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eddiemunsons80sbaby · 20 days

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I Hate Myself for Loving You

Pairing: ReaderXEddieMunson

Request: i don't remember reading something like this before and i thought it might be nice. a smut where they suddenly start kissing rough during a big fight like in films/series? they might be fighting because of jealousy or something else and the fight is going really hard, (they don't hit each other) but maybe eddie is throwing things against the wall and breaking them and the reader is pushing him by the shoulders etc., with the intensity of the fight, something can be ignited and I thought it could be a really tough smut

Word Count: 3.3K

18+ Only

Smut, Rough sex, there is verbal fighting, name calling, and throwing of things but never violence at each other

“Are you fucking serious right now Eddie!?”

Your chest heaved, blood boiling in your veins, making you feel as if you were incinerating from the inside out. Was he really going to stand there and accuse you of this when he did it all the goddamn time, assuring you it meant nothing?

“I saw you, sweetheart! You were practically in his goddamn lap!”

“I was not! Jesus Christ! I was sitting on the stool next to him. We were just talking. I haven’t seen him since high school so he was asking what I’ve been up to.”

Eddie snorted, his eyes rolling up into his head. “Yeah. I’m so sure Billy Hargrove was real interested in a conversation and not your tits that were practically in his face, begging to be touched.”

The rage that was building within you had you trembling. It slithered like an ugly disease down your arm and into your hand. You grabbed the ashtray from the end table and chucked it at him. He ducked just in time as it smacked into the wall with force behind him.

“What the fuck!?” he yelled, those brown doe eyes now dark with fury. “What is wrong with you?”

“You! You’re what’s wrong with me! I sit there every fucking time you have a show and watch while girls hang all over you! You smile and laugh and tease them! You make them think they have a shot with you! You pose for pictures and sign their fucking tits! You sit there like a king on your fucking throne, soaking it all up, loving being the rock star that all the groupies want a shot with! And you’re always telling me it means nothing! I have to just accept it if I’m with you! But I have one goddamn conversation with a guy…”

“He’s not just a guy! He’s your fucking ex!”

“Yeah! He is! Ex being the word that matters here! I’m not with him. I’m with you! I chose you and I keep choosing you but you never fucking choose me!”

His mouth dropped open, sounds of disbelief and disgust spluttering from him. He folded his arms across his lean chest, rising up to full height, towering over you. You didn’t flinch. You weren’t scared of him. Eddie could be a jerk but he would never lay a hand on you.

“I choose you! I could have any of those fucking girls I want! They want to come home with me! They’ve heard I can show them one hell of a time and they practically beg me to show them! But I don’t because I have you!”

“Oh! Well so sorry you’re saddled with me! That can easily be fixed you know!”

“And just what the hell is that supposed to mean, princess?”

“You can leave anytime you want if this isn’t making you happy anymore! Yeah! You know what? Maybe you should! Then you can actually live out your sad small town rock star fantasy! You can bring a different whore home every night and show her what a good time you are.” You paused, tilting your head, hands on your hips. “But what fucking home will you bring her back to when you don’t have me to foot the bills so you can run off pretending you’re Tony Lommi?”

“We’re really going to do this again?”

“Do what again?”

“Bitch about me not pitching in enough around here! You knew what I was when you decided to be with me. You told me you were good with me working part time so I could focus on my music.”

“That was three fucking years ago! How long are you going to keep it up!?”

“You used to support me! You used to believe in me!”

Tears welled up in your eyes, only fueling your anger more, because you didn’t want to cry. You didn’t want to show any sign of weakness. You didn’t want him to see how much his words had hit their mark, like an arrow hitting the bullseye.

You had supported Eddie. You had supported him. You’d encouraged him to go for his dream but his dream was now killing both of you. You couldn’t take it. Night after night watching women throw themselves at him, watching him encourage it, eat it up, relish the attention. Working twelve hour shifts, dead on your feet, just to cover rent because Eddie couldn’t possibly take on more hours if he was going to get that new song finished.

“Yeah, I did, and you used to act like I mattered!” you spat.

“You matter!”

“Do I? It sure as hell doesn’t feel like it! When’s the last time you spent any time with me that wasn’t in the fucking bed, Eddie? That’s all I��m good for anymore! You don’t want to watch a movie or go down to the lake like we used to! I’m nothing but a toy you bring out when you need to quench your urges and then you put me back on a fucking shelf!”

“Bullshit! I invited you to band practice last week and you said no!”

“Oh! Thanks so much for wanting me to be there! We both know you just want an audience! You want someone to worship you and tell you how amazing your music is. I’m your girlfriend Eddie! I’m not some fucking groupie who’s just there to fawn over you and spread my legs!”

“No? Well, you sure acted like one tonight with Hargrove!”

“Fuck you! Get the fuck out!”

“This is my apartment too!”

“The fuck it is! You don’t pay for shit and my name’s on the lease!”

“You seriously want me to leave?” he growled.

“Yes! I want you gone! I’m done! I’m not doing this shit anymore!”

“Oh! Oh! I see what this is. You gonna call your roid rage boy toy once I’m gone? What sweetheart? You saw that mullet again and just couldn’t help yourself? You going back to him?”

You should say it but you couldn’t help yourself. Not after week after week of questioning if Eddie wasn’t just giving all those girls attention. Not after nights staring at the clock, wondering if he was off with one of those groupies, temptation too much for him to handle. Not after the way he’d just assumed you’d be willing to do the same. Staring him down, you challenged, “And so what if I am?”

His arm shot out and you shrieked, flinching, your hands coming to either side of your head as a shield. The crash of broken glass shocked you to your core as he grabbed the nearest thing to him, the lamp, and threw it with all the force he had against the wall.

You stared at him, silent, shocked as he glared down at you, chest heaving, each breath straining the fabric of the fitted shirt he’d started to wear ever since a groupie told him he should show off his body more.

“You want to go to him! You’re gonna leave me for that piece of shit!” he raged, flinging magazines from the end table one by one, nowhere in your direction, just satisfying thunks against the wall that punctuated each word he spoke. “You think he’s gonna be better to you than me!” His hand snatched the little elephant that he’d bought you from the zoo, the tiny figure cracking as it made contact with the wall next. “You’re just gonna walk away!”

