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#and I'm kind of in this community for few years now
me-loving-woso · 16 hours
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The day after tomorrow
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As promised here is Part 2 of Today. Tomorrow. You can find Part 1 here: Today. Tomorrow
As soon as you reached her building, you sent her a text.
**Y/n**: Are you home?
**Aitana**: Yes, I am. Why?
**Y/n:** Open the door.
You entered the building and quickly reached her door, knocking. After a few moments, she opened it, looking surprised, both at your presence and your new bald look.
"What are you doing here?"
"I'm here to apologize," you said shyly, waiting for her to let you in. She widened the door to let you in, then closed it again. "I'm really sorry about how I treated you today. It wasn't fair to you, and I'm really sorry."
"It's okay, really," she said without much thought.
"You can be mad at me; I deserve it," you told her.
"You're going through something really tough. I get it if you want to lash out or not be vulnerable around me, even if sometimes, I'd like it if you'd let me be there for you more," she softened her gaze, showing her sincerity.
"Maybe that's the problem," you came closer to her. "Aren't you going to get tired of waiting for me?"
She was taken aback by the question, surprised at your acknowledgment of what was happening between you. The last time that happened, you were drunk.
"Well, I don't see it that way. We are already kinda acting like a couple. We cuddle, we sometimes sleep together, we are there for each other, we communicate, and we both care for each other in a way that friends wouldn't," she pointed out. Those past weeks, she had been there for you like a girlfriend would.
"Well, you can say that, but is it enough? Do you really think we could go on like this for more than another month?"
"What are you trying to say, Y/n? Do you want this to end?"
"No, no. What I'm trying to say is that I don't think I've given you a proper chance. I pushed you away multiple times because I was scared. And I really don't want to anymore."
A smile crept onto her lips as she tried to suppress it. "So you're saying—"
"Yes, Tani. 70% of relationships fail in the first year, so let's be that 30%."
"Are you sure? Like 100%? Because if you're doing it for me, you really don't have to. I'm happy being what we are currently," she rambled.
"I'm doing it for myself. So now, just shut up and kiss me.”
She gently placed her hands on your cheeks and pulled you close to her lips. The kiss was so sweet that you both couldn't properly kiss each other because you couldn't stop smiling.
"Be serious! I can't kiss you properly," you told her, giggling.
"I'm trying!" She took a breath to keep her smile from creeping in and kissed you again, this time properly.
She took her time, making sure you both fully enjoyed kissing each other for the first time. You slowly pushed her until she was seated on the couch, while you surged forward, sitting on her lap. There, she held you tight by your waist, while you had your hands on the sides of her jaw.
When you finally pulled away to breathe, you began to pepper her cheeks, jaw, and forehead with small, quick kisses, making her giggle. You wished to hear that giggle for the rest of your life if you could.
She took a closer look at you. "You have to change your beanie!" she said, taking you off guard.
"Why? You don't like it? I'm not going for a wig if that's what you're asking."
"You're bringing an Adidas product into my home! Nike is better! Wait. I'll give you one of mine." She patted your leg for you to move, then got up and left for her room.
After a couple of seconds, she quickly came back to you, sat down on the couch, and urged you to get in the same position as before.
"Can I take the beanie off?" she asked you. It was going to be a big step for you, showing this kind of vulnerability to her. You knew she knew about your illness, but it still scared you that she would look at you differently.
You lightly nodded, and she slowly took the beanie off you, leaving your bare head on display. She gently caressed the back of your head. "How is this so smooth?" she stated jokingly. You smacked her head in response.
"You're an idiot. That's the same thing Ciro said to me," you chuckled.
"Joking aside, this right here is proof that you're one hell of a fighter, Y/n. Never forget that. The hair will eventually grow back, but your spirit and your will through this tough illness will make you even stronger." She picked up her Nike beanie and gently placed it on your head. "There you go. Definitely better." She gave you a soft kiss on your forehead and gently embraced you.
"I don't know how I got so lucky with you," you said gratefully.
"I'm the lucky one, believe me."
That night, you both remained awake until 2 AM. You told her everything about you—your first girlfriend, uni life and your relationship with Ciro and your mom. You wanted her to know everything about you and why you were the way you were.
In return, she told you everything about her life, why she loved football so much, and her deepest insecurities and fears. You both listened intently, deepening the bond that you had with each other. That conversation made you fall for her even more than before.
--
--
The next morning, Aitana headed to training with a newfound happiness. The night before had left her feeling incredibly content—words couldn't quite capture the depth of her emotions. Seeing you give her a proper chance filled her with immense gratitude.
Patience wasn't her strongest suit, but for you, she would have waited for years. In her mind, the connection that she felt with you wasn’t something that you could find with the first random person. It felt unique, but maybe all the new couples felt like this when they finally get togather.
As she entered the physio room for her session with Ciro before practice, she immediately noticed his new haircut.
"Whoa, new haircut? Looks sleek and aerodynamic!" she teased lightly.
"Is it that bad?" he asked, seemingly unfazed by her teasing.
"Just because you did it, and why you did it, it's perfect. I would've done it too if Y/n let me," she remarked.
"She would never. She'd be so mad!" Ciro chuckled.
"I know, right!"
His expression softened as he asked, "Y/n didn't come home last night. You guys talked?" Aitana felt a blush creep onto her cheeks, silently confirming his question. She sat down on the physio bed, and Ciro began working on her ankle.
"Should I give you the brother-in-law talk?" he asked, turning to her seriously.
"Whoa! A little too early for that. Give us at least a week!" she exclaimed, widening her eyes.
"Joking aside, I'm glad you didn't give up on her. It might not seem like it, but you've been helping her so much," Ciro remarked.
"You keep saying that, but in reality, I'm the one who needs her, not the opposite," Aitana admitted shyly.
"You're such a suck up!" Ciro joked, prompting Aitana to playfully push him off her ankle.
"That's not true! Without her, we both would be lost! Who would keep us in line?" Aitana retorted as Ciro finished taping her ankle. "You're good to go now."
-
During training, Aitana couldn't wipe the smile off her face, which caught the attention of her teammates, who were accustomed to her serious demeanor.
"Why are you so smiley?" Mapi asked, coming closer to her.
"No particular reason," Aitana lied.
"Does it have something to do with the art restorer?" Mapi pressed on.
"Maybe…" Aitana couldn't suppress the smile forming on her lips.
"She'd better treat you right," Mapi said protectively.
"She is."
"So when are you going to let us meet her properly?" Patri jumped into the conversation.
"I'll talk to her about it tonight," Aitana replied, thinking of the plans you two had after your chemo treatment.
"You never hang out with us anymore!"
"I do! It's just, I've been busy with—"
"Y/n, we know. You should take her out with us," Patri suggested.
"It's not that simple. I'll talk to her about it," Aitana said vaguely, refocusing on training.
-
After training, Aitana quickly showered, put on some sweats, and headed to the hospital to see you. As she entered your room, she found you surrounded by some friends, mostly middle-aged women with breast cancer, gossiping about the hot doctors in the oncology department and trying to set you up with their sons.
"Who's the lucky man?" Jimena, one of the women, asked curiously.
"Jimena, I'd rather not talk about my love life with chemicals running through my veins," you replied, trying to change the subject.
"I get it. Young love!" Jimena teased before Aitana came to your rescue with snacks. As she sat next to you, Jimena and the other women left you two alone to talk.
"Thank god you saved me, Tani. All these women were trying to fix me up with their sons," you whispered, greeting her with a kiss on the cheek.
"Were there any hot, rich contenders?" she asked playfully.
"Yeah! They were all rich entrepreneurs with abs of steel. One of them I think was an Espanyol player? He looked really hot," you teased her. Aitana was momentarily taken aback, but she quickly recovered.
"What? You thought I'd profess my undying love for you and tell you that you're my one and only," you joked, poking her side teasingly.
"I play for Barça and have abs of steel," she replied childishly, trying to one-up the fake contenders you'd invented.
"You're such a child, Tani! None of these fake contenders would stand a chance with you!" you smiled, finding her playful pout endearing.
"Say that I'm your one and only," she playfully prompts.
"You are my one and only," you humor her, lightly moving your body to give a kiss on her cheek. "Today." Another kiss. "Tomorrow." Another one. "The day after tomorrow." Yet another. "And all the days after that." One final kiss seals your declaration, and you see her satisfied look with a slight blush on her cheeks. "You just wanted a cheesy confession," you shake your head, smiling. "You're one little scrounger," you pinch her nose.
"You love it," she retorts.
"I do, but I'll be waiting for a cheesy love confession too."
-
As soon as you were done with the treatment, you decided to take a small walk, as the doctor advised. You headed to a nearby beach, deserted in January, leaving just the two of you.
"So, the team wants to meet you, like properly," she says, slightly nervous.
"Don't I meet them at your birthday party? In like a couple of weeks," you remind her.
"Well, yeah, I didn't actually think about that," she admits shyly.
"Why are you so nervous for me to meet your friends?" you ask, then realizing. "Is it because I have can—"
"Oh, god no! Never think that, okay?" She stops on her feet, turns to you, and gets shy again. "It's the first time I'm bringing a girl to meet them. I've always focused only on football until a couple of months ago—well, I ran into you. So now they're just really curious and they want to meet you."
"I'd love to meet your friends, Tani. You met Eva, so now it's my turn to meet your teammates."
"They can be a lot," she warns you.
"I think I can deal with it. Do they know I have cancer?" you ask.
"It's not my business to say."
"You should tell them. They'll probably call you crazy since you decided to get with a cancer patient. And they would be right," you giggle.
"You call it crazy. I call it just a shift of events. In the beginning, we'll live out the hard times, then we'll have the best times of our life. I'll take you to Japan, like you always wanted to, and you'll take me to Italy, and show me all of the art you restored there," she says hopefully. "And here's the cheesy love confession: I'm not very good at math, but I'm pretty good at figuring out that we belong together." Her unexpected pickup line makes you burst out in giggles. She then turns serious. "I really believe that we work out really well together, Y/n. Today. Tomorrow. The day after tomorrow. And all the days after that, I'll still believe that. So will you be my girlfriend, officially?"
"Damn, you actually are good at cheesy love confessions," you put your arms around her shoulders and pull her in for a hard kiss. She replies with the same kind of intensity and emotion.
"So it's a yes?"
"Yes," you say excitedly, going back to kiss her.
-
-
Aitana's birthday didn't start as you hoped. It was her first day off in a long time, and you wanted her to have a wonderful day. However, your plans were interrupted around 5 AM when you felt your mouth water, a sign of what was to come.
You rushed to the toilet and emptied your stomach, a common side effect of chemo but a first-time experience for you. After quickly brushing your teeth, you returned to bed, hoping it wouldn't recur. Aitana rolled over to your side and cuddled into you.
"Good morning," she whispered with a raspy voice.
"Good morning, birthday girl. Why are you up so early?" You kissed her scalp. "Go back to sleep." She relaxed against you, or rather, on top of you.
You didn't mind; you loved her cuddliness. Your hand found its way inside her shirt, soothingly rubbing her back until she drifted back to sleep.
She properly woke at 8 AM, and with some coaxing from you, you both headed to the kitchen for breakfast.
"What's the plan for today?" she asked.
"It's your birthday; whatever you want to do," you replied.
"I just want to spend it with you," she smiled goofily.
"You're such a sweet talker," you rolled your eyes.
"Since it's my birthday, you'll have to indulge me in everything," she said excitedly. "Even the most absurd things."
"What do you want?" You handed her a cup of coffee, relishing the domestic moment.
"I want a puppy," she said eagerly.
"Tani, mi amor, mi vida, mi alma, we are not getting a puppy."
"A kitten?" she suggested.
"Even worse."
"Okay, worth a shot," she said sadly, making you giggle.
"I'll give you all the kisses and cuddles you want?" you suggested.
"I think I can be satisfied with that," she said, pulling you onto her lap. "Starting with now." You shook your head amused, wrapping your arms around her shoulders and leaning in. "So I was thinking, let's have a lazy morning, then you'll take me out to lunch at that place we love so much, then in the afternoon, we'll go to the pet store and get a puppy."
"Aitana," you warned her.
"In the afternoon… we’ll figure it out then," she said.
"I have to go to the office for a couple of minutes this afternoon," you lied. You needed to get her present—a small bracelet— at home. You also had to call your doctor about what happened that morning and whether you should be worried.
Honestly, you weren't scared to meet her teammates; what scared you most were her childhood best friends. They knew her since elementary school and were extremely protective, those were the ones you really had to impress.
-
After lunch, you quickly excused yourself and got to your house to get Aitana’s bracelet, and then as a way to apologize you bought her some flowers before you got back to her.
As soon as you got inside her apartment, you heard so many voices, that you never heard of. Her friends were here. Fuck. You were not ready to meet them, you subconsciously fix your beanie, and walk through the door. You are quickly met with Aitana, who meets you at the door, wanting to greet you. As soon as she saw the flowers, her smile widened. 
“Hi, Tani. I wanted to apologize for not being here in the afternoon, so I bought you these.” You explained. Handing her the flowers, while she admired them.
“I love them, thank you so much.” She stands on her tippy toes to give you a kiss, which you gladly prolonged.
After a couple of seconds, she whispered, “My friends are here, they wanted to come earlier to say hi before the party. I’m sorry I should have told you.”
You swallowed hard, and tried to keep on a smile, you weren’t ready to meet them.
“Aitana? Is Y/n here?” A voice interrupted you from replying to your girlfriend.
“We are coming!” She tells him, while she takes your hand. “They are going to love you, just as much as I do.” She reassures you casually saying the last part without even realizing it. But you did.
Before she could drag you to her living room, you drag her closer to you, placing your hands on each side of her face, lightly caressing her cheeks, and give her one final lazy kiss. “Now we are ready to go.” She gives you one last reassuring smile and showed you to her friends.
“Pepe, Juan and Maria, I want you to meet Y/n.”
“So this is the girl who has been making our Aitana talk non-stop about! For a moment I thought that you were fake!” A guy offers his hand to shake. “Hi, I’m Pepe. Nice to meet you.”
“Y/n.” You shake his hand smiling. “Nice to meet you too, Pepe. I assure you, I’m very much real.”
“Good to know! Aitana’s been going on and on about you. I was starting to think she’d invented the perfect partner in her head.” The other guy Juan interjects.
“Well, I am far from perfect, your friend is the crazy one for keeping up with me!” You chuckle, smiling gratefully to Aitana
“I think you are the crazy one to keep up with her! She can be a hassle sometimes.” Pepe, teases you girlfriends, earning a death glare from her.
“Tell me about it! She’s competitive down to her bones, she never lets me win at anything!” You follow Pepe, making Aitana turn to you. “Don’t look at me like that! You got mad because I was better than you at doing my own job.” You reason.
-
After a couple of minutes, the teasing subsided, making Aitana little more relaxed, she hated when people teased her, something that you always did, because you found her pout to be extremely cute.
You knew that probably Aitana told them not to say anything to you about you having cancer, and even though you loved that she wanted to protect you, it wasn’t something to hide or to not talk about.
As soon as Aitana left to go to the bathroom, you turn to her friends, “I know that Aitana told you not to talk to me about my cancer. But if you have any questions you can ask.” You could see that they were surprised. 
Pepe exchanged a glare with his friends, “Nah, don’t worry. We are good. I know it must be hard for the both of you. But yeah, whatever you need, we are here. My mom had cancer, so I know how it feels like.”
“Plus, I’ve always known that Aitana had somewhat of a Nightingale Syndrome!” Juan joked, making you chuckle surprised.
“Its the only possible reasoning for her to get in a relationship with me.”
“Or maybe it’s because you make me really happy and feel supported?” Aitana walk to from the bathroom and finds her place next to you wrapping an arm around you waist, waiting for you to peck her lips, which you happily oblige.
“I still think it’s the Nightingale syndrome.” You chuckle. “Let’s hope you won’t forget about me when I’ll be cancer free.” 
“You should tie her down, so she’s stuck with you.” Pepe jokes.
“I can’t get you pregnant, I’ll just have to find another way.” You think. 
“I hate this coalition against me. A I don’t have Nightingale syndrome. B, today is supposed to be my birthday, NOT tease Aitana day.”
“We are so sorry.” You give her a kiss on the cheek. “I’ll never tease you again.” You lie. “Now if you let me, I’ll steal away Tani for a moment.” You take her hand and drag her to her bedroom, where you had her birthday gift.
“So I know, you told not to buy you anything, but I wanted to give you a little present. And no it’s not a puppy.”
You give her a little box. “So I know that you can’t have bracelets on you, because of football, so I found a knot that you can easily take off and put on.” She opens the box, it was a red string bracelet, which was thought to bring protection and luck. “I know you don’t like ostentatious stuff, so I went with something simple.”
“I love it. Thank you so much.” She hugged you tightly, filling your necks with small pecks. “I can wear bracelets, I’ll just have to cover it when I have a match. Can you put it on for me?”
You gently put it on for her, while she happily admires it. 
“Is it okay? I didn’t know what to gift you.” You tell her. “You have some pretty difficult taste in stuff.” You chuckle.
“I love it, really. I’ll wear it on, so that I can have a reminder of you, whenever I’m away.” She beams.
“Always so cheesy.” You kiss her lips. “I like you really really much, you know that?” You tell her.
Her birthday party was set to be at her house because going out was too risky—you couldn’t afford to get sick. Despite your insistence that she do whatever she wanted, she said if it were up to her, she’d spend her birthday just with you. Everyone would be coming over at 8 PM, so you had a couple of hours to get ready.
Your whole body was aching: your joints, your head, your throat—everything. But you promised yourself that it was Aitana’s day, so you’d endure the pain for her happiness. You took some painkillers, but since you weren’t used to them, they made you drowsy.
You decided to wear something simple: jeans and one of Aitana’s shirts. You loved wearing her shirts because they smelled like her, and you loved her reaction when she saw you in them. Today was no exception.
“Comfy?” she asked, emerging from the bathroom into her room where you were changing. Even though you’d been together for over two months, you hadn’t taken the next step in your relationship. Since you started chemo, your sex drive had plummeted, and you’d stopped having periods.
Aitana never brought it up, knowing it should come from you. You appreciated that she never pressured you or made you uncomfortable, but sometimes your mind would twist things, making you think she didn’t touch you because she didn’t want to. This insecurity often resurfaced at the worst times, especially when meeting people from Aitana’s life and presenting yourself as a fragile cancer patient.
“Yes, very much, thank you,” you chuckle. She rounds the bed to get closer, wrapping you in a big hug from behind.
“It’s annoying that you look better in my clothes than I do. We should swap closets,” she says, giving you a sweet kiss on the cheek that makes you blush. “You look beautiful.” She turns you around and gives you a searing kiss, making your knees nearly give out. You open your eyes to see how she’s dressed.
“Even though I’m sure you could make a trash bag look hot, you look stunning tonight,”  you reply, smiling proudly. She wasn’t wearing something that elaborate, a simple dress, but it was more than enough for her to look even more beautiful than she already was. Sometimes you couldn’t believe you were lucky enough to have a girlfriend like her.
“I didn’t overdo it, right?” she asks, sounding insecure.
“Tani, it’s your birthday. Everyone else should adjust to how you dress,” you reassure her. “Ready to go to the living room?” You offer her your hand.
She takes it but swiftly throws you onto the bed, making you squeal in surprise. She giggles and plops on top of you. Thank God for those painkillers. “No, I want to stay here with you! You’re comfy, and you promised unlimited kisses and cuddles,” she whines.
You chuckle, gently scratching her scalp. She loved head scratches.
After a while, with Aitana rambling about the upcoming weeks, she suddenly stops and looks at you seriously. You tilt your head, curious and a bit worried.
“What?”
“Can I feel it?” she asks.
“Feel what?” you ask, raising an eyebrow.
“The lump on your neck,” she whispers. You pat her side to make her sit up.
“I don’t think it’s the right time. I don’t want to change your mood,” you argue weakly.
“You never let me kiss or touch that side of your neck,” she says, looking down at her hands.
“Because it feels worse than it looks, and I don’t want you to freak out.”
“I want to be able to touch all of you.” You raise an eyebrow suggestively. “Okay, that sounded bad. I apologize,” she chuckles. “But you know what I mean.”
You nod, gently taking her right arm. “Are you sure?” She nods. You guide her hand to your neck. Your eyes twitch as she touches the lump.
“It feels... different than I expected,” she murmurs, her fingertips lingering on the lump, exploring it with careful curiosity. You watch her, your heart heavy, knowing she’s grappling with the reality of it.
“Yeah, it’s not just in our heads,” you say softly, trying to keep your voice steady. Her eyes meet yours, showing a mix of fear and determination.
“It’s real,” she whispers, her voice catching. “I mean, I knew it was, but feeling it... it makes it so real.”
You nod, feeling a lump forming in your throat. “Yeah. It’s real.”
“But we’ll fight this, okay?” she says, a determined spark in her eyes giving you hope. “I’ll be by your side.”
You nod, feeling the lump in your throat tighten. “Mark my words, if we get through this, I’ll be the most supportive, fun, and grateful girlfriend you deserve. You make me so happy. I just want you to have some happiness, Tani,” you say, feeling deflated.
“I don’t need anything else,” she replies, her voice soft but firm. “Your happiness is my happiness. We’re in this together. You’re stuck with me, and we’ll come out stronger on the other side. Together.”
You squeeze her hand, drawing strength from her unwavering resolve. “Together,” you echo.
She smiles, a mix of determination and love. “Every step of the way. And when this is over, we’ll take those trips to Japan and Italy we planned, and then we’ll have our happy days, cari. But for now, we take it one day at a time.”
You nod, feeling a sense of peace settle over you. “One day at a time.” You pause. “You’d tell me if it’s too much, right?”
“It’s not too much, cari.” Sensing your distress, she reassures you. “But yes, I’ll tell you if something changes.”
You give her a final hug, trying to pour all your gratitude into it. “Now, why don’t we go downstairs before one of your friends starts thinking we’re hooking up,” you say, lightening the mood as you pull away.
You head downstairs, and as you pass her friends on your way to the living room, you catch their suggestive smirks, making you blush lightly while Aitana rolls her eyes at them. You help her get everything ready and wait for the rest of the guests to arrive.
You figured her teammates knew about your cancer because when they arrived, they weren't shocked to see you without hair and visibly more tired. Aitana vividly remembered how that conversation went down.
-
It was three days before her birthday, and Aitana was in the changing room, telling her team about the small get-together she was planning at her home.
“If you want to come, I’m having a small party at my house for my birthday,” she said, inviting everyone. She knew most of the younger girls, except for Pina, Jana, and Bruna, probably wouldn’t show up.
