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tallulah477 · 6 months

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Hunting the Tawtute

Kinktober Day 19: Threesome

Pairing: Neteyam x Fem!Human!Reader x Lo’ak

Warnings: AgedUp!Neteyam, AgedUp!Lo’ak, Dark!Neteyam, Dark!Lo’ak, ***NON-CON***, Dub-Con, Primal Kink (Hunter/Prey Kink), Oral (female receiving and male receiving), P in V, Fingering, Handjob, Breath Play, Dirty Talk, Size Difference, Belly Bulge, Alien Genitalia, Slight Knife Play, Multiple Orgasms, Bukkake, Hair Pulling, Slight Humiliation, Slight Thigh Riding, Knots/Knot Play (but no actual knotting), Marking Kink/Biting

Word Count: 5.4K (of pure self-indulgent fantasy)

A/N: I don’t even know what to say about this. This one kinda like so fucking much got away from me. It’s like I went crazy, blacked out, and this happened. Hopefully some of you guys will like it too as much as I liked writing it.

Summary: When the Omatikaya raid an RDA outpost, you just barely escape the carnage with your life. You're stumbling through the forest when they find you, and the dark grins on their faces make shivers run down your spine. You try to run, but they’ll catch you - they’re little beautiful prey.

Extra: Pretty, But Not Stupid

**PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS - DON'T LIKE, DON'T READ**

Translations:

Tawtute - Human

Mountain Banshee - Large, dragon-like aerial predators

Sevin - Pretty

Vrrtep - Demon

Paskalin - Sweet Berry (term of endearment)

The ground is shaking underneath you as you run, booming with the force of the explosions and gunfire racking the now nonexistent RDA outpost. You can still hear the screaming, both war cries and cries of terror, echoing through the forest as your tired legs carry you further and further away.

You’re gasping for breath, heart feeling like it's going to pound out of your chest as you sob. You hated the RDA, they were mostly all power hungry assholes anyway, but some people in the outpost were good - innocent people who fled Earth just to get away from the horror there, only to be met with a fate possibly crueler here. All the cooks, cleaners, and medical professionals who just wanted a chance - all dead within minutes of the start of the emergency alarm that blared through the base. If not by the explosions, then currently being picked off without mercy by the Na’vi.

You’re lucky to even be alive right now.

You shake your head, trying to ignore how your heavy, panicked breathing is fogging up your mask and how you can barely see through your tears. You need to keep going. You can’t think about it now. Can’t think about the carnage you're running from and the people you’re leaving behind. You need to find safety.

You run a little further, trying not to trip on any more upturned roots. You fell over one a little ways back, and your ankle protests the more weight you put on it, but the fear of being found and killed keeps you going. You quickly round another tree and stop, bracing your hand on the bark of the massive trunk and lifting your hurt ankle up a bit just to relieve the pressure for a moment. Your eyes hurriedly scan the area, trying to keep an eye out for danger you wouldn’t even be able to defend yourself against. Even if you did have some kind of a weapon (which you don’t, you barely had enough time to sprint away with your life as it was, let alone grab any kind of form of defense), you wouldn’t be able to win against the strength and prowess of one of the natives anyway.

A sharp gasp leaves your lips when your eye catches movement a few trees down from you. There’s a male Na’vi standing there, long braids still swinging around his shoulders from his abrupt movement, and he has an arrow notched and pulled back, strong muscles and chest bulging behind the bow as he steadies the arrow - the arrow that’s pointed directly at you.

“Wait!” You yell, hands instinctively coming up to protect your face as if they could ever stop the Na’vi sized arrow. “Wait! Please, don’t shoot!”

The male stops, curious amber eyes locked on your trembling figure, and to your complete shock, he lowers the arrow. Why isn’t he killing you? The Na’vi kill humans on sight, they don’t hesitate. You should have been dead the second he saw you. But you’re not. He lowered his arrow, and for a brief moment relief and hope flood your chest.

“I mean you no harm,” You call, voice shaking. “Please, don’t k-kill me,”

The male tilts his head at you and you watch cautiously as he puts his bow away, reattaching it to his back, before reaching up to touch his throat. From this distance you can just see the outline of a necklace. A throat comm, you think. He has his fingers pressed against the buttons and you can’t hear what he’s saying, but you see his lips moving as he talks to whoever is on the other line.

A dark smirk curls at his lips as he speaks. He’s looking directly at you and whatever hope you had disappears as dread fills your entire being.

You are going to die.

You can’t stay here, staying still even as he’s watching you is a risk. If you’re going to die, you’re at least going to go down trying to live.

You turn to run, making it just a few steps away from the tree before the canopy bursts above you, a roaring shriek piercing your ears as a large blue and purple mountain banshee descends down towards the forest floor. You scream, falling back on your ass as the dragon-like animal lands just feet from you, the wind from its strong wings beating over your body and making your hair whip around your face.

The banshee’s rider descends from its back, landing on the ground with a thud and disconnecting his neural queue from the animal. He stalks towards you, golden eyes gleaming behind a few loose braids falling in front of them, and he grins, long pointed canines biting into his bottom lip.

“Where you running to, sevin tawtute?”

With another terrified sob, you scramble to your feet. The second Na’vi’s low chuckle, despite being fairly quiet, rings loudly in your ears, and you can hear the footsteps of the first’s getting closer and closer to you each second.

“Don’t do it,” The second warns, and you don’t even have the mental capacity to realize that he’s speaking to you in English. You’re already spinning and darting away in the opposite direction.

You run as fast as you can through the dense Pandorian forest. They’re chasing you, you can hear their footsteps pounding against the forest floor behind you. They mock you, first just making quick yipping and whooping calls, communicating with each other in a way you would never even begin to understand. And then they switch to your language.

“Better run faster, human!”

“Getting tired already, baby?”

“Can you feel my breath on the back of your pretty neck?”

“We’re going to get you!”

Your sobs get louder, terrified as you try to push yourself harder. They sound so close, like they’re right behind you, like they could just reach out and grab you. But they don’t. They’re playing with you. They’re faster than you, their legs significantly longer than yours and more adept at running and navigating the forest terrain. They’re letting you keep going on purpose, finding glee in your terror and enjoyment in chasing their prey.

Your ankle is aching, pain shooting from the twisted limb, and your running is quickly turning into panicked hobbling. You can’t do it anymore. Can’t do it - they’re going to get you. Without thinking, you dive under a slightly uprooted tree - the tilt of the base giving you just enough room to crawl under the trunk, thick roots caging you in and separating you from the two male Na’vi.

The second you make it through, there’s a burst of movement as the long haired male slides in front of the opening, long arm sticking through the roots and reaching for you. You whimper when his fingers brush your mask and you try to scoot yourself further back against the dirt, but there isn’t much room.

“Come out of there,” He says, voice soft like he’s trying to coax you out, but the underlining reverb of a growl taints the attempt. “It’s dangerous under there,”

“Yes, tawtute,” The other says, long legs visible from behind his brother’s upper body. “Much safer out here with us,”

You can’t help the anger and frustration that wells inside you as you hear the absolute lie they are trying to tell you.

“Bullshit,” You spit.

The long haired male removes his reaching arm and peers at you through the roots, eyes alight with mirth. “Oh, you hear that, brother? Our little vrrtep has a mouth on her,”

The other male chuckles and squats down to peer at you through your self imposed cage. “And what a pretty mouth it is. Can’t wait to see what else it can do,”

Your eyebrows scrunch together in confusion. That sounded . . . suggestive. That couldn’t possibly mean what it sounded like, right?

“What do you say, sevin? Want your gorgeous lips wrapped around my cock?” He asks, playful fingers lifting up the front of his loincloth slightly as if to tease you. And then, suddenly, there’s a new fear taking over.

They don’t want to catch you to kill you - they want you.

“My name is Lo’ak,” He continues, lifting his hand from his loincloth to wiggle his fingers at you in greeting. Five fingers, you notice. “You know, just so you know what to scream out later when I’m fucking you,”

More tears well up in your eyes, cascading down your flushed cheeks. “P-please. Don’t hurt m-me,” You beg, wide eyes pleading with the large blue men holding you hostage to show you mercy. “I’ll leave! I promise! You’ll never see me again,”

“She begs so beautifully already,” The other male says, nudging his brother’s arm. “She’s gonna sound so good when she’s crying in pleasure. Go ahead and try it out for me, paskalin. Let me hear you say it: Neteyam,”

Neteyam looks at her expectantly, golden green eyes dark from where his pupils have nearly completely taken over.

“Fuck you,” You hiss. You try to put as much malice and ferocity in your words as you can muster, but Neteyam only grins at your curse.

“Yeah, tawtute. That’s the idea,”

Lo’ak suddenly moves, shifting over to the side of the tree and you panic at the abrupt movement, scrambling over and pressing your back against the roots on the opposite side just to be as far from him as possible.

“Come on out, baby,” He purrs, eyes hooded as he stares at you. “Don’t you want to take a ride? Feel some big alien cock in your pretty, tiny pussy?”

You open your mouth again to shoot some more choice expletives at him, but all that comes out is a scream when the roots behind you rip and a large hand grips at your hair, dragging your body from its hiding spot and into the dimming light of the forest.

Neteyam hauls you up on your feet, fist tangled in your hair keeping you from running and grabs one of your swinging arms, pinning it behind your back. Lo’ak steps in front of you, tall and imposing at nearly twice your height, but you still try to fight, fight for your life and your freedom, and your hand smacks as hard as it can against his hip.

It doesn’t do anything to him obviously, you’re not even sure if he felt it, but all the fight leaves you in an instant when the large knife the size of your forearm waves in your face.

“You’re gonna be a good girl for us now, okay?” He says, tapping the glass of your mask with the tip of his knife as if he were trying to boop your nose. The tip of the knife travels down your neck, over your collarbone, and towards the center of your chest. If you were able to think correctly, you would be amazed at the control he has over the blade to not let it cut you despite your chest heaving with your frantic breathing. “Stay still now,”

The knife travels towards the valley between your breasts, taking the neck of your t-shirt with it and pulling it down and down until Lo’ak just cleanly slices through the whole front of it. Neteyam releases your arm now that you're not fighting against them anymore, but still keeps a firm grip on your hair. The ruined shirt slips from your shoulders and Lo’ak brings the knife back up to hook underneath the band of your bra, slicing through the material like it was paper and pushing the remnants of that off of your body as well.

“Such a pretty little thing,” He muses, running the flat of the blade across one of your exposed breasts, the cool metal making you shiver as it presses against your heated skin. Lo’ak twists the knife and places the very tip of it at your nipple. The sharp edge makes you gasp, the bud starting to harden immediately at the feeling and you can’t help but feel mortified when you feel wetness pool in your panties.

Lo’ak’s nose twitches, a wicked grin pulling at his lips as his large amber eyes catch yours, but it’s Neteyam that digs the metaphorical knife deeper, furthering your humiliation and making your face burn.

“Aw, is the cute little tawtute getting wet for us? We can smell you,” Neteyam laughs, dragging your head back further so he can get a good look at your face. “Look, brother. Look how flushed she’s getting,”

“You think that flush is going all the way down here?” Lo’ak asks, the tip of the knife leaving your nipple to tease your clit over your shorts.

“Rip them off and find out,” Neteyam suggests, and you start to wriggle again in his unrelenting grasp.

“Wait!” You shout. Your neck is still craned up towards the sky, so you only feel rather than see Lo’ak undo your button and zipper. “Wait, please. I’ll do anything,”

“Yeah,” Neteyam agrees, looking down at your pleading face. His fingers latch onto one of your hard nipples and pulls on it, eliciting a sharp gasp from your plump lips. “You will,”

In an instant, Lo’ak yanks your shorts and panties down and Neteyam moves behind you to kneel on the forest floor, one knee pressing into the ground while the other acts as a stabilizer, foot flat against the ground. Neteyam’s grip on your hair is released as he grabs you by your hips instead, pulling you up to sit on his thigh, bare pussy pressing against the bulging muscles.

The feeling of his muscles tensing under you makes more heat pool in your stomach, and your pussy is wet and sticky already as you squirm against him. Your legs fall on either side of his and even with him kneeling your feet still can’t touch the ground, toes just barely brush against the grass and only if you’re actually stretching to reach it. But the additional stretch just makes you push your cunt harder against his thigh and you whimper, not knowing what to do or how to move.

Neteyam wraps a restraining arm around your chest, trapping one of your arms under his and grabbing onto your other bicep, his large hand practically spanning the entirety of your upper arm and pinning it down. His other hand moves up to his mouth, long middle finger sliding between his lips, licking the long digit and pulling it out when it’s wet and glistening in the setting sunlight. He brings his wet finger to your core, dipping it between your folds and circling your clit.

“So wet already, tawtute,” He whispers, lips brushing against the curve of your ear.

You whimper as he rubs you, dipping his finger down lower to gather more of your wetness and dragging it back up to tease small circles around your pulsing nub. When his fingers trail down again, it's to press at your entrance, and you can’t help the whiny moan that escapes you as his finger slips easily inside your leaking hole.

Lo’ak’s been watching you this whole time, crouching down to get a good, clear look at your glistening pink cunt, and the sight of his brother’s finger sliding inside of you prompts him to have some fun of his own. He stands, fingers moving quickly to untie his loincloth, the material loosening and sliding down his legs, flittering to the ground below him.

You’re distracted, Neteyam’s finger is rubbing against your gummy walls, sliding in and out effortlessly while his thumb plays with your clit, so you don’t realize what’s so wrong with Lo’ak’s body until he’s directly in front of you - naked pelvis and even more naked center only a foot away from your face.

Your eyes widen as you look at it, confusion written all over your face as you stare at the empty, flat space where his member should be. Lo’ak laughs at the bewildered look on your face and Neteyam mouths at your shoulder to hide his own grin.

“Don’t worry, pretty girl,” Lo’ak says. “I’ve got plenty of cock for you. It’s just hidden. I’ll get it out for you since you're a little tied up.”

His fingers reach down to rub at the empty space and you watch in fascinated awe as he plays down there, fingers pressing in harder and sliding against the hidden slit you hadn’t seen before. His fingers dip inside, eyes closing in pleasure for a moment before they flick back open, sultry hooded orbs locked on your own.

“What the f–ahh!” You cry, eyes squeezing shut, back arching in pleasure against Neteyam as another of his fingers pushes inside you. They’re long enough on their own, the combined thickness enough to feel like a cock inside you already.

When your eyes open again, they lock immediately on what’s happening between Lo’ak’s legs. There’s something poking out from the slit and it takes your scared and pleasure hazed brain way too long to realize it’s his cock. It’s just the head peeking out, the mushroomed lavender tip like a bright, slick beacon between his dark blue thighs. He grins when your mouth falls open at the sight, fingers dipping back into his wet slit and pulling out another inch.

Every inch of his cock has your eyes widening, the long and hard length now fully unsheathed and bumping against his belly. Blue skin and even darker stripes litter the shaft, small bioluminescent freckles scatter towards the top and lead to the light purple tip. A fleeting thought has you thinking it's pretty, the colors blending in beautifully with one another, but when you see the textured bumps decorating the entire length, the panic hits you again.

“Let me go!” You scream, fighting against Neteyam’s hold, but hold is firm. “It won’t fit! You can’t! It won’t fit!”

“That’s why we have to stretch you out first,” Neteyam mutters, mouth pressed against your shoulder. His third finger nudges at your entrance and you stop breathing when it pushes against your already stuffed hole. The stretch is intense, your small body struggling to take the invasion as his long finger pushes in beside the others. His thumb rubs lovingly at your clit, distracting you from the stretch and working up the pressure starting to build in your belly.