“You asshole!” you screamed, fists pummeling against his chest, shoving him backward. His hands wrapped around your wrists, holding you in place, keeping you from reaching him.

“Stop it!” he yelled as you flailed like a feral animal to free yourself from his grip.

“I hate you!” you cried. “I fucking hate you!”

“Calm the fuck down!” he roared, pushing you back until he had you pinned against the wall, his weight pressing against you. “God, why do you have to be such a bitch!?”

“Probably because you’re such a dick!” you snap back, trying so hard to hold onto your anger but the awareness of his body, every inch of him now pressed against every inch of you, is making it harder to do.

He rolls his hips, his erection pressing against your center, smirking when you gasp at the contact, “Yeah, but you like that dick, don’t you?”

“Go to hell,” you grind out through gritted teeth and when he drops his head to find your lips, you snap at him, going for the bite. He just chuckles, keeping hold of your wrists, bringing them to either side of your head against the wall.

“You are such a pain in my ass.” He tries for the kiss and when you nip at him again, his lips latch onto your neck instead, sucking a bruise into your skin while he slots his thigh between yours.

“You are…”

But you never tell him what he is as he presses his thigh against your center, your traitorous hips rolling, seeking the friction he’s providing. His mouth moves over your neck, suckling the flesh in a semi-circular pattern until he reaches the other side. He’s marking you, a necklace for you to wear, to display that you’re taken, that you already belong to someone. Like a fucking dog in heat, he’s making sure that Billy Hargrove and any other unfortunate male who even glances your way knows you’re not available.

You want to fight him. You want to be the badass bitch who pushes him off and walks away, stands your ground, but it just feels so goddamn good. His mouth on your skin, firm muscle grinding against you just where you need it, fingers pressing into your pulse points as he keeps you captive against the wall.

“What was that, princess? I’m what?” he teases, fingers loosening their grip on your wrists, trailing over the sensitive flesh on the underside of your arms sending shivers racing up your spine. They brush over the outer curve of your breasts and your back arches, your body craving more, needing more but Eddie just steps back, holding his hands out in front of him. “There’s the door. If I’m such a dick, why don’t you head out right now and find your little boytoy?”

Your teeth grind together, that anger that you’d forgotten in the haze that was desire raging back, the two warring with each other, a battle that was about to lead to epic destruction.

“You bastard…” you mutter, shoving him backward, his body moving barely an inch. “I despise every fucking thing about you.”

One eyebrow lifts, taunting, his tongue slipping out of the corner of his mouth, tracing over his bottom lip. Your eyes watch, a clenching between your thighs as that backstabbing bitch aches for what she knows that tongue can do.

“I hate you…you’re…you’re…”

“Yes? I’m listening.” He cups his hand to his ear, egging you on, brown eyes dancing with amusement as how vexed he’s gotten you.

A roar of frustration rips from your throat, your hands slamming into his chest, sending him almost toppling over the coffee table. His arms flail for a second before he drops to his ass, hard, just managing to keep himself sitting. He barely has time to look up at you before you’re climbing onto his lap, your fingers sliding roughly into his hair, grabbing a fistful, painfully pulling his head back, relishing the way he winces.

“Fuck, princess. Careful with the hair.”

“Shut up,” you order, your tongue tracing down his neck, his wince quickly turning into a groan. You sink your teeth into the flesh between his neck and shoulder and he grunts, grabbing onto your hips, fingers digging into the flesh hard enough to bruise.

You rock against him, seeking the relief, the pressure building within you, winds of anger and lust meeting to create a tempest that was about to sweep you both away. Lips, teeth, and tongues clash in a war of biting, sucking, and scraping that has your thighs shaking, a coil tighter than you’ve ever felt before curling in your stomach, begging to spring free.

Eddie’s hands grab onto your top, tearing it in half, the sound of the threads coming apart satisfying. He makes quick work of your bra and then his mouth descends, marking your flesh until you’re sure there won’t be an inch of you that isn’t bruised. Your hands find their way up his shirt, nails raking along his back when he clamps his teeth over your nipple, tugging at the tender peak, a pain that sends a rush of pleasure straight to where you keep rocking against him.

“Fuck yes!” you cry, nails embedding into the skin of his shoulders, using him as leverage as you chase your own release against the bulge in his jeans.

His hand clamps around your throat, pushing you back, away from what you want right at the moment you’re about to get it. The rage is back, awakened again by the audacity of this man to keep your orgasm from you. Your back drapes over his legs as he makes fresh marks over your stomach, his other hand slipping up your skirt.

The soft Eddie, the one who glided calloused fingers over your trembling flesh, who teased you over top of your panties, who pressed tender kisses to your inner thighs, was nowhere to be found. Without warning, his thrust two of his thick fingers past the scrap of fabric and inside you, not giving one thought to if you were ready for him.

But you were. Holy shit, you were wetter than you’d ever been, inner thighs already sticky from the friction, the brutish way his mouth was marring your skin. You’d never been so turned on in your life and you didn’t know what that said about you and at this moment, with his fingers deep within your pussy, his heel grinding against your clit, his mouth suckling a fresh mark under your breast, you really didn’t care.

“Not thinking about leaving now, are you, princess?” His hand came down, making contact with the side of your breast with a smack, your whole body jolting.

You cried out, your hands dropping to the ground behind your head to keep you from spilling off his lap. Another finger pressed into you, stretching you, filling you and a sound you didn’t even recognize wrenched from your body as it clamped down around his fingers. His large palm grabbed your breast roughly, pulling at the overly sensitive skin, everything heightened in this moment, your entire body feeling like it flayed open, senses on max level.

“Fuck!” you growled, your whole body quaking as it neared release and his palm lifted, fingers slipping out, leaving you feeling empty.

“You don’t come until I tell you to.”

“What the fuck do you mean…”

But your words were cut off as he manhandled you, turning you over, your face pressed down into the carpet. Snatching off your underwear, he roughly palmed your thighs, spreading you wide until your entire front half was bent onto the floor.

You heard the slide of his zipper. “You want this dick, don’t you?” he purred, leaning forward, his voice just over your shoulder. “Come on, princess. You want this dick, you gotta ask nicely. Say please.”

