting the money is like. all-or-nothing era, as a website none of us have the funds to make that kind of thing happen anymore or the security to risk it. a fundraiser not meeting its goal on here is not a personal sleight against whoever made it, its just how life goes sometimes. and it's unfair and it sucks and we should help however we can, but. sometimes you just arent able to help someone else, and continuing to feel responsible serves only to torture yourself. and blaming OTHERS serves only to move that guilt from yourself off onto another person. i imagine that has to be where a lot of the vitriol comes from, is people who cant afford to donate more getting pissed at people they see as having the funds but choosing not to share them, but again, sometimes you just are not able to achieve the goals you set out towards, through no fault of the specific parties involved.

people on tumblr choosing to buy groceries rather than potentially donate to a scam are not your enemy and are not the ones facilitating a genocide. we're all victims of the same horrific system, the question is just how that system manifests its influence on each of us. poverty kills just as thoroughly as a bomb. everyone is just doing their best to survive, and as much as we like to pretend that everyone should be a perfect selfless angel that puts others before themselves no matter what, humans are by default a selfish species, and it is a lot easier to say what youd do in theory than actually do it. and there's a reason you have to put on your own oxygen mask before helping the person beside you, youre of no help to anyone if youre too dead to do anything.

[padfootastic]

Something that’s absolutely hilarious about Harry initially describing Regulus as less handsome than Sirius is that once he learns about the cave, Regulus becomes “the thin, dark Seeker who so resembled Sirius.” Regulus now looks like Sirius, when before he did not evidently. I really like the idea that the entire Black family looks super similar (RIP anyone looking a specific member because they have to play “Where’s Waldo: Black Family edition” and that’s nigh impossible to do because absolutely none of them will actually help someone find their family members. Bellatrix will be sitting at a table with Andromeda and Regulus, they have just seen Sirius three minutes ago, but they’ll tell Remus that they haven’t spoke to Sirius all week, good luck finding him), it’s just that Harry’s morality directly influences how attractive he finds them and thus how willing he is to admit that they look like Sirius.

sksksks imagining harry's scale of attraction being like 'how sirius are they on a scale of 0 to sirius.' thats it. thats his only criteria. the minute he starts finding someone attractive, its either because they look like s or they somehow morph to resemble him.

funniest part is the kid probably doesnt even realise it until someone like ron or hermione brings it up like 'err mate, dont u think ur swaying dangerously close to like. pseudo-incest here?'

(also hard agree on them looking v attractive like. i feel like they all have similar features? they make it their own in time, but for most people, theres a high degree of resemblance to the point that from afar, its v easy to get them mixed up. ofc the blacks dont make it any easier bc they have menace running thru their veins.)

[lesbianlenas]

the thing is that i HATE orientation stuff so much like i hate having to do little activities i hate having to talk to random ppl around me i hate having to pretend like i care abt the school as some sort of identity like i do not care i am just here bc i want an education……& like fr and honestly i hate heterosexual ppl so much like i really do and i’m always surrounded by heterosexuals at these types of things and they never want to talk to me & i never want to talk to them so i just feel incredibly uncomfortable the whole time. like this happened to me in both high school & college and it will inevitably happen again. i am not made for this world on god……….

[ourceliumnetwork]

people?? being niceys to me???? for no reason except loves me?????????????

it's more likely than i think, apparently.

[smallhatlogan]

i don't think "cerebral" animes should be allowed to have more than like, 14 episodes, so they have to like, make their characters shut up and use their screentime better

[shivasdarknight]

banging my head on the table

why do people have this urge to come onto other peoples' posts and make it about themselves.

the number of times ive talked about My Own Lore publicly and someones come onto My post to talk about their stuff while completely ignoring everything i said.

like do you not realize how shitty that feels. wouldnt you not want it to happen to you.

then why the FUCK do you do it to others.

[debleb]

americans try not to immediately turn anything irish into magical mystical uwu pagan faeries challenge (100% IMPOSSIBLE)

[agayconcept]

.

[stopfunkinwmyheart]

I had a custy go "can u show me where to find one of these" and hands me an iten. I'm all "yeah uh I think they're right over here" as I start walking to them. he's like "oh I got it, they're right here" right at the spot he was standing. he didn't want what he showed me, like he had asked. he wanted something else entirely.

[bansheesofinisherin2022]

went 3 hours today to my voting booth, with a running nose and slight cough - only for it to fall short 😭💀 it was a public referendum on climate neutrality of my city and 49% voted no..... how is that even possible. do you ppl even care about the planet.

[fis-paprikas]

i woke up and i have a several thousand word meta post on avatar (2009) in my head.

[slytherinslut0]

THEODORE NOTT- Little Star

Theodore Nott is an absolute fucking daddy👅 (Those eyes like if you don’t let me syd rn I s2g)

Tags: fluff, fwb, heartbreak, lovestory, passionate kissing, first time saying i love you, angst

“Theodore fucking Nott…”

His eyes darkened, transitioning to a shade of obsidian so intense they singlehandedly put the stormy midnight skies to ineffable shame; stoically crossing his arms over his chest as he mentally prepared to be torn to absolute fucking shambles after you’d found yet another reason to be mad at him.

“Are you out of your ever-loving mind?” You hissed, trying to hide the pain in your tone and replace it with some form of sarcasm. “Pansy Parkinson?”

Your throat was dry, anger flowing through your veins like fire as you paced the sparse length of his dorm room, the echoes of your shoes scuffing off the hardwood floor being the only sounds bouncing off the walls in the tension filled silence as you remained quiet for a moment, hands threading through your hair and scraping against your scalp as though you were trying to make it bleed.

“I can’t believe you almost canceled on me for Pansy Parkinson…”

Theo remained silent, letting out a slow breath from his lungs as he shifted his weight onto his other foot, leaning against the edge of his desk as he watched you pace, choosing to remain silent until you’d at least somewhat tired yourself of your anger towards him.

Theo knows you well enough by this point to know that when you’re like this, it’s absolutely pointless to try and intervene. He knows that if anything, all it would do is make matters worse.

“I’m tired, Theo…” you finally said, halting your pacing and shifting to face him. “I’m tried of this…the games, the fights, the pain…I’m tired of holding a candle for someone who doesn’t do the same for me…I’m tired of always feeling like I’m not good enough for you, like I need to always be looking over my shoulder, wondering what your next move is going to be…”

Theo’s near emotionless expression never faltered, his hardened demeanour staying set like stone as he stared at you; dark eyes piercing through your very soul as though he was seemingly seeing right past you. Part of you knew he was.

“Aren’t you going to say something?” You sighed, expressions softening. “I mean…I can’t be the only one that feels this way, Theo…aren’t you tired of this? Are you tired of me?”

“Oh, Bella Mia…I’m tired of this, certainly.” His voice was a deliciously slow drawl, sparking heat in your veins with every syllable. You immediately cursed yourself for near-instantly crumbling, merely at his use of Italian. “But tired of you, never.”

You felt your stomach twist, your chest constrict with emotion. You wanted to believe him, you wished those words were true; but you simply knew him too well at this point, knowing that this was an endless cycle of heartbreak, one that you were all-too-determined to finally bring to an end.

“Don’t bullshit me, Theo…”

you said, planting your feet firm in place, crossing your own arms over your chest now as you stared at him, silently admiring his features; the ones that have near-effortlessly made you fold so many fucking times before--his dark hair tousled and messy as it fell naturally over his forehead, the curly strands framing his sharp and intense eyes that have hardly even blinked once as he watched you--seemingly still emotionless.

“We’ve been here before…it’s never ending…you call me up when you’re bored, when you need someone, tell me pretty lies that keep me wrapped around your finger, only to ditch me until you need me again. I’m tired of being your little toy, Theo. I’m tired of being loved with the wrong intentions.”

Theo raised an eyebrow. “Come on, Stellina…you know you’re so much more than that…”

Your entire body tensed at the nickname he called you, the word fluttering from his lips like a breathless sin, drowning you in the holy water that was your desire for him as you remembered the night he’d given you that name. The first night you’d hooked up under the stars in the Astronomy tower. Little Star.

He wet his lips, pushing up from his desk as he took a few strides toward you. “If you were just my toy, why would I cuddle you to sleep every weekend? Help you study for exams? Ensure you’re eating and drinking enough?”

His words rushed you, slamming your chest like a fifty pound cement brick. Gods, how you wanted to fold. How you wanted to drop down to his feet and beg him to love you, beg him to see you for more than just a quick fuck, but you knew it would do absolutely nothing. It’d been almost two years of begging to be more, and for all your efforts, you’ve gotten no where except for the pits of Theo’s bed, only to be kicked out in the morning.

It was an endless, heart wrenching cycle that you knew you needed to put an end to, now.

“Please, Theo…stop…” you said, your voice a trembling plea in the air; and as if on command, he did.

You shook your head, collecting yourself, taking a few steps back to keep the distance between your bodies--watching Theo’s expressions as his hardened facade slowly cracked, his eyebrows pinching and his throat bobbing as he swallowed, dark eyes scanning your features; flicking from your eyes to your lips and back up to meet your eyes.