Lo’ak strokes at his cock, shuffling forward until the weeping tip of it is inches from your face.

“You wanna taste it?” He asks, his other hand gripping onto the bottom of your mask.

You whimper, terrified at the prospect of him pulling your mask off, but can’t get out anything more than a stuttering, “P-please,”

“Be a good girl and hold your breath for me,”

There’s a loud hiss of air as the seal around your face breaks, and then you can’t breathe. Can’t even make a sound when he pulls the mask halfway up your face to free your mouth, letting the bottom of it sit below your nose as he pushes his fingers into the hinges of your jaw to pry your mouth open.

The lavender tip of his cock pushes between your lips, the underside dragging along your tongue. You can feel every bump and ridge as it pushes in further, the texture both unusual and intimidating as it slides against the warm wet muscle.

And then it’s gone, your mask replaced and the burst of oxygen rushing into your lungs makes you feel even more lightheaded than without having any oxygen at all.

“Good girl,” Lo’ak coos, hand once again gripping the bottom of your mask and leaning down to press a sweet kiss against its glass.

Neteyam’s fingers are still working themselves in and out of your stuffed pussy, and you see Lo’ak’s ears twitch a second before you even hear it: the horrible squelching sounds your pussy is making as it rocks against his three fingers.

“Such a good girl,” He grins. He stands up, holding his cock steady and pulling your mask up again, the hiss of air mingling with the wet sounds coming from your drenched cunt. “Let’s go again,”

His cock pushes inside of your mouth again, barbed length sliding against your tongue and nudging the back of your throat. You gag, choking from both lack of oxygen and Lo’ak’s thick cock, and you can barely register the light and strangely sweet taste of his precum as it coats your tastebuds.

Neteyam’s fingers are ruthless inside of you, curling and dragging against your gummy walls with skilled expertise and his thumb is practically a blur on your clit. When Lo’ak replaces your mask and air once again fills your lungs, it's only there for a second before you’re screaming and gasping, the coil in your stomach almost too much to bear as it tightens, threatening to rip you apart when it snaps.

Your screaming is cut off again when Lo’ak lifts the mask away, shoving his cock harder and deeper into your mouth until the glass of your mask is pressing against his pelvis and his cock has slipped down your throat. Your eyes roll into the back of your head as you take it, legs shaking against Neteyam’s thigh. When it's replaced this time and air is once again allowed into your lungs, Neteyam’s teeth latch onto your shoulder, sharp canines digging into the tender skin. The bite brings about a sharp pain immediately followed by a flood of intense pleasure - your body jerks in his hold, shaking violently as the coil in your belly snaps. Your pussy clenches around his fingers, gushing against his hand as your orgasm rips through you without mercy.

“Fuck, you’re so pretty,” Lo’ak grunts, fisting his cock with one hand while checking to make sure your mask is secure with the other.

You mumble a weak reply, but the words don’t make sense, they don’t even sound like real words to your own ears - and your ‘not words’ turn into a forlorn whine as Neteyam pulls his fingers from your still pulsing pussy.

He tilts your upper body to the side, sliding most of you off of him except for your leg still draped over his thigh at the knee while your other foot presses onto the ground, leaving you spread wide. His free hand falls behind you, somewhere around his hip where you can’t see, and then something large and round shaped is nudging between your folds and prodding at your entrance.

“No,” You mewl. “Won’t fit,”

“Shh, be quiet, ma sevin tawtute,” He grunts, pressure pushing at your hole as he starts forwards. “It will fit,”

You take in gasping breaths as the pressure intensifies, dripping hole resisting the push as much as it can before relenting to the large male Na’vi’s wishes and the thick mushroom head of his cock pops inside. Neteyam groans when he breaches you, unwrapping his arm from your upper body and gripping both of your thighs with his large hands, hauling you up and in the air as he stands up.

Your back is pressed tightly against his chest, thighs spread open and vulnerable to Lo’ak’s hungry gaze as gravity pushes you down further on his brother’s cock. You whimper loudly, hands desperately gripping at Neteyam’s forearms as he impales you on him. The bumps on his cock drag without mercy against your sensitive walls, and your right leg shakes in his grip from the overwhelming intensity.

It feels so good, so devastatingly good inside of you, the barbs and ridges sliding just right against your gummy walls and you toss your head back with a silent scream as he bottoms out, tip nudging against your cervix.

You’ve never felt so full before. It feels like he’s all the way in your stomach, cock barreling through your important organs and rearranging your guts just to make enough room for him to fit. You chance a look down, letting out a wailing cry that’s half pleasure, half horror when you see the large bulge protruding from your abdomen.

“Fuck,” Neteyam moans. “She’s so tight,”

Lo’ak grins mischievously as Neteyam lowers his mouth to the side of your neck, pressing gentle kisses there as he starts to rock into you. One moment he’s in front of your face, sending you a cheeky wink when you gasp as the cock inside of you hits just the right angle to brush against your special spot, and then the next he’s crouching down, textured tongue lolling out of his mouth and licking against your swollen clit.

You squeal at the feeling of his rough tongue, textured similarly to that of a cat’s, lapping at the sensitive nub.

“T-too much!” You cry. You can’t close your legs, Neteyam’s hands holding them firmly open as he thrusts harder inside you, and your hands push against Lo’ak’s head, but he doesn’t budge - large head staying put while his tongue continues to swipe against the sensitive bundle of nerves.

When Lo’ak decides he’s had enough, he lifts his head, trailing kisses up your stomach starting just above the disappearing and reappearing bulge in your belly and up your chest, tongue laving over the swell of your breast and latching onto your nipple, sharp teeth nibbling on the hard bud as you yelp.

His lips wrap around it, suckling on it for a moment before pulling off with a pop.

“You taste so good, baby,” He murmurs, reaching down to play with your clit. “Like the sweetest little treat,”

“Feel so good, paskalin,” Neteyam grunts, lifting your body up and slamming it back down on his cock to fuck into your harder. “Snug little pussy squeezing me so well. You were made to take Na’vi cock, weren’t you?”

“Oohh my goooooood,” You moan, eyes rolling back into your head from the overwhelming stimulation. “C-can’t t-take i-itt,”

“Sure you can,” Lo’ak teases, face so close to yours that in your haze all you can see is his bright golden eyes. “Didn’t you hear what he just said?”

Neteyam’s thrusts are getting sloppy, moans and grunts a constant source behind you, and he hisses a quick “Fuck, take her,” at his brother. Before you know what’s happening, you’re suddenly pressed against Lo’ak, chest pressed tightly against his and Neteyam releases one of your thighs in favor of gripping your hip. Lo’ak’s hand cradles your released thigh instead, keeping you steady against him as his brother uses his new found leverage to pound into your tight cunt. Your arms instinctively wrap around Lo’ak’s neck, holding on for dear life as you moan and whimper loudly with the cool glass of your mask pressed against his collarbone.

You can feel the knot in your belly tightening again, and you can’t think about anything other than how impossibly full you feel and how good the ridges and bumps on his cock feel as they scrap and drag inside of you. Neteyam’s grip turns bruising, fingers digging into your hip and thigh as he fucks you harder.

“Who’s pussy is this?” Neteyam growls, mushroomed tip pounding into your cervix. “Go on, tawtute. Say it!”

“Neteyaaamm,” You moan. “Please, please, please,”

Distantly, even through your hazy, fucked out brain, you can feel something thick and round prodding at your entrance, bumping and stretching you out even more with each thrust. You cum, sobbing as you contract tightly around him, body shaking in Lo’ak’s hold as his large hand rubs up and down your back soothingly.

Neteyam pulls out of you with a tortured groan and your eyes flutter shut, pussy still contracting and squeezing and wanting - wanting his long, hard length inside of you again, wanting it splitting you open, and now that it's gone, you can’t believe how empty you feel.

Lo’ak lowers you gently to the ground, resting your exhausted body on the soft moss. You feel the way he pulls your thighs apart again, settling himself between them, what’s left of the setting sunlight filtering in behind your eyelids getting blocked as he hovers over you.

“Stay awake, vrrtep,” He says, smacking your thigh lightly to wake you back up. Your heavy eyes peel themselves open, watching as Lo’ak braces one hand above your head while the other guides his cock to your core. You whimper as he drags the head of his cock through your dripping folds, teasing the tip against your clit before running it down your slit and lining it up with your entrance. “It’s my turn,”

The slide is easier this time as he pushes in, but still no less intense. Your tired and overstimulated body tenses at the intrusion, tightening around him as he spears you open with his thick girth.

“Such a pretty demon,” He moans, pleasure shooting through his veins at the feel of your tiny body hugging his cock like it never wants to let him go. “Tempting us the way you did,”

His hips start up a gentle tempo, rocking inside you to help you get used to his size and letting you feel the pleasurable drag of his barbs against your oversensitive walls.

You whine, denying his comment. “D-didn’t do anyth–”

He silences you with a sharp snap of his hips, upping the rhythm of his thrusts and leaning down further so his pubic bone grinds against your clit with each thrust. Already you can feel another orgasm barreling towards you, threatening to rip you apart the same way his cock is splitting you open.

“Fuck!” You squeal, back arching as your pussy squelches between your bodies. “Oh my god, fuck!”

“Say my name, baby,” Lo’ak grunts. “Wanna hear you moan it,”

“Looo’aaaaak,” You moan, bliss clouding your judgment as your hips buck into his in return.

Out of the corner of your eye you see Neteyam, standing just to the side, watching as his brother fucks your very soul from your body as his hand strokes along his raging length. Your eyes catch on something unusual towards the base of his cock - a thick, round bulb that shouldn’t be there and he smirks as he sees you gaping at it, hand stroking down to the base and squeezing the thick engorged knot of tissue tightly, moaning at the sensation.

Lo’ak thrusts in you harder and you feel that same thick, round ball bumping at your entrance that you felt when Neteyam was fucking you. The same bulbish ball of tissue that must be the same as the one you're looking at right now.

“Great Mother,” Lo’ak groans, face scrunched up in pleasure. “I wanna knot you so fucking bad,”

“Don’t,” Neteyam growls, jerking forward as if to pull his brother away from you, but Lo’ak curls his body around yours protectively, a deep hiss of warning ripping from his throat as he bares his teeth at his brother.

Neteyam freezes, hands up in surrender but he glares at the brother inside you all the same. “Don’t. We don’t know if her body can take it yet.”

Lo’ak grunts, resuming his thrusts. “I know. Just back off,”

His cock pounds you relentlessly, kissing your cervix and his hand reaches down to caress the bulge in your belly. He presses down on the bulging bump firmly at the same time that his teeth sink into the still unmarked side of your neck, making you scream, the blissful agonized cry echoing through the forest as you cream all over his cock.

He pulls out, groaning woefully like his brother did, and fists his cock furiously, aiming the leaking tip directly at your puffy, spent pussy. Neteyam does the same, crouching low and close, stroking his cock beside you as he aims for your chest.

They cum within seconds of one another, shooting hot, thick stripes of pearly bioluminescent cum all over your body, covering your chest and lower half with their release.

You can barely feel your body anymore, can’t move a single limb on your own, and, despite not having any use of anything, your body won’t stop shaking - oversensitive and overstimulated and completely satisfied in a way you never thought you could be.

“Ready to head home, sevin tawtute?” Neteyam asks, breathing heavy as he recovers from his orgasm. He just came but his eyes are still dark and sinful, looking at you like he wants to eat you whole. Your exhausted eyes flick to Lo’ak only to see the same desirous expression.

There’s a feeling of dread in the pit of your stomach as you close your eyes, listening to their dark chuckles as your body forces you to rest. The last thing you hear before you drift off to sleep is a low, deep voice say . . .

“You’re ours now,”

Extra>>>

**Special thanks to @pandoraslxna for the prompt!

Taglist: @eywaite @loaksulluyswife

#lunaskinktober2023 #neteyam x female reader #neteyam x reader smut #neteyam smut #neteyam x reader #neteyam x human reader #lo'ak x female reader #lo'ak x reader #lo'ak smut #lo'ak x human reader #neteyam x reader x lo'ak #tw: noncon #tw: dubcon #tw: dubious consent #tw: non con

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iloveyouemanuelmarco · 13 days

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Random rant/vent from Twitter I wrote that I need to get off my chest since it's been stewing in my brain for awhile now about a certain character from a specific infamous indie pilot turned into a show:

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negans-lucille-tblr · 7 months

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Look What You Made Me Do | Step Dad!Negan | Dark Oneshot

Summary: Negan’s there to welcome home his step-daughter after her first date, but he doesn’t like what she chose to wear, and decides to show her what the consequences of dressing like a slut might be.

Rating: 18+ (Dark smut)

Pairing(s): Step Dad!Negan x Step Daughter!Rachel

WARNINGS: non con, forced sex, step-incest, dirty talking, p in v, daddy kink, forced blowjob, slapping, victim blaming, forced loss of virginity, mentions of blood, crying during sex, pain

WC: ± 2K A/Ns: This was commissioned by the lovely @ruewritesstuff, and it almost made me feral. So enjoy <3

Negan Masterlist || Want your own commission? Find out more here!

Negan’s fingers bounce on the arm of the couch as he watches the time, the second hand on the clock ticking around, the minute hand drawing closer and closer to the twelve. The house is practically silent, not that he’d hear his wife from where he’s sitting, anyway. Their house is fairly large, and there are about four doors closed between them right now. He’d encouraged her to go to bed after her fifth yawn sitting beside him, and he knew it would be a matter of minutes before she was knocked out on the Xanax she needs to take to help her sleep. He’d insisted he could wait up until her daughter returned home from her date, but now he’s growing impatient.

He hadn’t been there, still stuck in work when whatever college boy showed up to take his eighteen year old step-daughter on a date. What business has some college boy got with her, anyway? Negan’s fairly sure she’s a virgin, and she’s not had a boyfriend that he’s been aware of in the two years he’s been in her life. But then Negan scoffs to himself. Of course a college boy would be interested in a naive, virgin senior. Even Negan finds himself interested. But that’s different, because he’s older and wiser, and he can protect her from all the boys that wanna fuck her and leave her heart broken. The thought of someone taking her innocence away and not even having the common decency to call her back makes his skin crawl. Though, if Negan’s truly honest with himself, maybe that’s just the jealousy talking. What he wouldn’t give to be the one to take her innocence, and he’ll be fucked off if some frat boy beats him to it.

He hasn’t gotten his dick wet in months. His wife hasn’t shown an interest since she half assed giving him a handjob on his birthday, and the longer he goes only thinking about sinking his cock into someone as tight and warm as his little girl, the more desperate he is for relief. He would go out and find some random slut to fuck, but he wants to save himself for her, just like she’s been saving herself for him; she just doesn’t know it yet.

Negan’s attention is once again drawn to the clock, and he notices that it’s eleven PM on the dot, and as if on cue, he hears the rumble of a car engine and rises to his feet to see a guy opening his passenger door, and Rachel climbing out of it. She looks good in the mini skirt and shirt she decided to wear, her red hair tied up as Negan imagines wrapping it around his fist as she chokes on his cock, and he grunts when the guy takes her hand and walks her up the garden path to the front door. Negan stalks to the door and opens it just before they can kiss, and he’s secretly elated with his timing, and far less impressed with theirs.

“You’re late,” he grunts out, and Rachel blushes, clearing her throat.

“I’m sorry,” she mumbles.

“It’s my fault, sir, I didn’t realize the time, we were star gazing.”