“At home? Don’t you usually do it at a restaurant? Did you have trouble booking a place?” someone asked as most of the uninterested teammates left, leaving Aitana with her captains, the Norwegians, Mapi, Patri, the youngsters, and Rölfo.
“I’d rather do it at home. It’s quieter and we don’t have to overpay for drinks,” she said, making up an excuse. In reality, she knew you couldn’t risk going out to crowded places because of your condition. She preferred to spend her birthday with you.
“I think this has something to do with Y/n. Is she making you stay at home? Is she really jealous or something?” Patri asked, sounding more accusatory than curious.
“Y/n? She’s not that jealous. Why do I get the feeling you don’t like her?” Aitana asked, her tone a mix of curiosity and concern, shifting uncomfortably on her bench.
“We know she must be great, but since you got together, you never hang out with us anymore. You don’t stay after training or join us for breakfast. We’re just worried about you getting too wrapped up in the relationship,” Alexia said, her voice full of concern and care.
“She’s not making me stay home. I basically force her to hang out with me. If she knew I was skipping hangouts, she’d force me to go out with you guys,” Aitana defended your intentions, trying to make them understand you weren’t restricting her.
“Then why don’t you hang out with us anymore?” Patri pressed. “Did we do something wrong?”
Aitana sighed, feeling the weight of her friends' concerns. She knew they meant well but didn’t understand the full picture. “No, you didn’t do anything wrong. It’s not about you. It’s just... Y/n has been going through a lot.” Her friends’ confused expressions spurred her on. “Y/n has cancer. And before you say anything, I knew before we got together.”
The room fell silent. Mapi’s eyes widened with shock and empathy. “Aitana, we had no idea. I’m so sorry. Why didn’t you tell us?”
“At first, I thought it was Y/n’s right to tell who she wanted about her cancer, but then she said it was best if you knew, since you’d probably meet her properly someday.”
Patri nodded, her skepticism replaced with concern. “We’re sorry if we made you feel judged. We just miss you and want to be there for you. How can we help?”
Aitana chuckled. “Well, unless you can find a magical cure for cancer, there’s not much you can do. But if it’s not too much to ask, just being there for us would mean the world.”
-
As soon as they saw you hand in hand with Aitana, two girls approached you. One was insanely tall, and the other had tattoos all over her arms.
“Hi, you must be Y/N?” the tall one said.
“Yeah, that’s me. You must be Ingrid and Mapi, right?” you asked, shaking their hands.
You noticed Mapi’s tattoos and recognized some of the designs. “I love your tattoos. Do you go to Javi?”
“Yeah! How did you know?” she looked surprised.
“We went to school together. He’s one of my best friends. I helped him out with some designs.”
“Oh, that’s awesome! He mentioned a friend helped with some designs, but I never imagined it was you,” Mapi exclaimed, her eyes lighting up with excitement. “Javi is amazing. He did this sleeve for me,” she said, showing off the intricate designs on her arm. “It’s one of my favorites.”
You recognized some of your own designs. “I did the skull with the lightbulb and the squirrel!”
“Oh, that’s so cool!” Mapi said excitedly. “The skull with the lightbulb is one of my favorites. And the squirrel is such a fun piece!”
You smiled, feeling proud. “I’m really glad you like them. It’s always nice to see my work out in the world.”
Aitana turned to you with a surprised smile. “I didn’t know you could draw!”
You shrugged modestly, feeling bashful under Aitana’s gaze. “It’s just a hobby. Javi and I used to spend hours sketching together before getting busy with work.”
Ingrid looked impressed. “A hobby? You’ve got real talent. You should definitely do more with it. I know for sure that Mapi would love a few more tattoos.”
“Do you have any tattoos?” Mapi asked curiously.
You blushed lightly. “I have three.” Aitana's head snapped towards you, her eyes wide with surprise.
“What?!” she exclaimed. “I’ve never seen them.”
“Don’t act too surprised, Tani. They’re well hidden.” You turned to Mapi and Ingrid, who were waiting for you to continue. “I have one that’s a one-inch line from my favorite movie, *V for Vendetta*: The second one is a quote, and the third... well, it’s a bit more hidden. Let’s just say that.” You winked at Aitana.
You got your first two tattoos when you were 18. The first was significant to you, a permanent reminder of something important. The second was more cheeky, known only to those who’ve seen you naked and your friend Eva. It was a small outline of a heart on one of your ass cheeks. Your third tattoo was one of your favorite quotes from the painter Artemisia Gentileschi: “You will find the spirit of Caesar in this soul of a woman.”
Aitana looked like she wanted to say more, but as soon as you saw Ciro come inside, you quickly excused yourself to greet him.
“I’m going to say hi to Ciro.” You turned to Aitana, giving her a lingering kiss, not too long to draw attention. Then you turned to her teammates. “It was lovely to meet you guys. I hope we can talk more about some tattoo ideas.” You walked away, hugging your brother.
Mapi and Ingrid turned to Aitana, who was still looking at you, smiling to herself.
Ingrid chuckled at Aitana’s state, making her turn her attention to her teammates. “Sorry.” She bowed her head, her cheeks turning rosy. “You really love her, don’t you?”
Aitana’s blush deepened, and she couldn’t help but smile even wider. “Yeah, I really do,” she admitted warmly. “She’s amazing. I’m still finding out new things about her every day, and I love it. Plus, she’s so strong and fearless.” She glanced at you, laughing with your brother. “I can’t believe she’s my girl. She’s just incredible.”
“And so hot!” Mapi said without thinking, earning a death glare from her own girlfriend.
“She is! It’s so frustrating sometimes,” Aitana agreed, laughing.
-
Meanwhile, you were grabbing drinks with Ciro when the nausea hit again. Not wanting to make a scene, you excused yourself and headed to the bathroom to throw up. Ciro quickly noticed something was wrong and followed you.
He knocked on the door. "It's Ciro, can you let me in?"
You sighed and unlocked the door. Another wave of nausea hit, and you doubled over the toilet, trying to keep quiet. Ciro crouched next to you, rubbing your back soothingly. Once the wave passed, you leaned back against the wall, exhausted.
"Y/N, this is serious," Ciro said quietly, concern on his face. "You need to tell Aitana."
You shook your head weakly. "Not tonight, Ciro. It's her birthday party. I don't want to ruin it."
"How long has this been going on?" he asked, continuing to rub your back.
"Since this morning. I took a painkiller because all my joints are killing me. Why did it have to be today?" You looked up at the ceiling, exasperated.
Ciro sighed deeply. "Y/N, you can't keep pushing yourself like this. You need to take care of yourself, even if it means taking a step back tonight."
You nodded, feeling the weight of his words. "I know, Ciro. But I just want Aitana to have a perfect night. She's been looking forward to this for so long."
Ciro gave you a sympathetic look. "I get it. But she loves you and would want you to be okay more than anything else. Let's get you through tonight, and then you need to rest. Promise me."
"Okay," you agreed reluctantly. "I promise."
Ciro helped you to your feet, and you steadied yourself before brushing your teeth. You tried to put on a brave face, but the exhaustion and nausea were hard to hide.
As you reentered the party, Aitana immediately noticed something was off. She walked over, concern on her face. "Hey, are you sure you're okay? You don't look well."
You gave her a reassuring smile, even though you felt far from it. "I'm okay, just a bit tired. Don't worry about me, let's enjoy your party."
You went to the kitchen for some water and then stepped outside for fresh air. Ciro followed, keeping an eye on you.
Outside, you lit a cigarette, something you hadn't done in years, and slowly inhaled, feeling a calming effect. You knew it was wrong, but you needed some relief.
“You must be the art restorer?” one of Aitana’s teammates asked.
You turned to her. “That’s me.”
“I’m Alexia.”
"Tani’s team captain. I’ve heard about you… Please don’t tell her I smoke. It’s my first in years."
“Do you have another one?” she asked, surprising you with the request.
You hesitated before handing her the pack. Alexia took one and lit it, taking a slow drag before exhaling. The two of you stood in silence for a moment, the cool night air providing some relief.
"Thanks," Alexia said softly. "I won't tell Aitana. We all have our vices."
You nodded, taking another drag. "Yeah, we do."
Alexia studied you for a moment. "So, how long have you been an art restorer?"
You smiled, grateful for the distraction. "About six years now. It's my passion, bringing old pieces back to life."
She nodded appreciatively. "That's really cool. Aitana talks about you all the time. It's obvious how much she cares about you."
Your heart ached at her words. "I care about her too. More than anything."
Alexia smiled, taking another drag. "It's great to see. She's special, and she deserves someone who loves her as much as you do."
You nodded, feeling the weight of your secret pressing on you. The night air, mixed with the cigarette smoke, made you slightly dizzy, but you steadied yourself. "Thanks, Alexia. That means a lot coming from you."
The two of you stood in comfortable silence for a while, just taking in the night and the muffled sounds of the party inside.
"So, what brought you out here, really?" Alexia asked, breaking the silence. "You don't seem like the type to sneak out for a smoke."
You hesitated, the truth bubbling up inside you. "I hate meeting new people. I have to charge my social battery." You chuckled.
“Tell me about it. I have to endure hours of media every week.”
You both finished your cigarettes. Alexia handed you a mint chewing gum, and the two of you headed back inside.
Everyone was mingling in small groups. You were about to speak when you felt a body collide with yours in a hug.
“Damn, Tani, you still have energy at 11 PM!” You chuckled, pulling her into a tight hug.
She shrugged. “I was searching for you everywhere. I missed you!”
“I was with Alexia, getting some fresh air, Tani,” you reassured her. You could see in her eyes that she wanted some attention, so you quickly said your goodbyes to Alexia and focused on the birthday girl.
She took your hand and led you to the living room, where some friends were chatting. She sat down on the couch and pulled you onto her lap, circling her arms around your waist.
"You know, I think I missed you more," you teased, leaning in to kiss her softly.
Aitana laughed, her eyes twinkling. "That's impossible. But I'll let you think that."
The warmth of her embrace and the lively chatter around you made it easier to forget about everything else for a moment. You nestled into her, feeling the steady rhythm of her heartbeat against your back.
The room was filled with laughter and light, and for a while, you allowed yourself to relax and enjoy the festivities.
“So, tell me more about this art restoration,” Fridolina, one of Aitana’s friends, piped up. “I’ve always been fascinated by that kind of work.”
You smiled, grateful for the distraction. “It’s incredibly rewarding. There’s something magical about bringing old, forgotten pieces back to life.”
“That sounds amazing,” Ingrid chimed in, her eyes wide with interest. “Do you have a favorite piece you’ve worked on?”
You thought for a moment. “There was this old Renaissance painting that came into the studio a few years ago. It was in terrible shape, covered in grime and with a lot of damage. It was from Artemisia Gentileschi, a very particular painter. She was one of the few female artists of her time, and her works are incredibly powerful and brutal. Restoring her painting felt like reviving a piece of her story.”
Aitana’s friends listened intently, clearly captivated by your passion. Aitana squeezed your hand, her pride in you evident.
"Which painting was it?" Fridolina asked, leaning forward with interest.
"It was 'Judith Slaying Holofernes.' The details, the intensity in Judith’s expression, and the dramatic use of light and shadow—it’s breathtaking. Bringing that piece back to its original glory was one of the most fulfilling experiences of my career."
"Wow," Ingrid said, visibly impressed. "It must be amazing to see the transformation up close."
"It is," you agreed. "There’s something almost intimate about it, like connecting with the artist across centuries."
The conversation flowed easily, with Aitana’s friends asking more questions about your work and sharing their own interests. The night wore on, filled with laughter and joy.
As the party began to wind down and the majority of the guests left, you found a quiet moment with Aitana on the balcony. The city lights illuminated the ambient below, and a gentle breeze rustled the leaves around you.
“Thank you for tonight. I know you were feeling sick and kept going for me. Next time, please don’t do it.”
You gave her a reassuring smile, taking her hands in yours. “I wanted to be here for you, Tani. You mean the world to me. But I promise, I’ll take better care of myself. I won’t push it next time.”
She sighed, leaning her head on your shoulder. “I just worry about you. I want you to be okay.”
“I know, and I appreciate it,” you said, kissing the top of her head. “I’ll be more careful. I don’t want to worry you.”
Aitana looked up at you, her eyes filled with love and concern. “I just don’t want to lose you.”
“You won’t,” you whispered, pulling her into a tight embrace. “We’ll get through this together, I promise.”
The two of you stood there for a while, wrapped in each other’s arms, finding solace in the quiet night and the love you shared. Despite the challenges ahead, you felt a renewed sense of strength and determination, knowing that you had Aitana by your side.
After a few moments, Aitana pulled back slightly and looked into your eyes. “Let’s go inside and get some rest. You need it.”
You nodded, feeling the weight of exhaustion settling in. “Yeah, that sounds like a good idea.”
As you walked back into the apartment, you couldn’t help but feel grateful for Aitana and the love you shared. It gave you the strength to face whatever lay ahead, knowing that together, you could overcome anything.
You both went to the bedroom and got ready to sleep. You wore one of Aitana’s joggers and a shirt you brought for the sleepover. Aitana came out from the bathroom after getting into her sleepwear and sat on the bed, taking off her earrings.
After a couple of minutes, she turned to you, seeing you already sitting on the bed, setting your alarm clock. She rolled over to you with a waiting gaze, clearly wanting to ask you something.
“What?”
“You could have told me that you had three tattoos.” She pouted slightly.
“Well, you never asked.” You smirked playfully.
“Now I’m asking. Can I see them?”
You hesitated. Your first tattoo, the line, was right under your breast, the second one was on your side, and the third... you definitely wanted to wait for her to see it.
You were nervous about showing her your body, as she had never seen you without a shirt on. The changes from cancer and seeing Aitana’s teammates tonight had made you feel inadequate. 
Aitana noticed your hesitation, her expression softening. “Hey, it’s okay. You don’t have to show me if you’re not comfortable,” she said gently, reaching out to take your hand.
You took a deep breath, deciding to take a step forward in vulnerability. “It’s not that I don’t want to show you… it’s just, you’ve never seen me without a shirt, so I guess I’m a little bit scared?” You tried to be honest with her.
Aitana’s eyes widened in surprise and concern. “Why would you be scared? I think you are beautiful, both in and out.”
You looked down, feeling a lump in your throat. “My body… it’s changed a lot because of the cancer. I don’t look the same as I used to, and seeing your teammates tonight just made me feel… inadequate.”
Aitana’s grip on your hand tightened, and she pulled you into a hug. “Y/N, you’re beautiful to me. You’ve been through so much, and I admire your strength. I don’t care about how your body looks; I care about you, the person I fell in love with.”
Her words were like a balm to your anxious mind. You took another deep breath and decided to trust her completely. “Okay. I’ll show you.”
You raised your shirt, stopping just before your breast, showing her the first tattoo. She lightly traced the ink with adoration.
“The second one is on the side, it’s a quote.” You revealed it. “Troverete lo spirito di Cesare in questa anima di donna.” You repeated the quote. “Which means: You will find the spirit of Caesar in this soul of a woman.” She lightly caressed your side where the quote showed.
“They are all beautiful. Damn, I didn’t think you’d be someone who had tattoos.”
“I guess you don’t know everything about me then.”
“What about your third?”
“Well, that one I got on a whim. Not many people have seen it.” You smirked suggestively.
“Well, now I’m curious.” She was intrigued.
“I won’t show it to you now if that’s what you’re asking.”
“Okay, okay, I respect that. I am a very patient woman; I’ll wait. Can you just tell me where it is?” She pleaded curiously.
“I’ll tell you this, the only people who have seen it are Eva, because I was with her when I got it, and the people who have seen me naked.”
Aitana's eyes widened with curiosity and a hint of playfulness. "Well, now you have me even more intrigued," she said, chuckling. "But I can wait. It’ll make it all the more special when I do see it."
You smiled, feeling a warmth spread through you at her words. Her understanding and patience were just a few of the many reasons you loved her so much. "I promise you’ll see it when the time is right," you said softly.
Aitana leaned in and kissed you gently. "I look forward to it. Thank you for sharing this with me tonight. It means a lot.”
As you both settled into bed, you positioned yourself on top of her to give her one final kiss. “Good night, Tani. I hope you had fun tonight.” You rolled over to your side, getting into a comfy position to sleep, while your girlfriend was already half asleep.
She replied lazily and almost unconsciously. “I had fun, good night Cari. I love you.” You widened your eyes as a smile crept on your cheeks.
-
Three months into your relationship, you couldn’t be happier. Your cancer was receding, and you were nearly finished with your fifth cycle of chemo before discussing the next steps with your doctor.
Three days before Aitana was set to leave for Bilbao for the Copa de la Reina semi-final, you visited the doctor’s office. Ciro took a day off work to accompany you. Your oncologist, who was serious but supportive, greeted you.
“So, Y/N, I have good news and bad news.” Your heart skipped a beat. “Good news: your cancer is receding. The treatment is going great, and I think we should operate, perform a thyroidectomy as soon as possible. Thursday would be ideal.”
You sighed in relief, almost at the end of this ordeal.
“The bad news is the position of the cancer. We might be able to remove it completely, but there are risks. Your cancer is very close to your vocal cords. You might lose your voice.”
You had never considered that possibility. “What’s the probability it might go wrong?” you asked fearfully.
“30%. I know it’s a significant risk, but it’s the best solution. We can fully remove it. No more chemo, no more suffering.” Seeing your hesitation, he added, “I won’t ask you to decide right now. Take some hours to think about it. But the sooner we act, the better.”
Your doctor left the room to give you some privacy.
You turned to Ciro. “I don’t think there’s any real choice, is there?”
“No, there isn’t, but that doesn’t make it any easier.”
After informing your doctor that you agreed to the operation, you headed home, while Ciro had to return to work for training. 
Thirty minutes later, you heard a knock on your door. Knowing it was probably Aitana, you opened it to find her holding a beautiful bouquet of flowers that hid her face. She peeked out, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “Surprise!” she said, handing you the flowers.
You hugged her. “You really know how to make a girl swoon, Tani.”
“Only for you.” You took the flowers and kissed her in gratitude.
You led her inside and prepared a snack for both of you. She sat on the couch, waiting. As you sat down next to her, she leaned in for another kiss. “What was that for?” you asked.
“Can’t I kiss my beautiful girlfriend?”
“Anytime you like.”
“How was the doctor’s appointment?” she asked as you cuddled up.
You sat up. “The treatment is working, and they want to operate. My cancer is receding, and it might go away completely with the operation.” Your tone wasn’t as optimistic as your words.
She sensed there was more. “That’s great! But why do you look so worried? Is there a but?”
“Two. First, the surgery is on Thursday during the Copa de la Reina semi-final. And before you say anything, no, I won’t let you skip it. You’ve already missed two matches because of me, without even telling me.”
“And the other?” she asked, defeated.
“I might lose my voice.”
Aitana’s eyes widened with concern. “But if it’s your best shot at beating cancer, wouldn’t you take it?”
“I’ve already agreed, Aitana. But that’s not the point. Promise me something?”
“Anything,” she said seriously.
"You'll leave me if I lose my voice, okay?"
She blinked, taken aback. "What?"
"I don’t want you to be with someone you have to constantly take care of. You deserve so much better."
"No, no, no," she said, shaking her head and taking your hands. "You can’t ask me that. I won’t leave you. You’re stuck with me, okay?"
You chuckled, feeling a lump in your throat. "I’m doing this for you. This is an out. Why can’t you take it?"
"Because I don’t want to!" she said, almost angrily. "Don’t push me away, please."
"I’m not pushing you away. I’m doing this for you. You deserve better. You deserve someone who can give you everything. And right now, I can’t. For god’s sake, we’ve been together for five months, and I can’t even take my shirt off in front of you!" you reasoned, your frustration mounting.
She looked shocked, almost taken aback. "Is... Is this about sex?"
You hid your face in your palms. "No... I mean... I don’t know," you stuttered.
"No. No, Cari, sex has never been an issue for me. You’re going through cancer; it’s normal that you don’t want to have sex."
"I know, but what about your needs?"
"My needs? I’ve waited eighteen years of my life without sex. I can deal with waiting for a while," she reassured you. "Plus, the wait will make it even better!"
"You know, I’d get it if you wanted to find someone else to be physical with. I wouldn’t blame you."
"And kiss someone else? Touch someone else? Make someone else feel good? Never," she reassured you. "You are the most beautiful girl I have ever seen. You make me so happy. Why would I jeopardize that for some fleeting pleasure?"
"You always say that I’m beautiful. But... Do you find me hot?" you almost whispered the last part.
Aitana's expression softened, and she cupped your face gently, her thumb tracing your cheek. 
"Y/N, you are the most gorgeous person I know. You’re beautiful, inside and out. And yes, I find you incredibly hot."
You still looked unconvinced, so she quickly made you sit on her lap and unzipped her hoodie, remaining in her shirt. She took your hand and guided it inside her shirt next to her heart. It was beating fast.
"Do you feel it? This is what you do to me. Whenever you sit on my lap or nibble that part of my ear that you know is so sensitive, you make my heart race out of proportion. And so fucking wet that it hurts sometimes." You chuckled, feeling her heart pounding. "Don’t ever doubt my attraction or my loyalty towards you," she told you firmly, making you believe her. You nodded. "And don’t you dare think for even a minute that I’ll leave you if you lose your voice. We’re in this together, and we’ll find a solution together," she said resolutely.
-
-
On Wednesday, the day before the game, Aitana brought you to the hospital and helped you check in. 
You sat on the hospital bed, waiting for your doctor. "I’ll be here as soon as the game finishes, okay? Tell Ciro to send me updates, or else I’ll kill him." She kissed your temple and was about to leave when you took her hand to stop her.
"I want to tell you something. Maybe tomorrow I won’t be able to. I know I’ve never said it; I’ve always waited."
"You’ll tell me when I get back."
"No, please, Tani, let me say it. I wouldn’t forgive myself if I didn’t tell you right now." She nodded. "I love you, Aitana Bonmatí. Today, tomorrow, the day after tomorrow, and all the days after that."
"I love you too, Cari." She rubbed her nose against yours and kissed you on the lips. 
"Go and beat Athletic’s club ass, okay?”
--
Needless to say, until she saw you again, Aitana couldn’t keep her mind off you. Her teammates noticed she wasn't focused on the game, and Mapi pulled her aside during the warm-up.
"Hey, Aitana, are you okay?" Fridolina asked, concern evident in her voice.
Aitana sighed, running a hand through her hair. "No, not really. Y/N is having surgery right now, and I can't stop thinking about it. I'm worried."
Frido placed a comforting hand on Aitana's shoulder. "I get it, but you have to try and focus on the game for now. She'd want you to give it your all out there. Besides, we're all here for you. If you need anything, just let us know."
Aitana nodded, taking a deep breath. "Thanks, Frido. I'll try my best."