“You’ve given me something I can’t live without, something I don’t think I’ll ever find in anyone else…but I can’t keep playing this little game with you, I can’t keep going on like everything is fine when it’s not…I love having you in my life but it hurts too much…I want to live, not just survive...” you whispered, voice dropping with every single word. “You have no intentions of being with me, after all this time, and I can’t keep doing it…I can’t keep acting like it doesn’t affect me.”

Theo’s jaw tensed, so tight it looked like it hurt, and he swallowed again. “That’s-“

You cut him off. “The truth.”

Your words hung heavy in the air, blanketing over the room, thick and sticky like cobwebs in a cave--clogging the channels of communication between your bodies. Theo’s eye twitched, a nearly impenetrable movement, but one you knew you’d never, ever miss--you’d simply stared into those dark eyes way too many times to not notice even the subtlest of changes.

“But is it, though?” Theo said, voice low and cautious, not daring to move even an inch closer as he stared at you. “Is it really the truth, or are you just letting this little misunderstanding fuel your emotions...you know I’ve only been with you…”

Your body vibrated. Anger creeping in. “Don’t you dare patronize me right now.”

He lifted his hands in surrender, large palms facing you as he raised them up against his shoulders.

“I’m not.” He said, gently. “Just think on it, for a second, Bella…please…you’re the only one…”

Please. He’d just fucking said please. You weren’t sure if you’d even heard him correctly.

“Don’t try to change my mind, Theo…” you whispered, voice unsteady and fingers trembling at your sides as you watched his expressions falter even further, his original confidence now entirely dissipating from his face. “There’s so much space between us, we were doomed for failure before we even began…and it’s entirely your fucking fault.”

His eyes narrowed, his eye twitching with increased intensity. “How the fuck is it my fault that you got attached?”

The room seemingly paused at his words, even his own expressions hardened as his brain registered what he’d just fucking said; but you, you hardly even flinched. Admittedly, you were just happy you’d finally got a sliver of his true thoughts, and not just the sweet, charming words he knew you’d want to hear.

“Are you really going to fucking stand there and blame me?” You hissed, unable to control your emotions as the energy and tension between your bodies continued to build. “After everything you’ve done?”

His face fell into a scowl. “You knew how I was before we started this-“

“Yes, I did, but stupid me for hoping that maybe one day you’d fucking change…” your voice cracked, your heart slamming your sternum. “I can’t keep loving you in the dark and then acting like a stranger in the light. Maybe you don’t see it but you’re fucking destroying me...sometimes I wish I’d never fucking met you…”

Everything paused. His breathing, his movement, his blinking. Fury crawled its way into his dark irises, shading them the colour of crimson; his fingers curling in against his palms, the tendons in his hands tightening like a noose prepared specifically for your neck. As fear gripped you, you swallowed.

His eyes narrowed. “You fucking what?”

Your lungs stalled, oxygen missing you. “I-“

Your words were cut short as Theo advanced on you, backing you up against the wall, two strong hands slamming against the wood next to your head, your heart racing so hard in your chest you were certain it would crack your sternum and threaten the integrity of your ribcage as Theo brought his face so dangerously close to yours you had to turn your head slightly to stop your lips from touching.

His breath was fire against your flesh, his exhales leaving his mouth in a low growl, brows furrowed in frustration.

“Do you want to say that again?”

You flinched, his body so close to yours you could taste the anger radiating off of him. “I didn’t-“

“No, you didn’t.” He hissed, shoulders crowding as he pressed against you. “Look at me.”

When you hesitated, one large hand slipped from the wood beside your head and latched on to your jaw, pinching your cheeks together as he directed your eyes to meet his--his once stoic and emotionless gaze now set ablaze with fury, singlehandedly searing through your soul with one single glance.

“Do you love me?”

Your heart leapt into your throat at the question, your nails digging into the wall behind you as you melted into it, your body slowly surrendering to his intoxicating touch, his fingers gripping your jaw with just enough force to illicit a burning desire between your thighs. You didn’t really need to process your response, knowing that lying to him right now would serve you absolutely no purpose.

Your voice was a mere breath as it left your lips. “Yes.”

“You love me.” It was more of a statement, not necessarily a question, and your entire body shuddered, the intensity of his eyes melting you from the inside out. “You fucking love me.”

You couldn’t find merely a single breath of air. “I-I do-“

His eyes flicked over your lips. “And if I told you I love you?”

The room spun, everything fading to black around you. “Y-you don’t-“

“I do.” He hissed, tugging you closer. “I do and I have for way too fucking long and it’s made me a coward--it’s made me so fucking scared to lose you that I push you away, I-I pretend like I don’t need you but I do. I fucking need you, principessa…”

Earth turned beneath your feet, yet everything in the room remained still. As though time had frozen in place. “Theo-“

“I fucking love you.”

He murmured; nothing but raw, untethered passion behind his words; freezing every single red millimetre of your bloodstream and turning it into nothing more than a cold blue system of ice.

Your chest swelled, fighting every urge in your body that wanted to kiss him. You almost couldn’t fucking believe your ears. “Say it again…”

“I love you.” He retorted almost instantly, meeting your eyes. “I’ve loved you since I watched you goto the Yule Ball with Malfoy and kiss him under the mistletoe in that beautiful emerald dress. I’ve loved you since the first time we kissed, the first time we hooked up in Astronomy Tower--hell, I’ve loved you since the fucking first year when you stole my seat in Potions and then stuck your tongue out at me just to spite me. I’ve loved you for so fucking long that I don’t remember what it feels like not to love you; and it terrifies me. Loving you is the scariest thing I’ve ever done.”

You couldn’t find words, couldn’t find breath, could only mutter the one fucking word that you knew you’d never forget, the one word that would never leave your mind even if you had stormed out of this dorm and never looked back.

“Theo…”

His jaw tensed, his nose practically brushing against yours as he stared down into your eyes; gaze so intense it diminished all of the oxygen within your lungs. “But yet you wish you’d never met me, huh?”

You stammered. “No, I-“

“Look into my fucking eyes and tell me that you meant it. Tell me that I mean fucking nothing to you, that all of this has been nothing.” He tugged you closer by the hold on your jaw, your collective exhales mingling as one, your lips so close they were practically brushing. “Go on, fucking tell me.”

You yelped as he tightened his grip. “I-I can’t, Theo…”

He leaned closer, seemingly holding his breath, his soft lips grazing over yours once, twice, three times before he pressed the full plush entirety of his mouth to yours--his lips working to devour, to kiss you as though he’d never kiss you again. His tongue was rough, insistent, slipping past your teeth without effort as he worked to devour you, tightening his grip on your jaw as his free hand gripped your hip with enough force to inflict a bruise. You mewled against him, melting into the kiss, fighting to pull away and catch your breath but he was relentless, breathing you in like he could inhale you; map the entirety of your taste into memory.

When he finally broke the kiss, panting mouth falling to your jawline, you gasped; sucking in lungfuls of air.

“I’m so fucking sorry, Tesoro mio…I’m so sorry for ever making you feel like you aren’t enough for me. You are enough, fuck you’re too much; I don’t fucking deserve you.”

As he wrapped his arms around your body, pulling you tight to his frame, you melted, feeling yourself become one with his strength, his warmth, his adoration.

“Theo…I-I don’t…”

He thrust a hand through your hair, pulling your head against his chest, his chin resting gently on the top of it. “I’m going to make it up to you…everything I’ve done, I’ll remedy it, I promise I will…Bella Mia…”

You exhaled, sinking against his firm hold. “I love you, Theo…”

“And I love you, Bella..”

[princehendir]

Society when indie creators figure out why the director the animators the script writers and script editors are all different people in different departments for big budget productions

The first analogue horror creator who actually understands how real human beings talk to each other will be heralded as a god among men.

[tallulah477]

The Rumor Mill (Part Two)

Pairing: Spider x Fem!Na'vi!Reader

Warnings: AgedUp!Spider, Oral (female receiving), Blindfolding, Handjob, Finger Sucking, Queue/Kuru Play, P in V, Voice Kink (kinda), Multiple Orgasms, Dirty Talk, Slight Food Play, Creampie, Reader has anxiety and is going through it, Her entire body is made of stress I s2g

Word Count: 12.4K

A/N: Happy New Year! Starting the year off with some Spider! I threw a semicolon in here somewhere just to spice things up a bit ;)

Summary: You thought your little crush on Spider would get easier after he ate you out within an inch of your life. Instead, it gets worse. And now you can't even look at him without picturing him looking up at you from between your thighs.

<<< Part One

Translations:

Tewng - Loincloth

Skxawng - Idiot, moron

Teylu - Beetle larvae

Tawtute - Human

Vrrtep - Demon

Mawey - Calm

Yawne - Beloved

You thought that getting eaten out and having an orgasm so intense you thought you might explode from pleasure would make you more comfortable around the person that did it. It’s intimate - getting up close like that and sharing something so personal with someone else. It should erase the nerves, right? Make you more at ease and relaxed around the person who’s seen you at your most vulnerable. 

Spider made you fall apart on his tongue in just a few minutes. It was amazing. Heartstopping. A down right hazard to your ability to breathe. 

But instead of crawling off that bed in your satisfied and pleasured haze and waving at him in thanks, maybe even scheduling another meeting so you could relive the life-changing experience - you just laid there, legs still twitching as you panted into your mask for air that you felt like wasn’t ever enough to please your lungs.