Negan’s nose crinkles at the very idea of Rachel and this boy laying on some shitty picnic blanket looking up at some fucking stars like they’re in some rom com, bet the pervert even tried to get his hand up her skirt. Maybe he even succeeded, and just the thought has Negan slamming the door in the boy’s face the second Rachel crosses the threshold.

“I’m not even five minutes late,” Rachel argues, narrowing her blue eyes at him.

“I don’t fucking care, late is late,” he growls, noticing her lipstick is far more faded than it probably should be, and he wonders if she wore it off by kissing that low-life, or maybe even worse; sucking his cock. “What the fuck are you even wearing? You look like a whore.”

Rachel looks down her body and tugs on the hem of her skirt, only blushing more violently, and she swallows thickly.

“Mom said I look nice,” she mumbles, looking around as if to seek out her mother.

“Well your Mom doesn’t fucking care if you get fucking raped in the back of some college boy’s shitty Sedan then, does she?”

“Callum wasn’t like that,” Rachel insists, stubbornly. “He didn’t even kiss me.”

“Yeah fucking right,” Negan scoffs. “Look at the fuckin’ state of you,” he growls, reaching out to smear her lipstick some more. “Bet you sucked his cock the whole fucking ride home.”

“What?” Rachel blinks, shaking her head as horror washes over her face at the very accusation. “No, nothing like that happened, I’m still a virgin.”

“Mhm,” Negan nods, pretending to believe her, the idea that she might not be only making him angrier. “Of course you fucking are. You think you can fuckin’ lie to me?”

“I’m not lying, Negan, I swear,” she whimpers, tears filling her eyes. “This was only our first date… my first date,” she explains.

“Well if you didn’t fuck him you were still fuckin’ asking for it,” Negan accuses. “Weren’t you?” He prompts, making her shake her head. “Of course you were, look at you,” he goads, reaching forward, playing with the slightly open neckline of her shirt. “Your tits are fucking hanging out, and your skirt is so fucking short, I can nearly see your panties, if you’re even wearing any.”

He can’t help himself from lifting her skirt to find out for sure, and sure enough he can see simple white cotton panties, and she whimpers, pressing her thighs together. Instantly, his cock begins to harden, and he resists the very real urge to tear the cotton from her body and bend her over the couch, fucking into her so hard she’ll feel him for days. Maybe he should do that, maybe then she’ll think twice about letting some random boy take her out.

“Do you even fucking know what you’re doing?” he asks. “Do you fucking know all those thoughts you put into men’s heads when you dress like this?” Rachel weakly shakes her head, and Negan’s cock only throbs harder. He reaches for her hand and instantly presses it against his crotch. “This. This is what you fucking do to us. Do you think I want to be this fucking hard for my own step-daughter?” Rachel’s tears now stream down her cheeks as she shakes her head and her hand trembles beneath his. “No, of course I fucking don’t, but you don’t fucking care about that, do you? You just want to wear your slutty little clothes, and it’s gonna get you into real fucking trouble one day, sweetheart. Maybe I should teach you a lesson. On your fucking knees.”

Rachel is now crying aloud as she slowly lowers herself to her knees, and Negan wastes no time freeing his aching cock from his jeans, reaching down to once again take her hand and force her to wrap it around his cock. He works her hand up and down his shaft to show her what to do, but quickly realizes she won’t do it unaided, so he keeps his hand wrapped around hers.

“I’m sorry, Daddy, I’m sorry,” she begins to sob, and Negan grunts at the feeling of her skin on his, and the sound of ‘Daddy’ on her lips like that’s going to save her. But the name only turns him on more.

“You fuckin’ will be,” he promises, “Open that mouth.” She whines, squeezing her eyes shut, and Negan instantly reaches forward and tugs her hair hard, slapping her across the face, making her cry out in pain. “I said open that fucking mouth.”

With a shaky jaw, Rachel complies, and he wastes no time pushing his cock into her mouth, fucking into the back of her throat, making her gag and splutter around him, spit already indignantly dribbling down her chin and front as it mixes with her tears.

“Look what you made me do,” he snarls, gasping for breath with each punch at the back of her throat. Fuck, this feels better than he could’ve imagined. “This is all your fault and you fuckin’ know it.”

Rachel continues to cry, but the sound of it only seems to stir Negan on more, his cock throbbing between her lips, and when he pulls back completely she gasps and splutters for air, dry heaving.

“Time to find out if you were fucking lying,” Negan tells her, yanking her to her feet by her arm, shoving her over to the couch as she stumbles. He spins her around and forces her to bend over the arm of the couch, throwing her skirt over her ass, seeing that the white cotton panties are actually a thong, and her round, bare ass is right there for him.

“Rachel,” he tuts, disappointment dripping off of his tongue. “Who the fuck do you think you are wearing panties like this, hm? You think you’re a big fucking girl, don’t you?”

Rachel doesn’t reply, she just continues to cry, and Negan eagerly pulls the material to one side, exposing her pink, unused pussy, all tight and closed up, yet to be ruined or spoiled by anyone. He’s going to be the first, and if he gets his way, the last, too.

“Have you ever touched yourself?” he asks, looking at the back of her head for any sign of a reply. She doesn’t reply, which gives him his answer. “Have you fucked yourself with toys before? I bet a fucking whore like you has toys.” She shakes her head ‘no’ this time. “Fingers?” Another shake of her head tells Negan everything he needs to know. “Poor baby girl, you have no fucking idea what you’ve gotten yourself into.”

Negan spits on his fingers and roughly pushes them between her folds, forcing them inside her as she screams, and he rushes to cover her mouth with his free hand. Not that her mother will hear her through all those walls and Xanax. Such a shame. He forcibly fucks into her cunt with his fingers, scissoring them in a bid to open her up just enough to take his cock, but he’s doubtful he’s going to fit without a lot of force. He’s still willing to try, though. He spits onto his cock, once again spitting on his fingers too, spreading the wet around her slightly opened hole.

“No, no no no,” Rachel starts to panic, reaching back to push him away, but Negan’s strong enough to have her trapped there, and even when she tries to stand back up, he only has to push down on her back to get her to double over once again. “Please don’t, please, I’m a virgin, Daddy, please,” she begs.

“Imagine this was Callum, hm?” he reminds her, teasing the tip of his cock against her tight opening, wondering if he’s going to manage to get inside. He pushes forward, making her scream once again, his hand once more silencing her. “It could’ve been. Could’ve fucking raped you on his backseat. Dropped you home with his cum dripping down your fucking legs and never called you again. You would’ve been just some dumb fucking whore he got to fuck,” he snarls, getting inch by inch inside her slowly. Blood smears over his length and he smirks at the sight, happy to have taken his little girl’s virginity. “You’re fuckin’ lucky it’s me, sweetheart,” he tells her. “You’re fucking lucky it’s someone who loves you.”

Want me to write your idea? Find out more here!

#look what you made me do #step dad!negan #step daughter #step incest #tw: incest #tw: non con #dark fic #smut #angst #twd fanfic #ooc negan #jeffrey dean morgan #fanfic #negans-lucille-tblr #commission #oneshot #negan x oc

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mystinkylefttoe26 · 21 days

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Horror Movie-Neil Lewis

cw : ! perv!neil, kinda dumb-reader, non-con/dub-con, stepbrother!neil, cheating ?, sitting on lap

summary: your mom was freshly married and going on honeymoon vacation leaving you alone with your weird stepbrother Neil

„bye kids have fun !” your mom shouts happily while leaving with your stepdad.

your moms out the house and your left alone with your weird geek of a stepbrother

neil lewis

„great” you sigh as you turn around. „so you got any plans for today ?” neil asks you, „no what about you ?”

„neither, but i have an idea waht we can do lets watch a horror movie.“

„uh yeah sure“ you respond kinda unsure.

„you sure your not gonna be scared kid ?“ Neil asks raising a brow at you.

„no pff i’ll be fine“, „ok, you know what lets make a bet.“ Neil says „a bet ?“

„yeah, i bet your not gonna be able to handle it“. „oh ok, i bet your gonna be more scared than me”

„ok and if you or me wins we get to decide our reward.” you suggest already thinking about making him do your chores

„hmm, so i get to decide whatever kind of reward i want ?” Neil asks. „yeah”

Neil grinned already imagining his options — if he won, he could make you aka his cute step sister do basically anything he wanted.

you hopped on the sofa while neil inserted the dvd.

A couple minutes in and your already regretting it, the horror movie was wayy scarier than you imagined and also way bloodier.

Neil smirked sensing your discomfort.

15 minutes later and you couldn’t handle it anymore, at a particularly scary jumpscare you jumped on Neil burying your face in his chest.

„ey, you ok doll ?” „mhmm, just scared” you whispered having completely forgotten about the bet now.

„it’s okay,just stay close to me i’ll protect ya” Neil said while wrapping his arm around your shoulder and pressing you even closer against him.

truthfully neil liked this he liked feeling like he was protecting you…almost like he was your boyfriend.

„your cute when your all scared like this” neil teased you. „shut up” you mumble.

"Were you that scared you needed to press your face in my chest ?" he continued teasing.

you simply nod shyly.

"Aww, did the scary movie get you all scared?" Neil teased, his tone dripping with mock sympathy as he spoke.

He was starting to enjoy this... a lot. The idea of his stepsister being so scared that she needed to cling to him felt... intoxicating.

"You know," he added, his tone now even more teasing. "You'd look even cuter if you pressed your face into my chest again during the next jump scare, you know that?"

and almost like he predicted, the next jump-scare had you hiding away again and pressing yourself against him again.

neil smirked as you pressed your face into his chest again. Yes... that was a cute reaction.

Neil was really starting to feel powerful here.

He had you right where he wanted you — scared, nervous, and clinging to him for comfort.

He couldn't help but think about how he could use this situation to his advantage.

"Oh my, so scared," he teased.

"You gotta get all close to me like that? Poor, scared stepsister..."

Neil smiled playfully, looking down at you.

"So scared, you gotta hide yourself from the big, scary movie?" he asked, still trying to make his voice sound playful.

„n-neil stop making fun of me” you pout while looking at him with big eyes.

"What? I'm not making fun of you," Neil said playfully.

He was tempted to lean in closer, but Instead, he just kept talking.

"It's adorable, really," he added, his tone still playful.

"You see a scary movie and immediately have to hide behind your stepbrother," he added.

"It's pretty cute."

"You're like a little kid," Neil continued teasingly.

"Aww, you're so innocent and scared. Don't worry, I'm here."

He smirked to himself. The idea that you were clinging to him for protection was a turning him on.

"I'll keep protecting you and making sure you're safe, okay? You don't need to freak out anymore."

„o-ok”

„you know what how about you stay close to me for the rest of the movje hm ?” neil suggested, while rubbing your arm up and down.

„ok that makes sense” you reply with a shaky voice.

„mhmm be a good girl for me”

The film was coming to its climax, the most intense part, and you were looking pretty miserable. your whole body was shaking now.

One particularly gruesome, bloody scene came up, and you started trembling even more.

"Still doing alright?" Neil asked casually, leaning in even closer to you. He couldn't help but savor this moment a little bit.

„You're handling this movie really well, considering how scared you were at the beginning," he added, grinning playfully.

„you're doing so good," Neil said playfully, his tone dripping with condescending mock sympathy.

He was enjoying watching you struggle.

"You're so brave for handling all this violence and gore!" he teased mockingly.

Neil could tell you were almost at your limit you were starting to shake even harder so close to just throwing your whole face directly into his chest — which, of course, was his plan all along.

you wanted to do it. you wanted to bury your face in his chest, to feel protected.

you were this close to snapping, and Neil was gonna keep this up for as long as humanly possible.

"Oh, you're so fearless!" he mocked.

you kept pressing youd body against his, getting closer and closer to him,desperate for comfort.

Neil started to wonder if you were consciously aware of what you were doing. Or if it was just an automatic response out of fear.

The ending of the movie was approaching quickly now. The last few minutes of the movie consisted of a pretty intense and bloody shootout.

you were clinging tightly to him you breathing getting quicker and shorter now.

Neils hands had moved down to your hips, just to make sure you stayed in place. He didn't want to give you an opportunity to move away from him in the last minutes.

„neil ?” you asked, truthfully feeling scared and uncomfortable now.

"Hmm?"

Neil was caught off guard by your voice.

He kept his demeanor casual, though. He didn't want to let you know how intense he felt in this situation.

"You okay?" he finally asked.

„no…uhm…can i call my boyfriend over ?”

Neil felt his mood change in an instant when he heard that.

"Your... boyfriend?"

He'd expected you to come up with an excuse to leave, but he hadn't predicted that one.

„yeah…”

"No. You can't."

Neil's voice shifted from playful to serious, and his expression was cold now.

"You're not doing that right now," he added.

„oh uhm…ok”

„You're staying here with me. Got it?" he asked sternly.

"This whole thing was your idea before, remember? You suggested watching a scary movie with me."

Neil was starting to sound more condescending now as he continued his stern tone.

"So you're stuck here. With me. You don't get to go anywhere."

„o-ok”

Neil paused for a moment, thinking about what to say next.

He could still feel the heat of your body pressed up against him.

He didn't want to let that go just yet.

"Good girl," he teased, his tone dripping with amusement.

"This is just how I thought it'd go down, anyways. You're scared, you need someone to comfort you. That someone isn't your 'boyfriend.' It's me."

„-your stepbrother”

"And I have to protect you from all the scary things in this movie. Even if... even if that means I have to hold you close to me," he added.

you nodded silently.

"Good girl. That's right. You're my good little stepsister, and you need your stepbrother to keep you safe."

Neil smiled to himself as he spoke. This situation was turning out pretty perfect for him.

you were so scared you were pressing right up against him.

"Now stay right next to me," he continued.

He kept a tight hold of you hips.

"I'm gonna have to keep holding you, just in case something scary happens and you start freaking out again," he added.

Neil kept eyeing you the whole time. Every time he glanced down at you, he made sure to keep his grip on your hips even tighter.

He could tell you felt it, too...

you could feel him pressing into you, his hands gripping your hips firmly.

Neil could tell that you were starting to feel self-conscious now. Starting to realize what was going on, what he was doing.

He was enjoying it.

„n-neil” you whisper

"What?"

Neil turned to look at you, his tone still stern.

He held gripped your hips even tighter.

„i dont think this is appropriate”

"Oh? Is that so?"

Neil turned his gaze completely onto you. He could tell you were getting uncomfortable now, which was exactly what he wanted.

He wanted you uncomfortable and powerless.

"Would you like me to let you go?" he asked, his tone becoming even more condescending.

„…yes” you try to move away but are quickly stopped

"Aww, are you trying to move away?"

Neil tightened his grip even further, pulling you back towards him.

"You're not going anywhere," he added.

Neil could tell you were starting to get frustrated now. clearly not liking the situation you were in.

But it just made the situation all the more fun for Neil. He liked knowing that he was making you uncomfortable.

"You're stuck here with me" he continued. "There's nothing you can do about it. I'm not letting you go."

"Just relax. Everything is fine," he added smugly

Neil couldn't help but grin — this was going so well for him.

you were stuck against him, and couldn't get away.

„uhm…neil..when is the movie going to..end ?”

"Just a few more minutes. Don't worry, it'll be over very soon," he continued.

"Until then, though... you're staying right here with me. No moving away. No calling your boyfriend either. Understood?"

„ok..” you mutter quietly.

"Good girl. Now be a good stepsis and relax. Stop panicking so much. This movie isn't even that bad."

Neil swiftly lifted you on to his lap wanting you even..closer.

„you know you’re really cute when your scared” he added rubbing over your back ,soothingly’.