As the game progressed, Aitana pushed herself to concentrate, channeling her anxiety into her performance. Every time she made a play, she thought of you, imagining how proud you'd be. Despite the distraction, she played one of her best games, driven by the desire to make you proud.
When the final whistle blew, Barcelona had secured a resounding victory. Aitana immediately checked her phone, finding a message from Ciro: “Surgery is done. We don’t know anything right now.”
Fear washed over her, and her hands started to tremble as her mind filled with what-ifs. She looked down at the bracelet you had gifted her, seeking comfort. She couldn’t lose you. Most importantly, she needed to get back to you.
She got on the first plane and left for Barcelona. 
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harlequin-wheels · 1 day
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kind of a weird question, but. the whole sui beans thing, i feel like that's everywhere now, but i also feel like the first time i remember seeing that was something you drew years ago as a joke. is that what happened? did it just kind of snowball?
the sui beans weren't started by me!! i believe the origin of those beans is a set official Arknights stickers drawn by South_AC in early 2022, and then after seeing those little fellas I included them in an animation a few months later.
I'm actually not entirely sure if they're the original artist or if that's where they originated from, if anyone more tuned into the cn community could confirm that'd be much appreciated!
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Morning, all! Just wanted to do another quick check-in as I continue to get caught up from the past few days. First of all, thank you and welcome to all the new followers! This is not something I was looking for or expecting, but is much appreciated. We've barely scratched the surface of my collection so far, so I hope you'll stick around for the rest of the excavation XD
A few points have been popping up in replies to my 'doll blog rec' post that I wanted to address:
Not sure what type of dolls you're interested in, but...
The short answer to this is all of them. All the dolls. I've been in this hobby a long time (I'm in my mid 40s and have been collecting seriously for 30+ years), and although the main focus of my collection has prodomentely been fashion dolls, I have at least an academic interest in many other types--antique dolls, vintage 20th c. dolls, porcelain dolls, BJDs, art dolls, haunted dolls--I love seeing and learning about all kinds of dolls, as I never know what might spark a new avenue of research or collecting (I have many of these other kinds of dolls in my collection, they just haven't made it onto the blog yet). So don't let the predominance of fashion dolls in my photos deter you from introducing yourself.
The only hard and fast exception to this is those hyper-realistic baby dolls. Keep those cursed things away from me.
I do a lot of reblogs, not sure if you're ok with that....
I am 100% here for your reblogs :) Not only does it give me a better idea of your personality and aesthetic tastes, it also gives me a chance to see content from other blogs I don't already follow (but may as a result of your sharing!). Reblogs have always been one of the best ways to build community on this site...and tbh if you look at my main blog I am the reblog queen, I'd be kind of a hypocrite for throwing shade on someone else for doing it ;p
I do mostly DIYs...
Here for that too! As a needlework enthusiast who is a mediocre seamstress and reasonably skilled at crochet I frequently dabble in making doll clothing and am always open to learning new crafting skills and techniques, including but not limited to various aspects of doll customization.
Ok I think that's it for now XD Things are still a bit hectic for me offline, but I will continue to catch up with your comments and messages as I can. New doll posts may be slow in the next few days, but once I get my display situation sorted (I need to box up some books to go into storage to clear shelf space) things should pick up a bit.
[Pictured above: ICY Blythe clone dressed in mostly Fashion Fever pieces; Cry Babies BFF Jassy & Phoebe from IMC Toys]
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odinsblog · 3 days
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David Remnick: I think it's possible to imagine that if a presidential candidate 15 years ago had gotten these felony convictions, that person would be out. How do you, as a Democrat, respond to that?
Raphael Warnock: Well, I think that the country has long been in a kind of a spiritual crisis, certainly exacerbated by the reality of Trumpism in the world, and it's something I think about, first of all, just as a pastor and as a citizen. But I still have a great deal of confidence in the American people, because the reality is he only wins by subtraction. That is his only shot, which is why I'm focused on making sure that every eligible American has a chance to exercise their franchise and to know that their vote will count.
This election is not about who he is, it's about who we are as an American people.
Senator, one of the factors that figures into what may or may not happen in November is for Black voters under 50, and this is according to research by Pew, 29%, 29% is leaning to Trump. That's a heck of a lot. It's a huge jump from voters 50 and over. Why do you think this is happening?
Warnock: I pay attention to polls. I'm not obsessed by them. I think there's a long time between now and November. I will hazard this hunch: 29% of voters, Black voters, are not gonna vote for Donald Trump.
So you're just saying the polls are the polls. You're just saying the polls are out of their collective minds.
Warnock: It's not gonna happen. […] And I stand by my assertion, and not as a pundit, but as somebody who knows a little bit about the Black community. 29% of Black folk are not going to vote for Donald Trump.
29% under 50. Okay, yeah.
Warnock: Under 50, or under any age.
Right now, there's a big movement of people in this country who say they want to live in a Christian nation with laws instituting Christian principles. By the way, the vast majority of especially people who describe themselves as evangelicals are pro-Trump. What do you make of that?
The enormous number of people of earnest faith who look at someone who lies the way he does, who's now been convicted of multiple felonies, how do you analyze that?
Warnock: Well, there were a number of Christians, a whole lot of Christians, who were pro-slavery. And there were a whole lot of Christians who were pro-segregation. There's a recurring line by Martin Luther King, Jr. in his letter from the Birmingham jail. He says it a few times in his speeches. He says, “I am so disappointed in the American church.” I'm paraphrasing here.
I can't channel the eloquence of Dr. King. But he said, “As I travel through the south and I see its massive churches with its massive religious education buildings and its spires pointing heavenward, I ask myself, what kind of people worship there? Who really is their God?”
That's the question for this moment. Who really is their God? Particularly when we've been told by a lot of folks on the far right for years that their focus is family values.
When we've raised issues that people like me think are also central to the gospel, like how you treat the poor, they have narrowed the religious discussion to matters of private morality, one's conduct around issues of human sexuality, marriage and the like. And those same people now are lined up behind Donald Trump, a man who has had several marriages, who found himself caught up in the crosshairs of his decision to have an affair with a porn star. And these same folks who have raised these issues around family values and private morality are the ones who are speaking as if he is the Messiah of God.
I think the question that Dr. King asked all those years ago is especially relevant in this moment. Who really is their God?
—Senator Raphael Warnock
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the20thcenturykid · 1 year
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Huh, I just realised I've passed my oral native language final high school exam (matura) by talking about gender fluidity and how sticking to completely binary form is outdated. All that during time I didn't know much about LGBTQ+ community, not knowing I'm aro/ace and of "I don't care" gender and I based my reasoning on the hard sci-fi book (what was actually topic of my exam "how author portraits their time period in their piece" and yes I explained quite nicely why I used sci-fi book as "author's present time") where gender and sex is just the way you portrait yourself since most of people are practically digitalised and you choose your physical avatar you live in and some people have more than one so... You can look however you like basically, so for that manner new pronoun is used for them as basic one.
And I didn't knew this book were quite interesting piece of gender ambiguous umbrella in my country for some time.
You know, in my language (Polish) we use pronounces even in first person talk usually by changing last part of some words for feminine -am and masculine -em (I'm not going to explain it better, I'm ass in grammar) and there's no real alternative aside from pronoun for 'it', which in my language could mean child or object so... Also plural pronouns are gendered to.
There are some initiatives to use 'it' form or create new pronouns for gender ambiguous community but it's tough case since it's basically making quite big change in whole language where our society is still way behind many countries and while portrayed from outside as way more homophobic than it is in case of transphobia... Well, let's say trans people don't have easy and gender ambiguous are usually just treated as 'tomboys' or 'femboys'. (Yes, it's changing and is way better in bigger cities but we are in middle ages still). So pronouns are being created and... While it's individual thing for every person which to use, for me most of them don't seem natural to the language (like -ix one because letter 'x' is basically not existent in polish language and some even change it to '(i)ks' when writing english word in polish sentence) and here I came back to my exam because pronouns that I found the most fitting were... From that book I used as base to my oral essay (created on spot mind you, I had like 15min to prepare after I've got a theme). The thing is they seems interestingly natural and work very well with our grammar. They're based on -um pronoun and next to -om one seems the most fitting to the language itself. They even named after author's surname so it's 'dukatyw' or 'dukaizm'. Of course, I didn't knew that those 7 years ago.
I'm not here trying to push any agenda or great statement - I just found it funny than my 19-yr old ass completely outside of LGBTQ+ community when heard theme was "let's make 15+min lecture about gender and sex fluidity" based on book I've readed like a year earlier which burned my brain and twisted it to the other side and I decided to love it.
The book is "Perfekcyjna Niedoskonałość" (Perfect Imperfection) by Jacek Dukaj and was never translated to any other language and honestly I think it's almost impossible to do so to English without loosing most of it's "flavour". That pronouns thing is just a part of writing and shown universe, tho while subject on ones identity and purpose is main theme of it, the gender is just it - the part.
Time fluctuations, tech bending time and space and some social and interspecies tensions are quite big part of it too but that's other story.
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caimitos · 23 days
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saw a post about projecting your ethnicity onto a character and started missing vespa ilkay. so so bad
#pov u grow up in a 3rd world country(/planet) where healthcare workers are exported by the thousands like cheap produce to richer countries#it's your ticket out of poverty as long as you can deal with the loneliness the separation from everyone you know the discrimination etc#ive never talked about my hc that vespas mother was one of them sending money every month visiting every couple of years until it just stop#like why return to the swamps when youre doing fine working on a richer planet w much better living conditions#cost of living rises every year. sending home a % of your salary used to be enough to support your husband and daughter and then it isnt#you know how it goes#vespa is also dead set on this path until ranga realizes that hemorrhaging healthcare workers leaves them with little to none of their own#students on scholarships or in community/state universities are bound by return service agreements and are forbidden to leave the country#until theyve rendered a few years of work on ranga to pay back their tuition + as a really shitty solution to the brain drain problem#this is real in my country btw but my professors say a lot of ppl do break their rsa's and fucked off to work in other countries LOL#our state unis can barely afford decent facilities they do nottt have the budget to chase down their own alumni in other countries!#but the mental image is a bit funny#vespa ilkays first crime: tinakasan ang rsa#i do also think it lines up with her having a network of med friends everywhere in the galaxy (heart of it all) you kind of go into pre/med#expecting most of your classmates to leave to work in other countries eventually. mine are aiming for the usa / uae / europe / japan etc#anyway whether vespa breaks her rsa or not she leaves ranga asap decides to switch careers and the rest is history#i also deeply love the fact that she's superstitious i'm very sad it wasn't highlighted more (i've only heard s1-3)#as someone who did grow up in a rural area and went to more albularyos/folk healers than doctors in my childhood. (they never failed me)#lots of folk illnesses (ex. balis; pasma) local medical superstitions (dont eat noodles in hospital; youll have a really toxic shift) etcc#theres also a lot of potential in tying her past as a rangian + med student + assassin to me idk how to word this properly#being raised on cautionary tales of not to touch/disturb anything in the swamps then being given free reign to poke & prod at things in her#lab classes (now with the proper ppe)....she was having so much fun with the curemother prime too lmao#years of walking hanging bridges docks boathouses in ranga etc gave her great balance & stealth#cracking open alien shellfish in the swamps to cutting open bodies for studying then for assassination....#I MISS HER SO MUCH BALIK KN SAKEN 😭😭😭😭😭😭#i get why most people + the canon focuses on her being an assassin bc people find that cooler i guess#but vespa being a swamp girl > 3rd world med student > assassin is so personal To Me. the whole pipeline. eugh.#skl.txt
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yardsards · 4 months
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living alone is all fun and games til you have a medical emergency and there's no one there to help you to the hospital
#eliot posts#im fine now it's just last week's Incident fucked me up a lil#a couple online friends offered to call me an uber#and i maybe could have woken my neighbors up (though i would have felt awful abt that)#but while i was figuring out how to get to the hospital and if i'd be able to like#verbally communicate to whoever was driving where to take me#and explain to the doctors what was wrong with me#and fill out the entrance paperwork#and find my wallet/insurance card and my housekeys before i left#...i had gone unconscious before i could make the decision to find someone to take me#luckily i was mostly fine after i woke up#i knew it wasn't an ''i'm gonna die if i don't go to the hospital'' type medical emergency so i didn't call an ambulance#bc i was not abt to bankrupt myself unless i was Literally Dying#but yeah. eugh. 0/10 do not recommend.#at the VERY LEAST i'm gonna need to have good friends that live very close in the future#i don't want this kind of thing happening to me again#i am gonna be roommates with a very good friend in a few months after i move to the city#and then i'm probably gonna be roommates with a different very good friend in a couple years when i leave the state#both mostly out of financial necessity for us all#but also i thiiink i want to go back to living alone eventually?#unless living with friends goes so great that it changes my mind#it's just like. for the most part i've loved living alone#not just in a ''yay i'm no longer living with my abusers!'' way but like. in general.#i can do whatever the fuck i want in my apartment without having to talk to anyone#chores get done when i want. food gets cooked and eaten when i want. i can take a 2 hour bath no problem. i don't have to close doors.#i can walk around late at night without having to worry about waking anyone up.#when my social battery is drained i know that no one will try to talk to me. when im overstimulated i don't have to tell anyone to be quiet#it's like. the thing with me is every social interaction has a timer where i start thinking#''GOD i cannot fucking wait to go be alone in my nice empty apartment again''#that timer is much longer for some people and situations than others but it is always There even when i'm having a great time
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semercury · 7 months
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i miss things.
#stuff sarah says#i think i mostly miss the tight knit community with close friends#writing is a very lonely hobby and it was nice having a hype crew#i went back to look at memes i made for old longfics. i miss doing that.#i still share wips with some people and love adore and appreciate the feedback i get#but idk. the energy was different back then. but i think my energy in general is different now#everyone including myself is out here fighting for their lives#no time to make and laugh at memes about niche fics#idk. i feel like this makes me sound ungrateful. i'm not#i just miss the tiny writer club i had with a certain group of friends#feels bad bc i'm basically the one who set it on fire on account of me being insane#idk. i'm tired. i feel gross. i cried in my car bc my food was missing half the order or at least what i was used to#so if that tells you what kind of mental state i'm in rn...#and on top of it i'm trying to write a heavy scene#like hi you almost died but can we talk about the drunk phone calls? please stop telling me how much you want to die#i love you and i don't want you to die. i already had someone die in my arms a few years ago i can't handle that again thanks#cool. love you. no smooches yet. let's get our daughter and get the fuck out of here i'm tired#edit: and another thing. i miss just interacting with fics in general. mine and others#but alas i'm terrified#if i go on ao3 and am happy something is Going To Get Me#there's fucking ooze there and i'm tired of it! i want to use my fic site again!!!!!!!#i miss it!!!!!! i miss getting so hyped over other people's writing and feeling like i can say that!!!!!!!!!#i don't feel like i'm allowed to anymore and it sucks!!!!!!!!!#i don't want to read and not be hype. but just going on ao3 takes so much energy and effort and reading is so so hard these days#that i know i won't have enough energy for a proper comment so like. why should i enjoy what someone made if i can't even share that#joy with them?#and i know that's so so so stupid bc i think very few people would ever expect that of others?#like i know at least for me i'd rather have someone read and not interact than not read at all#not that it looks like i think like that bc i haven't replied to anyone in forever#but that's bc i go to and then i get the shakes bc i'm nuts and there's ooze!!!!! i'm tired of the ooze!
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pirataeship · 1 year
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I love QSMP I love trying to understand Spanish to the best of my ability and watching others have fun even with language barriers I love the mash of communities
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m0e-ru · 1 year
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wooga booga
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luckydxy · 2 years
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🌻
new ask game send me a 🌻 and ill just tell you whatever the fuck i want ;; accepting
I used to breed shrimp !! Neocaridina !! I like to call them jelly bean shrimp because they come in so many colors. I mostly had cherries in a ten gallon, but I had a five gallon with a small amount of blue velvets. I didn't breed to sell but I'd love to consider it one day when I'm back on my own & secure.
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noxtivagus · 2 years
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hell yeah im done w school for the week <3
#🌙.rambles#i love getting lost n just focusing on some assignment like that#aaaa now my thoughts r wandering again now that i'm done tho ;;#the past few weeks have been kinda shitty but i'm gna do better now#yh i started this school year feeling tired so that didn't really go well#i'll rest well this weekend n do better from now on#i can always choose to do better.#little steps! i'll just do what i can in a given moment#i'm just try n communicate more tho bcs that's where most distance comes from#i still have this urge to hide tho hhhh n i have regrets but#i need to look onwards to tmrrw n see what more i can do#if i'm happier than i was before then that's enough. that's enough for me#yes even if it hurts n aches i'll just accept what i can do at a certain time!#if i'm not kind n patient w myself then where else cld i find that?#i'm gna build that strength from the inside again#honestly haven't been feeling like myself lately#slowly. once more. i'll find myself again#i just need to be patient and kind to myself!#i need to stop isolating n distancing myself from others tho whenever i feel sad n tired ;;#im sorry i still care for you all but >< i dont want to force myself to be better if im not#so i try to feel the pain i guess? ive had ppl invalidate my emotions before so one thing im trying to actively do is#not deny my emotions. im not gna invalidate myself. its hard for me honestly but im trying#n it gets too tiring some days to get the energy to reach out#im trying tho! i want to be better everyday n i think that's enough#i'm only human; it's alright for be to be in pain right? i'm not perfect.#i'm just as imperfect as everyone else but i'm proud of my mindset of wanting to be self-aware of the good and bad and improve.#n still thinking of others! i do need to accept that its hard to manage all the love n care n depth of emotions n thoughts i have at times#n. i make mistakes but i'm still a kind person at heart#i say that but i can't exactly believe it completely just yet;;#i'll remind myself that the pain is valid. we all deserve better. it's alright for me to not be perfect.
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cryolyst · 1 year
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~
#hi :) long time no incredibly long winded and overly detailed oversharing in the tags post <3#and what better way to welcome new followers from the aita comment (hi new ppl. i havent had nonbots follow me in so long)#thinkin abt that post that's like#'which person that you would never like romantically in your life would people ship you with if your life was a show'#in reference to my own life ofc. and besides the obvious answers of 1.) people will ship anything together so literally everyone#and 2.) my close friends that i jokingly flirt with or just have more life partner-y plans with (eg. being potential roommates)#i think of H. who i did in fact at one point have romantic inclinations towards. but has now gone in a weird direction of kinda resentment#and it's just kind of messy to think about for me. i think a big portion of it is the fact that the time i had romantic feelings for them#was right in the time where they were insistent they were exclusively attracted to men only and i was very much not male aligned then#so i forced myself to stamp out all those feelings because we were incompatible in that sense. and then a few years later#they came out as attracted to ppl regardless of gender and i figured out that on occasion my gender is in fact masc lmao#but by then i had moved on and they started growing into a different person#and our relationship and way we interacted evolved too and now im here. in this place where they honestly sort of piss me off#it pisses me off how they will simultaneously justify their other relationships that they seem so discontent with with phrases like#'oh but the other person is just going through a lot right now. they're just busy. i'm honestly just exaggerating. i care about them a lot'#and also complain nonstop about those same people they claim to be so understanding about#and constantly tell me how their needs aren't being met. and then shut me down when i tell them to like... communicate those needs#and i keep thinking. is there a world where i managed to hold my seemingly unconditional love for them from those past years.#is there a world where i didn't grow tired of them. where i stayed patient. where i became the person they could lean on without complaint.#is there a world where the idea of ever actually being in a more involved place with them doesn't make me bone deep exhausted#nevermind a long term monogamous romantic relationship. the idea of spending a night together sounds so draining#and it's just. wild to think about how we got here. that once upon a time i wanted to spend every waking moment talking to this person#we texted each other nonstop. i thought that everything they said was so wonderful. that i didn't and couldn't have enough of them.#and now... trying to get them to respond to me feels like pulling teeth. making plans together is a nightmare.#and when they talk... it's either incredibly surface level feeling quips or a mutual disagreement or straight up one sided talking#i guess a part of it is the fact that we've both focused our efforts elsewhere. that we aren't nurturing this friendship like we once were.#but i wished it was because we built a solid enough foundation for us to keep coming back to each other#instead it feels like they've just assumed that i will always be there. because i haven't given them any reason to believe otherwise.#so it's fine if they ignore my requests to be less negative or more responsive or to give two shits about my health and comfort#or remember what my schedule looks like or any details of my recent ongoings or any promise they've made to me over the years
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gaspshichat · 3 months
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extremely long pearl appreciation post except this time i'm maintagging bc i want her to see this. she deserves to see this
she is the kindest soul ever. every bit message, every sub message, every gifted sub, and as many chat messages as possible are read. she genuinely doesn't want anyone to be left out
pearl had a rough start to stream today with a bunch of bots saying really weird things and someone revealing private information of hers which is weird. i have choice words for them but i'll keep myself pg for this post
it resulted in her having to turn on sub only mode which she said upset her. what did chat do?
they gifted probably around 200-500 subs to the community
pearl kept saying how bad she felt that she was practically forced into turning on sub only mode but she also said she didn't want her community gifting so many subs bc of an awful situation. they still did
i will always say that pearl is the nicest person ever. anytime smth bad happens to someone in chat, she's sympathetic and kind and gives them a message. anytime smth good happens to someone in chat, she's very excited and happy for them
it takes someone who is genuinely kind and selfless to do that. pearl does not have to read every bit message and sub message. but she does
her community reflects this kindness. i got broken up with two hours before valentine's day and told chat [bc streams for me are 6am-10am]. chat was so kind and gave me ideas on what to do with the flowers [which i did what they suggested!]
i've been in fandom communities for almost ten years now. pearl's is the kindest. there are so many people in chat i recognize [secret agent, sapphicwhimsy, kawaiitron, voxkeys, cardmoney, etc] that i look forward to seeing in chat. usually i dread seeing what happens in twitch chat's
not hers. hers are so full of kindness bc she is full of kindness and it just radiates and spreads to her community. yes it's fairly no nonsense, her deleting any weird messages, but that's to make sure it's a good place to be
i've been having nightmares and flashbacks recently due to reasons i wish to keep private. very few youtubers/streamers are able to help me sleep without those issues. pearl is one of them. her community is genuinely safe
i tell everyone interested in mcyt to watch pearl. i've been spreading pearl propaganda [/silly]. she deserves so much more than she has. pearl deserves the world
this is an extremely long post but i need to get my point across to her and anyone else, whether they're a pearl fan or not [yet]
pearl, we all love you and are proud to be part of the community. you are such a genuinely sweet person who deserves all the kindness in the world. i'm so sorry you had to deal with that bullshit [pardon my language]. it does genuinely suck but i hope the ~300 subs helped make you feel better hehe 🫶🫶
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hier--soir · 10 months
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a lover's pinch | one
joel miller x f!reader
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pairing: professor!joel miller x f!reader rating: explicit, 18+ minors dni summary: a one-night stand with a charming texan turns into something much more thrilling when you discover he is your new college professor. warnings/tags: au, age gap [20 something years diff], alcohol consumption, irrational sexual tension, smut, sex in a public place w/ a stranger [and i'm talking depraved/zero time wasted/known you for thirty minutes type strangers], oral [f receiving], protected piv, rough sex, dirty talk, a spot of degradation + misogynistic language, a split second of soft!joel, you get the picture word count: 5.9k series masterlist | main masterlist a/n: my friends.... oh boy, oh boy. this series is a complete au, self-indulgent, fantasy land idea that has plagued me for weeks. horny academic brain rot to the highest degree. hope some of you enjoy it with me x
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Friday.