“Go fuck yourself,” you spat, refusing to give him the satisfaction of hearing you beg.

“Hmm…okay then…”

“You think I want that after so many groupies have had a turn on it,” you challenged, daring him to say it. To tell you that yeah, he’d been cheating on you for months. Letting you believe it was all just about keeping the fans happy so they’d keep coming back. “You think it’s so special? You can fucking keep it. I can find just as good elsewhere.”

You moved to get up and his hand wrapped around the back of your neck, pushing you back down to the floor.

“Nobody’s had a fucking turn but you,” he growled. “I’m a lot of things, sweetheart but a liar ain’t one of them. You are so goddamn stubborn, you know that? Sometimes I wonder why I even put up with you.”

“Then don’t!”

“Oh, I wish it were that simple. I’m fucking in love you, you idiot! You’re a pain in my ass and you drive me up the fucking wall but I love you and you love me and you fucking know it.” He slapped your ass, leaving a sting that had your pussy dripping all over again. “Now be a good girl and ask for my cock politely.”

Fuck. You hated how right he was. You hated how much you wanted him. You hated how hopelessly in love with him you were. You wished you had the strength to just get up and walk away but you didn’t. A throb between your thighs reminded you how much you needed this. Your body was going to make the decision for you.

“Fuck me, Eddie,” you snarled.

“I’m sorry. What’s the magic word?”

“I hate you…I hate you so fucking much…”

“Nope. Sorry but that’s not it.”

“Please!” you screamed. “Please fuck me into this goddamn floor and let me come already!”

“That’s my good girl.”

His hips slammed forward, colliding against your own as he buried himself to the hilt within you. You groaned gutturally, your body a discrepancy of both relief and tension. He thrust into you at a brutal pace, your skin smacking together, loudly filling the small space. You had a fleeting thought about what the neighbors were hearing but it quickly dissipated as the only thing you could focus on was Eddie, stretching you, filling you, finally giving you what you needed.

His hand wrapped around your throat, pulling you off the floor, pressing your back to his chest. Continuing to fill you, he gripped your neck, his other hand sliding over your stomach and in between your thighs. When he applied pressure to your clit, you keened, arching back against him.

“This pussy is mine. You’re mine.” His teeth bit down into your shoulder. “You’re the only one that’s mine. You’re the only one I want. Do you understand that?”

You couldn’t answer. Your eyes rolled toward the heavens, muscles trembling violently. You had zero control. His grip around your throat tightened, a wheeze rising from your lungs as you attempted to suck in air that you couldn’t find.

“I said, do you understand that?”

He slowly eased up pressure and you rasped out, “Yes. Yes. Yes…”

The word continued to fall from your lips, a mantra as the pressure that had been building within you finally reached its boiling point. You were standing at the precipice, looking at the drop…it was so damn close you could taste it.

“Come for me now,” ordered Eddie.

The band snapped, an explosion of sweltering heat racing along your skin, as your orgasm violently took over your body. Eddie kept his hand around your neck, not ceasing his unmerciful pounding, his flesh meeting yours with a ferocious collision every single time. His grip tightened as an animalistic roar assaulted your ears.

Sweat slicked flesh slid against each other as the two of you collapsed into a heap on the floor. You lay next to him, panting, struggling to understand what the hell had just happened. How had you gone from being ready to kick him out to having the hottest sex of your life?

“I mean it. You’re the only one. I’ve never kissed or touched any of those girls. I’ve never even considered it,” he gasped. “Have you? Were you…considering Billy?”

“No…not really,” you managed, still unable to fully catch your breath.

“You love me?”

Your head turned, looking over at this idiot that somehow had such a hold on you. You couldn’t explain it but you also couldn’t deny it. Rolling your eyes, you shook your head.

“Yeah. I do. I love you even if you are a dick.”

“Good because I love you too, you pain in the ass.”

#eddie munson #stranger things eddie #eddie the banished #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x femreader #eddie the freak munson #rough #rough smut #smut #request #smut requests #eddie munson stranger things #jealousy #toxic relationship #rough stuff

273 notes · View notes

wheneclipsefalls · 11 months

Text

Marked

Masterlist ao3

This one shot is a sequel to Lesson Learned but can be read as a stand alone

Pairing: Neteyam (23) x Metkayina fem reader x Loak (22)

Summary: Neteyam and Lo’ak have many different ways of staking their claim on you.

Warnings: aged up characters, rough sex, slight degradation, p in v, threesome, dom/sub undertones, spitting, swearing, orgasm denial, possessive behavior, power imbalance, established relationship

Sevin: Pretty Yawne: Beloved Tewng: Loincloth

Ocean waves roll against the strong corded muscles of Neteyam’s thighs as he wades out of the salty water. His body aches from the strain and exertion of the hunt but it’s a welcomed feeling. The pleasant hum that tells one that they have accomplished something, pushed themselves to new limits. Now that his desire for adventure and achievement has been satiated he yearns for a softer pleasure. This instantly has his thoughts turning towards you.

Beads of ocean water still running down his toned body as he hastily makes his way towards your marui pod. He finds it empty. The lack of Lo’ak’s appearance is sure to be no coincidence so he immediately knows where to find you. On the outskirts of the village he can see Lo’ak’s small pod with the flaps closed and it tells Neteyam everything he needs to know. He is barely within eyesight of the abode before he hears your whining pleas. A smirk curves along his lips, wondering what his brother has gotten you into now.

Pulling back the flaps, the sight immediately sends blood rushing to his groin.

Your hands are tied to the headboard by the slim pieces of leather Jake had once taught Lo’ak to make. As Lo’ak licks and feasts at your core devilishly you curse those stupid straps that keep you in place. Part of you wonders if the younger Sully brother requested to make them only for this purpose. The sight of the leather now stirs a concoction of thrill and dread when you see him unwrap them from his forearms.

Lo’ak is insatiable. Long tongue running up and down your folds and tracing circles till you are practically growling at him. Then, without any warning, he is sucking on your clit, fingers probing at your entrance synchronously. It’s a rush of tantalizing sensations that quickly bring you towards the familiar cliff of climax, only then to have it ripped away in an instant.