"Oh, you're trembling like a little baby now? What's wrong? You're scared of movie violence, too? It's not even real — it's like you're 5 years old or something."

Neil's tone was slowly starting to get more condescending as he continues to harass you in this situation.

„neil i want to call my boyfriend dont wanna watch no more” you try to say sternly but end up with a shaky voice.

"No. You're not calling your boyfriend."

Neil's tone was still patronizing and condescending.

He knew what he was doing was pretty messed up, but he didn't really care.

"You're staying here with me."

„you know i still get my reward since i technically won the bet.”

„i guess so…”

„what would you want as a…reward ?”

„hmm, what would i want…” he asked himself

„something physical perhaps” „yeah” he continued talking to himself…

„i want a kiss…”

oh oh poor you little cute scared stepsister…

Banner from @chaefilm

#neil lewis #neil lewis x reader #perv!neil Lewis #Innocent!reade.#tw: non con #dub con #Stepbrother!Neil Lewis #cilian murphy #cilian Murphy x reader

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katsukikitten · 2 years

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Synopsis: Some how your underwear keeps turning up missing, leaving you to wonder if it's just an honest mixup or if there is a dirty little thief in the office.

Warning: Dom fem reader, subby underwear snatcher Kiri who gets degraded, non con.

A/N : a thot that turned into a drabble thanks to @kingkatsuki for just asking if I was making a fic, lol so here it is, no beta, wc 2253

Again. It fucking happened again. Rummaging through your clean laundry the agency has once again misplaced your civilian outfit. Well part of it and the part some would consider the most important part.

Your underwear.

Your thong to be more specific.

This wasn't the first time this has happened since starting here at the Red Riot/Dynamight agency.

And it wasn't like that shit was cheap either. 7/30 dumb ass sales and that's if you were lucky.

If you were getting high quality shit, which you preferred, even the few times you were them under your skin tight suit, it was going to cost even more.

Quickly you throw on your dress and hope there isn't some gust of wind as you shove on your dress boots for some dumb ass dinner that the "founders" insist on having with the heros.

An appreciation dinner Kirishima had called it in his email. Most thought it was great but you agreed with your grumpy hero partner that it was a bit stupid.

Still you smooth the almost too short skirt down as you sit, a wrap top that shows the flesh of your solar plexus and makes your tits look that much bigger. The dinner was held at a late night bar you frequented, so the least this occasion would do was help you bring home a play thing for the night.

The dinner goes on as usual and you bring home a delicious treat for the night. Although you miss entirely the pair of red eyes searing your skin even into the late hours of the night.

You don't know about the labored breaths happening across town.

Of a large man sticking your underwear firmly to his nose. Thinking about how your pretty cunt was protected by only a thin black skirt and how only two people knew your dirty little secret of being commando.

You

And

Him

The thought sends him over the edge as his fist frantically pumps his cock, he paints his stomach in his sticky sin as he pants. Eyes lidded and hazed as he tries not to get hard for the third time.

Fucked out but still, he needed more. You just smelled far too good for him to resist.

Each passing week you lose more and more pairs of underwear. Cheeky, full coverage, thongs, hell even the granny panties you had bought to deter a possible painty thief.

But those went missing too.

Hmm, so what was the common factor here?

A question you've asked yourself over the last few months, it takes Bakugou and another hero to walk into the locker room in all black before it clicks. They strip, not caring that your eyes rake over your bodies and it's then you find the answer.

Everyone in this agency wore all black.

A devilish smile forms on your lips as you absentmindedly stare at Bakugou's happy trail and scar, plan formulating to never lose a pair again.

Slamming your locker you rush from the humid tiled room, sans underwear for the third time this week as Bakugou shouts out.

"Oi, quit slamming shit." To which you reply

"Fuck off."

A brisk walk from the business district to the shopping district is a god-send in this summer heat. Even at 8 at night the heat of the sun clings to the pavement making the night a bit muggy.

Scouring through store after store to find good quality underwear in any color other than nude or black, and finally FINALLY you find the most obnoxious pair in neon pink.

You buy the entire inventory, mean cat smile on your plush lips all the way home.

This morning you were first to change, per the usual, leaving your vibrant underwear in the hamper. Lacing up your boots as Bakugou brings his civi clothes to the giant pile.

"Really?" He sucks his teeth and rolls his eyes, "Ya having that hard of a time convincing people you're a woman?"

He teases as he walks towards the exit expecting you to follow for yet another grueling day with your least favorite boss.

"I'm not afraid to paralyze my boss." You singsong, "My only regret is that it will be temporary."

The day carries on with banter between the two of you and bagging any villain that your eyes land on until it's quitting time.

Much earlier than normal thanks to Bakugou being weeks behind on paperwork earning you a half day.

Heading towards the locker room catching movement out of the corner of your eyes.

Walking towards his office is Kirishima in his hero uniform, something sticks out of his back pocket, something bright.

Something neon pink.

You stand stupefied for a second.

You expected this type of shit from Denki

But THE Red Riot, a man in his early thirties who was just labeled as one of the top ten sexiest men resorted to this level of perversion?

What should you even do?

Confront your boss about possibly stealing your underwear?

Well fuck yea you were that shit was not cheap.

Besides you were a young brash hero, rivaled by none other than stubborn ass Bakugou himself, so confrontation was your middle name.

Quickly you stalk after him, slipping into his office behind him and shutting the door.

Locking it before he can even turn around.

"What's this?" You ask, pulling the underwear from his back pocket.

Pulling your underwear from his back pocket.

"Is this where they've all been going?" Anger sings in your bones until you look up and see the most pathetic look on his face. His brows furrowed, sharp teeth biting on his lower lip and if the mountainous man could shrink he would.

The sight of it sent a jolt straight to your cunt.

"I- it-" He stammers, he never was the best at lying, "It must have ended up in my clean pants. The agency washes all of our stuff together, sometimes I get Bakugou's boxers."

He laughs then, it's awkward and forced as he rubs the back of his head.

"That so?" You fold the underwear inside out, "Funny cause I bought this pair just yesterday, wore them this morning and last I checked Laundry worked overnight."

You step closer and he steps back rattling the items on his desk when he collides with it.

"May-maybe they did it earlier than usual." He tries to produce more excuses but you're having none of his bullshit.

"Sit and stay." You hiss, quirk activating on its own as the large man's eyes widen. He sits on the edge of his desk and the wood groans from his weight.

"Even if that were true Kirishima, which it isn't, you cannot tell me these are clean pants." Your manicured nail taps at the blood and dirt stains on the black fabric, before they trail over his skin. Pointing out the rubble that got caught in his chest hair.

It sends a shiver up his spine and watching the man visibly shudder sends another jolt to your cunt. You lean close to him, glossy lips beside his ear and you can smell the day's work on him. His sweat, the sun, and dirt mingle with his musk making it difficult for you to be angry.

"Just admit it." You purr, pressing your knee on his balls, "You're just a dirty little theif."

He groans loudly enough it makes you gasp. His large cock growing impossibly bigger under his tight pants.

"Oh?" You gently let your nails slide up his nape before you yank his hair roughly, pulling his stubbled face to look at you, "You're enjoying this?"

"Do you know how many times I've had to go commando? How many meetings and dinners I sat through?" He groans at the thought, dick twitching now and you scoff.

"Such a fuckin pervert." You scold, twirling your underwear and watching his gaze glued to the fabric.

You stretch it out displaying the underwear so he can fully see the crotch and g string.

"You like these that much?" He makes a pleading face and nods, the sight of it has you dripping now.

This big powerful man reduced to pouting in a matter of minutes and a few choice words.

"Then have them." You smile, leaning close and grabbing his jaw forcing it open and shoving the fabric in. Just enough he can't spit it out but not too far he cannot breath.

Drool already dribbles down his peach fuzz and his hips buck wildly, hands unable to move.

"Oh." You moan, watching him struggle, watching him look so fucking pitiful with his dirty secret stuck in his mouth.

"I think I know how you can repay me." Slowly you unzip his pants and his cock springs free. Bigger than you'd ever imagined and by instinct your mouth waters. Gathering the saliva with your tongue before making a show of it. Slowly pushing the spit from your mouth and for a split second your spit and his cock are connected before you let it go. A muffled whimper comes from him encouraging you to wrap your hand around his fat cock. It wasn't that he needed the lubrication with how much his cock head was weeping. Sliding the pre and your spit over his length, pumping him slowly as you held eye contact.

"You like this huh?" You let your thumb slide over a thick vein and he sighs, jerking against the strength of your quirk. He wants to pin you beneath him, bury his cock into your cunt until you're clawing at the desk while he pounds into you.

But this? You guiding him, poking and prodding him while he was totally powerless?

Fuck he could get used to this.

"Such a dirty dog." You snarl and a deep groan comes from his throat. His tongue lapping at the cotton in his mouth.

You pull away, zipping down the front of your hero suit and stepping out of it.

His eyes are glued to your crotch, watching the silvery string break when you pull the fabric away. He whimpers again and even more as you bring it to his face, letting him see it up close before you giggle.

"Wow, who would have thought that big, sweet Kirishima was so nasty. So fucking desperate to taste a pretty cunt."

"How about feel one?" You slip your fingers between your thighs, slowly circling your clit. The sight makes him squeeze his eyes shut in concentration, "Is the perverted Pro Hero too busy to fuck?"

You turn around, giving him your ass to see before you bend over slightly. Spreading your cheeks and letting your cunt flutter to the sound of his groans.

Reaching around you take the tip, wondering if you can even take all of him, and slowly guide his length into your eager cunt. The stretch is a delicious burn, furiously rubbing your clit to distract you and it's enough to make you cum.

"Fuck, Eiji baby you're so big." You slur as your cunt grabs onto a few inches of him before you ease your weight onto him. Ass to his pelvis as his cock head gently kisses your cervix. You've never felt so full in your life.

And Kirishima had never seen so many stars, your pussy still greedily trying to milk him from your earlier orgasm. It drives him mad that he can't fuck up into you, especially when you take too long to rock your hips so, so slowly.

But you find some sort of rhythm, moaning almost too loudly as you use him like a dildo.

"You're such a good toy." He watches the shudder go down your spine as you push and pull yourself on him, "Angled just right."

You're panting, babbling almost when you should be in total control, but damn if he just wasn't a perfect fit.

You cum again and again as his cock hits that sensitive spot in your velvety walls.

Shaking as your knees give out and your nails bite into his thighs as you steady yourself. Pussy gripping him so tightly.

Kirishima groans wildly, loudly, and he's about to lose his load in an embarrassing amount of time.

"Don't cum." You hiss and now physically he can't. His swollen cock head hitting your insides just right. Being squeezed beautifully by your snug cunt. The very thing he's dreamed of with his nose buried in your underwear late at night.

And now he was being denied?

On top of that the command from your quirk is worse than edging.

As you grind him, giving him full view of your gorgeous ass and watching his cock disappear into your sloppy cunt he cries. Fat tears falling down his cheeks as he fights your quirk, pulling out the underwear you stuffed into his mouth.

"Please, please…" He begs and fights further against your commands to grab at your hips and his demonstration of power makes you squeeze him tighter. Creaming his cock with a muffled moan. Slowing the rolls of your hips as you fuck yourself gently through the feeling.

His cock throbs inside of you begging for release before you pop off of him suddenly. The anguish that watches over his face is delicious.

Fucking salivating.

"Aht aht." You wag your finger and your ass with your drooling cunt, turning around to press a bruising kiss to his lips, pulling away with a glint of malicious mischief in your eyes.

"Only good men get to cum."

#kirishima x reader #kirishima eijirou x reader #eijirou kirishima x reader #kirishima eijiro x reader #tw: non con #kitten writes 🖤🐈‍⬛🖋️

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aliceinborderlandsquidgame · 1 year

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Yandere AIB Boys reacting to see you having another S/O

Summary: You scaped them once but they show again in your life and by hell chance they see you with your S/O.

Notes: So i was confused on how to do this if they scaped the boderlands since they dont remember a thing after it. I went with them being in the real world. Also only Tatta and Banda have a "if they see you with a kid" reaction. Might do the others at some point.

⚠️ Warnings: Yandere - Violence - Death - Emotional and Physical Abuse - Mentions of pregnancy - Drugs - NON-CON -

Includes: Arisu-Chishiya-Tatta-Banda Sunato-Karube-

♤ Arisu

He most likely never lost contact with you because he made fake social media accounts to keep an eye on you just in case something happened.

He knows about this new relationship of you and while it makes his blood boild he likes to see you happy...

Till you post you are getting married to this person.

Arisu sees red.

He will break some of his game setup and make a mess of his college notes, will scream at "why im never enough" and then cry a bit.

He later will come up with a plan on getting you back, whatever you want it or not.

He will "borrow" some money from his father and get a nice aparment away from the city and places where your friends/family are.

Then will contact some internet friends he made in games who are hackers to hack your soon to be husband profile and use it to send messages to other girls/boys to make it seem like he has been cheating on you all this time.

He will soon find you by your social media and show by "casuallity" where you are.

He would play it off completly and act all friendly like nothing ever happened between you two. Like he did not drug you or follow you.

Its like you do not learn from your mistakes because you find yourself drinking with him telling him how you were going to get married and now you are not sure about it but your parents are pressuring you....

Arisu will nod and offer you comfor words, he will keep ordering drinks for you as you cry and tell him how much you have missed him but know how dangerous he can be when he wants.

Arisu will keep himself under control, he will lie about meeting someone new and how he has change.

In your drunk state you would accept his offer to take you back home.

Arisu will use this chance to actually take you to your new home with him. He will get you in your underwear and unlock your phone to take pics of you to send to your boyfriend so he will think you cheated on him. Then ones for your family who promise him to not be on his way if he promises to never show up with you again at their home.

When you wake up Arisu is there, smiling at you with a crazy gaze, he shows you your family messages being all happy because in his head they accepted you two as a couple and will take your cries as a signal that you are happy.

♤ Chishiya

You were smart to leave him but your S/O was dumb and you two ended in emergency care.

And who happens to be you S/Os Doctor? Chishiya.

He tought he had overcome his obssesion with you and was moving on but when he sees you being clingy with your new S/O (like you used to be with him) he almost breaks his pen.

He will call your S/Os name and when you hear his voice you will froze up. You will try to go with your S/O but they will say they will be fine. You dont miss the look Chishiya gives you as he takes your S/O.

Its the last time you see them.

Something about a complication and how they suddendly died. Its all a blurr. Their family is debasted and so are you.

Chishiya will start to follow you again and use his contacts to get you to be back to the hospital where he works so he knows how you are doing and plays your mind to be back to him.

And your S/O ? Well they did die but Chishiya's name has too much power to bring the real death reason to the light.

Chishiya will eventually get your mind so fucked up that you will return to him. He will keep you under his watch all the time. Asking you to stop working so you can stay at home (where he has cameras) and if you say no then he will try and get you pregnat so you will end being a housewife.

♤ Tatta

Tatta never stopped loving/being obsess with you. He kept following around the city like a ghost, never too close but never too far.

Then he sees you with your new S/O.

His mind will say to him "why would you do this to him? Why cant you love him?" He will first blame you then blame your S/O because if they were not in the picture then you two could be together.

Tatta will start to randomly appear when you and your S/O are on dates, which ends making your S/O worried but you asure them you will talk with Tatta and put an end to this.

BIG MISTAKE

Tatta thinks you are at his door to tell him how much you love him and how you want to be with him. He wont listen to reasons and will end slapping you then screaming at you because is your fault you two never worked out.