You sit with three almost strangers.
Listen to them talk about their summers and their families and their degrees as you twirl a straw around your half-empty glass, disrupting the melting ice as you try to wrap your head around what a master’s in environmental engineering might entail. One of them, the only man at the table, takes great pleasure in explaining it to you all for the second time. You take mental notes and hope he’s not expecting you to remember words like sparging and leachate.
They do ask you about your undergrad, and your internship, nodding and smiling curiously. They don’t ask what type of job you plan on getting after your postgrad, which is a welcome relief. The bombardment of questions from immediate and extended family is enough.
Cousins wondering aloud, saying you study Greek mythology, right?
Or your grandfather, before he died, berating you ad nauseam at family events about what’re you gonna do, kid? Be a historian? There’s no money in being a historian. Now, being a lawyer, that’s where the money is.
And you’d respond no, not quite Greek mythology, and no, I don’t plan on being a historian, as you gorge yourself on red wine and triscuits and wait for Christmas to end.
Thankfully you aren’t expected to rehash these scenarios with your almost strangers, who routinely ask a few well-mannered questions and then go back to talking about themselves.
After a week of living with them, in a new house, and a new city, you’re becoming used to their company. The way the four of you commune lazily in the kitchen most mornings, swathed in the light streaming through a window above the sink, making idle small talk as you wait for coffee to brew. How Pete and Trin study opposite each other at the dining table, while Nora prefers to spread her limbs across the couch, laptop balanced precariously on her stomach. She’s doing her master’s in education, which she describes as an expensive way to get a pay rise. She’s kind, with wild curly hair and dark humour, and is easily your favourite of your new roommates.
It was her idea to go out that night. One last hurrah, she’d called it. Before we enter the final circle of academic hell next week. And between four overworked, already burnt-out, twenty-something students, it hadn’t taken much convincing before you were sharing three bottles of wine and hightailing it to the bar with the highest Yelp rating.
The late August air is dry; a faint warmth that follows you into a quaint bar in downtown Biddeford. The space is small and crowded with patrons, with dim overhead lighting that casts a soft glow across the booth you’re crammed into. A thin sheen of sweat coats your skin, and your shirt sticks to your back uncomfortably. The others seem unbothered by the heat, nursing sweaty glasses and discussing how different Maine is from where they all grew up. You involve yourself here and there, offering up stories about your family and friends from back home, and suddenly an hour has passed, and then another, and you’re pleasantly tipsy, body humming as alcohol spreads its way through your veins, and your latest drink is practically empty, spare a few melting ice cubes.
“I need another drink,” you tell Nora, who nods absently before turning her attention back to the others.
You wander toward the bar, fumbling for your phone as you go. Fall in between two leather cushioned stools and rest your elbows atop the sleek wooden counter. Check your bank account and mentally traverse the list of reasons for returning to student-life when you see the number staring back at you. I don’t want to be a lawyer, I don’t want to be a lawyer, I don’t want to be a lawyer, your internal monologue runs, although you could admit how sweet a solicitor’s pay check would feel right now.
It’s a low, Southern drawl that pulls you from your reverie.
“Mind if I sit here?”
Deep. With a rough, lilting quality that piques your interest and has your eyes drifting upward from your phone screen.
You notice his body first; a tall frame with thick arms, thick shoulders, thick neck. A navy-blue t-shirt that stretches thin around his biceps, hugging the tan skin there. And then you look higher, and—oh.
Your heart stutters a beat out of time as you take in his face. Loose brown curls that are just long enough to hang across his forehead. Dark, almond-shaped brown eyes. So dark they almost appear black on the first glance. The strong nose and dark hair across his jaw, dappled with streaks of grey. A moustache resting atop a set of dark pink lips. Gone are thoughts of academia, of bank accounts, of your almost strangers. All replaced in an instant by wanton, pulsating desire.
Something like surprise cuts across his face, but it disappears just as quickly. In a far recess of your brain, you register that he must be at least twenty years older than you. You wilfully ignore the thought, perfectly content to continue admiring him.
A dark eyebrow ticks upward then, and you realise you haven’t responded.
“No,” you rush, flashing him a quick smile. “All yours.”
He gives you a pleased nod, a hint of a smirk passing over his lips as he sits down. He looks vaguely uncomfortable perched on the tall chair, all six-foot-something of him cramped onto such a small cushion. You cast a single glance back towards the booth, and then slip onto the stool beside him.
Silence descends between you for a moment. A song by The Eagles plays faintly, but you can’t figure which one - too distracted to make out the lyrics. You take a careful sip of the melted ice at the bottom of your glass, taste the last remnants of tequila in it, and watch him out of the corner of your eye.
“’m Joel,” that accent rings again, sending a volt of warmth through your chest.
You tell him your name, fingers fiddling with the hem of your skirt. If he notices the tension in your posture, he doesn’t let on. “You a Southern man, Joel?” The name feels warm on your tongue. Soft and silken like honey.
“S’it that obvious?” he grins crookedly, pink lips tearing back to reveal a straight white smile.
“An accent like that is hard to ignore,” you smirk. “It’s not a bad thing.”
‘Thought it would fade a little since I moved here,” he explains. “Y'can take the man outta Texas, but… you know.”
You hum, eyes alight as you watch him speak. His mouth is beautiful, lips parting around prolonged vowels.
“You here alone?” he asks.
“No,” you say. “With friends.”
“Let me guess,” Joel tilts his body, glancing around the bar. His shirt shifts with the movement, hem raising to reveal the slightest hint of a soft, tanned stomach. He points somewhere over your shoulder. You shut your mouth, careful not to gawp. “Them.”
You turn, a soft laugh of surprise bubbling up through your chest when you spy the bachelorette party set up across the bar. Women dressed in gaudy shades of pink. One of them with a sash—reading Jenny’s Big Day—across her chest, a short veil pinned to her head, and an empty champagne glass clutched in her fist. One of them teary-eyed, gripping the bride’s arm and yelling something in her ear, sloshing champagne onto herself all the while.
“You got me,” you turn back to him with a grin. Hold your hands up in mock surrender. “I wouldn’t be caught dead missing Jennifer’s last night as a free woman.”
The corners of his eyes crease, entire face blossoming into a smile now. He has a dimple on his right cheek.
“Knew you were a good girl,” he nods. Says the words in a matter-of-fact tone. Something twists in your stomach, and your palms dampen. You wet your lips quickly and don’t back down from his gaze, allowing the corner of your mouth to kick up a little.
“And you?”
His eyebrows raise in a silent question.
“Who’re you here with?” you clarify.
“Just you, darlin’,” he says, left eye dropping in a quick wink.
It's easy with him, you find, and the two of you sit there for a while; exchanging small talk about Maine, the hot weather, the music at the bar, slipping in flirtatious comments that are about as subtle as a neon sign, until he finally spies the empty glass in your hand.
“What are you drinkin’?” he asks.  
“I’ll have whatever you’re having,” you say, hoping it doesn’t come across too eager. He seems pleased though. There’s something provocative to his gaze, a teasing warmth that raises the temperature of your skin wherever he looks. But whatever it is, it’s gone by the time he reaches across the bar for the bound beverage list.
He peers at the menu, squinting ever-so-slightly to see through the dim lighting of the bar. The skin beside his eyes is soft and creased with age, crow’s feet that hint at years of laughter and smiles. You wonder again how old he is. How much older than you.
“Forget your glasses?” you tease, testing the waters.
Joel’s eyes flash up to yours. The muscle in his jaw ticks.
“Watch it,” he says. There’s a playful note in his voice, but it rings deeper somehow—a hint of a warning.   
Your thighs squeeze together on the stool, warm sweaty skin peeling off the tacky leather as you move. His eyes dart to the bare skin of your legs, and then back to the menu.
He orders you both a whiskey, and a moment later the bartender is sliding a crystal tumbler in front of you. A finger of amber liquid with a single grandiose sphere of ice resting in it. Fancy.
“Cheers,” he holds his glass out. You knock yours against it gently before taking a short sip, fighting a grimace as it burns down your throat.
He watches your face closely, tries to gage your reaction. You take another sip, holding strong in your efforts to show him that you can handle it. Whatever he wants to give to you, you can handle.
“So what brings you here?” he asks. You notice how large the glass feels in your palm, and how small it appears in his. Long, thick fingers wrap around the object, dwarfing it. He takes a sip, and you watch him swallow. His Adam’s apple bobs, and you want to graze your teeth across it.
“To the bar or to Maine?”
“Either.”
“Well, I just moved into town last week, from the West Coast. It’s actually my first week back in the US; I was travelling before the big move.”
“Busy girl,” his tongue clicks against the roof of his mouth. You blink. “Travellin’?”
“I was in Greece,” you explain, sip your whiskey and definitely don’t grimace at the harsh taste. “For a month or so.”
“A month in Greece?” His eyebrows raise and he does a low, impressed whistle that has your stare zeroing in on his mouth.
“Ever been?” you ask faintly.
“No,” his reply is swift. “Never had much interest.”
And you’re nodding absentmindedly, but you can’t seem to drag your stare away from his mouth as he speaks. The trance is only broken when he raises his glass for another sip, and you shake yourself out of it, eyes shifting to stare into his brown orbs once more. They’re darker than you remembered, gaze loaded as he looks back at you. The tension was palpable when you first sat together, but now it feels impossible to ignore; an electric tangle of wire between the two of you that just keeps getting shorter and shorter. And you think, fuck it, if you’re about to descend into the final circle of academic hell, why not have a little fun?
“Can I tell you something, Joel?”
You say it softly, make your voice as sultry as possible. He watches you over the rim of his glass, eyes sparkling with intrigue. And then his mouth tilts into a sort of knowing smirk, and he’s nodding.
“I’d really like to kiss you,” you confess.
He hums, smirk broadening.
Sets his glass down on the bar top with a soft clink, and then lowers his hand to the bare skin of your knee. You gasp at the contact, nerves fraught. The callouses on his fingers scrape against your skin in slow, rhythmic circles, goosebumps raising in their wake. His fingers are long, and as he tenses them over you, squeezing your knee once, you see the way deep blue veins flex beneath the skin, hot blood pumping through him. Your stomach turns molten.
“Is that all?” he asks, a taunting lilt to his voice.
Your mouth is dry, eyes wide as you sense the proposition in his words. The hint of something darker—something greedy—in his gaze.
“No,” you say definitively. “That’s not all.”
A sharp tut escapes his mouth, fingertips dragging higher on your leg as he shakes his head. “Do you have any idea how old I am?”
“Don’t look a day over forty,” you hazard a guess, resting your shoe onto the rung of his stool, using the leverage to drag yours closer. Both your legs are between his now, thighs bracketing thighs. The denim of his jeans scrapes against your outer thighs, and you shiver. His hand pauses, fingertips just shy of the hem of your skirt.
Joel wets his lips. “Guess again, sweetheart.”
A low heat licks at the base of your spine, spreading its way through your veins until you feel like you could combust at any given moment. Fuck it.
“Don’t care,” you mutter, and drape your hand over his. You trace your nails over his skin, feel how the bones shift underneath it, how warm he is. He still doesn’t move, face pensive as he regards you. You arch an eyebrow. “You approached me, you know.”
His lips purse tightly. Another squeeze to your thigh, fingers moving again. “I know.”
Driven by boldness, by arcane desire, by animalistic instinct, you lean forward on your barstool and rest your hands atop the thick expanse of his thighs. Hear his breath kick as your nose traces the side of his square jaw, lips settling at the shell of his ear. Right at the soft, sloping crest of his neck. And you whisper those same words again, quiet enough that no one in the world can hear it but him, can I tell you something? 
Your movement drove his hand higher on your thigh, the heavy weight of it now settled beneath your skirt, fingertips skimming the indent where your leg meets your hip, toying at the soft fabric of your underwear there. Painfully close to where you want him.
“Yes,” his deep voice rumbles.
Ever so slowly, your tongue slides out of your mouth to trail against his earlobe. Joel’s thighs tense beneath your palms, and you roll the balls of your thumbs against the muscles there.
“I want to kiss you,” you murmur. “So I’m going to. And then I want you to fuck me, just like I know you want to.” Your teeth graze his lobe, and you bite it once, gently, before rearing your face back to peer at him. “Hmm?”
The muscle in his jaw jumps, shifting beneath the skin, and instead of responding verbally he cups your face with a rough hand. Cool drops of condensation from the glass have stuck to his fingers, and the liquid smears across your skin as he cradles your jaw and draws your mouth to his.
Soft lips envelop yours, the coarse hairs of his moustache tickling your face as he steals the breath from your lungs. And when you lick into his mouth you can taste peppermint on his teeth, and then that oh so familiar whiskey tang across his tongue. You don’t mind the taste so much when it’s on his lips.
You nuzzle closer, dig your fingertips firmer into his thighs and grin when a deep groan falls from his mouth into yours. Wet heat pools between your thighs, liquid fire that stokes at your insides, begging for more more more of him. And, as if he can read your mind, Joel is dragging his mouth away, teeth grazing against your swollen bottom lip as he departs.
“Bathroom,” he says, voice low and commanding. “Now.”
Shock and excitement lace your blood, the proposition of something so dirty, so lewd, making your heart race. With your pulse a dull, thrashing roar in your ears, you allow Joel to help you down from your stool. Your legs feel unsteady now that you’re back on solid ground. Gripping your hand, dwarfing it in his, Joel tugs you away from the bar top and towards an obscured hallway. You amble past the bachelorette party, down the dark hall and then he’s pressing a dark hand against the ambulant bathroom door and dragging you inside, sliding the lock shut behind you.
Joel’s on you in a second, arms bracketing you against the door as his wet mouth slips over yours. His hands are so big, all wide palms and long fingers splaying across the entirety of your back, tucking you against his solid chest. He bunches your shirt in his hand, twisting the material between his fingers as he pushes into your mouth. Tongue hot and wet, gliding against your teeth, your tongue, tasting you, devouring you. there’s nothing polite about it. No more wariness, no more hesitation, no more eyes that could see the two of you at the bar. He’s insatiable, touching you everywhere he possibly can, and even then it doesn’t seem like enough for him.
“Fuck, I want you,” you say against his mouth. He makes a low sound in response, and one of his palms lower to grab a handful of your ass, dragging your hips against his. You can feel him, hot and hard, straining in the confines of his jeans. Your hand presses into the crevice between your bodies to palm him through the material, grinning into the kiss when he groans. His lips trail a slick path across your cheek, past your jaw.
“Gonna let me fuck you here?” his hot breath fans across your neck, tongue darting out to taste the salty sweat there.
“Yeah,” you say. “Fuck—yes.”
He steps back, dragging you with him, and then he’s turning you around so that you’re facing the mirror. Your hips dig into the sink, and he’s holding you there, forcing you to stare at your reflection as he bites and licks and sucks down your neck with reckless abandon, leaving marks in his wake. There’s a low, steady throbbing at the apex of your thighs, and you can feel how your underwear clings to your skin, damp and ruined. You whimper, tilt your chin up to give him access to more skin. He grinds against your ass in response, and then he’s crouching down on the ground behind you.
Fast hands push your skirt up over your hips and then flare across your ass, massaging the flesh there. You feel a nip of teeth against the sensitive skin there and flinch into the porcelain. He makes quick work of dragging your underwear down to dangle precariously at your knees. And then long fingers are spreading you apart, revealing you to him. You tilt your hips back so he can see more. Moan at the sensation of cool air rushing to meet your dripping core.
You think you can hear him speaking, but can’t be sure over the sound of your heartbeat in your ears and the low music playing in the bar. And then it doesn’t matter anymore, because you can feel his hot tongue glide through your folds, parting you like the sea. He buries his face in you, nose nudging against your asshole as his tongue swipes at your clit, moaning roughly as he absorbs the taste of you. You’re gasping, hooded eyes staring back at you in the mirror, and this time you can definitely hear him saying you’re so fuckin’ wet. The flat of his tongue smears from your clit to your entrance, and then he’s sinking it inside you. You reach behind your back and card your fingers through his hair, gripping the salt and pepper curls between your fingers and holding him against you. Joel doesn’t complain, groaning as you tug on his locks in encouragement, in fucking desperation.
Your thighs tremble where they bracket his head, threatening to squeeze around him at any moment if it weren’t for his vice grip keeping your spread apart. A choked sob of a moan claws its way out of your throat and then he’s standing again, chest against your back as you hear the clink of his belt coming undone, and he’s saying, I know, I know, you need it so bad, don’t you?
Your hand skirts around the firm sink and slips between your thighs, fingertips ghosting over your throbbing clit. The sound of foil crinkling echoes around the room, and you hear him exhale a ragged sigh as he rolls the condom down his length. You peek over your shoulder to catch a glimpse of him, eyes widening as you take in the sheer size of his length. It’s long, with a prominent vein running from base to tip. It pulses, raging beneath the skin, practically daring you to drop down and run your tongue along the length of it. And you would if you thought he’d let you.
“Shit,” you breathe, skin tingling with a fresh wave of nerves and anticipation.
“It’s alright,” his voice is a low rasp, filling your ears like molasses, and his hand is rising to push stray hairs out of your face. “So fuckin’ wet f’me, I know you can take it, honey. You gonna show me how good you take co—”
He cuts himself off, eyes narrowing as he spots your fingers shifting between your thighs.
“So impatient,” he smacks your hand away with a grunt. “Silly little slut, can’t wait just a minute for me?”
A broken moan falls from your lips, shameful heat soaring through your chest. You shouldn’t love the way that word sounds falling from his lips, shouldn’t be so turned on by it, but you can feel how the ache in your core intensifies, and so you push your hips back against him.
“’m sorry,” you whine pitifully.
“You want it that bad?” Joel asks. His lips brush your earlobe as he nudges the thick head of his cock between your folds, gliding it through your slick once, twice, before notching himself at your entrance.
“I want it,” you gasp. “Wanted it from the second I saw you, Joel, please, pleas—”
Joel curses under his breath and loops a hand around your front, pushing the neckline of your shirt down to reveal your left breast. He slips his palm underneath the cup of your bra, long fingers pinching at the peaked bud of your nipple. Your skin burns under the attention, and you push your chest further into his hold.
“Shit,” he grunts, beginning to press himself inside. “I wanna fuckin’—wreck you, sweetheart.” 
“Whatever you want,” you’re pleading, arching your back for him. Your fingers tighten around porcelain, bracing yourself. “Give it to me.”
You hear a muted, dark chuckle before Joel says, “Whatever I want, huh?”
And then he’s pressing inside you with a single, harsh thrust. His thighs come flush with yours and you gasp, face twisting at the sharp sting. The weight of him inside you is heavy, and you squirm at the intrusion, shifting on your feet. He allows you a moment—just a moment—to adjust to him, before he’s moving.
Joel finds a pace he likes and sets it. Heavy, unrelenting, expert rolls of his hips that have his tip brushing against the opening of your cervix with every shift forward. The air fills with harsh sounds of skin smacking against skin, and stilted moans and spilling from your lips as your hipbones collide rhythmically with the sink.
“Christ,” he spits, hand leaving your breast to grip your jaw. He forces your face forward, pace never slowing. “Fuckin’ look at you.”
You do as your told, gazing at yourself in the mirror. And you look wrecked. Hair a wild halo around your head, makeup smudged around your eyes and mouth, lips swollen and shiny with spit.
“Bein’ so—fuckin’—good,” he punctuates the words with his thrusts. His thumb digs into your cheek, and you can see him grinning in the mirror, lips peeled back to reveal that fucking perfect smile. “Dirty little thing, lettin’ a stranger fuck you like this.”
You mewl in response, stomach tensing as his cock grazes a particularly sensitive spot within you. Joel notices and seizes your waist, one hand holding you in place and the other falling to rub your clit while he pistons into you from behind.
“Shit,” you cry, eyes pinching shut as the intense medley of pleasure and pain begins to overwhelm you. Your orgasm claws its way up your chest.
“Yeah, you like that, huh?” he’s panting. “Can you feel you squeezin’ me, sweetheart. Go on, give it t’me, show me how wet that pretty pussy gets when you come.”
“Oh, fuck, oh—oh god, Joel.”
Your lungs feel empty, chest on fire as you rake in rapid breaths. Your entire body is constricting, muscles in your stomach drawn tight as you press firmer against the sink, thighs shaking with every impact of his hips against the plush of your ass. The pressure makes your head spin. And then something in the base of your spine snaps, and you’re falling apart in his grasp. Joel curses behind you, but the sound is faint, almost inaudible over the ringing in your ears. Your vision goes white, body shifting forward as he fucks you through the high.
And even as you begin to come down, muscles going lax and body slumping against the sink, Joel is relentless. He uses you; gripping your hips to keep them tilted at the perfect angle, and just fucking wrecks you, exactly like he said he wanted to. A stream of profanities fill the air as his movements become disjointed, and you know he’s close. Can feel the way his cock twitches inside you, desperate for release. You tilt your face to the side and stare at him over your shoulder. Those dark eyes meet yours and his face crumbles, hand reaching to grip your shoulder and hold you down as he nears the precipice. You rut your ass back against him and he almost shouts.
“Fuck,” he growls. “That’s it, that’s it..”
And then he’s coming, cock jerking inside you in sporadic movements, and you’re wishing he hadn’t worn a condom so you could feel the heat of him spread inside your cunt. It’s intense, the yearning you feel to have him dripping out of you once he’s gone. But you settle for watching his face through bleary eyes, admiring the way his lips part and chin tilts towards the ceiling, eyes pinching closed as his body convulses against you. 
For an all too brief moment, Joel doesn’t move. He slumps against your back, forehead resting in the gap between your shoulder blades, and just breathes. Haggard, drawn out exhales that send whisps of your hair flying forward into your face but you don’t care, too blissed out and relaxed underneath his weight to say anything. And then he’s straightening, and you gasp in unison as he grips your waist and slips out of you. There’s a determined ache between your thighs, pussy clenching around his absence, missing the weight of him already.