You aren’t sure how long Lo’ak has been edging you, but your core spasms with the need for release. Yet, it is becoming clear with the mischievous satisfaction that twinkles in his golden orbs that this feeling will not be going away anytime soon.

All of this could have been avoided if you had simply kept your mouth shut. The hungry makeout session underneath the mangrove trees was heading in a direction that you knew would end with him ramming into you without reprieve. You were more than ready for that outcome but it was the consistent drag of his teeth along your neck and fourth mark littered across your collarbone that had pushed you to complain.

Lo’ak has always been possessive. Truly, both brothers can’t stand the thought of another man touching what belongs to them, but Lo’ak lets out this frustration by marking your body as his…constantly. You’ve been to more meetings and gatherings than you can count that led to wandering eyes observing the primal marks covering your skin. You can’t help but feel slightly embarrassed by the ordeal, always trying to find a way to cover them. This effort is always proven useless however as Lo’ak inevitably finds new places to sink his teeth into.

In a moment of weakness you brought it up, complaining that his oral fixation always ended in giving you unwanted attention and embarrassment.

He didn’t take it well.

You should’ve known such comments would bring you to now, where you are writhing beneath him in humiliating desperation with a new line of teeth marks along your curvy hips.

Your head snaps over to finally see Neteyam, dripping in the entrance of the marui. Hope lights within you like a flame, naively thinking that the older brother will come to your rescue.

“N-Neteyam!” Your voice grows into a whine as Lo’ak purposely avoids your bundle of nerves again. Still, Neteyam’s gaze is casual, opting to look at his brother instead. “Nete help!”

Lo’ak rolls his eyes at your pathetic little pleas. His tongue flicks at your clit just to enjoy the amusement of seeing your hips jut.

“Our little yawne thinks she has the right to tell us not to mark her sweet body.” Lo’ak’s distorted explanation rolls off his tongue easily. You quickly go to sputter and correct the information but suddenly two fingers are pressing into your tight heat and the only thing that escapes your soft lips is a gush of air followed by a moan. Lo’ak presses his other hand to your inner thigh, keep you spread open for him. He has to hold back an audible groan at the sound of your tight pussy squelching around his long fingers.

“Silly babygirl.” Neteyam chuckles before crossing the room, past the spot where you squirm and cry beneath Lo’ak. He starts to dig through various weapons and tools that abide in the corner of Lo’ak’s marui while you try to call for help.

“You borrowed my spear gun.” He casually tells Lo’ak.

“Yep.” Lo’ak confirms, lips still tickling at your clit and sending a vibration of pleasure through you.

“Where is it?” Neteyam hums, still digging through the items. You can barely believe your ears as they continue to have a casual conversation as if you are not dripping onto his brother’s face while begging to finally have an orgasm. This isn’t the first time they have done something like this and it gets you wondering if they simply do it to frustrate you further. To show that your pleasure is completely in their hands and can be taken lightly as a form of a sadistic game.

“Behind the basket, bro.”

“Nete!”

Lo’ak’s canines sharply bite your clit. You screech and cry at the pain.

“When my head is between your thighs you call my name.” Lo’ak’s hisses at you, stern gaze pinning you in place. You can feel your clit throbbing from the small bite but it only fuels your desire to burn hotter until it has become agonizing once again.

“Yes Lo’ak.” You whimper. He nips at your folds again, reprimanding you.

“Yes sir.” You correct yourself but you can’t help but feel that he tricked you into answering incorrectly. When he dives back in to assault you with euphoric pleasure Neteyam finally decides to stroll over and set the spear gun to the side. He pets your curls and coos as you moan relentlessly. His long fingers slowly brush along the news marks on your hips, admiring the contrast against your light blue skin.

Lo’ak’s fingers curl inside of you while his thumb massages your sweet bundle of nerves. It’s enough to have your legs shaking and renewed promises coming from your lips.

“Sir please! I’ll do anything you want just please let me cum!” You beg, back arching while your hands frantically tug at the binds.

“Oh yawne, you know how much I love hearing you beg.” Lo’ak draws out while beginning to pump his fingers in and out of your sopping entrance. His other hand comes to leisurely play with your little bundle of nerves, lightly tapping it repetitively till you are close to the edge, then pulling back. You swear he has some sixth sense that tells him when you are about to cum. Sometimes you wish you were better at keeping a poker face but you are putty in the brothers’ hands and you doubt that will change any time soon.

“Neteyam, he’s being mean.” You whine, pained expression turning to look up at the older brother.

“Babygirl, you know how much Lo’ak and I like decorating your little body with pretty marks. It seems to me that you were the mean one telling Lo’ak he couldn’t.” Neteyam easily rebuts with a crooked grin. It’s obvious that he does not intend on lending a helping hand and your hope starts to diminish.

Your little squeak mixes with the lewd squelching sound of Lo’ak’s suddenly removing his fingers from you. He leans back on his haunches, sending you a cocky smile. The loss of sensation has your brain in a frenzy, desperately trying to find some point of contact to ease the burning desires. You push your hips towards him obscenely chasing after Lo’ak’s touch. All it grants you is leisure glide of his fingers between your folds more so for his entertainment than your actual pleasure.

Before you know it Neteyam is standing up with a pleased sigh and grabbing the spear gun on. Your cerulean eyes watch him warily, stomach dropping as you see him heading towards the exit. He claps a hand on Lo’ak’s shoulder.

“Seems like you got this, bro.” Neteyam’s comment is only met with an assured nod from Lo’ak before he is strolling out of the marui, leaving you alone to be tormented by the younger Sully.

Your tewng doesn’t conceal the angry purple marks on your hips no matter how much you shuffle the bands and fabric. Lo’ak leads you towards the fire with a possessive hand to the small of your back. Half the village is gathered together for the small celebratory meal but you can’t focus on any of the festivities with your body clawing for release.

No matter how hard you begged, pleaded, or promised unimaginable things, Lo’ak was set on edging you without reward.