He will then feel bad and promise to leave you alone but as soon as you turn your back he knocks you off. He has no idea what he is going to do but for sure he wont let you go back to your S/O.

If Tatta sees you with a kid he will be delusional and think is his. He will for sure kindapt both of you and use the kid against you. He easily wins over the kid, so now you must play his "perfect family" game to continue with your life.

♤ Banda Sunato

You scaped once, dont expect a second time.

In fact, congratulations for scaping him once.

Banda finds you with your new S/O and his solution is simple

Kill them.

Banda follows both of you and attacks your S/O when they go back alone to their own home. He then will appear at your door, showing you some pics of your new dead S/O and asking who should be next till you accept to go back to him.

If he sees you with a kid: In Bandas case there is no parental love, his only "love" is for you. He would most likely use the kid to get to you. Faking his emotions towards the kid so they get close to him and then using it against you.

"Mom wants to leave daddy, but you love Daddy right? Then mom should love daddy too"

♤ Karube

You find Karube at a bar where he is working. Your S/O wanted to go out and from all the bars in the city they pick the one where you ex works.

Karube wont take his eyes off of you.

He will ask some friends from security to take your S/O out and when you try to stop them he will appear.

He will take you to one back room and ask you what are you doing and why are you with that person.

When you refuse to respond his questions he will take you by your hair, pull his lips on yours and bit you hard.

He then will pull away and tell you how bad you have been, will force you to drink something he made that will make you pass out.

You will end in his aparment, sore and with multiple "love bites" on your body.

The worse? There are texts from your S/O telling you how digusting you are. Karube took the liberty on sending your S/O some pics of you from last night that you cant remember.

You and your S/O are not getting back together and while you cry Karube is making coffee for you and preparing some medication for you.

#alice in borderland #aib imagine #aib imagines #chishiya #aib #alice in borderland x reader #chishiya x reader #tatta x reader #banda sunato x reader #karube x reader #arisu x reader #tw: non con #tw: rape #tw: murder

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elevenelvenswords · 8 months

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I've been thinking about my boy Maedhros quite a lot these days, and I thought I might just as well write something about his struggle with PTSD after his rescue. TW for mentions of rape, PTSD and suicidal ideation.

----------------

The usual silence of Himring’s halls was broken by the clinking sound of boots pressed against marble. It heralded the hastened pace of their wearer, a fleeting shadow amidst the desolate corridors. He walked with urgent, wobbly steps, and no weapon did he carry. A strange notion for those who chose to live out their days in that cold region, for peril was a promise deeply embedded into the very stones of the tall walls. Darkness reigned in that forlorn place; darkness pooled around it from the surrounding hills, and the barren lands stretching beyond offered no consolation. Darkness from the northernmost regions stretched across the skies like an infectious disease, spreading its cancer –and with it, desolation- with deadly precision. Should the dark enemy strike, the first blow would land upon him.

But Maedhros cared little for safety or precaution. He cared even less for comfort or rest, and as his unsteady steps carried him higher and higher within his fortress, he quickly discovered that he paid no heed to whatever life –true life, not only survival- entailed.

Hunger coiled in his belly, but he had no desire for food. Dark circles ridged his eyes –how long had it been since he last slept?-, and exhaustion tore at his limbs. But he did not seek sleep. His legs quivered with the mere effort of holding himself upright. Trembling fingers gripped at the walls for purchase as even the simple act of climbing up the stairs of the uppermost tower proved too much. A hitching sob caught in his throat as a sudden wave of dizziness rocked through his body, his surroundings a frightening blur that only seemed to mount the horrific swell of terror that rose up in his chest. Hard he fought the temptation to collapse and simply let that fatigue claim him, lull him to sleep, let his head hit the floor in a splatter of gore. With bloodless fingers he gripped the window sill to his left, his head lolling towards his chest as his breath came skidding past his teeth in laboured hisses. In an attempt to right himself once more, he pressed his palm against the window sill, hard, painstakingly dragging his legs up the stairs.

Seven more steps and he would reach the top. They could not touch him there.

Maedhros squeezed his eyes shut, ignoring the cold beads of sweat that dripped down his forehead and spine, soaking his night shirt. He paused briefly to peek over his shoulder, down into the darkness that trailed his every footstep.

Yes, they could not touch him there. For they always awaited bellow.

His brows furrowed, worry painted over his face as for a few long moments he peered at what lay behind him. Down the passage he came from –he assumed that was where he came from- was nothing but silence. Deafening, hideous silence. Maedhros’ heart hammered within his chest as that strange information crashed against him.

Nothing was there.

His chin crinkled as incredulously he kept staring, and staring, and listening. Uselessly his ears twitched in search for sounds. Screams, the slashing strike of a whip, the clatter of dishes smashed to the ground in anger, anything to rid him of that accusatory silence.

Nothing was there.

That meant something awaited for him up, instead of down.

Nausea blossomed in his stomach at that new prospect, and stricken he stood motionless. Upon the shores of incertitude he swayed. Back and forth, back and forth, ‘till he felt sick. His lungs burned with the sudden lack of oxygen –he must have stopped breathing, somehow-, but he could scarcely register it. For no, he thought, something has to be there. An ugly grimace contorted his scarred face as almost violently he ripped himself free of the window sill, and the stairs, and that engulfing emptiness. Blindly he sprinted up the seven stairs, for he had to see it. Whatever new horror awaited him up instead of down, he had to see it, he had to endure it, and he knew that in the end it could only feel right.

Deserved that pain would be. Treachery ached in his bones, sins ran as deep as marrow within his flesh, and he could only carry on.

Yet hollowness was all that he found inside that lonely tower, as with a vicious move he wrenched the wooden door open and he witnessed the absence of danger. An old desk and some forgotten chairs covered in cobwebs were the only witnesses to the shrill shriek that emerged from Maedhros’ throat. Upon aching limbs he swayed, and he retched, and he swayed again. Nothing but acrid bile bubbled upon his lips while he shook his head in denial.

Something had to be there, something had to hurt him and bring oh-so-deserved justice. For his sins were many; the dead groaned under the weight of the water, and contemptuously he had watched them sink. How many did he condemn under the swift swing of his sword? How many had begged for clemency at his feet? How many times was he punished for it deep inside the bowels of Angband? How many blades cut his skin open, and how many abusers violated whatever healthy flesh he still had left?

How many?

Maedhros slumped forwards. Nothing but bleating hysteria urged him to crawl upon scraped knees –and upon his remaining hand- until trapped in a corner he curled. Guilt drowned him, but so did fear. Loneliness dug its claws deep into his skin and how he groaned with the agony of it.

How many hands raked down his body, how many tongues licked the tears from his face as they pressed up inside of him? So hard he fought, he did-

Not enough.

-yet no one came to save him. No valiant rescue, for what use was there in such a broken, debased thing such as himself? Hard he clutched at his knees, drawing them up to his chest as such crippling hopelessness coursed through his veins. Bitterly he wept then. He wept for all the things that he was, and for all the things that he wouldn’t be.

Through the wet, hitching sobs he somehow managed to pay attention to his enclosure. His ears twitched again, this time to detect the faint, unknown footsteps drawing close to him. Inside that foul cell of anguish something –no, someone- came, with slow, wary movements. Pain flared up his right shoulder as he strained it, as he pushed it into the stones in a desperate attempt to escape that dark, towering thing approaching him.

For such a heinous thing it seemed in its intrusion. Such malice dripped from its pointed teeth when it hungrily eyed him. Shadows were its cloak, and silence its weapon. Its mouth reeked of venom, and abyssal it seemed when it opened at last.

“Maedhros,” it growled, and how his skin crawled to hear it. With whatever strength he still had, Maedhros clawed at the wall, hoping against hope that he might escape it. “Oh, Maedhros…”.

“No,” he whined, with such desperation that his heart ached to hear his own voice. As the monster crouched beside him and extended its razor-sharp claws, Maedhros cringed away from its touch. A gasp caught in his throat as he felt it touch his left shoulder, but where he expected violence, he only received tenderness.

With the softest of touches it brushed its hand against his skin, it softly trailed his back, and amid his gasps for air Maedhros heard it whisper, “I’m here.”

Familiarity rang in its voice, and Maedhros shivered to hear it. He felt more than he saw it move closer to him, and as its warm arm draped over his shoulders protectively, as it pressed its lips to his damp hair and muttered “You’re all right, I’m right here,”, Maedhros felt his panic slowly dissipate. In reassuring little circles the thing rubbed its long fingers, and though Maedhros did not raise his face to properly look at it, unspeakable relief splintered in his innards. He whimpered hollowly, pressing his forehead into the creature’s chest, and he smiled as he allowed that presence to hold him, console him, kiss him. Grief settled like a heavy thing beneath his sternum, but so did love for the creature gently rocking him back and forth.

Defeated, he closed his eyes at last. He drifted away from cruel wakefulness to rest contentedly, cradled within the stranger’s arms.

-------------------

Maglor entered the tower in a burst of panic, and as he set his eyes upon his brother’s form, hunched in the far corner of the room, dismay swirled in his belly. Quickly he scanned the terrible scene; a broken chair stood harmlessly in the opposite corner, whilst the table was just slightly moved to the left. A puddle of what Maglor assumed was vomit slowly trickled through the cracks in the floor. Sobs ebbed from Maedhros, and Maglor swallowed hard.

“Maedhros,” Maglor tried, trying to keep his voice as even and as light as possible. But how Maedhros jumped even at that. Helplessly Maglor watched Maedhros dig his nails into the merciless wall, little streaks of red painting the stones in their wake. Maglor felt sick.

“Oh, Maedhros…” he sighed –or sobbed-, unbidden tears wetting his eyelashes at the sight of his brother tormenting himself so.

“No,” he heard Maedhros breathe, and the pain in his tone cleaved Maglor’s heart in two.

Carefully, and so incredibly slowly, he put one foot in front of the other, trying his best to approach his brother without causing further distress. Yet his efforts were in vain, Maglor quickly realised, as he heard the utter terror in Maedhros’ voice when he crouched down beside him.

So softly, so imploringly he touched Maedhros’ shoulder then. Hard he bit back the wail that bubbled up in his throat. Hard he held to his composure as he pulled Maedhros into an embrace, as he was forced to feel every feeble twitch of muscle, as he was forced to hear every moan and mewl his kind touches evoked. Maglor whispered whatever encouragements he could think of, and how his chest ached when he saw Maedhros’ tears trickle down his pale cheeks.

“You’re all right, I’m right here,” he whispered, trying his best not to burst into tears. For there was a glimmer of hope when Maedhros gradually relaxed, when his sobs subsided. Tightly Maglor held his brother, and tighter still he held onto the hope that perhaps, one day, such horrors might be lifted off their shoulders, and the coming of the new day might bring joy and serenity instead of regret.

One day, he prayed for his brother in the darkness, though he no longer believed in prayers. One day.

#maedhros #maglor #character study #my writing #silmarillion #tw: non con #tw: mental health issues

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joyful-downer · 8 months

Text

Tw: nsfw, possible non-con

Uncle Jack getting taken to a nearby alley by one of the Bobbies only to then be forced down to his knees to swallow his dick, having his throat be pounded until it's sore.

Meanwhile the Bobby's foot is pressing down on the tv host's clothed bulge, making him squirm under the pressure.

#we kinky few #uncle jack #jack worthing #whf bobby #whf constable #tw: non con #whf headcanon #throat fucking

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konigsblog · 2 months

Text

tw: rape/non-con, somnophillia. 18+ 🍪🍰

pervy-baker-könig who makes a fresh batch of cookies for the neighbour moved in next door.

of course, he can't just be normal - instead, he pours thick globs of his hot cum into the batter, mixing it together with his hung, weeping cock hanging from his black, tight boxers, hidden behind his apron.

he stalks you and watches your every move from his kitchen window. his breathing quickens at the sight of your pretty body, milky cum running down his veiny shaft as he jerks himself off, peaking out of the curtains to watch you bend over, picking up your moving boxes.

the curve of your ass, and the way the wind blows your summer dress up occasionally. july's heat causes you to become sweaty, whilst könig's shirt sticks to his muscular, burly body, stroking himself with his head thrown back, gritting his teeth and panting heavily at the sight of you.

and fuck, it breaks him to see you so sweet and gentle. your sweet voice rings in his ear as you thank him for the gift, so naïve and unsuspecting of the pervert, taking a bite infront of him and complimenting him on the unique touch of saltiness - how it's the best cookie you've ever had...

of course, he assumes you want more of his delicious, special desserts !! perhaps, he'll lean over your face whilst you're asleep at night, sneaking into your house next door, his fat tip against your lip, droplets of milky cum dripping from the head of his shaft, leaking against your tongue whilst you sleep peacefully.

#orla speaks #konig smut #könig smut #könig x reader #könig x you #konig x you #konig x reader #konig x reader smut #könig headcanons #baker könig #perv könig #tw: non con #dead dove do not eat #tw: somnophillia

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diejager · 5 months

Note

not exactly a specific prompt or anything but - could you write more stepdad!könig and dbf!horangi pls? 👉👈

Cw: DUB-CON/NON-CON, DARKFIC, STEPCEST, AGE GAP public sex?, exhibitionism, fingering, under the table, mention of forced piercing, rough sex, unprotected sex, PinV, mention of anal sex, tell em if I missed any.

You jerked, dropping the fork in your hand and biting your lower lip to stop a moan from slipping through between them. Unfortunately, the sudden click of your fork and you shift in expression worried your mother, making her question you, brows furrowed and lips pursed into a frown. She was worried, you knew she was, but that was the last thing you had on mind, neither her quiet quarry about your health and unpredictable act, nor König’s piercing eyes and the food that was now sprayed on the table.

What truly worried you was Horangi and your own inability to hold your voice back. He looked nonchalant, brow quipped up in faked confusion, knowing that your reaction resulted from him, his wandering hand that slipped under the waistband of your short and into your cunt, pumping in and out fo you with a slow and unbothered pace. You jumped from the unexpected tap against your gummy wall, three fingers curling before they hit your sweet spot, sending an arousing pulse up your spine. You’d be fucked stupid by his fingers alone, thick and long - not as long as your stepfather, but they were better than yours - stretching your hole open to take his cock later that night.

“I’m ah-okay, mom,” you smiled shakily at her, hand gripping tightly around your knife, tremors wracking your body as you swallowed down moan after moan. “Just a stomach ache.”

“Oh dear, do you need to lay down?” She frowned good-naturedly, the skin on her brow wrinkling.

“Yeah,” you internally cheered, you’d be able to get away from this situation until later, when you’d be stuck under Horangi, ”Thanks mom.”

You were gagged, mouth stuffed with a soiled pair of your panties, drooling around your thong, down your lips while you wailed. You were stuffed with cock, legs jerking with every push of Horangi’s cock, walls forcibly pried open to take his thick shaft and his prettily trimmed pubes rubbing your swollen clit. You felt his cock carve the walls of your cunt to fit his girth, thicker in the middle with a petty and angry head and veins crawling up the shaft. It cured lightly, light enough to stand between his legs, but heavy just enough that you could feel it weigh you down, pounding away at your crumbling resolve.

He was panting, a husky and laboured breathing on your neck, his hot breath hitting you as he kissed down your shoulder, teeth scratching your soft and tender flesh, weak under his sharper teeth. He hungered for more; he lusted for eternal pleasure. Suckling the curve of your collar, teeth skimming the swell of your jostling breasts, nippled flared and wet from his manhandling. He dove back in, lips wrapped around your least swollen nub, sucking as if he was trying to milk it of all substance. You cried out when he bit down, sinking his fangs into the fat of your chest before he unlatched himself with a wet pop, leaving the indentations of his mouth on you. Then he did the same to your other tit, mind keen on fucking you, his dick ramming into you roughly while he gave attention to your sore nipples.