You sag onto the cold surface. Your mind is a blur, senses dulled from the intensity of your orgasm. The music in the bar has increased, and you imagine that your roommates must be wondering where you are, but can’t bring yourself to care all that much. You can hear him throw the condom into the trash, then there’s a low rustling as he drags his boxers and jeans back up his legs. Body trembling, you close your eyes and wait. Wait to hear the door open and close as he steps out, and leaves you in the bathroom alone, as you know he inevitably will.
But instead, you feel those hands, almost familiar now, grazing your back. They drag your panties back up and smooth your rumpled skirt down over your ass.
“Hey,” a soothing voice murmurs. “You good?”
You peer at him over your shoulder, uncontained surprise no doubt evident in your face. Joel’s expression is soft; cautious. He grips your shoulder and pulls you up, straightening your body. Drags a thumb over the corner of your mouth, wiping away the lipstick smudged there. His touches are so gentle, so tender, in comparison to a few moments ago. It almost gives you whiplash, and yet you find yourself melting under his gaze, because fuck, he’s handsome. 
“I’m good,” you breathe, and he bares his teeth in a smile, cupping your jaw.
“Sweet girl,” Joel says. His head shakes once, slowly, eyes darting across your features, as if trying to memorise them. “I’m gonna remember this.”
You heart is in your throat all over again.
Your fingers fumble to adjust your top, smoothing it out as you smile, humming, “Yeah… yeah, I think I will too.”
A heady silence swells between you. His thumb brushes along your lower lip again, eyes watching the way your swollen mouth yields to his touch. The tip of your tongue slides out and glides over the tip of his digit, just for a second.
“Probably got your friends all worried,” Joel says then, hand dropping to his side. “Must be wonderin’ where you got to.”
You swallow down the disappointment you feel. It burns its way down your throat and into your stomach, not unlike the whiskey had. I don’t care, you want to say. Take me home with you. But you nod and agree. Glance in the mirror and rake numb fingers through bird’s nest hair, trying to tame your wild appearance. You swear you feel his hand graze the hem of your skirt one last time, playing with the soft material while he stares at you in the mirror.
The bubble pops as he unlocks the door, outside sounds rushing in through the gap, infiltrating the space that once smelt like sex and lust and now just feels like any other room. Joel doesn’t kiss you again. Doesn’t touch you. He steps into the hall, and you follow him out. And when he trails toward one side of the bar, with a final lingering glance at you over his shoulder, you begrudgingly head in the opposite direction to the booth, where your almost strangers await you with curious eyes and pinched brows.
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Tuesday.
You feel hungover on the day of your first lecture.
A dull ache blossoms behind your left eye, a persistent reminder of how little sleep you had the night before. Your fingers wrap tightly around a tall styrofoam cup, and you take slow mouthfuls of the black coffee inside, attempting to savour the liquid gold, and letting the caffeine act as a saving grace for as long as possible.
You were normally so much better than this, too. Years had passed since your undergrad, and in the past you’d prided yourself on being punctual and prepared. But apparently one of the professors for this semester had it out for you, because when the required weekly prep work for your 9 o’clock Tuesday morning lecture was released the day prior, you were stunned to find that it included an entire fucking book.
After spending a dutiful two hours going over the weekly notes and required journal articles, you’d found yourself glaring at three sentences, written casually at the bottom of the professor’s notes.
Also, read Hesiod’s ‘Theogony’. It will do you well to have these ideas and themes fresh as you undertake the first weeks of this class. See you tomorrow.
Cue you staying up until two am reading fucking Theogony, and walking to your first lecture with a near-permanent yawn sprawled across your face.  
As you approach history commons, a guy wearing a bottle green shirt that reads UNIVERSITY OF NEW ENGLAND in garish gold lettering shakes a pamphlet in your direction. It has a picture of a girl in a tiny athletic uniform on the front, preparing to spike a volleyball. You avoid eye contact and sidestep him quickly, continuing into the building.
The theatre room is easy enough to find.
Thirty odd chairs line the space on an incline, all facing toward a desk at the front of the room. A projector hangs from the ceiling, displaying the beginning of a slide show on a white wall. The slide is a muted beige colour, with stark black lettering that spells out: The Language and Literature of the Odyssey and the Aeneid.
Your professor stands with his back to the room, shuffling through a myriad of notebooks and loose-leaf pages splayed across the desk. Standard.
You traipse your way up the stairs, buoyed along by the steady stream of other students shuffling into the room, and take a seat a few rows from the front. Not too far back that you seem disinterested, and not so close that your professor will notice you falling asleep on the first day.
You open your notes on your laptop and then slump back into your chair, slurping down the final morsels of coffee in your cup before discarding it to the floor by your feet. And then the room quietens as a final group of students file in, heavy door swinging closed behind them, and you allow your eyes to rest upon the man at the foot of the space.
He’s tall. It’s impossible not to notice that first. Tall and broad. A thin white dress shirt stretches across the arch of his back, fighting to pull free from where it’s tucked neatly into the waist of his brown pants. From where you’re seated, you can see a dark head of hair shaking side to side every few moments, the man muttering inaudibly as he peers down at his notes.
You glance down at your laptop again. Watch your cursor blink against the white screen. And then you hear it.
“Alright folks,” an all too familiar voice drawls. “Let’s get down to it.”
You stiffen in your chair. The hairs on the back of your neck stand on end, palms going damp as a memory flits through your brain. One of your own voice.
An accent like that is hard to ignore.
You can’t make out what he’s saying anymore, every word overpowered by the sudden roar of your own heartbeat in your ears.
Slowly—so fucking slowly—you peel your eyes away from your laptop and glance upward.
And there he is, in all his glory. Pearly white smile. Strong jaw. Dark eyes.
Joel… your professor.
Fuck.  
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thank you for reading!! x
4K notes · View notes
makoodles · 10 months
Text
ミtìohakx
[tI.o."hak’] P F n. hunger
🍓 pairing: tsu'tey x human fem reader
🍓 tags: nsfw, tsu'tey pov, misunderstandings, vaginal sex, oral sex (f receiving), reader has nipple piercings, size kink, human x na'vi sex
🍓 wordcount: 18k
masterlist
it's been far too long since i wrote for my grumpy boy, so here were go! tsu'tey is really horny in this one guys lmao i'm sorry
reblogs are always enormously appreciated!
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There is something wrong with Tsu’tey.
Like, seriously wrong.
This isn’t necessarily a new sentiment to him; he’s been wondering if there’s something fundamentally broken in him for some time now, as if Sylwanin’s death had damaged him more than he could even tell. In the long and painful years following her death, he never so much as glanced at another woman with passing interest. In fact, he had convinced himself that he was no longer capable of experiencing anything even close to romantic or sexual feelings with anyone other than his first love.
Even when he was betrothed to Neytiri, his feelings never developed past fond friendship. Their mating would have been a duty, albeit one he was content enough to perform if it meant that he could serve the clan and maybe, finally, put some of that awful, bone-deep loneliness behind him. But while he loved Neytiri dearly, he could never drum up any real physical attraction beyond the aesthetic appreciation of knowing that she was a beautiful woman.
And that was fine. Tsu’tey never really had a problem with that. He had mostly resigned himself to never experiencing that kind of love again, even if the thought left him hollow on the inside. He’s always been proud to be the kind of man that throws all he has into all into his community and friendships and duties, but he can’t help but wish things were different. It feels a little as though he’s standing stagnant while everyone around him moves on.
The Omaticaya rebuild when the Sky People leave; families are built, bonds are made, and the People move forward. Everyone but Tsu’tey, it feels.
Tsu’tey, instead, finds himself tragically, humiliatingly preoccupied with matters that would surely never have even occurred to him before the war with the Sky People. Well, only one matter, really.
Instead of doing what is expected of him by finding a mate and settling down, like most other men his age in the clan, Tsu’tey finds himself distracted in a way that is completely unbecoming. He goes through his usual motions of hunting, weaving, carving, training, and yet he feels distant from it all, as though his thoughts and attention are elsewhere.
When he’s not carrying out his duties, he’s mortifyingly distracted by just one of the little sky demons that lingers around the village. You.
It would have been unthinkable for him only a few years ago. Even now, Tsu’tey can’t help but wonder if some essential part of him is broken. It’s the only way he can think to explain why you have captured his attention so completely.
There’s nothing special about you. Tsu’tey’s not completely delusional; he can recognise that you’re just a regular Sky Person, nothing impressive. You can’t hunt, you are bad at weaving, and you look odd. You are so tiny and weak, nothing like the willowy and strong women of his clan.
And yet, all of your odd differences are what end up endearing you to him. Tsu’tey has always felt compelled to protect, to serve his clan and defend his people. You’re small and soft, with your strange little face and pretty eyes, and you have no way of defending yourself. Perhaps that was how his fascination with you had started, but it’s since grown into a tentative… friendship, almost.
You visit the village almost every day, to help out where you can or to accompany Norm or even sometimes (and Tsu’tey sometimes has to centre himself to make sure he’s not reading too much into your alien behaviour) just to spend time with him.
“Hey, big guy,” You call out, like you always do, sashaying your way across the village towards him.
Tsu’tey doesn’t look up from where he’s sitting outside his hut, carving a small wooden bowl. It takes quite a bit of effort to look unaffected and casual, especially when his tail had begun to curve around his legs from the moment he had picked up on your sweet scent on the breeze.
“Demon.” He greets back. He chances a quick glance up at you from beneath his eyelashes, hoping you don’t notice.
Then he does a double take, his head snapping up to look at you again as he completely forgets to feign disinterest.
Tsu’tey is used to having you around the village, and he’s used to stifling his embarrassing attraction towards you as best he can. What he’s not used to is the sight of you wearing such tiny little shorts, or such a tight top. The alien fabric is stretched tight across your breasts and so thin that he can see the subtle shape of your nipples beneath the taut fabric.
His stomach does an odd sort of flip, leaving him dizzy.
It's not that he’s shocked by your body – you are still entirely covered (and he tries to quash the disappointment that niggles in the back of his head), and he has seen many female bodies before.
But this is you, and he has never seen so much of you before. The sky demons are confusingly modest and oddly ashamed about their bodies, which means that Tsu’tey has simply had to tackle his odd embarrassing attraction to you with nothing more than his imagination. To see you now like this feels like a physical blow.
Tsu’tey inhales so sharply that he nearly chokes on his own breath. “Tawtute, what—?”
“You said we could go swimming in the river today.” You say, raising the weird little hairy ridges on your brows.
Ah, he thinks, a little dazed. He had said that. It had been a moment of madness, on his part. He had been trying to come up with an excuse to invite you to spend more time with him, and the added incentive of getting to show off some of his skills to you had made him over-eager and excited.
“Mn.” He grunts, his eyes glancing down over the length of your legs, your soft squishy skin all exposed by your tiny shorts. They’re hitched high on your hips, which draws his eyes to your waist and then up again to your breasts, where your top clings to the soft round shape of them.
His eyes follow your hips as you cock them to the side, your hands landing on the curve of your waist. Damn. He… he should really be familiar with the shape of you, by now. You’ve been a near constant presence in the village since the moment you had made the decision to stay behind on Pandora to live in the shoddy human outpost in the nearby forest.
He knows what you look like. But he’s never really seen you in clothes this tight and small before. It’s stupid. Really stupid. He can’t really explain why the sight of your squishy little thighs in those shorts has turned his thoughts into a pathetic buzzing mush of white noise.
You tilt your head, obviously waiting for him to say something. Your eyes are all shiny, looking at him with an expectant smile.
“Yes.” Tsu’tey swallows thickly, forcing himself to his feet. “You wish to swim.”
The thought is a little thrilling. Perhaps he will even be able to catch a few fish in front of you as well. Showing off physical prowess is just one way of impressing a potential mate, and while it’s not initially what he had intended with the offer, the idea of putting on a mating display for you makes excited heat simmer low in his belly.
“Well, you offered.” You remind him, biting at your lower lip under your mask. Your mouth looks all glossy and wet, more so than usual; he wants to touch your lips more than anything.
“Yes. I offered.” He nods, looking down at you as you stand in front of him.
Ah, the height difference is going to his head a little – your face is just level with his belly button, your head tilted all the way back so that you can gaze up at him. His cock twitches at the sight.
“Come.” Tsu’tey says, trying to shake off his distraction before he embarrasses himself.
Just like always, you happily follow after him as he leads the way away out of the village towards the forest. He glances over his shoulder a couple of times, just to make sure that you’re still there.
“I was thinking that after swimming, we could go for a walk,” You say, your little legs working overtime in an attempt to keep up with him. “I’ve been craving that fruit you let me try last time. You know, the one that looks like a blue balloon, but is pink on the inside and really sweet?”
He slows down so that you can keep pace with him more easily, his eyes drawn down to you as you walk. You don’t seem to be wearing your strange little chest covering that usually covers your breasts under your other top, which means that your soft breasts are bouncing lightly with every step you take. Tsu’tey nearly trips over his own feet when he notices, because now it’s like he can’t keep his eyes off you.
The Sky People are demons, a plague on his planet and his people. But you are so bright and sweet, always excited to see him and spend time with him. And your soft body is so different to the Na’vi women he’s used to – you have so much give to you, squishy and bouncy where Na’vi women are firm and lean, especially in places like your thighs and breasts and little tummy. Tsu’tey has never struggled with his self-discipline as much as he does around you.
“Kllpxiwll.” He says, his voice coming out a little less strong than he’d like. “Yes. We can walk later.”
You beam at him, making his tail lash around his ankles. Your cheeks squish up when you smile like that, and his fingers itch with the desire to squeeze at your face.
“Great!” You say brightly, before reaching out to take his hand in yours.
This time, Tsu’tey really does trip. He manages to regain his balance quickly enough that there’s a chance you didn’t notice, but then he looks down at you with wide eyes. Your hand is so small, your little slender fingers curling around his much larger palm, and Tsu’tey swears his heart skips over a beat at the feeling.
Ah, you need his hand for the balance – you hold tight to him as he helps you step over logs and through the long glowing grass between the huge trees. You use your grip on him both as leverage to climb over some of the obstacles before you and to make sure that Tsu’tey keeps his pace slow that you can keep up.
You even glance up at him, your expression uncertain and a little vulnerable, as though you’re unsure how he’s going to react to your touch. He can understand why; he’s never been shy about letting his distaste for your kind known.
 But you’re different. He wonders if you know it – you must know, right? It must be obvious to you, how he looks at you with starry, moronic eyes.
He looks away, struggling to keep his expression cool and neutral. He lets you hold his hand but doesn’t squeeze back, nervous about how tiny your hand is in his and how he might hurt you without even meaning to.
After a moment or two you withdraw your hand, biting at your lip as a small frown tugs at your brow.
When the two of you reach the river, Tsu’tey turns to you and waits. He feels as though he’s holding his breath, watching and waiting as his stomach turns flips. He feels antsy and itchy, his fingers twitching as he forces his face to remain as still as possible.
You raise your eyebrows, tilting your head as your mouth twitches in amusement. “Is there a reason you’re glaring at me like that, babe?”
Tsu’tey frowns reflexively; you’re always calling him strange little nicknames that he doesn’t understand, and he’s yet to decide whether he likes them or not. He decides to focus on the other part of your sentence.
“I am not glaring.” He protests, though he doesn’t relax his face. This expression mostly comes naturally to him, and he doesn’t really want you to see him open and mushy anyway. “I am—I am looking.”
“Okay,” You drawl, drawing the word out. “Looking at me?”
“No. Get in the water.” He says, and it accidentally comes out sounding like an order.
He’s lucky you’re used to his brash manner and blunt attitude, because you just roll your eyes at him instead of taking offence. That’s part of the reason he finds you so lovely, always so sweet and bright even when he makes a mess of communicating with you. His tail coils, so relieved that he hasn’t messed this up yet with you.
When your small hands reach for the button on your tiny shorts, Tsu’tey can’t help but stare. You push the strange rough blue material down over your thighs, and he takes a steadying breath through his nose as you push them down to your ankles.
It’s the first time he’s seen you so exposed, so vulnerable – so… human. Your body is perfect. Beautiful. Soft and curvier than a Na’vi woman, so much smaller than him. He feels a little guilty about the way he’s looking at you so lecherously, but he can’t seem to stop.
He feels his mouth go dry, but he can't bring himself to look away. He's never seen you like this, and he'd never forgive himself if he missed this opportunity just to look.
You step out of your shorts, left in just that thin white top and tiny bottoms that he has heard you call ‘panties’ before. They are small, more revealing than the loincloths worn by his people, so thin and dainty. They cling to you, and Tsu’tey swears he feels his thoughts dissolve into pure nothingness at the realisation that he can practically see the outline of your—
“You’re coming too, right?”
Tsu’tey blinks, a little dazed. When he speaks, his voices comes out a little too sharp yet again. “What?”
You’re looking at him, your eyebrows raised and scrunched a little as you stare at him. You’re confused, he realises, and it takes a moment to realise that it must look as though he’s been glaring at you yet again.
It’s just... That... is a lot of skin. It feels illicit in a way that he’s not used to, because he doesn’t normally see this much of you. It feels like human modesty is now rotting his brain if this is how he’s reacting to just the sight of your bare legs.
“You good?” You ask, and you sound a little uncertain now. “You look… you look kinda angry.”
Tsu’tey manages a grunt, but he doesn’t trust himself to actually speak. His tongue feels too big for his mouth, and he’s sure his words will just come out clumsy and thick. He glances away from you before picking at the ties of his battle band around his waist, drawing it away from him and settling it aside in the phosphorescent moss. He feels naked without it, though he doesn’t remove his tewng.
“I am not angry.” He says at last, pleased with how steady he sounds.
You just hum, and step away from him towards the water. He watches you go, his gaze trailing over all your soft flesh. This cannot be normal. Human women are not supposed to be this attractive, and Na'vi men are certainly not meant to be attracted to them.
And yet... he can't resist sneaking glances at you whenever the opportunity presents itself. Your bare skin, your soft body, your bouncing breasts, your lips... you’re driving him mad. His twitching cock beneath his loincloth means that there is no chance of pretending he doesn’t know how attracted he is to you.
You step into the water, letting out a breathy noise of surprise at the temperature. “Oh, it’s cold!”
He watches you walk ahead of him into the river, his eyes are drawn to your hips, then your waist, then... he feels his face grow hot. Get a grip, Tsutey. You're being ridiculous.
But... oh Eywa...
Tsu’tey just breathes. He closes his eyes for a moment, just to collect himself. He’s being an idiot. He’s better than this; he is a warrior, a hunter, he has been trained for leadership and has fought alongside Toruk Makto. There is no good reason for a human woman to bring him to his damn knees like this.
You wade in a little deeper, until the running river water gurgles around your thighs. Then a little further, until the current is rippling around the bare skin of your waist. Then you keep going, until you’re submerged up to your neck, and you’re making a scrunched up little face as you hiss through your teeth.
“Shit! How can the water be this cold when it’s so hot out!” You complain again, your nose all wrinkled.
Oh.. you’re just adorable. Tsu’tey feels his fingers twitching again, wanting so badly to touch and squeeze and pinch.
You glance back over at him, and give him an odd little look. “Hey, are you coming? I didn’t come here just to swim by myself!”
Tsu’tey stumbles slightly as he makes his way to the edge of the water. Fuck, he’s just a mess of warring emotions right now. All he seems to be able to do is stare at you with hot, hungry eyes.
He glances away again, unable to keep looking at you any longer. He takes a deep breath and dives into the water, keeping his body straight as an arrow as he spears through the water and surfaces only a few feet from you.
The water is cold, but he finds it refreshing. It shocks some awareness back into him, makes him feel a little more normal and less stunned.
You squeal with laughter as his dive splashes you, throwing your head back as you bob in the water nearby. You paddle a little closer to him, swimming a little deeper until you’re treading water next to him.
“It is cold.” He breathes. It’s the only thing he can think of to say that’s even mildly intelligent, yet it sounds like it falls entirely flat.
But you just giggle as though he’s told a wonderful, highly intelligent joke. His ears twitch, relishing the sound of your laughter.
Tsu'tey swallows thickly, his eyes drawn down to your chest. Your thin white top has turned translucent, and clings to the soft shape of your breasts. Through the thin wet fabric, he can see the prominent shape of your nipples.
“I’ve been looking forward to this swim all day,” You’re saying, blissfully unaware Tsu’tey going through his crisis right at your side. “It’s been hot – honestly, the cold water is a bit of a relief, right?”
“Mngh.” Tsu’tey makes an odd grunting noise, before inhaling sharply and tearing his gaze away from you.
He dips down, allowing the river water to engulf him as it rushes over his head. He half-heartedly hopes he drowns, too, but that thought only lasts a moment before he resurfaces and takes a deep, grounding breath.
He can do this. It’s fine. He enjoys spending time with you, especially when he gets to steal you away from the village and the outpost and gets to enjoy your company away from all the curious eyes of the clan. He likes the feeling of having you all to himself.
He swims with you for a while, enjoying the feeling of the water current running over his skin and stealing looks at you as often as he can without you noticing.
You’re so small and soft, and you look pretty in the glow of the sunlight filtering through the trees that shelter the river. He swallows thickly. It feels like he’s witnessing something he never imagined he’d be allowed to see. Your hips. Your waist. Your soft thighs. Your… everything. Fuck, he wants you.
Eventually, you tire, and paddle your way back to the riverbank. Tsu’tey follows as if he’s been magnetised, orbiting nearby you as you clamber your way back onto the sand. Then you lay out on the bank in the sun to dry off, and Tsu’tey feels his pulse throbs hot and heavy in his throat.
He climbs out after you, his tail swinging low as his eyes trail over your figure. Your wet clothes cling to you, the soft fabric of your panties sticking to your hips and your translucent white top revealing almost everything to him.
He settles next to you, unable to look away from the way your nipples are firm and stiff where they're pressing against the thin top. Then his brow furrows, and he cocks his head.
“Tawtute…” He murmurs before he can think better of it, laying on his side as he looks down at you. “I.. may I ask you a… question?”
“Mhm. Of course.” You say without opening your eyes, enjoying the gentle heat of the sun warming your skin.
Tsu’tey swallows, wonders very briefly if he should keep his thoughts to himself, but his curiosity burns at him. He knows very little about Sky People, and he’s never truly felt any real impulse to learn more. But you’re laying next to him right now, and he finds himself very intrigued indeed about your body and possible… physical differences between you.
“It—Sky People bodies are different to ours,” He says. He attempts to keep his voice steady and as confident as possible, and possibly overcompensates by simply scowling. “It looks—it looks as though you have more nipples than we do. Why is that?”
Your eyes fly open, wide and startled beneath the clear material of your mask, and you stare up at him for a long moment of bewilderment. “I—excuse me?”