Pattering beside him with shaky legs you spot Neteyam lounging on the outskirts of the gathering. Led to the other brother, you are prompted to sit on the eldest Sully’s lap. You obey but not without a short huff and a pout etched on your lips. Trapped in his lap with an arm around your middle Neteyam is unbothered by your pouting state. If anything, he seems to enjoy your adorable expression as Lo’ak’ picks up your feet and places it on his own lap.

You refuse to say a word as food is passed around and chatter fills the air. The sexual frenzy of hormones racing through your veins sets you into an irritable mood. How is it that you have two fully capable, and drop dead gorgeous, Na’vi males and you’re still sitting there clenching your thighs together like a teenage girl?

Lo’ak can’t resist running his fingertips occasionally up and and down your calves, even tickling at the bottom of your feet until you are kicking and glaring at him fiercely. The cute scrunch of your nose and angry gaze only eggs him on, a cheeky grin permanently in place.

“Are you going to stop being a little brat or do I need to fuck that pout off your face?” Despite the amusement in Neteyam’s tone, you know that it is no joke. The sensible part of your brain tells you it is better to behave. It increases the chances of getting to cum at least once tonight, but you are also known for being stubborn. It’s a trait that the brothers enjoy on a good day but a large part of that is due to how fun it is to break that stubborn spirit. To show that after all the glaring, biting, yelling and plotting, you still will end up a whimpering mess promising to be their good little slut.

However, you are already riding the thin line of Lo’ak’s patience and you know the moment Neteyam sees some real defiance from you, there are bound to be consequences. Consequences that are sure to leave you aching and rutting against your sheets tonight in search of relief.

“I’ll be good.” You mumble before slotting yourself closer to Neteyam, head pressed against the crook of his neck the way he likes it. The obedience stirs him to trace soothing circles along your back, slowly calming down your racing heart beat.

The meal continues on smoothly after that. You enjoy the privacy that eclipse brings as the three of you are sat on the edges of the crowd, away from prying eyes. The night air is cool and gentle across your skin as the light slowly shifts to that of bioluminescence. For a moment you think that the worst is over and that the night will end with you entangled between the two happily but one detail throws off the whole trajectory of your plans.

Aonung stars from across the fire, browline scrunched with a heated gaze that doesn’t dare to leave you.

You recognize the stare as you have known Aonung your whole life. You spent most of your childhood running into the future Olo’eyktan as you played with Tsireya. There were even times as you got older that both of your parents briefly discussed the possibility of you too mating in the future. All of that of course was long forgotten when the Sully family arrived and the brothers managed to steal your attention away. Truth be told you never imagined yourself with the Metkayina male and you figured he felt the same way but it's obvious that this does not dismiss the injury to his pride. A mate that could’ve been his but is now constantly being felt up by forest boys.

You pray to Eywa that neither brother notices the penetrating look, even venturing to try and distract each with sweet kisses and random stories from your day.

Naturally it is Lo’ak who spots it first.

The golden rim sparkles with interest, tugging at one edge of his lips. The crooked smirk hides filthy plots swarming through his brain. He knows how much Aonung disapproves of the relationship but most importantly he recognizes the triumph his brother and him have scored over Aonung, blaringly obvious by the way you nuzzle between the two of them.

It’s only once Lo’ak’s hand is teasing up the plush of your inner thigh that Neteyam detects the source of the decision. Neteyam tilts his head to the side, braids swinging as he tauntingly stares right back at Aonung. To Aonung’s credit he doesn’t shrink away or avert his eyes. A notion that can be credited to male stubborn pride.

The wafting tension becomes palpable, stealing the breath from your lungs and tingling across your skin until you’re shifting on Neteyam’s lap. You recognize what is happening, a silent game between the three males. Aonung refuses to look away and Lo’ak eagerly starts to place open mouthed kisses along the heat of your neck. The warmth of his tongue along your pulse is tantalizing and enticing but your thoughts are still clear enough to recognize the embarrassing situation that is coming to unfold itself. The grind of Neteyam’s hard cock beneath your core only sparks your primal desires into a further distraction.

“Nete-” Sharp teeth at your earlobe cut the sentence short. Your eyes squeeze shut as you try to recall what your objective is. Calloused fingertips begin to slide up your ribcage, daringly getting closer to the shell top along the swell of your breasts. “S-stop he’ll see.”

“That’s kind of the point, mama.” Lo’ak’s words are complimented by a sharp pinch to one nipple after slipping underneath a shell. A small mewl slips your lips. The heat between your legs is unbearable again and the consuming pleasure of exploring hands and kisses only serve to subdue your mind further into a sexual frenzy.

“H-he’s future Olo’eyktan maybe we shouldn’t-” Neteyam grips your jaw tightly, forcing you to look back at him. Those golden orbs now harbor ice, relentlessly staring you down with a firm intensity. You gulp, already regretting speaking.

“I don’t see why you should care, babygirl.” You can’t tell if it’s Lo’ak’s or Neteyam’s hand that reaches for your other nipple to abuse it, but the sharp pain has your back arching as you bite your tongue to keep the noises in. “Is he the one filling your sweet pussy every night, making you see stars?”

“No sir.” The glimmer of stars-like freckles adorning his face are a sharp contrast to the dark shadow covering his features. Neteyam is usually so gentle and sweet, a good counterbalance to Lo’ak’s short temper, but there are moments when you get to see him like this. Rigid and unyielding to anything but absolute acquiescence. It sends a thrill racing to tug at your already pumping heart.

“Then it shouldn’t matter to you. Isn’t that right, babygirl?” When your eyes start to drop closed due to the teasing at your buds, Neteyam’s grip tightens, fingers digging into your soft cheeks. This startles you back into the present, pulling together some resemblance of a response.

“Y-yes sir. I’m sorry.”

“I don’t know baby, I’m not sure if I believe you.” Neteyam tuts with a feigned sigh. Lo’ak tugs on both of the hardened nubs simultaneously, pulling a small shriek from your throat. You are too caught up in Neteyam’s piercing features to process the way your hips are rubbing back against him shamelessly.

“I mean it!” Your small whine becomes more urgent.

If you were to look over you would see Aonung gripping the edge of his knee painfully, holding himself back from stomping over there to make a scene. Lo’ak occasionally looks back to make sure he is watching and it always results in a wordless brawl of emotions as they try to pin the other down with deadly looks.