“Fuck, imagine these pierced,” he chuckled dreamily, a low, addicted daze in his mind, dreaming of piercing your nipples himself, “Wouldn’t you like that?”

You shook your head frantically, dreading giving them mor to use against you, more leverage to make your body betray and succumb to their whims, especially with how often your stepdad’s at home. You struggled under him as if to prove your point, feet kicking around his narrow waist, the scarred flesh a touch different from the rest of his body, pulling at the restraints keeping your hands tied to your headboard —his belt. You let out a ragged and angered scream, silenced by the gag but your body still shook with the force behind it, teary eyes closed while they rolled back in reluctant pleasure.

Horangi’s chest rumbled, a smile stretched awkwardly by the tiger-like scars on his face. In retaliation, he gave a few hard thrusts, rocking your bed against the wall, his cut head kissing your bruised cervix after brushing against your sweet, gummy wall. It punched the air out of your lungs, leaving you heaving and gasping for air, fully at the mercy of your stepfather’s friend-

“Ja, she would look so pretty,” König’s sudden appearance scared you, his mocking coo and statement reaffirming Horangi’s thought.

Your closed around Horangi, flinching away as much as you could in your restrained state, your fear and trepidation made you tighter and wetter, slick suddenly bursting around Horangi’s leaky cock. You could hear your stepfather move, his purposefully-loud steps booming in your ear, but you couldn’t see him, eyes rolled so far back in an explosive release. You felt the bed shift under him, dipping to a side while he loomed over you both, looking at your swollen nipples as if he was admiring how pretty they’d look if he had you pierced them, a rod straight through your round nub.

“Sehr hübsch, Schatzi,” he hummed, his rough hand sliding down the curve of your navel where he could feel every hard thrust and found your clit, rolling it with a big finger, “Or a piercing here, on your little clit.”

König smiled handsomely, a brazenly hungry stare covering his threatening and dominating composure. His ice blue eyes squinted mirthfully, gleaming with a dark urge, something that demanded control, that wanted submission and subservience from you. He’d fill that rimmed hole of yours after Horangi’s done with your pussy, spreading your ass around his thick and veiny cock that pressed uncomfortably against his briefs.

Taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @tallmanlover @distracteddragoness @vxnilla-hxrddrugs @konigsblog @havoc973 @im-making-an-effort @daisychainsinknots @0alk0msan @danielle143 @dont-mind-me-just-existing-sadly @tuttifuckinfruttifriday

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tallulah477 · 1 month

Text

Prove To You

Pairing: Neteyam x Fem!Human!Reader

Warnings: AgedUp!Neteyam, Yandere!Neteyam, ***NON-CON***, Dub-con, Predator/Prey Kink, Chasing, Obsessive/Possessive Behavior, Oral (female receiving), Edging/Orgasm Delay, P in V, Knotting, Size Difference, Fingering, Slight Degradation (use of 'whore'), Belly Bulge, Lapdance (kinda), Creampie, Alien Genitalia, Squirting, A Few Ass Slaps, Mentions of drinking and being tipsy/drunk, Brief Violence/Violent Thoughts (not towards reader), Brief mention of pregnancy, Threat of cutting off another's kuru/neural queue, Thoughts of killing/murder, One (1) non-sexual face slap (reader slaps Neteyam)

Word Count: 9.7K 💀

A/N: Hiiiii it's been a while 🤷🏻‍♀️

Summary: It was only ever supposed to be a hookup, something fun to pass the time. But to Neteyam, it was so much more than that. He's in love with you, obsessed with you - his perfect little mate. But he doesn't know why you keep running away.

**PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS - DON'T LIKE, DON'T READ**

Translations:

Yawne - Beloved

Tìyawn - Love

Tweng - Loincloth

Tawtute - Human

Kuru - Neural Queue

Tsaheylu - Bond, Neural Connection

Swoasey - kava bowl (constructed from seed pods, used for drinking intoxicating beverages)

Kaltxì - Hello

Pxir - Beer

Tsahìk - Spiritual Leader / Healer

Skxawng - Moron / Idiot

Iknimaya - Rite of Passage

Oel Ngati Kameie - I See You

Tanhì - Star

Muntxate - Wife, Female Spouse

Mawey - Calm

He’d only wanted to kiss you. To feel your soft lips pressed against his again.

It had been so long since he’d gotten to feel them. The mask you have to wear is always a frustrating obstacle. He begs from time to time for you to pull it off, just for a moment, so he can press his warm lips to yours, taste your tongue on his just for a few blissful seconds before the lack of air catches up with you and you have to replace it.

You always say no, always push his hand away from where he has it cupped lovingly around the side of your head, but it never stops him from asking.

You’re not wearing a mask now though. Instead, a long tube spans one side of your face, curling around your ear and stretching across your cheek before the very end of it forks off into your nostrils. At first glance he panicked, terrified of the thought of you out in the dangerous Pandora environment as a human without your only source of oxygen. It’s silly. He knows that you could have never made it to the village from the lab without some way of breathing. But he can’t help how he reacts, needing to be sure, needing to know that you’re okay.

He’s at your side in an instant, kneeling in front of your tiny frame, large hands engulfing your head as his eyes searched your face in concern. You smack his hand away, answering his concerned questions of “Ma yawne, what is going on? Are you okay?” with a short “Fine. It’s the new tech the lab guys made,”

He calms, anxiety slipping from his body now that he knows you’re still safe. His eyes flicker over your face, a small smile pulling at his lips as he takes in all your beautiful features in front of him. You’re the most beautiful person he’s ever seen, he’s always thought that, ever since the very first moment he met you all those years ago. But now here, without the thick layer of glass covering your face, it’s like he’s seeing you for the first time all over again.

“You’re so pretty, tìyawn,” He whispers, fingers unconsciously reaching out again to brush against your cheek. It’s finally accessible, bare and soft under his fingertips before the dull sting of another slap knocks his hand away.

You don’t like public displays of affection.

Or, at least, now you don’t.

You used to not mind it. Back before that night in front of the fire, you would touch him all the time - sweet and gentle touches when you were talking, so tactile in your interactions with him. A quick squeeze to his knee whenever he was able to make you laugh, friendly half hugs as greetings that would make his heart pound in his chest every single time, your intoxicating scent filling his lungs and suffocating him in the best way.

He’d keep his nose buried in your neck, breathing you in until you were all he could smell or think about for the rest of eternity if he could.

He used to carry you places when you would tag along on fun adventures with him and his siblings. Excitement coursed through him every time you agreed to join them, tail swishing eagerly behind him because he knew that eventually you would get tired from walking and allow him to carry you on his back. You like to talk, prattling on about whatever was going on at the lab or a fun new piece of tech that Norm and the others were working on. Sometimes you’d talk about the current drama - someone said you talked too much, were too abrasive, but that you thought that they personally needed to grow a backbone. He’d listen to whatever you had to say - soaking up your voice like the most melodic song and committing every detail you provide him to memory.

But your voice has a physical response on him. But the horrified looks his siblings would send him when they would see the tent in his tewng from where his hard cock had slipped out of its sheath was always well worth the embarrassment. The feeling of your soft skin on his - arms wrapping around his neck for balance, his hands completely engulfing your warm thighs from where they wrapped tightly around his torso as far as they could. He’s spent many nights imagining them wrapped around his waist from the front instead.

You didn’t mind public displays of affection when you drank an entire swoasey of pxir and danced in front of him by the fire. The celebration had wound down, the clan members satisfied in celebrating the induction of The People who had passed their Iknimaya just a few hours ago. Only a few younger adults who seemed to have the same idea as you remained now, each couple splintering off to different parts of the campground to get their much needed privacy. Even Lo’ak has moved away, enamored by the pretty girl sitting on his lap, uncaring about the way his hands slide down to cup her ass and pull her closer.

The fading glow of yellows and oranges look amazing against your skin, the steady crackle of the fire like a song all on its own as your hips move to the music only your own head and nature provides. Neteyam’s eyes are wide, excitement coursing through his veins as he watches your hips sway. You sway too, your body a bit unsteady from the drink still in your hand, but mostly it's your hips - the sensual swish back and forth, beads from your tewng (a gift from Kiri he suspects) clank together against each other and your thighs. Your pretty thighs, so soft he wants to wrap his entire hand around them, spread them open for him and see you like he’s always dreamed of. You’d be so wet, so sticky and drenched for him that he’d be able to just slide right in. You were made for him. Made to take him. He’d fit between your thighs so perfectly despite your size difference, he knows he would.

His breath catches in his throat when you dance closer, small body seductive in the way it calls to him with your movements. You toss the swoasey to the side, the little liquid that was left pouring out and soaking into the ground beside you. Your hands find their way to his bent knees, heat filled eyes never leaving his as you push his legs apart so you can stand between them, searing him with their intensity even from behind the glass of your mask.

Your hands slide up his legs, tiny fingers creeping up the insides of his thighs and he can’t help the audible gulp that escapes him when he feels his cock nudge against his already wet slit, threatening to poke out at any moment.

Great Mother, you’re so gorgeous. The most beautiful woman Eywa has ever created. You must have been created by her - no other god or goddess or being could ever have made anything more perfect and irresistible than Eywa herself.

Surely, the Great Mother has made you for him. Just for him.

“Why so nervous, Teyam?” You giggle, leaning up as far as you can towards his face while still keeping your teasing hands on his thighs, dangerously close to the now bulging fabric. “Tawtute got your tongue?”

“I–um–” He chokes out. He can’t breath, can’t breath with you so fucking close to him. He wants you so badly, wants to touch you so badly he feels like he might die if he doesn’t.

And then you're turning in the cage of his open thighs, back pressing against his front as you grab his shaking hand. There’s a satisfied smirk on your face as you drag his arm around you, the large appendage spanning your entire chest as he sprawls his fingers out across your front. His fingertips automatically curl around the curve of your breast while his palm caresses the other through your beaded top, his body subconsciously reacting to your own guidance.

His heart is pounding so hard he thinks it might explode in his chest, breathing labored as his hard cock digs into your back.

“You can touch me,” You whisper, but his ears flick at your words and catch them loud and clear. “Want you to play with me.”

“Ha-fuck,” He groans, mouth falling open in silent awe as your top shifts underneath his hand and his finger grazes your hard nipple. Without thinking his hand squeezes your chest, gently but firm enough for you to gasp as he greedily gropes both breasts at once.

He can smell you now, the mind dizzying scent of your arousal filling the air around you both as you gasp and giggle excitedly at his sudden action, both of your tiny hands reaching up to grip at his big one as you press him tighter against you.

“Come on, Teyam,” You moan, moan, and he’s not even touching you yet. You turn your head to look at him, craning your neck as you stare up at him with wide, lust filled eyes. “Have some fun with me.”

That night he spent with you under the hypnotic glow of the fire will be forever burned into his mind. Every detail, every moan, every sigh, every praise and whine and plea spilling from your lips as he made love to you for the very first time is kept under the sacred lock and key of his heart - a memory he saved with Eywa back at the Spirit Tree the morning after so that he would never have the possibility of forgetting.

The memory of your gasp as he pushed you down, beads flying across the mossy ground as he tore your clothes off like an animal and how the roughness of it all made your arousal even stronger. His eyes greedy as they took in their fill of your beautiful body splayed out in front of him like a prize before he covered you with his own. Your fingers teased along his bullet wound scar, tracing the raised line with careful fingers, and he thinks that maybe your loving touch will be enough to fully heal it.

The place between your thighs feels like home, your tiny pussy swallowing him up and holding him close like the most perfect combination of love and safety. Your voice ringing in his ears, sweet and sensual as you whimper and moan telling him faster, Teyam, fuck me harder, oh god, and he whines in return, cock throbbing and embarrassingly close to bursting so fast already, and sending up thanks and prayers to the Great Mother for granting him this amazing moment with you.

It’s the blending of two hearts, two souls made for each other and coming together as one in a bond so powerful that no one can ever break it. It doesn’t matter that you don’t have a kuru, Neteyam can feel you in himself anyway - can feel you wrapping your tiny fingers around his brain and heart and very being, solidifying your bond together without the need for tsaheylu.

And when you pull your mask off, holding your breath as the hiss of air escapes from the broken seal around your face - he can’t breathe either. The feel of your lips on his, soft and demanding as you kiss him passionately as he fucks you on the forest floor, makes him see stars.

He’s not sure where the change of behavior came from. One day you were affectionate, touchy and giving with your love, surrounding him with your scent and embrace, pussy wrapped around his cock in a hug so tight he thought you might never let go. He wouldn’t mind that, being buried in your heat forever, warm and loved until the day he dies. But the next morning the walls came up, the attitude started, and when he had gone to greet you with a blinding smile and an adoring ‘kaltxì, yawne,’ on his lips as he bent to kiss your cheek, you pulled back and pressed a firm hand against his belly to push him away.

He thought that your coldness was nerves, just a reaction a human might have to the new soul bond you’ve experienced. Humans don’t mate for life like the Na’vi do, but you’re special, you’re his, and Eywa has blessed your union and made it so even though it should not be possible. Maybe you just don’t know how to handle it. It’s okay, he can be the patient and supportive mate you need.

But the coldness and hostility doesn’t stop, the days go by and the passage of time doesn’t make you calm down. You don’t throw your arms around him like he wants you to, don’t say those three words he longs to hear fall from your lips said with all the love and trust that you have in your little tawtute body.

Instead, there’s almost anger, a sudden indifference that he can’t seem to place. Had he done something wrong? He doesn’t think so. So, he tries to do the best he can, be the best mate he can be for you during your obvious time of struggle. He’s always there for you, will always be there for you, providing support and bringing you fresh meat, dicing up your favorite fruits and making you pretty jewelry that he knows will look so beautiful on you if you ever just wear it.

You don’t. You toss the jewelry to the side like it's nothing, you let the food rot exactly where he’s left it.

You’re not a Na’vi, you don’t understand the implication of your crassness towards his gifts. You don’t see how your refusals break his heart. It’s okay - you’ll learn. Humans are . . . unusual creatures. It will just take a bit more time for you to warm up to the ways of The People.

But his optimism stings with each slight, each indifference you show towards him. Great Mother, you’re so mean to him. Always trying to run from him when he grabs at you, ripping your hand away from his whenever he tries to hold it. You’ve been hiding from him, your trips into the village getting less and less frequent and you don’t let him in when he tries to come to the lab to visit you.

“You don’t even like being here,” You say when he tries. And you’re right. The stuffiness of the lab makes him tense, and it feels like he can sometimes feel the energy from the machines pressing up against his body. But when he’s with you he doesn’t care. You’re the only thing that matters to him, and when he’s with you, it’s like everything else just falls away.

The sting from your smack is still on his hand, but he shakes it off as he reaches out to caress your arm instead. “Ma yawne, are you hungry? You should come to my hut. I’ll cook you a fi–”

“No,” You interrupt, shrugging him off of your arm. “I’m not hungry.”

“Oh,” He breathes, disappointment burrowing in his chest but he tries not to let it show even as his fingers reach out to graze against your wrist. “Well then maybe we can go on a walk? There’s a lake not too far from here that I’ve been wanting to show you. It’s beautiful.” Beautiful like you. “I know you’ll love it.”

“No, Neteyam,” You say again, pulling your wrist from his wandering fingers and crossing your arms across your chest. “I’m busy.”