“So what do you think? Are the rumors true?”

Your cunt couldn’t stop spasming, the aftershocks of your orgasm seeming to extend on forever, and you know that humans don’t have anything special that should make you feel this way. No natural aphrodisiacs that the Na’vi do. But you think that Spider has to have something that he’s hiding, some kind of trick or superpower or something because you never knew that you could orgasm like that. So fulfilling and explosive and, oh Eywa, you squirted on his face! 

He asked you that question, face as smug as smug could get. And even though you never got the words out for yourself, you know he knew your answer. His eyes never left your face. 

But your eyes left his, dragging down his body, observant and catching where the blue painted stripes on his body had just barely smudged across his tanned skin from where his chest and belly had rubbed against the sheets during his time between your legs. They hesitate for just a moment over the healed skin of his bullet scar, covered partially with one purposeful stripe. Your eyes traveled down to the bulge in his tewng and your scattered brain latches on to the thought of him reaching inside it. Your pussy flutters, clit throbbing in need again as the image of him stroking himself beneath the cloth of his tewng invades your mind. Would he keep it hidden from you? Another form of teasing as he looks down at you with those sinful eyes as he pumps at his length that may or may not have blue stripes on it to match the rest of his body. Or would he pull it out and let you watch? Let you see as he chases the pleasure both you and him know he deserves after the gift he just graced you with. Would those possibly existing stripes smear along his cock the same way the ones on his chest and stomach did? 

You whimper at the thought and the involuntary sound snaps you back to reality. Spider’s still there in front of you, sat back on his heels and the remnants of your arousal still glistening in the florescent light of the room on his face where he missed wiping it off. The bulge still ever present under his tewng.

Spider’s teasing stare twists into concern. “Y/n? Are you okay?”

“I have to go,” You say suddenly, scrambling off the bed. 

Your legs feel like jelly and you worry you’re about to collapse at any moment, but then you turn around and grab your forgotten tewng from the sheets and your eyes catch on Spider’s concerned brown ones again and fuck! You can’t look at him! You can’t look at him anymore. How are you expected to ever look at him again when all you’re going to be able to see when you do is how ravenous he looked between your thighs or what you think he might look like with a hand on his cock. 

“Wait,” He says, moving to get up too. “What’s wr–”

He’s a sweetheart. A true, kind, pussy eating god of a sweetheart, and you’re a fucking coward because what are you even doing right now? 

Running. Grabbing your tewng and running. 

That’s what you’re doing right now. 

The walk of shame through the woods and back to the village feels like it takes forever. Nightfall caresses the entire forest in a thick blanket of darkness, lit up only by the bioluminescent plants and networks of living moss on the ground. You watch the beauty around you as you trek your way back and try to ignore the way your pussy still twitches occasionally in its overstimulated and overworked state.

You take a deep breath and urge yourself to calm down. 

It was just a thing. A thing. Get yourself together. He didn’t even fuck you. And even if he did, it still wouldn’t be a big deal. Sex is normal between the Na’vi - an expression and physical release. It’s not a taboo like it can be for the human’s and you have no reason to feel anything other than pure satisfaction of a job well done. This should be a walk of pride. A walk of contentment. 

So why do you feel so flustered? 

The image of him sitting back on his heels, the thick bulge trying to poke up and begging for attention under the thin piece of cloth around his hips pops into your mind again. That was for you. He was hard because of you. You could have helped him. Returned the favor with your own mouth. You could be learning how he tastes right now, how the weight of his cock feels against your tongue. 

But you didn’t. You left him there. Alone and confused and hard. 

You curse softly, voice barely audible in the expanse of the forest. Eywa, y/n, you are so stupid. 

Renu is never going to let you live this down.

Renu doesn’t let you live it down. 

She bombards you the second you’re back in your hut. You knew it was going to happen - Renu is nothing if not driven. But you still hoped you would have some time before she cornered you, crafty grin on her face and the demand to “spill all the details! C’mon, nothing left out!” on her tongue. 

It’s almost as hard to look at her as it is to look at Spider. 

“You skxawng!” She bellows, disbelief coloring her tone and you think you’ve never seen her eyes this wide before. “You just left him? He gave you the best head of your life and you just left him?”

“Ran,” You corrected, weakly. 

“Oh, that’s right. You ran. You ran from the man you’ve been ogling over since he came back to the clan. And then, not only that, but you ran before you got that dick? Are you crazy?”

“You never said anything about getting dick,” 

“I am so mad at you right now,” Renu says. She crosses her arms across her chest and frowns at the corner of your hut. She lasts about eight seconds before she peeks back at you again. “So what did his tongue feel like?”

You whine and bury your face into your hands. 

Maybe you’re being a little dramatic. 

Five days after your rendezvous with Spider shows just how much courage you don't have. He’s in the village all the time, spending time with the Sullys or helping train the younger warriors alongside Neteyam - and if you thought you saw him everywhere before, it's even worse now that you’re trying to not see him. 

You know he’s trying to seek you out. He’s tried to corner you on several occasions, especially in the first two days after you ran from the outpost, but you dodged his attempts to talk to you every time. You’d like to say your successful attempts at evading him have to do with your prowess as a Na’vi - the art of quick footing, careful movements, and pure athleticism despite not being an active Hunter or Warrior working in your favor - but you know you’d only be lying to yourself. Spider is even more athletic than you are and you think he could cut you off no matter where you try to go, force you to talk to him if he really wanted to.

He’s letting you get away - his own kind soul seeing your distress and even though you know he wants to get to the bottom of why you’re acting the way you’re acting, he doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable. 

“Well, you know what they say,” Renu said when you hide in her hut after one such escape. “Big heart, big di–”

“Shut up!”

She doesn’t get it. She doesn’t understand why you clam up whenever he’s nearby, face catching fire whenever the sound of his name pops up in conversation or is called from across the training grounds as you're walking by. She doesn’t understand why you turn into a flustered disaster at the mere sight of him and fuck - if Renu thought you were bad before your little experience with Spider, she makes sure to tell you how embarrassing you are now. 

And it is embarrassing. 

You are significantly taller than he is and naturally stronger. You should not be cowering and hiding like you are, especially just from a little sexual tryst. Yet, the last words you said to him were a garbled slew of unintelligent syllables as you scrambled for your tewng, desperate to be out of the room that contained his scent like a relentless source meant to keep you dizzy and cloud your senses. And you can’t look at him, neverending images reeling in your mind with each glance, but you can’t stop looking at him either, eyes flicking across the village or hiding behind your fellow People to catch a glimpse of the man who is causing you such torment. 

Sometimes you wonder if humans really do have better senses than the Na’vi give them credit for. But then again, maybe it’s just Spider who is special. Either way, you don’t like it, because Spider seems to know when he’s being watched and a lot of times when you try to steal those self imposed taboo glances, you find him already staring back at you. 

And then you really can’t look at him, eyes unable to meet his piercing stare for longer than half a second before snapping your head away and sprinting back to your hut in shame. 

It takes Renu losing what little patience she had left with you to convince you to put an end to the madness. Five days seems to be your maximum for stalling the inevitable and you find yourself walking back towards the human outpost after you’ve completed your tasks for the day, escorted by none other than your traitorous best friend. 

You drag your feet a little slower when the building comes into view. 

Renu keeps a close and watchful eye on you all the way up until you close the airlock door behind you, and even then you know she’s going to stay out there for a little bit longer just to make sure you don’t chicken out and run for the hills instead of facing your fears head on. 

“Just do it,” she had told you. “Face your fears and just talk to him. Warriors have no fear.”

“I'm a Gatherer,” You reminded her. But she waved off your fact like it's a pesky insect. 

“None of that! You can do it. Plus, maybe he’ll even lay you down and lick your pussy again for being such a brave girl,”

Thankfully, no one is really in the lab when you walk in. There’s a female scientist looking at some data on one of the holographic screens, but you’re not sure of her name and she really doesn’t pay you much attention anyway. She glances up as you push the thick airlock door shut behind you and offers you a polite nod when you wave at her in greeting, but that’s as far as the interaction goes. 

You grab a Co2 mask from the side shelf and slowly creep through the lab and into the residential area. Everything inside you is telling you to turn around, nerves shaking through your entire body and come on, get it together, Y/n, you’re better than this.

No you’re not. This is why you’ve never had a partner before this. You’re practically more anxiety than Na’vi at this point and fuck - would Renu still be outside to catch you if you turn around a try to bail now?

(Yes, she would be.)

Spider’s bedroom is the third room on the left and you carefully open the door, peeking inside briefly even though you can already tell that he isn’t inside, and duck under the doorframe. You close the door behind you, twisting the knob with you as you press it shut so the lock doesn’t make the loud clicking sound it always makes when the latch catches. It’s stupid, but a part of you feels like the quieter you are, the less likely you are to somehow magically alert Spider to your presence in his room before he’s already in the process of coming in himself. It’s not like he’s got the heightened senses of a Na’vi to rely on. You could leave right now and he wouldn’t even be able to tell that you were here with his unevolved human nose. You, on the other hand… with how on edge you are right now, you know the purposeful sound of the lock latching back in place would sound like a gunshot to your ears. Better to just do it gently. 