Tsu'tey flounders for a moment, thrown off by your tone, heat rushing to his face. "It looks as though—”
You glance down at yourself as he gestures clumsily at your chest, barely covered in your translucent white human fabric. Your expression clears as realisation hits, and then you bite your lip as though you’re trying not to laugh.
“Oh.” You breathe, placing your hand over your breasts. “No, sweetheart. They’re just—they’re just pierced.”
Tsu’tey stares at you uncomprehendingly. “Pierced?”
You nod, and Tsu’tey blinks. The revelation takes him by surprise, though he’s still not entirely certain what you mean by it. Human women pierce their nipples? To him, your breasts are already the most beautiful thing in the world. Why would you want to poke holes through them? What is the thought process behind that?
"Why?" he finally asks, his tone bewildered. "What is the purpose?"
“It’s not.. it’s not that there’s a purpose..” You trail off.
In the ensuing silence you stare at him, as though begging him to understand what you mean, before apparently realising that he isn’t going to. You bite your lip, then glance around as though checking that you’re still alone with him.
“I guess… well, nudity’s not a big deal for Na’vi, right?” You murmur, your fingers fidgeting with the hem of your top. “Is it alright if I take this off?”
Nudity certainly isn’t a big deal to his people, not in the way it is for any of the tawtute. The Na’vi are comfortable in their bodies, and so the strange modesty of the Sky People is completely foreign to him. He has seen female breasts every day of his life, the chest coverings worn by the women of his people designed to decorate rather than conceal, and yet he has never in his life been filled with such an all-consuming desire to see a pair of tits before.
“Yes.” He says immediately, keeping his face as cool and unreadable as possible in an attempt at hiding his sheer desperation. “It is no ‘big deal’.”
You hesitate another moment, looking shy and a little embarrassed as you fidget with the hem of your top.
His focus is fully on you now, all his senses trained firmly on the sight of you. The desire to see what lies beneath that flimsy garment is becoming overwhelming.
Let me see, He thinks to himself. Just let me see, and maybe I'll finally be satisfied.
Finally, finally, you tug your top up and off. Tsu’tey inhales so deeply and sharply he nearly chokes on it. His eyes are drawn to your bare chest, transfixed. Your breasts are soft and squishy, perfectly shaped. And for the first time, he sees the small silver bars nestled into your nipples, which are firmed up after the cold of the water. They glitter in the sunlight, capturing his attention and holding it in a vice.
Oh, no, He thinks desperately, feeling a pang of desire deep in his loins. Far from satisfy him, the sight has only made him hunger for more. He wants to touch, especially the odd metal that glitters at your breasts.
“See?” You ask, as if he could have ever missed the sight before him. “My piercings.”
“Mmm.” Tsu’tey manages to get out. His voice is deeper than he had intended, and a little stiff. “I see them.”
You smile, as though you’re waiting for a reaction, but Tsu’tey is a little struck dumb. He watches the light of the sun shining on your wet skin, the way your breasts gently swell and fall with each exhalation of your breath, the subtle gleam of the silver of your piercings. The longer he goes without reacting, the more your expectant smile begins to fade.
“What are they for?” He manages to swallow thickly as he asks.
The question makes you laugh, which isn’t a reaction he had intended but is certainly a sound that he always cherishes.
“They’re not really for anything,” You murmur, reaching up to touch your own breast. “They’re just meant to look good, I guess.”
 Tsu’tey’s tail lashes restlessly, and he wants so badly to replace your hand with his much larger one; he knows you would look so small beneath his palms. He glances swiftly at your face, and wonders if you would be upset if he touches the little silver bars that decorate your tits.
“This is… this is what is considered attractive to Sky People?” He asks. It comes out in a croak; too much of his energy is being diverted to trying to keep his hands still and to himself.
Your smile begins to fade again, your brow creasing. “Um… sometimes, I guess. You don’t.. uh, you don’t think so?”
That is a loaded question. How is he supposed to answer that when you’re laying on the riverbank beside him with only a thin, wet scrap of fabric covering your most intimate parts? He already feels as though most of the blood in his body had redirected downwards; his cock is pulsing, enough so that he can’t actually think anymore.
All he can do is grunt like a damn talioang. Your face falls further.
“I guess they must seem kinda strange.” You murmur. You must be growing self-conscious, because you start to cover your chest with your arms.
The sight of you trying to cover that perfect view from him sends a bolt of panic through him, and he just stops short of tearing your hands away again.
“You do not have to cover,” He says quickly, before he can think about it. “Like you said, it—nudity means little to us. I do not care.”
“Right.” You say, your voice gone a little bland. “It means nothing to you.”
Tsu’tey knows that your attitude has changed, fallen a little flat. But you’re laying right there, soft and small and squishy, displaying more of your bare flesh than he has ever seen from you, and he can’t pull his thoughts together.
He feels no better than the moronic young warriors that push each other around and whisper nonstop about the women of the clan. He is a skilled warrior, an excellent hunter, and a good provider for the whole clan – he is also experienced with women, so he can’t understand why the sight of you is turning him into a hormonal teenager again.
“Nothing.” He agrees stupidly, still struggling not to be too obvious with his staring.
You purse your lips, but drop your arms all the same. Tsu’tey tries not to goggle.
Oh no, He thinks miserably to himself as he watches the little barbells in your nipples sparkle in the sun. I really am broken.
─── ・ 。゚☆: .☽ . :☆゚
Tsu’tey is quite certain that he’s made a fool of himself in front of you.
He’s never been good at expressing himself or his emotions, and his attraction to you scares him as much as it excites him. He alternates between reticence and putting his foot in his mouth, between being unable to meet your gaze and being unable to look away.
He probably looks deranged. He feels deranged.
To make it worse, he knows that his interest in you is obvious to anyone in the clan that watches him interact with you for even a short time. He feels the eyes on him all the time, watching, often looking vaguely sympathetic, which is somehow worse than the horror he had been expecting.
Mercifully no one has said anything to him just yet. At least, no one of any great importance.
“So, you’re telling me that she was laid out next to you, practically naked, just to show off her pierced tits, and you did nothing?” Jakesully demands, his voice like the constant droning buzz of an irritating insect in Tsu’tey’s ear.
Tsu’tey chews sullenly at some roasted teylu, trying and failing to tune his Olo’eyktan out so that he can enjoy his meal.
“Come on, man, seriously.” Jakesully is nudging him now, like an infernal pest. “She took off all her clothes for you, and you didn’t try to—”
“Ma Jake, there are children here.” Neytiri says primly from Jakesully’s other side. She has also been trying her best to ignore her mate, rocking the baby in her lap, but now she sends him a warning glance. The sting of her glare is dulled due to the fact that she’s visibly trying not to laugh.
“Sleeping babies, they got no idea what I’m talking about.” Jake says dismissively, though he adjusts baby Kiri in his arms and leans into his wife’s side all the same.
Tsu’tey shifts where he’s sitting next to him, and allows his gaze to wander across the gathering. He is still waiting to catch sight of you, to see you approaching from across the campfire.
“I’m just saying, man, you’re so obviously into each other that it’s actually painful to watch—”
Tsu’tey grunts irritably. “I am not discussing this.”
“You like her, and she’s all over you!” Jakesully insists. In his arms, Kiri starts to gurgle, and Jake hurriedly raises her up to his shoulder to rub at her little back.
“She is my friend.” Tsu’tey says stubbornly, focusing on his dinner.
Jakesully scoffs. “I’m your friend, but you don’t see me sitting in your lap or holding your hand or getting naked—”
“We are not friends.” Tsu’tey scoffs.
“Ouch,” Jake drawls, rolling his eyes. “Damn, man. I thought we were close.”
 Tsu’tey grumbles, scowling into the distance. The irritating thing is, he thinks that he and Jake are close. Admittedly, they still have their rocky moments; Jakesully has earned Tsu’tey’s respect, but he is also an infuriating man and Tsu’tey has always been easy to rile. But… despite their frequent bickering, Tsu’tey has come to trust his judgements.
Tsu’tey purses his lips and picks at the remaining teylu in his small carved bowl. “You… think that she may return my feelings?”
Jake groans, holding the baby with one hand as he covers his face with the other. “You’re killing me here.”
On Jake’s other side, baby Neteyam starts to fuss in Neytiri’s arms. She sighs, pressing a kiss to her son’s chubby cheek before beginning to rock him gently. She’s been listening with as much patience as she’s capable of, though the whole conversation has been punctuated with her eyerolls and scornful hisses.
“Why do you not talk with her, Tsu’tey?” Neytiri asks in a tone that suggests she thinks both men are idiots. “Explain how you feel to her.”
Tsu’tey just gives her a look of disbelief. It’s like she doesn’t know him at all. When has he ever talked about his feelings before? He prefers to just feel things intensely and then shove it all down very deep until it inevitably bursts right out of him.
It’s been a long time since he’s felt like this; not since he was a teenager fumbling his way through his feelings with Sylwanin. It’s especially embarrassing to know that it’s a sky demon that’s eliciting this reaction from him, and that his closest friends are witnesses to his humiliation.
“I am going to sit with the other tsamsiyu,” Tsu’tey sniffs, pushing himself up from the log. “Perhaps they will have some more intelligent conversation.”
Neytiri scoffs, sounding more scornful than offended. “I doubt it.”
“Besides,” Jake adds, grinning at him over Kiri’s little downy-haired head. “Here comes your little bestie.”
Tsu’tey nearly breaks his neck with how quickly he turns his head, and surely enough there you are. You’re stepping across the gathering, smiling politely at one of the old women who says something to you as you pass by her.
He hastily sinks back down beside Jake, ignoring his pointed snickers.
The closer you get, the more details Tsu’tey can see. You’re all neat and clean, still wearing those tiny shorts. But you’re wearing a different top now, this one green like the verdant leaves of the trees that tower overhead, and now he can see that you’re wearing your odd little breast covering under your top. It pushes your soft breasts up and together in a way that’s very enticing, although he is admittedly a little disappointed by the way your strange little decorated nipples are hidden beneath the padding.
“Hey, big guy.” You call out, your voice as cheerful and bright as always.
Tsu’tey’s ears twitch towards you eagerly, his nerves lighting up at the sound of your voice.
“Tawtute—” He begins to greet, but immediately chokes as you reach them and promptly climb right into his lap.
Oh fuck. His every muscle tightens, and all of his thoughts are frozen at the feel of your soft body moulding to his – you’re so small and so squishy, your soft body yielding so easily to the hard muscle of his chest.
He goes to grab at your hips as you nestle yourself into the cradle of his thighs, before panicking and grabbing at his own legs instead. He grips at his thighs harshly, his nails digging into his own skin hard enough to almost draw blood.
“Hello.” He manages to get out, sounding thick and a little stupid.
“Hi.” You reply, smiling up at him as though you think his inability to speak is adorable.
“Jesus Christ.” Jake mutters from off to the side.
Tsu’tey bares his teeth at him from over your head, but Jake is too busy sharing suggestive looks with Neytiri to even notice.
You shift, and he nearly swallows his tongue when your soft bottom settles neatly over his crotch. He panics as he feels blood rush south, and he hurriedly grabs at your hips to shift you from his crotch to his thigh, hoping that you hadn't felt his body respond in arousal.
“I—I have something for you,” He blurts, grabbing for the small carved wooden bowl he had set carefully by his side; he’s just been waiting for you to arrive. “I collected kllpxiwll berries for you earlier.”
Your eyes widen beneath your breathing mask, a pretty smile brightening up your face. “Oh, these are my favourite.”
“Yes, I know.” Tsu’tey says. His hands are still resting on your hips, enjoying how delicate you feel perched in his lap, but he feels a thin thread of panic underlying his delight. You’re so fragile, and he’s so terrified that his big rough hands will hurt you accidentally.
As you settle your bottom back onto his leg again with the bowl in your hands, he does what he does best and shoves his feelings deep, deep down. He will not allow himself to be driven mad by his desire for a human, however soft and warm and pretty you may be.
“Wow,” Jake drawls from his side. “That was really kind of you, Tsu’tey.”
"It is nothing." he replies, his voice coming out rough. "You are my friend."
It makes him want to bite his own tongue off to have you like this against him, but he forces a relaxed grin anyway. He can feel that it comes out strained, because inside he feels like he’s losing his mind. Your closeness is intoxicating, and he cannot stop himself from brushing his free hand against your thigh.
But you’ve tensed in his lap, the little bowl held tight in your lap. Under your mask, you’ve started to frown.
“Your friend.” You repeat blandly.
Jake winces at his side, and Tsu’tey suspects that he’s already put his foot in his mouth. But your soft, plump ass is seated so damn close to his cock beneath his tewng that he just can’t think straight.
“Yes.” He says dumbly. “We are friends.”
You purse your lips and look back down at the bowl of kllpxiwll berries, picking at them distractedly. “Right.”
Tsu’tey’s tail curls, uncomfortable with your sudden silence. Are you angry with him? His eyes drop down to the fruit he had gathered for you, his stomach sinking. Is it not to your liking?
“Do you not like the kllpxiwll?” He asks, leaning over your shoulder to try and get a glimpse of your face.
He can vaguely hear Neytiri make a sound of pure derision off to the side, but he’s trying his hardest to block both Jake and Neytiri out.
“It’s nice.” You say, though you don’t sound very enthused.
Tsu’tey frowns, but then you move to get comfortable and your ass nestles itself right over the ridge of his hardened cock and he swears that his vision tunnels and turns entirely dark for a second. He panics, then grabs at your hips out of pure reflex and bodily lifts you off of him.
You yelp, obviously startled, your arms windmilling as Tsu’tey thrusts you at Jake before leaping to his feet. He can see the way Jake is staring at him as though he doesn’t know whether he should laugh or not, and the way that Neytiri looks faintly disbelieving, and the way that you look all ruffled and startled as you look up at him as though waiting for an explanation for why you’ve just been so unceremoniously booted off his lap.
“Sorry, I—” Tsu’tey begins, his throat tight and much too dry as he tries desperately to come up with an excuse that has nothing to do with his dick. “You were too heavy.”
Jake’s face screws up in yet another wince before he buries his face in baby Kiri’s shoulder as though he can’t bear to watch Tsu’tey humiliate himself.
You’re still staring up at him from where he had inadvertently dumped you on the ground, your face the picture of confusion and hurt. “I’m too—what?”
Tsu’tey dithers for a moment, feeling terribly exposed. Why had he stood up? It’s only a matter of time before both you and Jake notice that he’s had a very physical reaction to you sitting perched in his lap. Neytiri has already noticed, though she’s been kind enough to direct her gaze pointedly skywards.
“I will fetch you water.” He blurts, before turning on his heel and positively fleeing.
It’s a coward’s move, leaving you confused on the ground like that, but he feels as though if he doesn’t get away from your smooth skin and pretty smile he’s going to drown.
You’re just a human, he tells himself over and over. You’re not supposed to be that attractive. You’re not supposed to do that to me. That was just me being weak.
Tsu’tey only pauses when he’s on the very edge of the gathering, taking a moment to breathe.
You’ve always been such an affectionate little thing, but his nerves can’t take so much physical contact from you. You have no idea how much restraint he is attempting to exert, how difficult it is not to press his face into your throat and leave his scent behind all over you, or to keep his hands to himself instead of allowing them to wander all over your plush skin.
But he doesn’t want to make a move on you; harbouring these desires for a Sky Person is bad enough, but the possibility of being rejected is even worse. Both because of the humiliation of rejection, and because Tsu’tey doesn’t know what he’ll do if you decide it’s too awkward to be around him anymore. He doesn’t actually know what you want from him. You had laid out almost naked next to him, but you hadn’t made any advances either. He isn’t even sure if you like him or if the Great Mother just has a cruel sense of humour.
Tsu’tey is a little clumsy when he grabs at a waterskin, glancing across the gathering. Even from this distance, he can see the unhappy frown on your face as you speak with Jake, who is visibly trying to appease you. Neytiri has taken both of the babies in her arms, tucking Neteyam into the woven net carrier on her chest so that she can hold Kiri in the crook of her elbow as Jake speaks to you.
Tsu’tey winces a little and glances away again, reluctant to watch the aftermath of his outburst unfold.
A few of the warriors nearby are drinking fermented pasuk liquor, and Tsu’tey wordlessly takes a skin and takes a long gulp of it. His silent drinking earns him a couple of odd looks, but none of them seem willing to comment on it and he’s too busy drinking and trying to ignore the ache in his crotch to explain himself.
“Are you well, Tsu’tey?” One of them finally asks, a little hesitantly.
“Fine.” Tsu’tey says brusquely. His manner does not invite any further questions, and his peers fall obligingly silent. “I am taking this.”
He clutches the skin as he prepares to return to his place at the cookfire beside you, though he pauses to take another drink before he goes anywhere. From this distance, you look a little calmer; you’re listening closely to whatever Jake is saying, nodding with a little frown of concentration.
“Tsu’tey?”
He nearly jumps out of his damn skin. He had been so distracted that he hadn’t noticed the soft-footed approach of Saeyla, who has come up on his other side.
“Saeyla.” He greets, his ears pinning back in apprehension.
Saeyla smiles, but doesn’t blink. The effect is unnerving, and gives the impression of a predator watching him. He takes another deep drink from the skin, hoping that perhaps it will help him come up with some way to salvage his pride.
“You look stressed, karyu.” She notes, taking a careful step closer.
Tsu’tey tenses, his brow drawing into his usual scowl. “I am not your karyu anymore. You have passed your iknimaya.”
Saeyla just nods, still smiling a little. The air between them feels uncomfortable, but Tsu’tey wonders if he’s the only one that notices. He still feels rather awkward about how he had rejected Saeyla so harshly that night she had approached him beneath the Tree of Souls. He does not regret rejecting her, but he does feel as though he could have perhaps done so a little more gently than he had.
But while Saeyla has been avoiding him in the months since, it seems that now she is starting to get over some of the hurt he had inadvertently caused. It is a relief to see that she has decided to take a mature approach.
“I was wondering if you could help me,” She says, tilting her head. “One of the beams in my kelku collapsed, and it is too heavy for me to lift by myself.”
From the other side of the gathering, Tsu’tey can see you get to your feet and a bolt of panic shoots through him. Why are you standing? Where are you going? Are you leaving?
“Uh, yes,” Tsu’tey says distractedly, beginning to step away from Saeyla and back towards where he had left you. “I can help.”
“Later? After the gathering?” Saeyla asks, beginning to follow him.
“Yes, yes, later.” Tsu’tey agrees, waving her off before hurriedly leaving her behind.
Walking through the dinner gathering is like attempting an obstacle course, and Tsu’tey is distracted as he tries to avoid stepping on the tails of the gathered clan. Luckily, many seem to sense his urgency, and they sweep their tails close to their bodies as they watch Tsu’tey hurry back over to where he’d left you with Jake and Neytiri.
“Tawtute,” He says when he reaches you again, his ears pinning back. “Your water.”
You look a little surprised at his abrupt return, though you bite your lip and take the waterskin he’s offering all the same. “Oh.. thank you.”
As you pull your mask up and raise the waterskin to your mouth to take a sip, Tsu’tey spares a glance at Jake and Neytiri. Their expressions are about what he had expected; Jake still looks as though he’s trying not to laugh, while Neytiri looks distinctly pitying. Tsu’tey winces, and quickly looks away again.
You’ve only just taken a sip of the water he’s brought you when you choke on it, coughing and spluttering. “Oh— what the fuck—” You gasp, hurriedly fixing your mask back over your face as you heave for breath.
Tsu’tey’s stomach sinks, glancing at the skin that he had handed to you and then at the second one still in his hand.
“Uh—wrong one.” He grunts, snatching the skin of pasuk liquor back out of your hand before handing you the other one that’s filled with water. “… Sorry.”
You’re staring at him with some disbelief now, your eyes watering a little from the strength of the alcohol beneath your exo-mask. “Have you been drinking?”
“No.” Tsu’tey scowls, then amends, “A little.”
You goggle at him with a look of faint astonishment, before you turn to look at Jake. Tsu’tey shifts, feeling rather unfairly jealous, and scowls when he sees you and Jake share a significant look.
“Right.” You say. You sound a little stiff, but you manage to conjure up a sweet smile all the same. “Well. I’m, uh, I’m going to head back to the outpost.”
“Oh.” Tsu’tey says. He hides his disappointment the best that he can, keeping his face still as his tail curls down by ankles.
“But, maybe you could walk me home?” You continue, your eyelashes batting at him.
For the first time, Tsu’tey realises that you look a little different. Your eyelashes are darker and longer, your skin tone smoothed out and even, your cheekbones a little shiny. Your lips look plumper and glossier too, a little redder than their natural tone.
He blinks at you, distracted and a little flustered by your appearance.
“Yes.” He says moronically, hastily passing off the skin full of liquor to Jake, who looks at it in bewilderment.
That makes you brighten, and you reach for his hand hesitantly as though you think he may pull away from you. Tsu’tey watches the way your small fingers intertwine with his much thicker ones, and feels his pupils expand as his tail coils in excitement.
He’s aware of the glances and whispers he’s getting from the rest of the gathered clan, and the irritating eyebrow wiggles he’s getting from Jake, the wolfish yet encouraging grins he’s getting from the warriors that he had taken the alcohol from, but he’s not focusing on any of it. All of his attention is directed towards you as you lead the way towards the forest.
“You look… nice tonight.” He murmurs, low enough that it’s just you that can hear. It comes out awkward, but he means it genuinely.
You glance up at him, and your face relaxes into a smile. You look so damn sweet, clinging to his hand and beaming at him. His heart is thudding hard enough against his chest that he swears it should be visible from the outside, and his own mouth twitches into a hesitant smile in return.
“Yeah?” You ask, your little white teeth gleaming in the remnants of the firelight as you lead the way towards the forest. “I put on a little makeup to come see you.”
Tsu’tey has no idea what that means, but he likes the idea of you doing something specially for him. He feels rather smug as he follows along after you, taking small steps to try to match your pace.
The two of you have only just reached the treeline when Tsu’tey hears a call of his name, and he pauses and glances over his shoulder to see that it’s Saeyla. She’s jogging after him, her ears pricked high in interest.
“Tsu’tey,” She says with a coy smile. “You are still coming to my kelku later?”
You pause at his side, turning to watch her approach. Tsu’tey feels flustered, though he can’t put his finger on why. Your gaze is intense when it comes to rest on the side of his face, waiting for his response.
“Yes, later.” Tsu’tey agrees, eager to be rid of her.
Saeyla smiles, satisfied, her eyes drifting once to you at his side before she turns and saunters away.
Pleased to be alone with you once more, Tsu’tey turns back to you. He can hardly contain his feelings; his ears keep twitching, his tail is coiling and flicking in anticipation, and he can’t tear his eyes away from you. It’s so far from his usual demeanour that it’s embarrassing, but you don’t seem to notice; you’ve never been very good at picking up on Na’vi body language.