“Then prove it.” Lo’ak chimes in, hot breath fanning over the back of your neck. Your jaw is finally released. You shoot bewildered looks back and forth between the two, trying to understand what conclusion they had already come to. The warm hands beneath your shells disappear and you are maneuvered to straddle Neteyam hips while facing away. Your legs spread wide, allowing the brush of night air to sink past the edges of your loincloth at your heated core.

Aonung’s features are now clear from across the fire, the only Na’vi intently watching the three of you. Blood rushes to your flushed cheeks. This is so much worse than a few hickeys.

“Slip your hand in your loincloth, yawne.” Lo’ak’s command has you snapping your neck to stare back at him in shock. He tilts his head with a look that says now is not the time to test them. You are trying to prove you’re sorry, after all.

With that in mind you shut your eyes and nimbly slip one hand underneath the soft cloth of your tewng. Heat radiates from your core, slick already dripping to your inner thighs.

“Two fingers along that pussy.”

There is no other choice but to obey, fingers swiping between your folds. Your cunt is still sensitive and the light brush of your fingers already has your hips bucking shamelessly.

“Show me.” The younger Sully murmurs darkly. Strings of arousal cover the two fingers and create a lewd line between them. Lo’ak wastes no time, grabbing your wrist and bringing the digits into his mouth. His tongue caresses each inch, stealing every trace of the slick. It’s then that you notice he is staring right back at Aonung, who wears a deep scowl that leaves creased wrinkles along his forehead.

The shame that would usually riddle your stomach into knots is concealed by the increasing pleasure that you receive from watching Lo’ak clean your fingers, his skilled mouth showing a reflection of what other places his tongue has been put to work.

Once the brothers deem the show of claim worthy enough, they send Aonung one more look of victory before shifting you to your feet and leading you into the bundle of mangrove trees. You pad along with them thoughtlessly, only focused on the radiating sexual energy coming from the brothers.

Your forms are concealed enough to be dismissed by the main crowd but a certain onlooker can still make out the silhouettes lit by the moonlight.

There is not a second given to breathe before lips are attacking your swirling turquoise skin. Neteyam’s hand grips your throat, pushing you back against the bark of the tree. Tongue and teeth dance across your form without reverence. Lo’ak pushes your legs apart to continue suckling at the already present marks to your inner thighs. Your grip on Neteyam’s broad shoulders is borderline painful as you silently beg for the younger brother to move his lips closer to your clothed core.

“Nete can we please go home? I n-need you inside.” The tremble in your voice is hushed away with a chaste kiss to the lips.

Neteyam’s response sounds different. The vowels are wider and the concoction of sound only swirls into gibberish in your brain. For a moment you believe that you are already so fucked out that your mind has lost the ability to compute words, but then you notice the way he is looking down at Lo’ak instead of you. Lo’ak too responds with foreign sounds that mean nothing to your ears and that is when you realize the brother are speaking English to one another.

It’s not the first time they have used this trick. The language barrier proves itself to be a good tool for discussing your torment or pleasure while you remain anxiously unaware. You hate the way your frustration grows at uselessly trying to decipher their conversation, especially when that infamous smirk returns to Lo’ak’s lips.

“Does our little slut want to be fucked?” Lo’ak coos in a patronizing tone. You rapidly nod your head, dismissing the humiliation of looking so desperate.

“Yes sir! Please need to be fucked, need to be shown my place.” You’re willing to say just about anything at this point to be filled. To finally have the ache in your core blossom into unfathomable euphoria.

“That’s right, babygirl. Aren’t you lucky to have the two of us teaching you how to be a proper cockslut?” Neteyam rubs his thumb along your pulse, applying just enough pressure to coalesce arousal and trepidation.

“Y-yes yes thank you.” Your lips chase after the first sight of dark blue skin you see. Your kisses barely reach his cheek as you are still held in place by the firm grip on your neck.

“How about a deal, mama?” You suddenly notice that Lo’ak is back on his feet, towering over you. You are trapped between the two of them against the tree, only a small window allowing you to see the continuing festival in the distance. A set of hands make quick work of unknotting your loincloth, tossing away the offensive garment. You immediately feel the light breeze along your slick covered petals, reminding you of how vulnerable you are now.

They lead you towards a stump and Neteyam sits down promptly before pulling you to straddle one of his thighs, facing away from him. You squeak as the majority of your weight now rests on your core against the toned muscle. The pressure is overwhelming in your state so you try to lift yourself off, but Neteyam grips your hips and pulls you back down before you can escape.

“Not so fast, babygirl.” He chuckles. “Show us how good you can ride my thigh then we will give you what you want.”

Your bottom lip is trapped between your sharp teeth. This is new territory. You’ve never tried this before and although you are immensely turned on, you begin to worry that this won’t be enough to push you over the edge.

“Seem like a good deal, mama?” Lo’ak kneels down in front of you, tying his hair back into his infamous ponytail. You go to protest but the words are caught in your throat as Neteyam unexpectedly flexes his thigh. The slight shift of muscle drags against your clit, eliciting a small moan to take the place of your disagreeance.

“Good girl.” Lo’ak purrs.

Neteyam’s hands guide you along the smooth skin of his thigh, the effect bringing a wave of pleasure bursting through your core. After not being touched for a few hours, it’s a great relief to have some sort of contact to the sensitive folds. He guides the motion in long strokes, flexing the muscles at random points to hear your moans increase in volume. Lo’ak watches the way your body arches beautifully with every rock of your hips. Eventually seeing the phenomenon is not enough for the younger Sully so he captures your lips in his, loving the way you breath harshly into his mouth.

Their large hands maneuver your body easily until it is obvious that even on top you are not in control. Neteyam’s thigh is covered in your sweet slick, providing natural lube for your journey along the aqua skin. The wet noises of your pussy mix into a melody with your shaky breaths and squeaky moans.

“Making such a fucking mess, sevin.” Neteyam’s deep baritone cusps around the back of your neck. Your breath catches when Lo’ak swipes the shells away to greedily cup your breasts. “Wonder what your little admirer would say if he saw you like this. See how desperate you are just to ride my thigh.”