You step across the room, overtaking the space in only a few steps, and sit on the very edge of his bed. You’re more crouching over it than actually sitting on it, but your ass still presses against the soft sheets of his unmade bed and the feel of it brings back the memories of that night. 

The sensation of the sheets against your skin and how they moved with you, caressed your heated flesh while you writhed across them, trying to survive the overwhelming experience their owner’s mouth was putting you through. The room smells just like him - a strange combination of musk and dirt and all things that you would associate with the Na’vi, but with the distinct foreign smell of human to go with it. 

Stop! Your hands fist the fabric of your tewng. Stop breathing. If you keep up your current line of thinking, then you're definitely going to book it out of here before you get a chance to come clean to the tawtute haunting your dreams. Renu wouldn’t have any hopes of catching you with how fast you’ll run. 

But you don’t want to run anymore. The constant hiding and worrying and embarrassment is exhausting and you want things to go back to the way it was before the vrrtep born of the people from another star made your brain explode with a simple flick of his tongue. 

So instead you try to distract yourself. Spider’s room is as bare as you think it could be. You didn’t get a proper look at it the first time you were in here as distracted as you were with the absolute everything about him, but taking it in now - you can tell just how much of him is in here based on how little there actually is. 

Spider is as much of a Na’vi as he can be and you know that if he could live outside permanently, becoming one with nature and the animals and sleeping in a hut in the village that he built himself without need of an oxygen mask or worry that one day it might malfunction or break in his sleep, he would. So his room expresses that. The furniture is kept to a minimum - just a bed, a side table, and dresser - but you would bet anything you have that there’s nothing actually stored in the dresser itself. But there’s some scraps of cloth on top of it, clearly being stitched together as in progress clothing. You’ve seen Spider in interestingly printed tewngs from time to time, when his favorite ones have too much wear and tear and need to be repaired. The most eye-catching was a black dyed fabric with a red face and white eyes printed on the front. You’re not sure what it was - a person no doubt, but it didn’t look human despite the face being human shaped. 

You remember the last time he wore it you stared at it for so long trying to figure out what it was you were looking at that you didn’t realize how intensely you were staring at his crotch. When Renu nudged you and dragged you out of your way too focused contemplation, Spider was already looking back at you, smirk pulling at his lips as he stared you down from across the fire. Your eyes never left your food for the entire rest of last meal. 

There’s a bowl of fruit on the side table, a combination of yovo fruit and spartan fruit that fills the entire bowl until it looks like it might overflow. You have something similar in your own hut for late night snacks. 

You try to focus on the smell of the fruit instead, trying to sniff the sweetness and tang through the overwhelming scent of Spider. But your nose twitches, unconsciously trying to capture more of the alluring scent you were trying to distract yourself from and the ache that builds between your thighs in response feels almost damning. 

The scent distracts you enough to let him sneak up on you. You should have heard him coming. You should have been able to hear him walking down the hall. He’s lived with the Na’vi his entire life, lived among them and has been a part of them as much as he possibly could be, so his footsteps are lighter and more purposeful than a regular human’s. But you should have still been able to hear him coming or smelled that his scent was getting stronger than it already was in the residuals of his room. 

But you didn’t and now he’s here. And you are too. In his room. With him. Alone. Again. 

The door opens and you see a flash of tanned skin and the swing of a blonde dreadlock and you feel like the teylu from your lunch is going to make a reappearance all over Spider’s floor. What are you doing here, you ask yourself in a panic, any bravery you had just a few minutes ago has officially run out. He hasn’t seen you yet, hasn’t realized that you're here. Maybe you can jump out the window really quick. It doesn’t actually open since the carbon dioxide rich air would make breathing for the human’s impossible, but you could probably break it open and just telepathically apologize to Spider and the rest of the people at the outpost for the broken glass. Spider could make it back to the front of the lab and grab an oxygen mask before he passes out from lack of breathable air, right?

You could do it. It’s not too late.

It’s not—

“Y/n,” Spider says, surprise coloring his tone. “What are you doing here?”

Your eyes automatically dart up to meet his startled one, but you’re only able to keep his gaze for a second before you physically can’t anymore - images of flushed skin and swollen lips and dark sultry eyes looking up at you from beneath thick lashes flash before your eyes on repeat at just the sight of them now. 

“I– um,” You start and your voice comes out way too raspy to be normal. Embarrassed, you clear your throat. “I came to… um…”

The breath gets caught in your throat when Spider crosses the room quickly, crouching slightly in front of you and reaching out to carefully grab your chin in his hand and twist your face towards his.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” He asks. “You look like you’re going to be sick.”

Yeah, feels like it too.

You feel like your heart is going to pound right out of your chest, and even though he’s clearly trying to get you to meet his gaze, his head even ducking down further to try to catch your downcast eyes, you avert them at all costs. Suddenly, his ceiling seems much more interesting. 

The hand not holding your chin moves to lay over your own hands that are twisting nervously in your lap. 

“I’ve been trying to talk to you,” He says. “You ran out of here so fast that day and I wanted to make sure you were okay. You’ve been really uh… busy lately though.” 

The lump in your throat prevents the “yeah” from vocalizing past the movement of your mouth, so you forcefully clear your throat - the sound much louder than you would ever hope it would be. 

“Yeah,” You try again, and this time it comes out normally. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just– just busy.”

You can feel Spider’s eyes on you, intense and unrelenting despite their naturally warm color, and you feel like his stare is burning a hole in the side of your face. Out of the corner of your eye you see him look towards the still open bedroom door, one of his dreads slipping over his shoulder, before he sighs. The sound pierces your ears and then those eyes are back on you. 

“You can–uh,” He starts. One of his hands stays on top of yours in your lap while the other moves to squeeze encouragingly at your thigh. Goosebumps burst out on your skin at his warm touch. “You can tell me if I was bad. Or if you didn’t like it. Some people are probably just gonna prefer the Na’vi tongue to a human’s. More texture, you know?”

“No!” You blurt, and your eyes automatically meet his for a fraction of a second before they dart away again - images of those eyes glaring up at you with such heat from between your thighs erasing every other thought you’ve ever had. 

“No?” Spider repeats. “Cause if it is you can tell me. I won’t be mad.”

Fuck, you think as you find the ceiling again. You might have even said it outloud, you’re not even sure anymore. How could he ever think that he could be bad? He has to know he’s not, he has to know. How could he not? With all his happy visitors and glowing reviews and the way he can speak the Na’vi language as perfectly as he can when other humans struggle and still trip over some words despite being fluent - you knew the rumors were true. With a tongue that talented, it was only a wonder what he could do with it in the bedroom. 

And the way he made you cum? Eywa, he would have to be blind and have his brain taken out to think that he wasn’t good.

“No,” You repeat, voice soft. “No, it’s… not that.”

“Then what?” He asks, a hint of frustration seeping out in his tone. “Y/n, you can talk to me. What’s up?”

You’re silent for a long while because what are you even supposed to say? What’s up is that you ate me out so good and now just the sight of your face makes me feel like I can cum again without you even touching me? Yeah, that’s going to go over well. 

“You can’t even look at me,” He says, and you know if you could bear to peek at him right now that the hair on his brows would be furrowed. “Did I do something to upset you? Something after?”

“No! Eywa, I just–” Your words cut off again, frustration bubbling in your voice just as much as it is in his. “I can’t— I can’t look at you,”

“Yeah, I’ve noticed,” Spider grumbles, and you immediately feel even more embarrassed for making him upset. “Tell me why.”

It’s not a question this time. It’s a demand.

You hesitate for too long, and suddenly Spider stands from his crouching position, his hand gripping your chin again - but this time it's more firm and forceful, determined to get you to look at him. It works. Golden eyes meet smoldering brown and you find yourself at a loss of breath, air catching in your lungs just like that night five days ago. 

He’s almost eye level with you as he stands at his full height, the fact that you’re still sitting on the bed makes you lower than normal. You’re still taller than him like this. Just by a few inches. But the controlling way he holds your chin, piercing eyes locking onto yours and keeping them hostage in their depths, makes you feel like he’s towering over you. 

“You’re here,” He continues. “You obviously came here to talk. So talk. Talk to me.” 

You can’t look away anymore. He’s so close, body completely filling your vision with how close he is to you and your breath leaves your body completely as he pins you with his stare.  

“Tell me why,”

You can’t stand it - images of those devious eyes, dark and sinful but somehow also so sacred, keep popping up and tainting your mind. You close your eyes against his gaze. 

“Y/n—” He sighs, but you’re finally able to find your voice.

He’s right. You came here to be honest with him and get it all out on the table. 

“I can’t look at you,” You whisper. “Because when I do, all I see is you… between my legs.”

Spider’s hand loosens its hold on your chin and you wonder if you opened your eyes right now if you would see shock painted on his face. You don’t and force yourself to keep talking just to fill the silence.

“I s-see you looking up at m-me,” You stutter and surely you must be more anxiety than body. “W-with your tongue i-inside me. Felt so good, and it makes me n-nervous to be around you.”

“And why are you nervous?” He asks, and the smile you hear in his voice makes you open your eyes despite yourself. 

He’s so beautiful. Plump lips spread out into a cocky grin that makes your insides clench. 