“What are you doing? Maybe I could–”

“No,”

The clipped word rings in his ears. No, no, no, always no. He’s your mate, you shouldn’t have to tell him no. Where you go, he goes. Where he goes, you go. Together. Simple as that. And yet it’s still always no, no, no. You’re turning away from him without another word, walking away with strides he thinks are way too quick for a human, and he can’t help but wonder where you’re heading to in such a rush.

“Okay,” He calls out, desperate for the conversation not to be over but knowing it will just upset you if he follows you. “I’ll come see you later, tìyawn. I swear it!”

You don’t even look back.

He hasn’t seen you in nearly a week and his patience is running thin.

Your absence is killing him.

Where are you? Why won’t you see him? He knows you have to be suffering too without him. Mated pairs aren’t meant to be without each other for so long and he feels like he’s been apart from you for an eternity.

You stopped coming to the village. He’s been looking, desperately hoping that he’ll see you among the multitude of faces he sees every day. He wants to hear your voice so badly, wants to pull you into his arms and hold you there, safe and loved, while the warmth of your skin soaks into his.

He wants to push you down again, cover you with his body as he presses you into his sleeping mat - your sleeping mat. Both of yours, together, the way it should be as he plows into your swollen cunt. His hut should be covered in your scent by now, not an inch of it left without your mark on it.

It’s not, and his understanding for your trouble adjusting to the bond is quickly dissipating.

He’s tried to come see you at the lab multiple times. A lot. Every day. The lab guys turn him away.

She’s busy. She’s sleeping. She’s too tired. She’s not feeling too well.

If you're not feeling well, he should be in there to heal you. Give you comfort when you're at your weakest and motivation to get better. So he can keep an eye on you and make sure you’re safe. If you’re tired, let him in so he can wrap his arms around you. His chest is sure to be a better pillow for you than any other one you would be laying on. He would be warm, chest moving with just the perfect amount of rise and fall to lull you into a restful sleep. Your beauty sleep - not that you need it. And if you’re busy . . . what’s the harm in him just being around you? He won’t bother you, but any time just existing in the same space as you is like a dream come true.

He tries to be nice, tries to be a good person - these are his father’s friends, allies of the Omatikaya - and he’s never been one to act impulsively. But they are keeping you from him. You are his. His mate.

By the looks on their faces, they know how lucky they are that they got away with only some vicious snarls and a pushed over lab desk. Keeping away someone’s mate should be punishable by death.

At least, that’s how Neteyam feels right about now.

He doesn’t like being angry, hates the disgusting feeling that he feels clawing relentlessly at his chest. But he’s frustrated and heartbroken at your self inflicted absence and the warriors he’s training are his unfortunate victims. He pushes them hard, way harder than he probably should. Two of them have already had to go see the Tsahìk for their injuries and most of them look just about ready to drop from exertion. The anger he lets out on them doesn’t seem to quell any of the feelings still boiling inside him.

But then he sees you and it’s like time stops. The anger and frustration flee his body in a rush of relief. You’re here.

You’re hiding behind a tree just along the edge of the clearing. Why are you hiding? Maybe you’re trying to surprise him, stay out of sight until he’s done training so as to not distract him with your beauty. You would have. You’ve told him plenty of times that he has a staring problem. But he can’t help it. You’re just so breathtaking that he can’t help but want to stare at you all the time. You’re what he imagines Eywa incarnate to look like - a beauty so alluring and otherworldly that he just can’t bear to tear his eyes away.

The training session is just about done. He releases a majority of the warriors for the day and there’s only a few stragglers that need a few minutes of one-on-one training before he can send them on their way too. He doesn’t even know what he’s saying to them, letting muscle memory and repetition help him drag these last few minutes along as quickly as possible before he’s able to run over to you. He’s already decided that he’s going to take you out tonight. A date night, just like his father and mother have. It’s a time where you both can get away from the hustle and bustle of village and lab life and just be with each other. You clearly need it and he’s so desperate to spend time with you that he’s just about ready to kidnap you from your duties just so he can get a moment of peace just to stare at your gorgeous, unmasked face more.

Maybe do some other stuff too. Hopefully.

His heart hasn’t been the only needy thing of his without you.

The last warrior he’s with is really pushing his luck. How hard is it to switch a knife from a bladed upward position to a downward facing position with just one hand? It’s a simple wrist movement to perfect a move that might save your life one day and this skxawng keeps. dropping. the. knife. Neteyam’s seemingly endless patience is gone. He dismisses the warrior, words much too harsh to be considered professional but he doesn’t care. His mate is waiting for him and he doesn’t want to waste any more time.

He turns back to head to where you are, a giddy smile pulling at his lips, mood immediately flipping at the thought of finally seeing you, talking to you, holding you.

Except when he does it’s like he’s being doused with freezing water.

Another one of his warrior trainees, Oäpon, is standing in front of you and Neteyam can see how he’s purposefully bulging his muscles a little more to make them seem bigger - an action male Na’vi do when trying to attract a mate. Neteyam wants to rip those muscles out of his worthless body. He should be disgusted with himself with how fast his hand twitches towards the knife on his hip, ready to give no thoughts and just act on his emotions. He’s not impulsive, he’s not. But for once in his life he feels like he might actually kill one of his own clan members.

Would the Great Mother desert him if he did?

But you catch his attention again, the movement of your small step closer to the other man dragging his furious gaze back to you. Your gorgeous eyes aren’t on Neteyam like they should be, but instead on Oäpon in return. You’re smiling at him, grinning so wide that surely it's fake because you’ve never smiled at him like that before. Oäpon lifts his hand and there’s a deep purple flower between his fingers. The flower finds its way behind your ear and all Neteyam sees is red.

He’s across the clearing in a second, roaring snarls ripping from his chest as he tears the flower from behind your ear. He can hear Oäpon start to talk, to question what the fuck he’s doing, but the other man’s words are cut off with a pained gasp as he’s kicked to the ground and then he’s shock silent, fear written all over his face as he stares in horror at his kuru and the knife held in Neteyam’s inescapable grip.

“Don’t! Please, don’t,” Oäpon begs, voice shaking as he struggles to force the words out. “Great Mother, help! Please, don’t!”

“Neteyam, stop!” You yell, tiny fists beating at Netayam’s back, but he barely even feels them.

“She is mine!” Neteyam growls. “Mine. My mate. You do not touch her!”

“I didn’t know,” Oäpon whimpers. “I didn’t know. Please! I swear!”

He wants to do it, wants to slice through the braid so badly. He doesn’t deserve to have it. Kurus are sacred, the ability to connect to Eywa and her creatures is sacred. Attempting to defile the bond between a mated pair is nearly unheard of. Your screams for him to stop are just making the desire worse. You’re protecting him?! Protecting the thing that was trying to . . . no. No, no, no. He deserves to have it cut off, deserves to die.

Oäpon should kiss his feet in thanks for the mercy Neteyam shows by releasing him.

“I don’t ever want to see you near her again,” Neteyam shouts. Oäpon doesn’t respond, too busy scrambling away and darting across the clearing, but Neteyam knows he’s heard him.

“You’re a monster!” You scream, another fist coming down to hit at his back. “How could you do that to him?”

Your hits don’t stop and even through his rage he’s trying to be gentle with you. He catches your flying fists in one of his hands, holding them tight as he crouches in front of you trying to get on your level.

“Ma yawne, did he hurt you?”

Your eyes are wide as you stare at him in disbelief. “Did he hurt me? Are you kidding me?"

Neteyam’s brows furrow. “What do you mean?”

“You fucking–” You screech, Neteyam’s ears pinning against his skull from the high pitched, angry sound. “You–you–I–ARGH!”

You're so frustrated, so upset you can’t even speak properly. Maybe you are hurt - Neteyam’s eyes scan your body for injury, eyes lingering on the area around your ear where the flower had been. The flower now lays forgotten at your feet, crushed and ruined from his angry grip, and Neteyam can’t find any source of injury that might be causing your upset.

“You don’t have to worry,” Neteyam says, cupping your cheek with his free hand. “He won’t bother you anymore, I swear it.”

You jerk away from his touch. “What is wrong with you?”

“I don’t understand what you mean. Nothing is wrong?”

“No,” You shake your head, wrists still trying to twist out of his grip. “No, there’s something wrong with you. Something is seriously wrong with you,”

“You are upset, tìyawn. Tell me what I can–”

“Don’t call me that!” You scream, nose scrunching with the effort. “Stop calling me that!”

“Oh,” Neteyam’s swishing tail droops in disappointment. “I’m sorry, y/n. I didn’t know you didn’t like the name. I only meant to use it to show my love for you as my mate but I can–”

“We aren’t mates, Neteyam!” The words stab like a knife through his heart and his hand loosens around your wrists in shock enough for you to pull them out of his grasp. “We fucked once. A hookup, Neteyam. Sex, that’s it.”

“No,” He whispers.

Why are you saying this? How could you say this? He was there! He remembers that night more clearly than any other day of his life. You love him. He feels it, feels it with every fiber of his being. You let him into your body, wrapped him tight inside you like a promise that you would never let him go - like he would never have to be alone ever again. You caressed his bullet scar, and he remembers the feel of your gentle fingers silently mourning for it and for all he’s had to suffer. He remembers thinking that being there with you in that moment was worth every other hardship he has to endure. He can take on anything with you at his side.

“No,” He says again, disbelief coloring his tone. “How can you say that? We are mates! You’re mine!”

“No, we aren’t,”

“We are! I love you, y/n! Oel ngati kam–”

“We are not mated, Neteyam! We fucked. Mindless, hot, means-to-an-end-to-get-off sex. That’s it! Get that through your thick skull,”

He’s watching you as if in slow motion. You turn, stomping away from him as you start to head back into the forest and his brain feels like it’s going a million miles an hour. You’re mates. You are. You have to be - there’s no other way to explain the way he feels about you. The love and utter devotion he has for you. The need to be near you always - looking in your eyes, touching your skin, hearing your voice and the way you’ve always sounded so sweet saying his name. Eywa has blessed your union and he doesn't understand why you don’t feel the same way. Can’t you feel the same inescapable pull that he does? How your soul is tied to his in a way that surpasses even that of tsaheylu?

He reaches out to grab you before you get too far, fingers wrapping around your upper arm. Your own arm flies out around you and the sharp sound echoes through the forest and his sensitive ears before the pain registers on his cheek.

He’s never seen your eyes so wide before, crazed and panicked as you stare back into his equally shocked amber ones. Your hand is shaking, still raised in the follow through of the slap. The force of your smack is still heating up his cheek, and if he can feel it as much as he is now, he’s sure your hand is probably tingling.

Any other time he would check you for injuries. You’re so much more fragile than him - you could really hurt yourself if you’re not careful. But you just hit him. Your mate. The man that loves you more than anything. He’s frozen, body cold and not knowing how to react.

Don’t call me that.

Anger floods through him again. This was Oäpon’s fault. He tricked you, seduced you somehow - out from right under Neteyam’s nose. He should have killed him.

We are not mated.

You rip your arm out of his grip, wide eyes locked on him as he straightens his body, unfurling out of his crouched position as he rises to his full height. The shadow his body creates over you sends something primal through him. The darkened image of him completely overtaking your tiny figure makes him hungry. Possessive.

Just sex, Neteyam. That’s it.

He won’t let that worthless skxawng corrupt you anymore. You’re the love of his life, his tanhì. You’re just confused. You’re not thinking clearly.

You don’t mean it.

He feels like if he concentrates hard enough, he can hear the sound of your heart racing. Or maybe it's his own, the frantic thump thump thump thump thump of his heart pumping rushing blood into his ears and making him feel like there’s static in his brain.

When you turn to run, he’s not even shocked. His pupils dilate until there’s barely any color left, predatory gaze marked onto your back as you sprint into the dense Pandoran forest. Everything is so clear to him now. You’re testing him, wanting to see how loyal he is and how far he’ll go to keep you. You’re a beautiful woman, of course you’d have options. But you chose him for a reason, and now you want him to chase you - to prove himself a strong and worthy mate.

You want to play hard to get? Fine. He’ll play.

He’s a natural hunter, an apex predator - and you, tiny human, have just become his prey.

It might be fun to hunt you again - sometime in the future when this is all behind you. He’d be sure to make it as fair for you as possible: give you a head start, maybe allow you to rub some mud on your skin to hide your scent just to drag out the game a little longer, give you ample time and resources to find a good hiding spot where you can sit and try to listen with your not that great human hearing for any sign that he’s creeping up on your position. He’d wrap his arms around your waist when he inevitably finds you, smug grin tugging at his lips when your giggled shrieks pierce his eardrums as he pulls you from your oh so clever hiding spot. And then, he’d claim his prize, tearing your clothes from your body right there wherever he found you and fucking you until your giggly shrieking turns into blissful moaning.

This isn’t fun. It’s not a game. And your headstart is dwindling rapidly. You’re racing through the forest, running as fast as your feet will carry you. He can hear your heavy breaths, the sound of the ground crunching under your clumsy feet. He can smell you, the scent you’re leaving behind in your rush is a direct trail back to you for him to follow.

He doesn’t need it. He never lost sight of you.

One of his strides equal close to four of yours, and he covers ground quickly as he closes in on you. He catches you only a little further into the forest than where the chase started and you scream as he tackles you to the ground, the force of his momentum completely knocking you both off your feet. He doesn’t let you touch the ground on the fall, twisting his body enough to take the brunt of the impact. The action still leaves you breathless, dazed for a moment before seeming to come back to yourself and struggling to get off from on top of him.

His hold around your waist is secure and he uses the anchor he has around your waist to throw you on to the ground beside him before climbing on top of you and pinning both of your hands above your head with one of his.

“Get off me!” You scream, body struggling underneath him, hands pulling in his unrelenting grip as you try to get free, but you can barely move under his weight. “Get off me, Neteyam! Get off, get off, get o–”

His free hand latches around your throat, your words dying on your tongue as his fingers dig into the sides of your neck.

“Quiet!” He hisses, baring his fangs. “Be quiet!”

The aggressive display makes a small whimper rip from your throat and he can feel the vibrations tickle under his palm. You’re not quiet though, you never stay quiet - ever the talker that you are. You’d talk his ear off if you could. The only time you’ve ever stayed quiet is when you avoided him, and he refuses to let that happen again.

“Neteyam, please,” You whisper, eyes glistening with unshed tears. “You’re scaring me. Let’s just relax and talk about thi–”

“Shut up! Just shut up!” He growls. “You’ve said enough already, don’t you think?”

He releases your hands, grip on your throat loosening and moving down slightly until it's just a singular hand pressed against your chest to keep you pinned. Your hands immediately latch onto the large hand, one of your own clutching the back while the other curls around one of his long fingers. He feels how you pull at it, trying to get it off of you - and he knows how much harder you could be trying right now if you wanted to.

He lowers his face to yours, inches away so that his breath fans across your skin as he speaks. “You like to talk, but you don’t like words. You’ve made that clear. My words mean nothing to you.” He can feel how your quick breathing puffs against his face too, the warm air caressing his cheeks. “You need actions - a visual representation of my devotion to you. I see that now.”

In a flash, his hands are balling into her t-shirt, pulling roughly in either direction and the thin material gives easily under the pressure. You gasp as he rips your shirt down the middle, the torn fabric falling on either side of your body as he does the same with your bra with a quick snap of his wrist.

“What are you doing?!” You shout, but you can’t fool him now. He’s grown tired of your games and your body can’t lie to him.