The dirty praises bring another round of sweet whimpers into the air. You had forgotten about Aonung and the shame you felt having the brothers feel you up in public but now that worry has resurfaced into something else, a filthy fantasy you didn’t know you had. Neteyam chuckles darkly at your reaction. His hand wraps around your braid, forcing your neck to crane back, accentuating the dramatic curve of your body.

“You like that idea, don’t you babygirl?” Your legs are already shaking from the strain of rutting yourself back and forth. The hands digging into your hips are the only things that keep your momentum going. “Want everyone to see what a good little slut you are for us, huh?”

Incoherent noises surface as a response as you feel your orgasm quickly approaching. Tendrils of sensitivity are already lacing your core, the drag of your clit against the hard muscle becoming borderline overwhelming. A sharp slap to your ass has your eyes snapping open to the scene again.

“Neteyam asked you a question, mama. Don’t be rude.” Lo’ak reprimands you.

“Y-yes sir, I do.” You whimper. Neteyam finally releases your braid. Your head spins as you are back to facing forward. The trees seem to curve and morph into the night sky, dark edges becoming thicker around your vision.

“Ah ah ah hang in there, mama. Don’t go passing out on us.” Lo’ak gently pats your cheek, bringing your vision back into focus. “We just started after all.” He chuckles.

The pace picks up, strong hands digging into your soft sides to keep you going. Any thought outside of your need to cum drifts away, only leaving enough mental energy to chase your oncoming high. Words of encouragement ring in your ears, even though your body has become pliant as Neteyam and Lo’ak do the work. The familiar tightening sensation in your stomach returns but this time with the hope of release.

“Come on, babygirl. Cum all over my thigh. Give it to me.” Neteyam’s dark growl is feral and enough to bring sweet euphoria to the front of your mind. Your body convulses and shakes seemingly down to your very bones as you decorate his thigh with your release. The forced rocking motion draws your climax out until you are whimpering and trying to escape the oversensitivity.

Strong arms slip around your waist, pulling you back flush against Neteyam’s chest. The simple motion against your core has another whimper surfacing. You can feel the strings of cum and arousal connecting your core to his thigh lewdly.

“Good girl. What a pretty mess you are.” The thick timber of his voice anchors you in the moment, the only sensation your overwhelmed nerves can focus on. It takes a few moments for your pleasure-addled brain to rejuvenate, finally remembering where you are. Your lazy vision drags along the scene until spotting the glowing flames from the festival past the trees. The crowd has moved on from eating to dancing and weaving intricate songs of drums and vocals.

You wonder if the noise was enough to drown out your climactic screams.

There is a loss of heat when you are gently handed off to Lo’ak. Your protests are short lived when you regain the comfort in his arms instead. Sitting on the younger Sully’s lap you can see the clear shimmer along Neteyam’s thigh.

“Why don’t you help Neteyam out and clean up your mess, mama?” Lo’ak whispers the command cloaked as a suggestion in your ear.

Neteyam watches with glowing hooded eyes as the flat of your tongue dances across his skin. You can taste your own juices but the real pleasure comes from tracing the lines and curves of his toned muscles. Regardless of whether or not you have sufficiently cleaned him up you start to focus on worshiping his body instead. You hungrily lace his inner thighs with open mouthed kisses that have him twitching. Small hands explore the expanse of his legs and thighs, no efforts to conceal your lust.

A hummed groan releases into the air and you are unsure of which brother it came from but it spurs you on anyway. Neteyam is gracious enough to allow you to leave a few small hickeys along his inner thighs. However, when you try to focus your efforts on the bulge in his loincloth he stops you. Gentle fingers twist in your hair, guiding you to look up at him.

Your pout has returned.

“But you sai-”

Lo’ak’s fingers spreading your folds cut off the sentence abruptly, rough pad of his forefingers finding your clit quickly. He rubs the sensitive bundle of nerves slowly. Watching the way your already puffy clit shrivels at the touch.

“We said we’d give you what you want, mama, but you have to trust us. Good girls don’t act greedy.” The words barely register in your brain when two of his fingers slip into your heat. Neteyam chuckles and pets at your hair as you are limp against his thigh. Lo’ak doesn’t start slow, knowing you are already warmed up enough as it is. The tips of fingers mercilessly rub against your g spot until you are trembling.

The combination brings up memories of Lo’ak tormenting you earlier that day.

Afraid of a repeat, you scramble to get ahead of the situation.

“Lo’ak! Please sir, can I have your cock?! B-been thinking about it all day I need it!” The words tumble out of your mouth as you strain to press your body back against him. The movement allows him to reach a new angle with his fingers. Your face pinches together in bliss, ignoring the humiliation that comes from the position you are in.

“Aw yawne, you’re already cockdrunk? Can’t have you suffering now can we?” His feigned caring tone only lasts for a moment before you can feel the head of his cock sliding across your petals. More pleas leave your lips but they are unnecessary when he starts to slip past the rim. The stretch of your walls around his thick length is overwhelming.

Lo’ak’s eyes roll to the back of his head as he finally manages to sheath himself fully in your tight cunt. The way your heat hugs him so perfectly has him already longing to rut into you without mercy. When he sees the pure bliss that laces your features his self control snaps and an unbreakable pace begins.

Neteyam cradles your face in his hands, watching every flicker of emotion in your expression. You take each thrust obediently, pushing your hips backwards to provide better access. Neteyam revels in the sight of you. Pliant between them as Lo’ak fucks into you brutally. When tears trail from the corners of your blue eyes, Neteyam coos and wipes them away with the pad of his thumb. He takes a mental picture of your wrecked state, body trembling and overwhelmed, hair a tangled mess and cheeks wet with tears. And yet you still take more.

Always the perfect girl for them.

“Open.” Dark blue fingers tap your cheeks. Eyes barely fluttering open, you wrench your jaw apart and stick your pink tongue out. Neteyam spits into your open mouth, the substance landing on your tongue. You swallow the spit eagerly, another tangible reminder of his claim on you. Knowing the drill, you present your tongue to prove you’ve swallowed. Your stomach flutters at the look of pride Neteyam gives you.

Soon the sound of Lo’ak’s pelvis colliding with your ass is mixed with your screechy moans. They hover above the other chants and calls of the celebration.