“You don’t have to be nervous,” He continues, and he’s so close now that you can see the small flecks of lighter brown against the darker contrast of the rest of his iris. You close your eyes again, face heating up at his laughter. “It’s just me. C’mon, open your eyes for me.”

You shake your head and keep your eyes firmly shut. “I can’t,”

“Okay,” Spider says. He lets go of your chin and steps away from you. 

You chance a glance at him and sure enough his back is turned as he walks back across the room. He nudges the door shut, the latch clicking in place and echoing through the room as he detours to his dresser. He picks up one of the spare fabrics in the pile, a deep purple scrap with what looks like gold accents that you’re immediately sure he sewed in himself and clicks his tongue at you when he catches your gaze. 

“No peeking,” He chides as you squeeze your eyes shut again. His footsteps move closer again and you feel your breathing stop when you feel the soft fabric drape over your closed lids. “You say you can’t look at me. So don’t.”

He knots the ends of the cloth behind your head and then suddenly, you couldn’t see anything but darkness even if you wanted to. 

“You don’t have to look at me,” He says, voice so low it's almost a whisper. “Just experience me.”

The squeak you let out at his words should be forgiven given the circumstance. 

Oh Great Mother, have mercy. 

The blindfold heightens your senses in a way that just closing your eyes doesn’t. Your ears perk up to catch every sound, soaking in the barely noticeable shift in his breathing as it hints towards excitement. Or maybe it could be panic - but the confident tap of his feet against the tiled floor as he walks around you tells you it’s not panic. 

His footsteps are so much lighter than a human’s, skilled in stealth and practiced movements that might even let him sneak up on a fellow Na’vi if they’re distracted. But in the dead silence of the room, your heightened senses pick up on them easily. Your tail curls around your body as you subconsciously try to make yourself smaller, and you hold it in your hands on your lap for comfort. 

The bed dips as he kneels behind you and even though you know he’s there, can both hear and feel him clearly, you’re still caught off guard when he drops his mouth to your ear. 

“You know I missed you a lot,” His lips brush against the curve. Your ear twitches at the touch and flattens against your head. He follows it anyway, warm breath fanning over the sensitive skin as his hands curl around your upper arms to keep you still. “Tried to talk to you but you ran from me.”

His voice sounds like silk in your ear, smooth and low and beautiful, and you wring your tail nervously in your lap as he nips at the pierced curve of your ear. 

“You ran from me, Y/n,” He says again, and you gasp when he tugs your tail from your wringing hands, jerking it once just so it pulls at where it’s connected to your body. “Like a bad girl.”

The small bolt pain that shoots through you at the tug makes your pussy flutter and you sink your hands in your tewng again just to hold onto something. 

“I’m s-sorry,” You croak. 

Your mouth drops open as he strokes your tail, goosebumps exploding on your skin as his hand trails from close to the base of it all the way up to the tapered, hair tufted tip. His mouth presses against the side of your neck, humming against the skin as he wraps and twists your tail around his hand. The feel of his calloused palm and strong fingers sliding over the delicate length of your tail making your entire body feel like a live wire. 

“But you’re so pretty,” He tells you. “And goofy. So perfect the last time I had you laid out here. I guess I’m just gonna have to forgive you.”

Another rough tug on your tail just to make you jump and then he’s moving away again, the bed lifting slightly without his added weight, and you're left with your ears straining in anticipation to hear where he’s going to move to next. 

He doesn’t talk for a moment, just walks around to the front of the bed again before his footsteps veer off to your left. The silence nearly kills you. He needs to talk - you need him to talk to you. It’s only been a few seconds but in those seconds it feels like you’ve lived an eternity without his voice. You need him talking to you. Need his voice to keep you grounded because when he’s not talking, you think you might jump out of your own skin. 

“I was so sad,” He says. “When I thought you were upset with me because of something I did.” There’s the sound of something hefty yet pliable shift and settle as Spider moves something near the side table. “I couldn’t sleep. Couldn’t eat.”

He’s back in front of you now and your hands pull at your tewng so tightly you think it might rip when he knocks your knees apart so he can stand between them.

“I was so hungry,” He breathes. “You make me so hungry, Y/n.”

You can’t help but whimper, tail swishing behind you erratically. 

Your ears twitch as they pick up the crisp rip of his blunt teeth piercing what sounds like the skin of a fruit and then the smell of sugared syrup wafts into your nose. He must have picked up a fruit from the bowl on the side table. You can hear the squish of juice gushing from the puncture and the small slurps he makes as he tries to catch it. Rogue drips of juice land on the tops of your legs and he catches your chin in his hand again, cutting off your shocked gasp as he holds your blindfolded face directed towards his, the sticky lines of runaway juice creeping down the insides of your thighs.

“When I first tasted you, I thought you tasted so sweet. So juicy. Like a spartan fruit,” Spider tells you through his mouthful. “They’re my favorite, you know. They’re delicious and I use them to make the dye for my stripes.” 

It’s so quiet in the room and your ears are trying to pick up any and every sound you can. You think if you tried, you could hear someone talking from across the lab right now. It’s not hard to catch the sound of Spider swallowing his bite. 

“It’s the only thing I’ve been able to stomach this past week. They taste just like you,”

Your heart feels like it's going to pound right out of your chest when he presses his lips against yours. It’s not your first kiss with him and you remember how his mouth felt on yours that night almost a week ago. He kissed you gently, just a slow dance of lips pressing against each other again and again. It was his way of calming you - relaxing you from your nerves. He doesn’t want you relaxed this time. The way he kisses you now is still slow but more passionate - all consuming as he slides his tongue against yours. He kisses you like he’s excited to kiss you and wants you excited too. 

Excited and breathless and dripping wet. 

It clouds your brain, the taste of his tongue and the remnants of the fruit flavor left on it. The added sweetness enhancing a taste that’s just purely him. 

He pulls away and you subconsciously lean forward, wordlessly begging for him to kiss you again. Instead of his lips, you feel the skin of the spartan fruit press against your mouth. “Here, taste it. Taste how you taste to me,”

At his instruction, your teeth sink into the fruit's flesh. Juice squirts from your bite and slides down the corners of your mouth. Spider’s hold shifts from your chin to curve around the side of your neck, holding you close as he leans in again and licks up the escaping streams with his tongue. A helpless grunt escapes you as you chew. You’ve eaten this fruit your whole life, you know what it tastes like - but somehow, coming from Spider’s giving hands, it tastes sweeter now, more flavorful and satisfying. And knowing that this is how you taste to him… you’ll never be able to look at it the same way again. 

He kisses your throat lovingly as you swallow before guiding your face towards his again, recapturing your lips and this time tasting the fruit he claims to love so much directly from your own tongue. 

You’re breathless when he pulls away again. Your eyes try to flutter open, nerves momentarily forgotten and you really want to see him right now. His lips would probably be red from your kiss - red and shiny from spit and the juice of the fruit. But the blindfold keeps you from the sight and the darkness that meets your open eyes makes you whine unhappily. 

He shushes you, pulling one of your hands from where it's still fisted in your tewng and holding it in his own. He presses the fruit into your own hand this time and urges you to take another bite. More juice spills out on your face as your teeth tear into the flesh of the fruit, dripping out over your chin and down your fingers and wrist. 

“Look at you making such a mess,” He teases, and you wonder if the double meaning of his words are purposeful. Your face and hand is a mess, yes - but does he know how wet you are? Can he tell just from looking at you how the wetness between your thighs feels like it's unbearable? Surely there’s a stain on his bed right now from where your slick has seeped into the sheets. 

You nearly bite your tongue as you chew your second bite when you feel his tongue licking up your forearm, diligently sweeping up every racing dribble until he’s cleaned everything there is and he’s moved on to cleaning the delicate skin of your wrist. He plucks the fruit from your hand and it splatters as Spider discards it on the floor, the wet smack sounding through the room as it lands on the hard tile. A part of you wants to scold him - wasting perfectly good food is not usually accepted by the Na’vi. All food is provided by the Great Mother, whether it is hunted or gathered, and all should be respected and used to the best of one’s ability. 

But the feel of Spider’s mouth on your first finger has any words you might have tried to get out dying in your throat. You tilt your head down a bit so that if you could see through the blindfold, you would see at the same time as you feel when Spider presses his lips to your fingertip. But the blindfold keeps you in the dark, giving you no hint of a visual through its dark fabric. So you're stuck with just the sensation when his lips part around the tip, lips that feel just as plump and wet and sticky as you imagined. His mouth slides down your finger, soft tongue sliding against the underside of it as his mouth sinks down lower. Your breathing is rough when he pulls off, ears twitching when they catch the small pop his mouth makes when he releases it. That tongue slips between your first finger and your middle finger, licking into the V between them to clean the stickiness before sucking the next finger into his mouth for good measure. 

By the time he reaches your last finger, you’re trying to close your thighs - just trying to find some relief in the relentless tingles bullying you in your tewng. Spider’s hips block your attempt and all it does is make you squeeze him between your legs harder. He doesn’t make any auditory or physical moves to stop you if he minds. 

“You’ve made a mess on me too,” He says, voice more gravelly now. Two of his fingers brush against your bottom lip. “Clean it up.”