You let go of his hand and start walking again faster than Tsu’tey had been expecting, and he jolts into action to try and catch up with you. Your lips are pursed, all glossy and very appealing, and Tsu’tey almost walks into a low-hanging tree bough as he’s staring at you.
His desire for you is simmering at a low boil in his belly, impossible to ignore. It makes him ungainly, clumsy with his limbs and his words, makes him uncharacteristically stupid.
How is he supposed to pursue this? The ways of Sky People confuse him, though he has tried his best to understand you and your ways of thinking. He doesn’t know the customs of human mating, and he doesn’t want to accidentally harm or offend you. Perhaps he would be better off waiting for you to make an advance, but to even think of you making such a move makes him feel so... vulnerable. It's terrifying.
It takes a few moments to realise that he’s been so lost in his own thoughts that he hasn’t noticed the silence that’s settled between the two of you. He clears his throat and increases his pace so that he’s fallen in stride with you.
“You are quiet, tawtute.” He says carefully, questioningly.
He’s not expecting you to scoff, nor shoot him such a bland, unimpressed stare.
“Are you being serious?” You demand.
Tsu’tey blinks. He’s surprised by your sudden change in mood, and wonders if he should be treading carefully now. These sudden attitude changes are bewildering; is this a human thing?
“Yes,” He says slowly. “I am being serious.”
“Unbelievable.” You mutter, promptly speeding up once more.
You don’t get very far – your legs are comically shorter than his, and it takes very little effort to keep up with you.
The outpost is not far from the village, and even with your short legs the two of you arrive at it in no time. To Tsu’tey’s confusion, you march up to the entrance with hardly a second glance at him.
“Tawtute—?” He begins, stepping after you as you ascend the little steps up to the door.
You whirl, startling him into taking a little step back.
“You’re going to Saeyla’s after this?” You demand.
Tsu’tey stares at you, wondering if you’ve gone mad. Why are you asking him this when you had been present for the conversation?
“Yes.” He says slowly. “She asked me to.”
You purse your lips again. “Saeyla, your old student?”
“Yes.” Tsu’tey repeats, beginning to frown.
“Saeyla, who asked you to mate?”
“There is only one Saeyla in the clan.” Tsu’tey points out, a little confused.
Your nostrils flare, and he realises a moment too late that you do not like that answer at all. He flounders for a moment, trying to find a way to salvage the conversation, but he doesn’t fully understand what you’re irritated about.
“She asked for help,” He says, keeping his voice low. “She wishes for help with her kelku.”
“No doubt.” You say archly, your eyes narrowing. “I guess she’s a friend of yours as well.”
Tsu’tey would not have gone so far as to call Saeyla a friend, but he supposes that she had made an extra effort to approach him to mend some of the awkwardness between them. Tsu’tey had always interpreted their relationship as a mentor-student one, so her abrupt confession the night before the clan had gone to war with the Sky People had taken him entirely by surprise.
“In a way.” He says, unsure how to express all of that.
Your funny little alien face seems to tremble for a moment, settling into an odd expression. Not for the first time, Tsu’tey wishes you had proper ears and a tail so that it would be easier for him to tell what you’re thinking.
“Right.” You say, your voice a little dull. “Well, that’s great.”
But then you turn around and march up to the door of the outpost, and it hisses open to let you in. Tsu’tey perks up, frowning. Are you leaving now? You’ve never left without giving him some kind of little hug or squeeze to his hand, or a promise to see him tomorrow.
“Tawtute—” He begins, but you don’t turn around.
“Goodnight, Tsu’tey.”
“I will see you tomorr—” He begins, but the door slides shut with a firm hiss before he can finish.
─── ・ 。゚☆: .☽ . :☆゚
It takes most of the day before Tsu’tey realises that something is wrong.
Hardly a day has gone by in the last few months that you haven’t shown up at the village to watch him train and cook, or to entice him out swimming or walking or gathering. While it was once met with annoyance on Tsu’tey’s part, he has come to enjoy your company. He looks forward to your arrival now, his whole body primed and eager as he waits for you to come to the village.
But the following day, you’re nowhere to be seen.
You don’t arrive for the morning meal, and you never come to watch him train. He waits around in the afternoon, trying to look busy as he waits for you to come to the village. When you don’t show up, uneasiness begins to creep in.
He waits for dinnertime, but you don’t come to eat with him either.
He eats in silence, frowning broodily into the fire and casting frequent glances towards the forest as he waits to catch a glimpse of you. He has to deal with sympathetic and questioning glances from Jake and Neytiri all evening, which makes his skin itch. They don’t ask questions, which arguably makes it worse.
Tsu’tey doesn’t even make it to the end of the meal before he stands, making the decision to seek you out instead of waiting around.
“Good luck, man.” Jake mutters rather ominously.
Tsu’tey doesn’t bother with a reply, abandoning his half-eaten food as he marches into the forest. He’s irritated to find that he’s worried. You had been in poor humour the night before, and he’s a little bit anxious about why.
It doesn’t seem like a coincidence that your mood and attitude had changed so drastically after the two of you had crossed the human boundary of nudity. Had he gone too far? Had you been uncomfortable? Perhaps you had realised that he was looking at you in a way that decidedly surpassed friendship, and you didn’t like it.
The outpost is a shoddy eyesore of human architecture, and it makes Tsu’tey’s nose wrinkle everytime he sees it. Despite all the time he’s spent with you, he rarely visits the outpost itself, but needs must.
It takes a frustratingly long moment for him to work out the mechanism of the door, and then he has to stand there with his tail whipping around impatiently as the door compresses shut and the atmosphere is forcibly converted to air that’s breathable for humans. When the second door opens up to allow him into the outpost itself, he muscles his way in and takes one of the stupid little masks to loop around his neck so that he can take infrequent sips of air.
The outpost is cluttered with demon technology and strange furniture, and Tsu’tey picks his way around the metal floor with his nose wrinkled. He dislikes the way it feels against his bare feet.
The first person that sees him is Norm, who’s sitting at one of the messy desks with his head in his hands. It’s rare to see him in his human form, his odd dreamwalker body tucked away for the night, but Tsu’tey grunts a greeting out nonetheless.
Norm doesn’t react the way he had expected. He jerks to his feet, eyes widening at the sight of him, and he blurts, “Oh, thank god. You’re here to apologise, right?”
That gives Tsu’tey pause, and he stares at Norm in some bewilderment. “Apologise?”
Norm doesn’t appear to hear him, too busy glancing over his shoulder towards the back of the outpost as he scurries a little closer.
“Man, she’s been upset all day.” Norm keeps his voice low, as though he’s worried you’ll hear. “Just—go in there and talk to her.”
Tsu’tey frowns, but he’s already drifting towards the back of the outpost. The shoddy building is split into several sections; one for working, one for recreation, one for sleeping. There’s probably more, but Tsu’tey has never bothered looking too closely at it. All he knows is that Norm has gestured to the back of the building, towards the sleeping area.
“She is resting?” He asks, keeping his voice low to match Norm’s.
Norm scoffs. “Uh, no, I wish. She got some of that fruit wine you guys drink at celebrations. She’s a little bit… uh…”
Ah. You have been drinking. Tsu’tey feels curiosity bubble up in his chest; he’s never seen you drunk before. In this moment, he wants to see nothing more.
“I will speak with her.” He murmurs, before leaving Norm behind in favour of ducking into the back section of the outpost.
The building is rickety and mostly partitioned with fabric curtains rather than the doors that the Sky People tend to favour. As such, Tsu’tey can hear the way Norm is shooing whatever other demons are left over out of the building, presumably to give him some privacy with you.
He finds you laid out in a bed near the back, floppy-limbed and sloe-eyed as you speak with another sky demon. You’re talking with your hands, clearly feeling very passionate about whatever the subject you’re discussing is.
Tsu’tey lets his eyes wander over you, enjoying the brief moment he has before you realise he’s there. You’re wearing thin white fabric shorts covered in some sort of blue pattern, and a small little top that only reaches your midriff. You look so comfy, so warm and soft in your cosy little bed as you drink Omaticayan fruit wine and complain to your friend. Tsu’tey feels a buzzing start up in his belly and the tips of his fingers; he wants to touch you so badly it hurts.
The other sky demon spots him first, her eyes widening at the sight of him as she leaps off the bed. It takes a beat longer for you to spot him, but then you’re scrambling to your feet as well.
“Tsu’tey—” You start, almost spilling the fruit wine in your hand all over your bed. “What are you—”
“You did not come to the village today.” He says before you can finish, stepping closer to your bed.
The ceilings in the outpost are high to accommodate the bodies of the dreamwalkers, so he towers over you as kneel up on your bed, frowning up at him. He feels his cock twitch; he knows he’s bigger than you, obviously, but the size difference between you feels so stark now that he’s looking at you all curled up in your bed, rumpled and a little disheveled from the wine.
“I’ll—I’ll see you later!” Your friend blurts, before turning and rushing out.
Satisfied now that he is alone with you, Tsu’tey allows himself to sink to his knees by your bedside. Even on his knees, he is slightly taller than you in your bed.
You look a little flustered, clutching your cup of wine to your chest as you blink at him with wide eyes. It draws his eyes to your breasts, and with a little thrill of delight he sees that the fabric is sheer enough for him to get a good look at the outline of your nipples all firmed up beneath your clothes.
He so rarely sees you without the mask, and he can’t help but notice how sweet your little face looks without the clear barrier. Your eyes are all glossy and a little hazy from the wine, and you’re looking up at him as though you can’t quite believe he’s there.
“Are you alright?” He asks quietly. The moment feels so delicate, as though he might inadvertently shatter it with a raised voice, so he keeps his voice low and even as he reaches out to stroke over your squishy cheek with a single finger.
To his surprise, you jerk away from him, once again almost sloshing the wine all over yourself. You roll off the bed, holding your cup high, until you’re on your feet in front of him.
“Yes!” You say, and your voice comes out high-pitched and a bit shaky. “Fine, I’m fine. Why are you here?”
For a moment, Tsu’tey just stares at you. You’ve never pulled away from his touches. It’s always been him that’s been jittery around you, nervous in case he hurts you or pushes too far. But now you’re wobbling away from him and avoiding his gaze, and that makes something that feels a lot like panic settle into his bones.
“You are upset.” Tsu’tey notes, shuffling a little closer to you on his knees as you retreat.
“No, no, everything is fine,” You’re insisting, visibly unsteady on your feet as you totter around. “I don’t know why you’re here.”
It shouldn’t be cute, but Tsu’tey is coming to admit to himself that he finds everything about you unnervingly endearing. He watches as you struggle to straighten out your rumpled little clothes, admiring the way the thin fabric clings to you. You look embarrassed and a little self-conscious, as though he’s caught you out.
“I was waiting for you,” He murmurs, reaching for you again. He keeps his hands slow, as though approaching a wounded nantang. You’re such a jittery little thing, but you don’t pull away this time, allowing him to place a hand carefully on your hip. “You did not come to see me today.”
“I figured you’d be busy.” You say, your tone snippy and a bit bratty. “Thought you’d go and hang out with Saeyla today.”
Tsu’tey stares at you. What does Saeyla have to do with this? Is this why you are so upset?
“Syulang,” He murmurs, foregoing his usual nickname for you for a much softer one. “You always have much to say. Please talk to me. I am not understanding why you are angry with me.”
For a moment, he thinks that you aren’t going to speak to him at all. But then you grip your little cup of wine and raise it to your lips, drinking one deep gulp before looking at him in the eye with fiery determination.
“I’m embarrassed,” You snap. “I’ve been basically throwing myself at you for months now, so excuse me if my ego is a little bit bruised. The least you could have done would be to let me down gently instead of letting me embarrass myself in front of everyone—”
Tsu’tey goggles at you, hardly able to believe what you’re saying. “Tawtute—”
“No,” You interrupt sharply, pointing your finger towards him. “Don’t. You said I could talk now.”
Tsu'tey falls obediently silent. His tail curls around his thigh; he’s a little surprised by the way he physically reacts to your sharp tone. He’s never heard you sound so firm before.
“I’ve been—I’ve been wearing all that silly makeup, and wearing all those skimpy tight clothes because I thought you’d look at me more!” You continue, your voice trembling a little. “I’ve been following you around like a pathetic puppy, and sitting in your lap at dinnertime, and holding your hand, and—and—”
You’ve been hoping for him to look at you more? Couldn’t you tell that all he ever did was look at you?
“And then you just tell me that I’m not attractive, and you toss me out of your lap, and tell me that we’re just friends, and you tell me right to my face that you’re going off to sleep with your ex-girlfriend—”
Tsu’tey sputters so hard at that that he nearly spits, horrified.
“I never—” He starts, his eyes wide as his tail curls under his legs, his ears pinning back.
“You did!” You burst out, teary-eyed. “When I was practically naked in front of you, I waited for you to say something, to give any sort of indication that you might like what you were seeing, but you just glared at me and said nothing at all!”
Ah. Tsu’tey has never hated his resting scowl as much as he does in this moment.
“And then yesterday! You said we’re just friends, then you threw me off your lap, and then you said you were going to Saeyla’s kelku right after walking me home—” You continue, beginning to really work yourself up.
“No!” Tsu’tey blurts, reaching out and grabbing at your hand. His blue palm engulfs your much smaller one, and he holds it as delicately as he can. “No, you have misunderstood, syulang.”
“God, I don’t even know why I like you,” You sniffle. “You’re so rude.”
“But you do,” Tsu’tey murmurs, his eyes still wide at the sheer novelty of it. “You like me. You cannot take it back now.”
“Oh, you’re such a dick,” You hiss, yanking your hand out of his. “Did you come here just to rub this in my face—”
“I threw you out of my lap because you were sitting on my cock and I didn’t want you to notice how hard you made me.” The words escape Tsu’tey’s mouth before he can think about it, but you finally fall silent.
 You look a little stunned, actually, and Tsu’tey figures that he’d better start talking quickly before you come back to yourself and remember that you’re angry with him.
He pulls your cup out of your hand and raises it to his mouth, draining the wine in it himself in an effort to cultivate some liquid bravery. The taste bursts sharp and syrupy across his tongue. Of course, he thinks as he licks a dark drop from his lip, you would favour the cloying sweet wine. It suits you.
“Syulang, pretty girl, I do not like when you are upset.” He murmurs, shuffling closer on his knees. You don’t pull away, watching him come and allowing him to rest his hands on your hips. “Please listen.”
You’re still gaping at him, clearly a little thrown off by him stealing your wine from you. He takes advantage of your momentary silence by launching into his explanation. He hardly knows where to begin, but he decides to start with the most heinous accusation.
“I have never been intimate with Saeyla,” He murmurs, his thumbs stroking over your hips. “Never, tawtute. I have not been intimate with anyone in a very long time.”
Your throat bobs a little nervously, but you don’t interrupt.
“I have been taken with you for many, many months now,” He admits, and his ears flatten a little in embarrassment. He is not used to discussing his feelings, and it feels unnervingly vulnerable. “I know that I am grumpy, and rude, and I do not always express myself well. I have never been good at talking, and I can be too arrogant for my own good—”
You breathe out a shaky laugh and sway a step closer, as though you’re hardly aware what you’re doing. Tsu’tey’s grip tightens carefully on your hips, his breath catching in his chest as he urges you closer yet again.
“I have been so full of desire that it has been difficult to think,” He confesses in a low whisper. “It has been humiliating. I had thought— I did not want to scare you—”
He never gets a chance to finish his explanation. He’s partway through his sentence when you launch yourself into his arms, and he cuts himself off in favour of wrapping his arms around you to stop you from bowling the two of you over.
You start kissing his face all over, peppering eager little butterfly kisses all over the tanhì across his forehead and cheeks and all over his flat nose. He can’t help the delighted rumble that’s ripped out of his chest at the display of affection, and he tries to follow your lips with his face when you start to pull away.
“You’re so stupid,” You whisper, and Tsu’tey is so pleased that you’re smiling again that he doesn’t even feel offended about that. “I’ve been jumping in your lap and holding your hand every chance I’ve gotten. I took my clothes off and sunbathed practically naked with you, and showed you my tits—”
“I thought we were being friends.” He says thickly, leaning forward again in the hopes that you’ll give him another kiss. Even on his knees in front of you as you stand, he is so much larger and bulkier than you; it makes him want to tuck you away and keep you safe forever.
You groan, tilting your head back as though you’re in pain. “Tsu’tey. You’re killing me here.”
He can’t resist the temptation of your head tilted back with your throat bared, and leans forward to press his face into the crook of your neck. He rubs his cheek against your pulse point, feeling satisfaction bloom in his stomach as his scent is spread all over the vulnerable skin of your throat.
“I am sorry, syulang,” He murmurs, his lips brushing over your pulse. He feels you shudder against him, and clutches you tighter. “I thought it was obvious how I felt. The whole clan knows. Do you not see how they watch us?”
The laugh that leaves your mouth is a little thready, and your hands come to rest on Tsu’tey’s shoulders for balance as he nuzzles into your shoulder.
“I thought they were looking at me,” You whispered. “Because I was so obvious about how I liked you.”
Tsu’tey shakes his head, trying to hide the silly grin on his face into your soft shoulder. You like him. All of those months of ridiculous pining and yearning and humiliating stifled desire, only to find out that you desired him too.
“So…” You whisper, and he can hear the smile in your voice. “So, you did like my piercings, then?”
Tsu’tey groans, his fingers spreading wide over your back as he pulls you closer. You’re so much smaller than him that his hand spans almost the whole width of your back, and his heartrate picks up as he feels your soft body press into him.
“Yes,” He murmurs, his ears pinning back in muted shame at the admission. “I liked them.”
The smile that breaks over your face at that is almost blinding, and he’s surprised by your enthusiasm when you grab at his jaw and haul his face closer so that you can capture his lips with your own.
The fact that he’s kissing you nearly stalls his brain, but then he feels the softness of your lips and the wet heat of your tongue, and it feels as though his nerves are set alight. He grunts, using the hand on your back to hold you close against him as he kisses you back eagerly.
He’s trying to be as cautious as possible, worried about hurting you, but you don’t seem to share his concern. In fact, your fervor surprises him. You push at his shoulders, and though you’re not strong enough to shift him he follows your unspoken order anyway, until you’ve guided him all the way back to your bed.
He gasps, his vision going a little blurry as you begin trailing kisses along his jaw. He grabs at the mask to take a few clumsy breaths of air, his body hot and tense as you kiss him.
“Bed,” You breathe, pushing at his shoulders. “Get on the bed.”
“Tawtute,” He says, swallowing thickly. “Should we— do you wish to take this slow?”
You pause then, pulling back a little so that you can level him with a look. He’s always found your strange little face difficult to read, but even he can tell that you look decidedly unimpressed right now.
“You think I want to take this slow?” You repeat, nose crinkling. But then your expression grows a little unsure, and you start to pull away. “Oh. Do you want to take this slow?”
“No.” Tsu’tey says, far too quickly.
The two of you just look at each for a moment, blinking. Then Tsu’tey stands, his knees slightly wobbly after kneeling before you for so long, and sinks down onto your bed. It’s a tight fit, the bulk of his body hunching forward slightly as his knees bunch up, but his slight discomfort is forgotten immediately when you climb up into his lap.
Over the last few months, you have sat in his lap many times. This time is different – this time, you’re straddling his crotch, your lovely thighs bracketing his hips as your soft bottom rests over his cock. You’re still kissing him, your soft lips trailing all over his jawline then up to his mouth again, swallowing the appreciative grunts that pour from his mouth.
When he had imagined this, often late at night with his cock in his hand, he had pictured you soft and eager and sweet – and you are all of those things, but nothing could ever have prepared him for how hungry you are, how impatient and greedy you are as you push him back onto your bed and follow him down. Your bodies are pressed so tight together that there’s hardly an inch of air, yet you seem determined to wriggle even closer.
Tsu’tey moans quietly, leaning back among your threadbare pillows as you do your best to devour him. Your mouth is small, but you happily open it wide as you lick into his mouth, your little tongue tracing over his sharp canines in a way that makes him shiver.
“Can’t believe we had this conversation when I’m in my fucking pajamas,” You murmur into his mouth, pressing your soft fabric-covered tits against his wide chest. “I wanted to be wearing something sexy for this.”
All he can do is close his eyes against the onslaught of your lips and teeth on the exposed skin of his neck. Your small hands smooth over the planes of his chest, hot and possessive as they crawl over the front of his body.
“You are very beautiful, syulang.” Tsu’tey breathes, his hands finding a firm hold on your waist as your weight settles over him.
Then you grind down, and he’s already so aroused but now he can feel the heat of your pussy through those tiny damn shorts of yours and the noise that’s torn from his chest is completely undignified.
He grabs at you. It’s rough and presumptuous and honestly Tsu’tey isn’t even sure it’s a conscious decision, but before he knows it he’s grabbed you by the waist and is pulling you down to grind against his cock.
“Fuck,” You gasp, and Tsu’tey nearly loses it. “Oh god.”
You shuffle back a little, and Tsu’tey nearly audibly whines when he loses that glorious friction over his cock. But it turns out that you’ve only moved so that you have access to his loincloth, which you promptly begin to pull at.
“Mawey, yawntutsyìp.” He croaks out, though he’s already flexing his hips to help you pull his tewng off.
“Been wanting this for ages, you have no idea—”
Tsu’tey swears his head is spinning at the sheer irony of that, because he could have been experiencing this for ages?
His cock is freed from his tewng, slapping against his stomach with an embarrassingly loud smack. When you see how big he is, your eyes widen, and Tsu’tey has a horrible moment of panic where he worries that you’re going to change your mind. He would only be able to accept that choice, but he already knows that it will leave him with the worst case of blue balls he’d ever experienced.
But you don’t let his no doubt intimidating size stop you from reaching out with your small hands to stroke him. A guttural growl is pulled from him, and he tilts his head back against your soft bedding and bites hard at his lip in an effort to control himself as you stroke at him.
“Oh, fuck yes.” You breathe, your expression nothing short of delighted as you stare down at him. He feels vulnerable under your gaze, naked in a way that has nothing to do with the fact that you’ve pulled his tewng off him.
He reaches out, tugs at your top. “I wish to see you, again.”
That makes you smile. The little fabric top you’re wearing is so thin that he can see the outline of your breasts and little nipples already, and as you lean forward to tug at his cock it gapes open at the chest to give him a tantalising glimpse of your bare flesh, but it’s not enough. He wants to see you bare and wanting beneath him. Or on top of him. He’s not fussy.
When you pull your flimsy little fabric covering off, Tsu’tey feels as though he goes momentarily light-headed as his blood rushes south. He’s seen you like this before, that day at the river, but this is different. This time, he’s allowed to touch.