“Sh babygirl. I know you want everyone to know how good his cock feels but we shouldn’t disturb their fun.”

In the midst of thrusting Lo’ak manages to grasp your discarded loincloth and throw it to his older brother. Neteyam is quick to understand the meaning while you are absolutely delirious and pleasure drunk between them. When Neteyam tells you to open your mouth once more you become excited, thinking he will spit in it again or better yet, finally let you suck him off. A shocked whine vibrates from your throat when soft balled up fabric is forced into your mouth instead.

Your tongue pushes at the fabric, trying to get it out. Seeing the struggle, Lo’ak plants his pelvis to your ass before reaching forward to force the fabric back into your mouth. Your curly hair bounces with the shake of your head, earning a sharp pinch to one of your nipples.

“What’s wrong, mama? Though you liked taking it from both ends.” Lo’ak’s teasing makes you whimper and pout around the gag, a sight that Neteyam gleefully enjoys. He mentally curses himself for not bringing the polaroid camera he stole from the lab. He knows that this view would provide a perfect shot to add to his little collection of you. In his eyes, you never look more beautiful than when you are on your knees between his legs, lidded eyes barely showing your blown out pupils.

You stop fighting the gag, giving in to the blissful stretch and stroking of Lo’ak’s member inside your pussy. It’s hard to think about anything else, especially when Neteyam takes away the task of even holding your head up. His large hands are warm against your soaked cheeks and those amber eyes send goosebumps along your skin.

When fingers trail around your hip and back to your clit, you start to come undone. Your lips stretch around the fabric, gaping to try and form muffled words. Although none of it is close to coherent, Lo’ak can tell from the way you grip his cock what you are trying to communicate.

“I’m right behind you, sevin. Don’t hold back.” The younger Sully grunts shifting to get a deeper angle. Your ears drop backwards as the all consuming sensation takes you over again. “Damn!” Lo’ak grits out between sharp teeth as you almost painfully squeeze around him.

The climax takes everything out of you. Your muscles burn and your core now aches in a new way. You collapse against them, letting Lo’ak use your pussy to chase his own high. The night air feels harsh in your lungs as it comes in small steam through your nose. The loincloth is drenched in your own saliva, small strings slipping past the corners of your mouth.

“Taking me so well, mama. Look so pretty.” Your heart siezes with the sweet praises from the younger brother and its the motivation you need to hang on. When the familiar warm ropes of seed paint your inner walls, a wave of relief washes over you. The filling of your womb is somehow comforting, a sweet partner to the gentle trace of Lo’ak’s fingertips on your bare back.

The window swallows your whimper of protest when Lo’ak slips out. You are held between them when finally the cloth is taken out, a line of saliva connecting it to your swollen lips. You preen when Neteyam leans down and presses a chaste kiss to those lips. He carefully unties the shell top from around your torso, helping you to get more comfortable. It is only when he is leaning forward to do so that you notice the outline of his aching cock in his loincloth, reminding you of your original objective.

“Neteyam,” He looks down to see your head resting sweetly along his inner thigh, voice breathy and sincere. “I want it.”

Neteyam sighs, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear.

“I don’t know, sevin. You’ve already almost passed out once. Let’s not push it.”

Lo’ak snorts, before rolling his eyes.

“Bro, you’re too soft.” Neteyam's soft gaze sharpens into a glare that is directed at his brother. Lo’ak doesn’t so much as flinch. “She’s literally asking for it. You really gonna say no to that face?” He squishes your cheeks together and puts on his own mocking pout as you both look up at him. Were it a circumstance where your brain isn’t morphed by post orgasmic bliss you might have laughed at the scowl that crosses Neteyam’s features at the teasing. Now, you can only bat your eyelashes up at him sleepily.

“Shut up and let her go.” Neteyam snaps, batting Lo’ak’s hands away. “Come here, babygirl.”

It’s clear his resolve has crumbled but you don’t give him the chance to change his mind. Trembling fingers undo his loincloth and eagerly toss it away. His length slaps softly against his stomach, obviously aroused from the turn of events. It baffles you to think that Neteyam was willing to let himself go unattended to, worrying about your well being instead.

This realization ignites a determination to take care of him. To bring him the same euphoric pleasure he is so willing to give you.

Neteyam shuts his eyes as you leave sweet kisses and kitten licks along the shaft and head. His cock twitches, bringing a sleepy but triumphant grin to your lips. Although your jaw aches and sleep tugs at the back of your eyes, you push through and wrap your lips around the head. You can feel the deep rumble that comes from his chest when you finally sink down till your nose is pressed to his navel.

It’s not an easy fit. Your throat contracts around the girth and your gag reflex is already on the brink of acting up. Still, the heavenly moan that trickles from his lips is reward enough.

You gag around his length, forcing yourself to go up and down in smooth strokes. The ache in your cheeks from holllowing them only increases as his hips start to buck up into your mouth. It’s clear that he’s been on the edge for a while now. Every time the head of his cock hits the back of your throat, your heavy eyelids threaten to droop closed.

“Not sleepy time yet, babygirl.” Neteyam chuckles, patting your cheeks to signal your eyes to open.

Neteyam gets lost in your glassy eyes, kept open and looking up at him by sheer will. You’re always so obedient for him. Doing everything in your power to bring him pleasure even when your little body can barely take the strain. This cacophony of thought mixed with the tight convulsing around him is what pushes him over the edge.

You choke in surprise when white ropes of cum sputter into your mouth. Lo’ak is quick to hold your head down so none of Neteyam’s seed is lost. Barely hanging onto consciousness, you manage to swallow down the sticky substance.

The night air is filled with the mixture of yours and Neteyam harsh breathing, his thumb pushing any lost cum past your lips. Fucked out beyond repair, you don’t try to fight it when Lo’ak collects you in his arms. His shoulder acts as a good pillow as you snuggle into the crook of his neck. Sweet praises drift into the last grasps you have on reality.

Unbeknownst to you, the brothers spot a figure at the edge of the trees, his eyes caught on the sleeping form in the younger Sully’s arms.

Aonung

“Hey cuz.” Lo’ak smirks.

Taglist: @pandorxxx @neteyamtesuli

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