Your mouth falls open with a soft groan. Spider’s finger’s slip inside, fruit sticky fingers sliding against your tongue and you listen when he repeats his command - “clean them up, pretty girl,” - lips closing around his fingers as you obediently suck the mess clean. Spider’s strong fingers stroke against the surface of your tongue, dexterous fingertips feeling the texture and slight roughness from it. 

“I’m told that women like my tongue cause it’s extra soft, but I think about the Na’vi tongue a lot.” A short pause and then - “Yours specifically.”

Did you hear that correctly? No, there’s no way. Spider thinks about you? Your tongue? 

But your ears are still working, and they hear him loud and clear when he leans in to whisper in it. 

“Like how it would feel as you suck my cock,” A moan rips from your throat at his words, the sound muffled by the fingers invading your mouth, and for a second, you can try to pretend like it's his cock instead. It would be so nice, to finally feel the thick length you know he’s keeping hidden under his tewng. Humans for all their flawed design don’t keep their parts in a protective sheath like the Na’vi do. When Spider runs or jumps or trains, you can see everything. How it moves under the thin fabric of the tewng and shifts without the security of a sheath or restraint more tawtute clothing tends to provide. 

You haven’t seen any other human cocks, but you have seen Spider’s before - in an accidental stumble near the lake while on a walk with Renu while he, Neteyam, and Lo’ak were washing up after the day’s training. It was right there, hanging heavy between his thighs as he scrubbed at his body, and you remember thinking that proportionally, at least compared to what you believed most other human’s had between their legs, that he is quite blessed by whatever god made him. 

He pulls his fingers from your mouth, a strand of saliva landing wetly on your bottom lip as it snaps from where it was trying to cling to his retreating fingers. You whine at the loss, hands finally leaving the safety of your tewng to hold onto his hips. He kisses you again, lips pressing against yours and tongue slipping inside, but this time it seems like it’s less for tasting and more just for the sake of kissing. He’s kissing you because he wants to kiss you. 

“Wish I could see your pretty eyes,” He mumbles against your lips. “Want to see them all wild, and desperate, and gorgeous for me.”

“Spider,” You breathe, belly tightening when he nips at your lip.

“But no,” He continues. “My gorgeous girl needs to be blindfolded.”

You do. Oh, Eywa, yes you do. Because you wouldn’t be able to handle this right now if you weren’t. You want to see him, want to be brave and take off the blindfold and let your greedy eyes soak in the sight of him that you’re sure if you could see right now would take your breath away. But you’re still too tense, too nervous. You would ruin any suspense and excitement Spider’s worked to build in a heartbeat. You know it and you know that he knows it too. 

But the blindfold makes you wonder, brain working overtime trying to conjure up an image of Spider when your eyes are blocked from seeing the real him. You wish you could look into his beautiful eyes too, see their warmth and intensity and have the visual make your heart twist in the same way they also make you feel safe. You think about your own pupils and how if he were to pull off the blindfold, he’d probably see more black than gold right now and you wonder if his would look the same - the pool of black growing with want as he stares at you knowing you can’t stare back at him as it explodes and overtakes all that rich and warm brown. Would his lips still be red or even more red now? Spitslicked but now sticky free from how you sucked all the fruit juice from them. The skin of his hips is warm under your fingertips and you wonder if maybe his skin is flushed too. 

You don’t know what to do, so you whimper his name again, wordlessly begging for him to guide you.

“Mawey,” He says gently. “Just relax for me, okay? You’re safe here.”

Just relax for me, okay?

Memories of that first night rush back to you in an instant and you remember how he spoke those exact words to you, breathed them over your drenched folds like a promise before he ate you out within an inch of your life. The CO2 mask looped around your neck disappears from your chest as Spider lifts it to your face. 

“And don’t forget to breathe, skxawng,” He chuckles. The extra carbon air helps clear your brain a bit and you instantly feel calmer - you hadn’t even known that you were starting to struggle to breathe. He drops the mask back against your chest and cups your cheek, thumb brushing lightly under the edge of the blindfold. “You can touch me.”

His words are nothing more than a whisper of sound, but you hear them clearly. Your fingers twitch against his sides, feeling the smooth skin beneath your fingertips, and you want to move them - want to feel the smooth hard muscles under your touch - but you can’t force yourself to leave the safety of his hips. 

Spider chuckles like he can see your internal crisis. He probably can - just because you can’t see anything doesn’t mean he can’t. He can see you. Is staring at you, observing you and taking you in. He can see every facial expression you make. Every deep breath, every jaw drop, every lip bite. He can see the flush you know for a fact is on your face, cheeks probably flaring a deep purple under your blue skin. He could see the mess you made on your face when you bit into the fruit and the way your chest is rising and falling with each shaky breath you take. The deep sound of his laugh seems to reverberate through your entire body and you jump when his hands cover your own. 

“Like this,” He says, and then your hands are sliding up his torso and suddenly, that’s all you can focus on. 

He helps you caress his stomach - toned muscle under smooth skin - and you feel when he flexes it underneath your fingers and you can’t help but wonder if it was an intentional flex just to flaunt or if it was an automatic response to your touch. He pulls your hands up, pressing your palms flat against his skin as he drags one directly up the middle of his stomach, one of your fingers dipping into the dip of his belly button while the other hand runs along his ribs. His skin is hot under your touch, miles and miles of pure solid muscle that scream Na’vi all in one devastatingly handsome human body. 

He drags your hands up higher to feel his chest and you wonder if sliding your hands across his chest and stomach are smearing the stripes painted on his body like the bedsheets had. It would be subtle, barely noticeable to a Na’vi if they weren’t paying attention and definitely not noticeable to another human unless they were specifically looking for the smudge. The dye made from the Spartan fruit is made to last. But for Spider, eventually it comes off - wipes away with bathing and the normal physicality of everyday life. You’d give anything to see if you’re messing them up now. 

Your guided palms run across his chest, fingertips grazing over one of his nipples. You’ve gotten used to the neverending canvas smooth skin underneath your hands. You’ve seen his body countless times before since Spider chooses to honor The People by wearing the traditional Na’vi clothing; so you know what his chest looks like. But that doesn’t stop you from trying to blindly map it out in your brain now, each pass of your palms against some newly untouched skin unlocking another area in the layout in your mind. 

And then suddenly, there’s a part of his chest that doesn’t feel so smooth. It’s raised a bit, bumpy and out of place amongst all the rest that you’ve felt so far, and you know without a doubt that you’ve reached his bullet scar. And this is it - the real reason Spider ultimately overcame the natural distrust that the Na’vi have for humans, something that he dealt with the entirety of his young life, and gained not only the trust and respect of The People, but also Neytiri as well. 

You’ve heard the story before: Spider reuniting with his brothers on the demon ship in the middle of the ocean after months of being held hostage only to almost witness one of his brothers being killed. They brought a man back to life, put him in the body of a fake Na’vi, and he had his gun pointed at Neteyam, aimed and ready to kill. When the shot went out, Spider jumped in front and took the bullet - the metal ball embedding itself in the space where his chest meets his shoulder instead of hitting Neteyam in the heart like it was aiming for. 

Spider saved his brother’s life that night, finally proving himself to the one person who always swore she would never forgive him for the sins of his father. But he saved her son, and he gained a mother and official family in return. 

“Love feeling your hands on me,” Spider says, and you’re shocked to hear them come out closer to a groan. “Eywa knows I imagine it way too much when I’m by myself at night.”

“You think about me at night?” You ask, voice barely a whisper, and this time you're not sure if you’re more shocked you were able to say anything at all or that Spider was actually able to hear you. 

“You shouldn’t be surprised,” He says, grin obvious in his tone of voice. “I already confessed that I think about you. Your tongue too, remember?” He drops his hands from yours, leaving you to keep your own hands where they are on his body as he grabs your face again, pulling you in for another quick kiss and murmurs against your lips. “I’m always thinking about you.”

This time when he pulls back, one of his hands sneaks towards the back of your skull. Your fingers curl into his shoulders, nails digging into the hard muscle, but he doesn’t seem to care as his own hand curls around your kuru and pulls it over your shoulder. 

“I’ve always wondered about these things too,” He says. Your eyes fly open behind the blindfold, mouth falling open too in a silent plea for something you’re not even sure of what you’re begging for. He’s just caressing the hair braided around the kuru, carefully fisted hand sliding down the silky strands that protect the most sacred part of you. But you can feel the way his fist compresses your braid, just the barest hint of pressure and your thighs are threatening to try to close on him again as the feeling goes right to your core. “Been jealous, you know? Wondering how it would feel to connect with the world. The Tree of Souls, an ikran. A mate.”

His hand trails down the braid, moving closer and closer towards the bottom and you feel like you want to jump out of your skin when his curious touch reaches the bottom tie. You whimper his name again - in warning or as a beg you’re not sure. But you feel as exposed as you ever thought you could when he flips the bottom of your braid upside down, the loose strands under the tie falling away to reveal the pink and wriggly tendrils that only you have ever been intimately familiar with. 

The tendrils stretch and wiggle in the air as they search for something to bond with, and you wonder if your fingernails are piercing Spider’s skin with how hard you’re digging your nails into his shoulders. Just the barest hint of his fingertip touches the end of a tendril and you gasp at the shock of electricity it sends down your spine. The tendril stretches desperately for his finger as it retreats.