You’re as soft as he’d imagined – softer, even. Tsu’tey’s hands are eager, reaching up to grope and feel, and you tilt your head back and moan softly as he kneads at your delightfully squishy breasts. He just can’t get over how perfect and pliable you are, your supple skin moulding and giving around his hands. He’s never experienced anyone as soft as you; the Na’vi are bigger than the Sky People, and stronger too. His people do not have the same shape, are not soft in the same places as humans. And he’s never thought too much about it, but now he feels like he’s losing himself in your supple flesh.
And then there’s the delicate little barbells in your nipples. Tsu’tey stares, wanting so badly to touch but nervous about going too hard or fast and accidentally hurting you.
“Remember I said they were just to look good?” You breathe, pressing forward a little to encourage his hands to roam over your tits.
“Mm.” Tsu’tey grunts mindlessly. He does recall something of the sort, but he doesn’t think it is fair that you expect him to think when he has your tits in his hands like this, one hand almost spanning your entire chest.
“I lied,” You whisper, your lips curving up in a smile so cheeky that it makes Tsu’tey’s toes curl. “They feel good, too.”
Tsu’tey groans, running his fingers slowly across your skin before finally touching the piercings, his touch smooth and warm.
A low moan of contentment escapes him. "Soft skin. Pretty piercings."
His hands cup your breasts as his thumbs brush over your nipples. You were telling the truth about them; the piercings make you sensitive, and when you shiver under his hands, his gaze darkens.
"I want them in my mouth." He says suddenly, his voice rough and gravelly. His thumbs swipe over them yet again, and he looks up eagerly to you to wait for your permission as you sigh.
You laugh, though it's a breathless and weak sort of a thing. You’re trying to play it cool and casual, but Tsu’tey is holding your soft little breasts in his hands – he can feel your rapid heartbeat against his palm. "Go on, then."
He doesn't waste any time before he's bending his head and pressing harsh, biting kisses all along your chest. Then, getting sick of bending his neck down, he grabs at the flesh of your ass and hauls you up into his arms so that he can mouth at your nipples in earnest.
He licks over your left breast, feeling the little metal barbell against his tongue. It must feel good because you whine, arching your back and pushing your tits into his face even more. Your skin is so soft and sensitive, and it makes his rough tongue and big hands feel clumsy and coarse.
He wraps his lips around your nipple and suckles at it, his tongue playing with the strange little balls at the end of the bars. The metal is cool against his tongue, offering a pleasant contrast to your heated flesh.
“Ungh, shit,” You gasp, your little hands winding into his braids and gripping him there. “Tsu’tey… I wanna suck your cock.”
Tsu’tey freezes, his eyes going wide. Those words rock through him like a physical punch, and he groans as his cock visibly twitches against his stomach. He knows you can feel it, considering you’re still straddling him, and you begin to wiggle your way back as you try to get your face down to his crotch.
But as soon as you get your little hand on his cock, panic shoots through him. It feels good, so good, but he’s sure if you actually put it in your mouth he’ll die. He already knows that if you get your mouth on him everything will be over far too quickly, and he’s not ready to tap out just yet.
He grabs you and rolls, until you’re on your back staring up at him with a surprised little pout.
“I want that, tawtute,” He admits, his voice coming out in a gravelly rumble as he presses a careful kiss to your pouting lips. “But later.”
“But—”
He doesn’t let you finish. He’s too busy kissing your strange, alien little face, then down over your throat. You’re so addictive already. He wants to fuck you and have the whole clan listen, he wants to suck on your tits and have you crying, he wants to play with your clit until it’s puffy and swollen, he wants to play with your cute little hole, he wants to see you bouncing on his cock, on your hands and knees… He feels like he’s been set alight with desire, like the blood in his veins has turned molten.
His fingers hook into your little shorts and pull at them, and you lift your hips to help him tug them off. To his delight, you’re not wearing your tiny little fabric covering under them, and his tail whips in excitement at the sight of you bare beneath him.
“Oh,” He breathes, shuffling himself down your bed. It’s a narrow fit, and cramped, but Tsu’tey doesn’t care; his attention is fixed on you and the way your legs are spreading to accommodate the bulk of his body.
He takes in the sight of you eagerly, bare and glistening wet, and grinding against nothing, and he realises in that moment that his imagination could never have lived up to reality.
“I’m going to take care of you,” He mumbles mindlessly, leaning forward and pressing a kiss to your lovely plush inner thigh. “Going to make you feel so good, syulang.”
“Okay.” You sigh, the word coming out a little wobbly.
Tsu’tey’s tail whips from side-to-side as he gazes at your bare cunt, still hardly able to believe that you’re giving him access to you like this, that you like him too. It feels too good to be true, but Tsu’tey is not about to let this opportunity to pass him by.
“So pretty, yawntutsyìp.” He kisses his words flatly against your puffy lips before coaxing them open with his flat nose. His face is covered in you already, glistening across his lips and chin. But it’s not enough, it won’t be enough until he’s drowning in you.
You taste tangy and sweet, a heady mix of sweat and pheromones that pulls him in ever closer, desperate to drink his fill of you.
But even better than how you taste, is how you react.
You’re up on him so fast he barely has time to blink – no sooner has he laid his lips on your pussy, his mouth so big that it almost swallows you whole, than your hips are bucking up into his face. All he can smell and taste is you, and you’re so fucking wet and suddenly you’re rutting up against his face, not even caring if Tsu’tey’s mouth is open or not, as though you’re so desperate for him that all you can do is use him.
It’s the best day of Tsu’tey’s life. He’s going to mark this day and religiously celebrate it every year.
“Tsu’tey –!” You gasp, rutting your hips into his face. A wild, somewhat unhinged part of him hopes you break his nose. He uses his tongue against your clit and lets you rub yourself all over him, making his brain feel so blissfully empty.
He just moans into you, his hands wrapping around your plush hips and gripping at your squishy little bottom for leverage as he pulls you back against his face. He suckles at you so eagerly, tongue laving over your hole, over and over and over, delighting in the way you gasp and moan and grind into his mouth.
His tail coils as his arousal pulses, forgetting himself as his fingers clench into your soft skin. You sigh, and drop your head back against the pillows as you move your hips to push your pussy back against his tongue. When he spears his tongue into you, you whine, but the sound is muffled somehow—
You’ve bitten your pillow, Tsu’tey realises, and groans. He wants so badly to get his hands on himself, to stroke and tug at his cock as he devours you, but he can’t bring himself to let go of you. He feels as though he’ll die if he lets go of your squishy ass, and his fingers knead insistently at it as he dines on your cunt.
He fucks his tongue into you harder, mouth open and jaw aching in the most satisfying way. It’s all worth it when Tsu’tey realises that you’re crying, just softly, your moans and whines wet, your breaths choked.
Tsu’tey’s fingers find their way to rest against your pussy, pushing in gently when he’s satisfied with how well his tongue worked you open. Once the digits are wet, he pushes two in to the first knuckle. He groans at the feeling of how welcoming your pussy is, how responsive you are to his touch. You cry out, your thighs twitching as he stretches you out.
Your whimpering makes him feel bold, his cock weeping against his thigh. He’s harder than he’s ever been in his life, the frustrating ache in his balls is poured right into the quickening pace of his fingers. He wants you to break— to crumble into pieces just so he can put you back together.
“Tsu’tey,” You slur out, your fingers gripping at his braids as you writhe under his attention. “Need to slow down, or I’m gonna—I’m gonna come—”
Your words fall on deaf ears; Tsu’tey is practically hypnotised by your little whimpers and cries as he sucks and licks eagerly at your squishy wet pussy, his fingers twisting and rubbing all along your hot, clutching insides. He feels desperate to experience you come against his tongue, and his movements take on an edge of fervor as he opens his mouth wide to suck your whole cunt into his mouth.
You squeal, hips bucking, and your feet kick out until they’ve landed on his shoulders. Tsu’tey moans, pleased by your reaction, and his mouth seals firmly around you as his tongue laps at your clit.
Your thighs suddenly clench around his head, keeping it in place, and he increases his pace, keeping it rhythmic for you. He buries his nose into your little swollen clit, letting out a hungry little noise as he sucks at you.
And then you’re gasping, the line of your body going taut and stiff as your orgasm rolls through you. Tsu’tey doesn’t relent, sucking and licking at you as you tremble and shake apart. Your release tastes so sweet, like hot syrup on his tongue, and he can’t get enough of you. Your thighs grip his head so hard that the muscles tremble, and he relishes the pressure of your legs squeezing around his skull.
It doesn’t take long before your legs are kicking again, wheezing as you grow oversensitive and push at his head. With great reluctance, Tsu’tey pulls his mouth away with a wet ‘pop’, licking his lips before leaning in to suckle a series of biting kisses around your inner thighs.
He feels a little light-headed, still so hungry. He knows his eyes are heavy-lidded with his own arousal, his whole body throbbing with the need to take you, but he’s trying so damn hard to control himself.
“Oh god… fuck.” You breathe, staring wide-eyed at the ceiling.
That certainly strokes Tsu’tey’s male pride, and he looks up at you with a pleased, if slightly dazed, smile. He’s breathing heavily still from having devoted his entire attention to pleasing you and forgetting to breathe, and it takes a moment for him to realise he needs to sip from the stupid mask. He fumbles for a moment, grabbing at it and taking several deep breaths before dropping it again and leaning up to kiss at your cute little lower belly.
“It was good?” He asks. Judging by the look on your face he knows the answer, but he can’t help but want to hear it straight from your mouth.
You laugh, a little disbelievingly, then place a hand onto his chest and push lightly at him until he’s rolling over onto his back. You follow, swinging your leg over his hips and settling down so that your spit-slick pussy is nestled right up against his hard cock.
“So good,” You whisper, and it practically comes out like a purr. “So fucking good.”
Tsu’tey’s tail curls and his ears fold back, his stomach swooping in anticipation at the coy tone of your voice. His cock twitches too, very interested in the way you’re sitting on it. When you rock your hips lightly, allowing your slick pussy to glide along his length, he groans breathily before reaching to grab at your waist, trying to hold you still.
“Wait, syulang.” He says, his voice coming out embarrassingly hoarse. “You are so small, I don’t want to hurt you.”
He’s not expecting you to laugh at that, as though he’s said something that you find adorable. You lean in and kiss him, your lips soft against his hot, swollen ones.
“You’re not the first Na’vi I’ve had,” You whisper against his mouth, giving him yet another sweet kiss. “I know what I’m doing.”
He bristles at the thought of another Na’vi hunching over your little body, rutting into your hot wet softness. His hands tighten around your waist as a bolt of possessive jealousy flashes through him.
“Who?” He demands, his face scrunching up in a scowl.
You just giggle, leaning down to kiss the wide bridge of his nose. Tsu’tey’s ears fold down, a little mollified by how cute you are, though his scowl doesn’t lessen much. Your hand runs over his chest, your fingers stroking over his heated skin.
“Oh, shush.” You say with a fond smile, as though you think he’s joking. “What, did you expect me live like a nun while you were ignoring me all that time? I didn’t even think you liked me.”
Tsu’tey doesn’t know what a nun is, but he’s distracted before he can ask. You lean down slowly, running the tip of your tongue along his throat. You pause to bite him gently right where his vein pulses, and the rush of sensations from your touch nearly sends him spiraling.
“Besides,” You whisper, “I feel like you just sucked my soul out through my pussy, so I really don’t think anyone else is ever going to compare.”
The purr that your words pull out of him at that is embarrassing, but his body reacts before his brain does. Yes, he thinks smugly, I am better. It feels incredibly important to him that you know he is the best option, the man that can please you best.
Tsu’tey feels like he’s melting under you. The heat of your bare slick cunt against the length of his cock is fanning a fire in his blood. He bites at his lip as he feels your lips on his pulse, harder now, kissing softly, tongue flicking against the skin.
Your hand slides lower, and then finally your hand wraps around the base of his cock. He groans, bucks up, but didn’t mean to. Thankfully you just laugh, obviously amused as you’re lifted up by the momentum of his hips.
 “Tsu’tey, baby,” You whisper, and oh, your voice is going to drive him insane. “Does it hurt, being this hard?”
Tsu’tey openly chokes, and you give him one slow stroke. The feeling of your small soft hand against him has his mind blanking entirely for a second. You pause to rub your thumb under his cockhead, against the bundle of nerves there, and Tsu’tey moans as his eyes flutter shut.
“Pretty boy,” You whisper, and Tsu’tey gasps, feeling his lip quiver. He cracks his eyes open, just to see you smiling down at him. “Do you like when I call you pretty?”
Tsu’tey looks away and says nothing – but you just giggle.
“You’re pouting, Tsu’tey.”
“I am not.” He grumbles, though his cheeks are uncomfortably warm.
Your hands move, one stroking around his cock, the other cradling his balls. Tsu’tey arches, pushes into your hand as you twist your fist around his glans. His mouth falls open, a breathy moan escaping, and you visibly shiver. He tries to push himself up on his elbows so that he can watch as you shift atop him, hips rocking forward gently as you stroke at him.
“Syulang,” He manages, licking at his lips as his voice comes out all breathy and desperate. “Please.”
You grin at him, your eyes soft and affectionate as you watch him disintegrate beneath your touch. Then you’re lifting up onto your knees, using his chest as leverage, and Tsu’tey holds his breath as you position yourself over his cock.
“Breathe, baby.” You laugh, taking his mask and holding it up to his face.
He takes several deep breaths, feels the blurred edges of his mind sharpen, and reaches down to grab his cock. He helps you to position it, his cockhead gliding along your slick folds.
He has to pause for a moment, closing his eyes as his ears flatten back against his head. You’re so damn soft, your cunt is so hot and sticky wet, and he already knows that the moment his cock pushes inside of you he’ll be fighting for his life not to come instantly. He just wants to last long enough to please you, to make you feel good.
You let out a soft noise, your hips twitching as you try to hump your pussy back onto his cock. He has to grab your hips to keep you still, grunting.
“You’re teasing.” You whine, clutching at his arms as you try to wiggle your way back onto him.
“Mph.” Tsu’tey grunts, squeezing his eyes shut as he tries to contain himself. “Mawey, syulang. Patience.”
But patience doesn’t seem to be your strong suit. Your bright eyes have gone dark, pupils blown, forehead glimmering with sweat – you look beautiful, and Tsu’tey feels like he’s dying.
You lean forward and crash your mouth into his, kissing him hard and messy as you wriggle in his lap, trying to coax his cock inside you. Tsu’tey moans into your mouth, but then you’re pulling back, and your lips press against his nose, his cheeks, his forehead.
Still breathing deeply, Tsu’tey aligns his cock against your pussy, and at the same time as his sweet girl peppers his face with kisses, he begins to push inside. You whine at the pressure of the stretch, your forehead pressed against his as he presses his cock into you slowly, as slowly as he can manage.
“Come on,” You groan, leaning forward and letting your blunt little teeth scrape over the sensitive tip of his ear. “Put it in, put it in, put it in—”
“Calm,” Tsu’tey gasps, clutching at your plush little hips in an effort to keep you from slamming yourself down on him all at once. “Calm, yawntutsyìp, I do not wish to hurt you—”
But his words are lost when you shift over him right as he begins to press into you again, and from one second to the next he slides half-way inside, past the small ring of resistance and into the velvety hot inside of your cunt.
It’s like a gut punch.
He moans like a dying man and holds you as tight as he can in an attempt to ground himself enough not to start thrusting. You gasp, your features scrunching into a pained wince as you’re split wide around the thickness of his cock. He doesn’t need you to vocalise your discomfort, so he rubs your puffy clit to try and make it better for you. His calloused thumb rubs slow circles on it at the same time as you bury your face in the crook of his neck, panting and whimpering. 
Fuck, he needs to move.
Just a bit –
Just to take the edge off –
His hips pull back and then quickly snap forward again. “Fuck.”
It’s so easy it’s sinful. He pushes through the tightest cunt he has ever been in and it feels like home. He groans roughly, his arms wrapping around your waist as he tries to catch his breath. He can’t help but look down, and he almost whimpers at the sight of your cunt stretched wide around his thick length, at the aborted little twitching of your hips as you try admirably hard to take him in deeper. You’re so much tighter than he expected, and it takes everything in him to pull back again.
When he withdraws, your pussy grips him all the way to the tip, making him feel so insane he had to immediately dive back in, gasping. He’s too big to fit inside of you completely, but that’s okay; your tiny pussy grips hard enough at the length that you can take that Tsu’tey feels like he’s about to black out.
“Yes!” You cry out, arching your chest against his so that he can feel the cool sensation of your piercings against his skin, your fingers knotting into his braids as you lift yourself up then down on his cock, meeting his sloppy thrusts.
Tsu’tey feels as though the world is fracturing around him as he pushes himself into your tiny little cunt, feeling your pussy clench around his cock like a fist. It's so tight and sweet, his dick feels as though it's being pulled into paradise.
Being inside you is heavenly; it’s like your sweet little pussy is made for him, molding to him and stretching where it needs to, squeezing him tight to the point of pain. He pistons in and out of you from below, finding his own pace as the bed shakes from the force of his thrusts. You make soft, wet little sounds, a wanton creature in response in response as you undulate atop of him.
Your tits bounce every time he thrusts up into you, and he finds his eyes glued to sight before his self-control cracks and he’s leaning forward to take one of your breasts into his mouth. It takes a bit of contortion, his spine curving as his mouth locks around your tit, his tongue rolling against your little pierced nipple, his ears wiggling eagerly as they pick up your little mewls.
Oh, he’s not going to last long; he already feels like he’s losing his mind.
Soft, desperate little noises are babbling out of your mouth as you fuck yourself down on his cock, clutching at his shoulders for balance. Your jaw is slack and your mouth is open, and Tsu’tey can see flashes of your little pink tongue as you gasp and whimper everytime he rolls his hips up into you. Your movements have taken on an edge of desperation as you ride him, your pussy squeezing him so tight his vision is going blurry.
Then your little body is seizing, weak gasping moans spilling from your lips as your spine goes stiff. Your cunt clenches in sporadic little pulses, and Tsu’tey nearly roars at the intensity of it – your pussy sucks so tight that it almost hurts. It’s a weaker orgasm than your first one, but you still sob your way through it as you clutch at him.
“Oh, syulang, fuck.” Tsu’tey grits out, the human curse word sounding coarse and foreign on his tongue.
He wants to do this forever, to stay buried in you all night, but you’re sucking him in and clinging to him in a vice grip as you push back against him, and he’s about to explode. He’s overwrought, grunting against your sweat-damp skin as he clutches your soft little body close to him, the motion of his hips turning jerky and sloppy as he feels that tingly pressure grow in his stomach.
He lifts you off his cock with a cut-off snarl, grabbing at his cock with a clumsy hand as that pressure bubbles over. He comes with more force than he had been expecting, his come spurting out onto your belly and over your tits, dripping steadily over your smooth skin.
Part of him is a little embarrassed about how quickly he had come, but the larger part of him feels it was impressive that he didn’t spill the instant he got his cock inside of you. But you’re pouting up at him, clutching at his chest as you push back against him.
“No,” You whine, your voice quiet and tired as you try to grind your messy pussy back onto him. “Wanted you to come inside.”
Tsu’tey is already breathless, but the sweet little whimper in your voice nearly knocks him flat yet again. His cock is still throbbing, the last few drops of his release spurting out and glowing lightly against your skin. He takes in the sight of his seed spattered across your pretty little body greedily, committing it to memory. Nothing in his raunchiest wet dreams could have compared to the reality of this moment.
“We will have time for that, yawntutsyìp,” He whispers, his stomach clenching in excitement at the thought. “You will not need another man again.”
You grumble lightly, but he can see the satisfied little smile on your face as you go limp in his arms, burrowing closer to his chest as you collapse down next to him. Having you in his arms feels perfect; his tail curls in satisfaction when he realises how perfectly you fit against his chest, and he purrs smugly as he nudges his nose against your temple.
He rolls, scooping you up and arranging you so that you’re laying sprawled at his side, before curving his body around yours and wrapping an arm around your little body. Your body is still glistening with sweat and the dimly bioluminescent streaks of come that Tsu’tey has left on you – he’s torn between the urge to care for you, to clean you up and make sure that you’re sated and pleased, and to leave you marked and carrying his scent.
He’ll clean you up in a few minutes, he decides, allowing himself to enjoy the sight of you after being thoroughly claimed for a little while longer.
“If you ever say we’re just friends again I’ll kick your ass.” You mumble, pressing your face into his pectoral muscles.
You’re acting as though your bones have been dissolved into jelly, laying all limp and pliable against him even as you squirm closer. Tsu’tey allows himself to just stare at you, admiring all the subtle little bite-marks and bruising that he can’t remember leaving behind, admiring your puffy nipples and your still gooey cunt.
“Mm.” Tsu’tey hums, dipping his head down and laying it carefully on your chest. He’s a little nervous that he’ll be too heavy, but your small hands come up to tangle in his braids and scratch soothingly at his scalp. He allows his eyes to flutter shut, enjoying the plush softness of your breasts under his face.
“I like you very much, syulang.” He says, enjoying the pulse of your heartbeat beneath his head. “I am sorry that I have been slow to understand your interest.”
You laugh a little sleepily, craning your neck so that you can kiss his forehead before laying back again. “You certainly did a good job showing me your interest just now.”
“I will do more,” Tsu’tey promises, hardly even aware of what he’s saying. “I will collect kllpxiwll berries for you everyday, and go swimming as often as you like, and make you pretty jewelry, and keep you satisfied—”
You start to laugh before he even finishes.
“Who would’ve known a big grumpy asshole like you is capable of being so romantic.” You snicker as he nuzzles into your tits.
Your lack of a tail and blunt ears make it hard for him to read you, but he can tell by your tone of voice that you’re teasing him. He just curls around you, not minding at all. He enjoys the thought of proving to you exactly how romantic he can be – he has much to prove, and much to make up for.
“I am not grumpy now.” He mutters, turning his face so that it’s buried neatly in between your tits. He licks lazily over your left breast, savouring the feeling of the little silver barbell nestled in your nipple against his tongue.
You shiver, a soft little overwhelmed gasp escaping your lips as he kisses leisurely at your puffy and oversensitive nipples.
“No,” You murmur, and he can hear the fondness in your voice. “You’re not.”
Tsu’tey purrs, his whole body curving around you as he kisses absent-mindedly at your tits, his thoughts pleasantly hazy and somewhat nebulous.
“Breathe.” You remind him tiredly, your voice a little slurred around the edges with sleep.
Upon your urging, he lifts the stupid mask back up to his face and fits it clumsily over his mouth and nose. He wraps his arm around your waist, holds you tight, and just breathes as the two of you lay together, sated and satisfied.
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