“I always wondered what it would feel like,” 

You don’t even have time to think before his fingers are back. The tendrils act on their own, wrapping themselves around his offered fingers before your brain can even register what is happening. A silent scream rips from your throat as bright sparks explode behind the darkness of the blindfold. Spider plays with the extension of your nervous system, waving his fingers to pull and move the tendrils and it feels like he’s playing with the entirety of you - mind, body, and soul - all at once. 

“Fuck, Spider,” You gasp, thighs instinctively trying to clamp closed again as your clit throbs, but Spider releases his hold on the bottom of your braid to push your thighs apart again, moving his own legs wider between yours to keep you spread. 

“Keep those legs open for me,” He tells you, and then more gently, “Does it hurt?”

Yes. Yes, it hurts. It hurts in a way that feels so good it’s overwhelming. Hurts in the way that you know you shouldn’t be experiencing this but yet somehow you are. Other Na’vi don’t touch each other like this - at least not that you’ve ever heard. They bond with each other, joining their kuru’s together so that they can be with one another on a spiritual level, bonding for life as they join their soul with another person for an eternity together. It’s a loving experience where you feel everything your partner feels - every touch, every emotion, and every memory - shared together in a magic experience granted by The Great Mother herself. 

Spider can’t do that with you. He can’t bond with you for life and connect the kuru he doesn’t have with yours. He shouldn’t be touching you like this. It’s more intimate than sex. It’s invasive, and intense, and fuck fuck fuck the sensations are going straight to your core and you’re going to cum. 

You’re gonna cum. Gonna cum. Gonna–

But then Spider’s fingers are gone, pulled away from your kuru despite your internal protests and the tendrils' clear attempts to keep hold of him. 

“Y/n, I need you to answer me,” Spider says, free hand grabbing your jaw and forcing your blindfolded eyes to meet his. “Did that hurt?”

Your breathing is harsh as you try to force out your words. “N-no. F-feels good.”

“Mm, yeah? Felt good?”

You want to say so much more. Want to say yes, keep going. Don’t stop. Touch it more. Touch me more. Drag your fingers from my kuru and drag them through my slit instead. Press those capable fingers against my clit and make me cum over and over and over again. But you can’t say it, rendered speechless again when you feel Spider lift the end of your kuru up towards his mouth, warm breath fanning over the sensitive tendrils. 

“You know, now that I’ve felt them on my fingers, I can’t help but wonder what they might taste like,”

That’s all the warning you get before he does it, holding your kuru in a firm grip as he drags his tongue across the tendrils. You think you actually scream this time, eyes widening and rolling back into your head behind the blindfold as your core tightens, pussy spasming and gushing as your orgasm soaks your tewng. He keeps his tongue there, the wet muscle slipping through the tendrils as they try to grip onto it and find purchase. Each swipe and graze feels like a never ending climax, wave after wave of pleasure coursing through your body and it doesn’t stop. Doesn’t stop, doesn’t stop - his tongue on your kuru keeps you cumming and cumming and distantly a part of you worries your heart might stop with all the electricity shooting through your veins. 

Spider’s tongue slides away, breaking the connection to your kuru, and you feel like you can breathe again. Sobbing gasps rip from your chest as your body shakes, thighs trembling and pussy still spasming and you can feel the tears falling from the corners of your eyes soaking into the blindfold. It takes you a second to register that your hands have moved from pressing against Spider’s chest to squeezing his biceps, nails digging into the flesh. 

“Did my pretty girl cum?” He rasps, and oh Eywa, his voice is so beautiful. Deep timbre is made even deeper and more seductive as he practically growls at you. “Fuck, I want to see your eyes. They probably look so fucked out already. Glassy and dazed and beautiful just like their owner.”

Your ears twitch as they pick up on his heavy breathing, and then you feel it on your neck as he presses a teasing kiss to your racing pulsepoint. He grins against your throat.

“I still remember how they looked when I ate you out,” And then, almost as if he were quoting you word for word, “They’re what I see every time I close my eyes at night.”

“Please,” You whine. 

“Please what, yawne?”

The Na’vi term of endearment makes your heart skip a beat. “Want to touch you,”

“You are touching me,”

“No,” You do your best to ignore the teasing tone in his voice. “No, I wanna touch you.”

“Hmm, you wanna touch me? Touch me where?” He pulls one of your hands from his arms and drags it down his body, over his chest. “Here?” A little bit lower now, allowing his smooth and toned stomach back under your palms. “Or maybe here?”

“Lower,” You whisper, voice just a bit desperate.

“Lower? Like here?”

He drags your hand lower and for the first time ever your hand runs over the light material of his tewng. The bulge underneath it is evident and Spider drops his hand from yours, letting you take control for the first time tonight. Your hand cradles the hardness, taking a moment to let yourself feel the awe of the situation you’ve somehow found yourself in. It’s too much and then suddenly it's not enough anymore. You don’t want to feel it though a layer of fabric. You want to be greedy, feel skin on skin. You need it. Need more. 

Spider seems to read your mind. “Just tell me what you want,” 

“Off,” You tell him, fingers creeping up to try to slide beneath the waistband. “Please, I want it off.”

“Yes, ma’am,” He teases, and then you feel the obtrusive fabric fall away. 

Carefully, you bring your hand to where you think his cock is, fingers trailing down his lower belly, tracing the V until it leads you to where you want to be. It jumps under your touch the second your fingers graze the heated length and a giggle of nervous excitement bursts from your chest. 

“What are you giggling at?” Spider asks. Maybe in another situation you would have been worried you offended him. Giggling as you’ve just touched his dick is probably not the best thing you could have done. But there’s a smile in his voice as he asks the question, and you think you can picture it in your head now - how he would look there, staring down at you with your hand on him and a small pleased smirk on his face. 

“It jumped when I touched it,” You tell him like he wasn’t also there when it happened, and fuck, you sound so stupid, but you can’t help the small smile that creeps on your lips too. 

“He’s excited,” Spider laughs. “Happy to feel your touch instead of mine for a change.”

“Hm,” You hum, pleased feeling in your gut but unsure of how to respond. So you move forward instead, wrapping your fingers more firmly around Spider’s cock and feeling the hefty weight of it in your palm. 

Definitely larger than the average human, you can tell by the way he fills up a decent portion of your palm. He’s warm and heavy between your fingers and you take a moment to study the difference between human and Na’vi by feel. You don’t have any other experience to go on, but Renu has told you plenty of stories to make up for your lack of personal experience when it comes to sex. She’s told you about the stretch before, how it can be overwhelming to the point of too much for even another Na’vi who is designed to take it. She’s told you how the barbs are both a blessing and a curse and the absolute mind-numbing pleasure that comes from taking a knot. 

Spider’s isn’t like that. It’s smooth under your touch, the only real texture coming from a couple large veins that trail down the underside of his cock. There’s a stickiness at the top when your thumb sweeps over the head, precum coating your fingertips as you drag it back down along his length to wet it. You pump it a few times, listening to Spider’s heavy breathing and the undertone of what sounds like the beginnings of a growl, and even though you just came, you’re already ready to go again. 

It’s not enough - your hand sliding over his hardness feels like so much but also not nearly enough. You want yourself on him, the possessive spark in your brain telling you to claim him in any way that you can. So you reluctantly pull your hand away from his cock, your free hand coming up to curl around the back of his thigh, just below his ass to keep him close. Your other hand snakes into your tewng, underneath the soaked through material, and slides through the wetness there. When you pull your hand back out, it’s coated with your arousal, and you can imagine how it might be shining right now in the fluorescent light of the room as you bring it back to Spider’s cock. 

“Hah fuck,” Spider grunts when you wrap your fingers back around him, and the sound is like music to your ears. 

You lean forward more as you stroke him and blindly aim for his lips, needing to kiss him. The idea of you working his length and using your own wetness as the slick is making you desperate, and you land on his cheek instead just under his eye. You let out a muffled sound of frustration but keep laying pecks on his skin anyway, trailing down his cheek and over his jaw. You’ve just made it to his neck when he grabs your face, directing you back to his mouth and claiming your lips. 

“You’re wiping my stripes off,” He murmurs against your lips.

And fuck. Fuck fuck fuck - that sentence just almost sent you over the edge again.

You’re wiping my stripes off.

Your brain tries to conjure the image of his cock again, using every available piece of knowledge at your disposal. The image from the accidental viewing at the lake, too far to see any detail like apparently painted stripes on his cock but close enough to see its size, manifests in your mind's eye. Only this time, you can picture it closer - feel the weight of it in your hand and know that yes, yes there are stripes painted on it. 

What would it look like now? Are they still there? Would they still be in their places but smeared, or maybe just faded from the wetness and friction of your hand? Or are they gone completely, the only remains just some smudges of blue against the shaft?

“Wanna see,” You plead back against his mouth, but he clicks his tongue at you and pulls your hand from his pulsing cock. 

“Nope. You’re blindfolded, remember?” He lays one last peck on your lips before pressing a hand against your chest. “Now be a good girl and lean back for me, okay?”

The familiar feeling of the sheets against your back sends you back to that night nearly a week ago and without thinking you grab the mask hanging against your chest and press it over your face. Spider’s laugh makes your face heat up even more than it already is, but you’re feeling more comfortable now - drunk off your orgasm and everything about him - so you grin behind the mask despite the fire licking at your cheeks. 

“My good girl learned from last time, I see,” He comments.

The bed dips a little as he leans on it, and then you feel skilled fingers at the ties of your top. The top falls away at just a few movements and falls onto the mattress, revealing your breasts and perked up nipples. You get just a second of warning when you feel the puff of his breath on your breast before his lips press a revenant kiss to the swell of it. Another kiss to your nipple, soft and sweet, before he’s catching it between his blunt teeth and pulling on it gently. 

You hum in appreciation, arching your chest closer to him as he tongues at the spot to soothe the bite. He presses another kiss to the hard peak before switching to your other breast to show it the same attention and you moan when he blows cool air on the spit slicked skin. He moves diligently down your body, pressing his mouth against the skin over your ribs and trailing kisses down your belly as he heads to his final destination. 

He skips it for a moment, tongue running over the tops and insides of your thighs to clean up the forgotten juice drippings from the fruit, and then he’s tugging your tewng from your body, drenched folds on display for his greedy eyes and you know he’s staring - you can feel his eyes on you just as clearly as if you were able to take off your blindfold and see it. Maybe you should do it now. There’s no going back, you’re in too deep now and you don’t think you’d run. But then he wraps his arms under your thighs and spreads you wide, holding you down and right where he wants you, and you don’t have a choice. 

One hand keeps the carbon mask over your mouth and nose while the other tangles in the bedsheets in anticipation. 

“Fuck, you’re so pretty,” He groans. “The most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

You breathe a laughing sigh into the mask. “I’m sure you say that to all the girls,”

“No,”

It’s definitive. Said like a fact, and you don’t have time to mull over what that means before his mouth is on your center and your thoughts come to a screeching halt. 

He licks up everything you have to give, groaning and growling against you like a wild animal as he shakes his face into your cunt. His tongue is so soft as it runs up your slit, exactly like you remembered it feeling and yet this time, somehow, it feels so much better. It slides across your clit like it loves it, laving across the sensitive bundle of nerves like it was designed especially for it -  to run over it, caress it, adore it. This is his skill, he’s mastered his art and now he’s performing every trick he’s learned on your poor, sopping, and responsive pussy. 

You can feel the impending rush of a second orgasm hurtling towards you with every calculated swipe of Spider’s tongue. The vibrations of his groans spur you on, pushing you closer and closer to that familiar blissful edge that you think only he could bring you towards like this. Your hands move on their own accord, abandoning your mask and the sheets as both of them reach down to wind themselves into Spider’s dreadlocks, intent on keeping him there. Right there. Right there! Yes! Yes! Right there!

“Oh, ma Eywa!” You shout, body tensing as your orgasm rips through you. Your thighs shake in Spider’s grip. “Spider! Please,”

Your pussy clenches around nothing, body jolting and writhing against the mattress as he moans in satisfaction as your clit throbs on his tongue. And even though you’ve just cum for the second time today, you can’t help but want more. It’s crazy to think about. You’re so sensitive already, but you want to cum again. 

On his fingers.

On his cock. 

On your own fingers as you take him in your mouth. 

Fuck, you want it so bad. 

“Spider, please,” 

“What, yawne?” He sounds absolutely wrecked. 

You whimper, trying to push yourself up a little, but he holds you down with a strong hand to your chest. “Wanna suck your cock,”

He sounds like he’s been knocked in the gut, the punched out sound he makes catches you off guard and your ears immediately flatten against your head. But he forces you all the way back down until your back hits the mattress and presses his still wet lips against yours in a quick kiss. 

“I want you to,” He says. “Believe me, y/n. I want you to. But I won’t last for you like that. Not right now. I need– I need to fuck you.”

Yes! Yes, you need it too. Need it so badly. Your legs spread for him automatically at his words and he settles perfectly between them. His hard length rests along your belly for a moment, warm and heavy as he presses it against your stomach. And then he’s gliding it down, the blunt head of his cock gliding through your folds, the drag over your swollen clit making you shiver. When the tip nudges at your entrance, you wait with baited breath - waiting for the moment he decides to push in so you can finally know how it feels.

Another woman in the clan who had experienced Spider’s mouth gloated about his skills, but also made sure to say that she thinks those skills end with the oral experience. 

“He isn’t big enough, right? Sure his mouth is pure perfection, but he’s not as big as an actual Na’vi. He doesn’t have the right sized part to fully satisfy that way, you know?”

You always knew she must have been wrong. Your gut told you she was. Even if Spider wasn’t as big as Na’vi males proportionally, that didn’t mean he couldn’t satisfy with what he has. And with how it felt in your hand and against your belly - you’d guess it’s plenty enough. It feels big as he presses it against your entrance, the pressure making you tense in excitement as he pushes just a little bit inside. The stretch is still enough to make you gasp, the sensitivity of already having multiple orgasms making everything even more sensitive as he works it in more. Each inch is glorious, the stretch around his girth as he pushes into you is enough to make your legs shake more in pleasure than intensity, and you moan as he bottoms out inside you, your tail flicking against the bed beside you happily. 

“You okay?”

You smile at his question. Every part of you wants to say yes. Of course you’re okay. This is perfect. Beyond perfect. 

You settle for a soft, “Yeah,” and then your grin is interrupted by his first thrust. 

You feel when his hand comes to steady himself next to your head, his other hand hitching your thigh up higher so it hooks over his hip, pushing him in just a little deeper than before. And even though you’re not filled to capacity, so overwhelmed on someone’s cock as they hit your cervix like some other woman made you feel like you needed to be, it’s still soooo good. Spider’s cock hits what it needs to hit, dragging against the most important parts inside you that make you squeal and your toes curl in pleasure. Sometimes he torments you, fucking you with perfectly timed thrusts, pushing you back towards that precipice of bliss only to pull out again, leaving you with a heaving chest and a desperately clenching pussy in the wake of his absence. And when he pushes in again, it's like the first time all over again - and you’re arching against the bed, pushing yourself down on him just to get him sheathed back inside you again where he belongs. 

You want to see him, want to see the way his eyes look as he fucks you. Want to see his lips, probably still glistening with spit and the remnants of your arousal, part with each grunt and groan and moan as he fucks into you - chasing his own high just as much as he pushes you towards your own. 

Without giving yourself a chance to back out, you pull the blindfold from your head and there’s just pure brightness. 

The overhead light of the room sits brightly behind Spider’s body, enveloping him in a bright halo as he blocks most of the harsh light with his head. Everything is blurry for a moment as your eyes adjust to the brightness after having spent so long in the dark, but it only takes a second for your feline eyes to adjust to the new light.

And what you see is beautiful. 

Spider is there above you, sweaty and panting as he thrusts inside you, eyes dark and glazed over in pleasure with a red mouth, visible teeth marks embedded into his bottom lip like he bit it to keep himself from making so much noise. Those lips pull into a devastating smile when he sees you’ve pulled off the blindfold, but his thrusts don’t stop. 

“There they are,” He says. “There’s those gorgeous eyes I’ve been dying to see. Hi,”

“Hi,” You breathe.

You can feel that coil in your belly tightening, each thrust forcing it tighter and tighter until it's threatening to snap in a second. Spider’s hand reaches between your legs and plays with your overstimulated clit, dragging the wetness around the swollen nub as he thrusts against you harder. 

Your eyes threaten to slip shut against the pleasure, but Spider snaps his hips against yours roughly making them snap open again. 

“Don’t close them,” He tells you, rubbing your clit faster. “Wanna see them. Keep looking at me. Look right at me,”

When the coil snaps and you cum, it's looking directly in his eyes. 

Golden eyes lock onto simmering brown and your pussy clenches around his cock, trying desperately to milk him for all he’s worth as you cum around him. You cry out as wave after wave of pleasure crashes over you, and the sound of him moaning and the feel of his release scorching your insides will be forever burned in your memory. 

Just a few days ago, he made you cum so hard you couldn’t bear to look at him afterwards.

Now? You’re not sure if you’d be able to cum without looking at him if you tried. 

Taglist: @eywaite @lyannalothbrok @erenjaegerwifee @f-cklife @beautiful-brown-skin-05 @minnory @localjasmine @luvv4j4ybe11 @vampirefilmlover @aria-tempest @pocky444 @xylianasblog @anemonelovesfiction @sbrn0905 @cuddle-stuff @pandoraslxna @bubblesfrfr @veiraiya @minjianhyung

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[okkennymay]

It's been a very interesting year to say the least- those months still weren't 100% healthy but it was such a difference it was like living a different life, one not filled with constant dread and fear of the next monthly health episode.

It was unreal and I wish I'd made more use of of that time online while I had the chance, instead of being nervous of setting my body off and ruining a good thing going- but having past a new month my body completely imploding (only partially, which still sucks eggs), I can start to pick myself back up and keep going, hopeful once more! (´▽`ʃ♡ƪ)

To all of you who have watched fade in and out of existence since my return online, Thank you for always being so patient 💖 my god was my previous username ghost-chicky ironic as hell, s2g it would be more appropriate these days than anything 0w0"