“Don’t worry, yawne. I’ll give you what you need,”

The sound of ripping material echoes through the otherwise peaceful forest. Your shorts require just a bit more force to tear, but it’s barely a percentage of his full strength so the fabric comes apart at the seams easily leaving the ruined bottoms still around your waist and thighs, but a large opening right at your center. A rumble of satisfaction builds in his chest when he smells you, the first scent of your arousal permeating the air around you. You gasp when he rips your panties too, leaving nothing left of the light blue material but the thin elastic around your limbs and hips.

His mouth waters at the sight of your pretty pussy, bare and tempting and already getting so wet for him.

“Fuck,” You whimper, arms splayed out beside you, fingers gripping into the moss covered ground.

“You like it when I’m rough, huh?” Neteyam teases. “When I’m demanding and just take what I want from you?”

You shake your head, trying to deny it, but the way he can see your pussy’s responding clench is damning to your denial.

“I remember now,” Neteyam’s hand slides down your thigh and caresses your calf, long fingers wrapping around your leg as he presses a nipping kiss to your ankle just above your sock. “You loved how I shoved you down on the ground that night. It made you gush in your pretty little tewng, didn’t it?”

“S-shut up,”

“Hm, my muntxate likes being handled roughly, doesn’t she?”

Your response is a shocked squeal when he snatches your hips, hauling you up off the forest floor, the quick snapping of moss ripping from the ground as you’re abruptly pulled upwards. Your entire world is turned upside down as Neteyam dangles you like prey in front of him. He throws your legs over his shoulders and wraps a secure arm around your stomach to hold your lower back to his chest. The other hand holds onto your thigh to make sure to keep you spread before him as if you had any chance to wiggle away.

A choked sob rips from your throat as your hands reach for the ground, blood rushing to your head as your fingers stretch as far as they can trying to get leverage and hold yourself up. Your fingertips only just barely graze the soft green.

Neteyam groans as he enjoys the sight right in front of his face. You’re spread open for him, pussy perfectly framed by the destroyed fabric - dripping and glistening in want against the dimming sunlight despite yourself. He can see how you subconsciously contract and clench it, hole practically begging him to fill it with his tongue. He wants to bury his face in it, suffocate on your smell and taste until it’s all he can think about.

So he does.

He digs his face between your legs, tongue lapping at your folds like a man starved. He is. He didn’t get to do this your first time. It was too fast, too desperate. He couldn’t control himself with you. Everything about you calls to him like a siren, luring him in with your beauty and light. You dragged him down on top of you that night. You were already open, you told him - had fucked yourself with that fake cock he had found hidden in your drawers during an impromptu hangout in your bedroom at the lab. You still felt suffocatingly tight when he pushed in, but he had been grateful that he didn’t have to wait.

He had waited so long for the chance to be inside you that he felt like if he had waited another second without you he would have exploded.

Your back arches as he licks up your slit, moaning loudly as his textured tongue slides across your clit.

“Oh my god,” You gasp out, hands forgoing reaching for the ground and finding purchase on his thighs instead. “Neteyam, f-fuck,”

He hums in response, his tongue targeting the sensitive bundle of nerves, sliding and flicking relentlessly against the small bud as your moans and gasps get louder and louder. Your sounds are driving him crazy, the taste of you on his tongue setting every one of his nerves on fire. His cock is already hard, already working its way past his wet slit and tenting in his tewng. You taste so good, so perfect for him. He wonders what it feels like for you, how good it must feel for you to be writhing in his grip now, so vocal for him in your pleasure that your voice is already starting to sound a bit raspy from use. He bets his tongue feels better than any other man you’ve ever tried, the texture of it foreign and unique and unlike anything else you’ve ever had before.

It will be the same way for him too, he’s sure. He’s dreamed about it, fantasized and jerked off to the thought of your tongue, soft and silky, running up and down his cock. You’d torture him with it, be teasing and delicate in your licks, alternating between those featherlight, barely there teases against his lavender tip and firmer strokes down the base of his cock.

Your nails are digging into the meat of his thighs as he wraps his lips around your clit, panting breaths telling him yes, right there, Teyam, fuck, fuck, yes as your hips try to hump against his face. You’re right there, right on the edge, ready to fall over it with just a little bit more.

But he stops, reveling in your frustrated groan as he pulls his mouth away from your soaked core. His intense golden eyes meet yours when your head forces its way up, raspy voice whining a desperate ‘why’ as you feel your orgasm slipping away from you.

“Tell me you’re mine,” He demands. He needs to hear you say it.

“Teyam…”

He can’t bear to hear you deny him again. Can’t handle hearing you say the words that make him feel like his heart has been dunked in acid.

His lips latch onto your clit again, sucking harshly at the tiny bud and your words cut off with a gasp. He works you back up, your head falling back as he nips at your clit with his sharp teeth before licking down your slit to circle your entrance. You’re so tight, so so so tight around his tongue as he pushes it in. You clench around the wet muscle and then somehow clench even tighter when the hand gripping your thigh reaches over to rub firm circles on your clit.

“Teyam, oh god, Neteyam, please!” You beg, thighs squeezing his head as they try to force themselves closed. “I’m gonna cum. Please,”

You wail as he pulls his mouth away again, your hole clenching around nothing as your orgasm dissipates again.

“Say it,” He feels your whole body shiver as his words breathe hot air on your sensitive cunt. “You’re mine. Say it, y/n,”

You sob, frustration evident in every sound and twitch your body makes. You’re trying to lift your head again, looking up at him from your spot dangling below him like a puppet, and he wonders if all the blood rushing to your head from being upside down for so long is getting to you.

“Say it,” He repeats and then digs back in, the flat of his tongue roughly swiping over your clit before latching onto it again.

Your legs kick as he works you up again, overstimulated pussy throbbing as he plays you like an instrument he’s known for years. His cock is throbbing too, desperate to be released from the confines of his tewng and shown some attention. He wants so badly to push inside your soaking hole and feel how it’ll grip his cock within its slick walls.

“Neteyam, please!” You cry, and he knows you’re so close, right there again as he hurdles you back towards that just out of reach edge. He doesn’t stop the suction of his mouth. You’ll say it, he knows you will. You’ll say it because if you don’t, you won’t get to cum. He’ll keep you here, upside down in his unrelenting hold until you pass out from exhaustion before he’s going to let you go without saying it.

You’re a stubborn brat. He can see as he looks down your hanging body that you’re biting your lip. You want to say it - you’re just being stubborn. He sucks harder on the swollen bud, free hand smacking your hip and your asscheek just hard enough to make you cry and gush further on his tongue, the remaining remnants of your clothes doing very little to muffle the sting.

“Okay!” You yell. “Okay, okay, Neteyam! I’ll say it! I’m yours! Please, please let me cum!”

The words make Neteyam’s chest tighten. Finally. Finally, you’ve admitted it, and the excitement from the admission urges him to lick you faster. He’s sloppy and greedy as he eats you out, overeager and face wet to the point of dripping as he devours you for all you have. You cum on his tongue with a choked scream, hands reaching up to grab desperately at his arm encircling your waist, nails digging into the cerulean flesh as your back arches and your thighs clench tightly around his head.

He swallows everything you offer him, lapping up your juices like his favorite most treasured treat, before placing a protective hand on your back to steady you as he lowers you back down to safety.

“Mawey, yawne,” Neteyam coos, gently brushing away a few rogue pieces of moss stuck to your sweaty forehead. You’re still panting, exhaustion creeping over you as your eyes glaze over and threaten to close. The oxygen tube had unhooked from around your ear at some point during your experience upside down. Neteyam guides it back around your ear with careful fingers. “You’ve been such a good girl for me. Keep being a good girl while I fuck you, yes?”

Your eyes widen at the mention of fucking, shaking your head slightly even as the full bodied shivers of the orgasm’s aftershocks continue to wrack your body. “N-no, Teyam. C-can’t take i-it.”

Neteyam smiles, leaning forward to press a sweet kiss against your lips. The feel of your lips on his is almost enough to make him cum. He’s so worked up already, so high off the taste of your cunt on his tongue that all it takes is the loving press of your lips on his and he’s a second away from exploding in his tewng and ruining the fun.

“Yes, you can,” He says against your lips, his sharp teeth digging into your plush bottom lip just to hear you whine.

Last time he fucked you, he took you from the front. It was love making, a bonding of two souls coming together as one - a spiritual experience filled with panting breaths, eye contact, and the passionate coupling that comes with mating with the one your heart belongs to.

You don’t deserve that right now, not with the way you’ve hurt him - made him work for the love that should have been given freely. The things you said can’t just be forgotten. You need him to prove his worthiness to you? Prove his loyalty? Then fine, he’ll do that by giving you exactly what you deserve.

You yelp when he flips you over on your stomach, large hands grabbing your hips and hauling them up so your ass is in the air and on display for him. The remaining fabric of your shorts still cover nearly half of your ass, but the little coverage does nothing to diminish the amazing view. You try to push yourself up with your arms, but Neteyam is quick to shove you back down with a hand on the back of your neck.

“No, no, tìyawn,” He says, running a large hand over your exposed ass, his fingers teasing along the creamy slit of your pussy. “You said you’re mine, so let me see what’s mine.”

His teasing fingers find your hole and his teeth dig into his lower lip when he sees your thigh start trembling as he circles your entrance with the pad of his finger. You like it rough, he has to remind himself. You’re a human, so delicate compared to him that he naturally wants to be gentle with you. But that got him nowhere, it got him ignored. You respond to roughness, passion, him taking charge - so he doesn’t give you any warning before he’s plunging two long fingers inside you all the way to the knuckle.

You scream, slick walls squeezing around his fingers, your own hands once again ripping at the moss below you. The scream is agonized, oversensitive and pained from your earlier edging and orgasm. Your thighs are shaking, desperate sobs erupting from your throat. But the way you’re pushing back against him, rocking back against his invading fingers trying to get them deeper inside you tell him everything he needs to know.

“Look at you,” He coos. His fingers start up a steady rhythm, thrusting inside you with purpose as he stretches you open. “Such a little whore for me, aren’t you?”

Your moans are muffled against the ground, cheek pressed firmly against the moss from his hand pinning you down by his neck. You ignore his question, too lost in trying to push back against his hand and make him fuck you faster - so he rips his fingers from your gripping cunt, drops of your wetness flying from the force of his retreat, and his large hand lands harshly on your backside.

You howl at the smack, the sound of the slap against direct skin this time cracks through the forest like a gunshot.

“I asked if you’re my whore,” Neteyam repeats. It’s not as romantic as ‘I’m yours’, but still just as important.

“Yes, Teyam,” You whine. “I’m your whore.”

“Just for me, right? Only my whore,” Silence again, but your hips are still wiggling and searching for his fingers, so he rewards your silence with another sharp smack. “Say it, yawne,”

“Fuck!” You cry, ass feeling like it's on fire even as more of your slick drips down your thighs. “Yes, yes! Only for you, Teyam. Only for you,”

“Good girl,” Neteyam purrs, and you’re rewarded this time with his fingers sliding back inside your aching pussy.

He stretches you out on those two fingers, alternating between scissoring them inside you and curling them to rub at that special spongy spot that makes you squeal and see stars. He contemplates adding a third, but decides that he wants to finish stretching you out on his cock instead.

This time when you cum, it's less of a scream and more of a deep guttural groan that comes from deep inside you. It’s wetter than he expects it to be when you squeeze around his fingers, and the sight of your slick dripping from your mound onto the forest floor beneath you makes him feel absolutely feral.

He lets go of the back of your neck and pulls his fingers from your abused cunt. The wet fingers work frantically at the knots on his tewng and he feels like he can’t get the fucking thing off fast enough. When the knots come undone and the tan material flutters to the ground, he breathes a sigh of relief, thick needy cock springing from its confines to slap against his belly.

When he focuses back on you, your exhausted body is already trying to curl in a ball, eyes threatening to close as sleep calls to you. No, Neteyam thinks. He’s not done with you yet.

He flips you back on your stomach, pulling your hips back up high so they’re flush with his. You both groan as he rubs his hard cock between your folds, the tip nudging at your swollen clit. Fuck, you feel so good, pussy feeling like silk against his aching length. His eyes are locked onto where he’s lining his head with your entrance, watching in awe as he nudges himself forward, your greedy hole welcoming him in like you’ve been doing this forever. He can’t control his sounds, grunts and moans of pleasure echoing loudly through the trees as he sinks himself inside your slick walls. You’re so tight, even with the amount he’s stretched you out already you’re still so tight. But you stretch around him like you were made for him, made to take his cock into your depths - like your insides already know the exact shape of him and welcome him back into their warm embrace.

You whimper as he fills you up, back arching and hands clawing at the ground like you’re both trying to get away from him and closer to him at the same time.

“I fucked you so good, didn’t I?” He gunts, pulling halfway out of your gripping pussy before slamming back in, relishing in the tortured moan it pulls from you. “That night by the fire. Made you cum so many times, over and over again until you were so cock drunk you couldn’t speak.”

He pulls out again, just a little further this time before thrusting back in. He does it again, and again, the rhythm hard and unforgiving and he pulls your hips closer to his. In the back of his mind he fears that he’s being too mean, too rough, but your gasping hiccups and blissed out sighs contain any worry. This is as much for him as it is for you anyway. He’s allowed to be selfish.

“You’re always so talkative,” He pants. “Where’s that pretty voice now, huh? You were so talkative that night, just endless pleas of my name falling from your gorgeous lips. Like music to my ears. I wanna hear it again. Please, yawne?”

“Mmh, please,” You whine. “Please, Teyam,”

“Please what?”

“Faster,” You beg. “Fuck me faster,”

Who is he to deny such a sweet and pretty thing?

He leans forward, body curling over yours to cover you completely, one of his hands grabbing yours and linking your fingers together as he presses them both against the ground. His other hand is still on your hip, using it as leverage as he fucks your puffy pussy faster, the tip of his cock barreling against your cervix with each snap of his hips.

He can feel the knot on the base of his cock swelling, the large ball of tissue nudging at your entrance with each thrust. The instinct driven part of him urges him to push harder against you, to force the knot against your tight hole to see if it will fit.

He didn’t knot you that night, not wanting to risk hurting you or getting you pregnant so fast with such a new relationship. He came inside you with his fist wrapped tightly around his knot instead. Na’vi bonds are forever. Human bonds . . . now he’s not so sure. He’s not willing to risk it anymore. He’s going to bond with you in every way he knows how.

When he feels his orgasm creep up his spine, he lets instinct take over. His grip on your hip tightens, thrusts halting as he presses the enlarged ball against your soaked entrance.

You gasp, whimpering as his knot stretches you more. “Oh god, wait, wait,”

But it's too late. With another determined shove, the knot pops inside you and he has you trapped, locked on his cock until time decides to free you.

“Neteyam, i-it’s too b-big,” You whine, shock evident in your voice. “Hmh, so full,”

Neteyam plants soothing kisses on the back of your head and neck, the hand on your hip smoothing around your belly to caress the large bulge of the outline of his cock in your stomach. “I know, tìyawn. I know. It’s so much, but you’re doing so well. Just a little more for me, okay?”

He can’t thrust now, can't even so much as pull out an inch now that he’s locked inside you. So, he makes you do the work. He keeps one hand on the bulge in your tummy, the other hand coming down to rub relentlessly at your throbbing clit. The stimulation makes you keen, pussy clenching and tightening around him and working his aching length with your wet walls.

His fingers on your clit are your undoing. He barely hears any noise from you as your orgasm hits, but this time he’s able to see the side of your face as you come undone. Your eyes roll back into your head, mouth opening in a silent scream, but it's like all the breath has been stolen from your lungs. Your body tenses, muscles shaking through the overwhelming pleasure, and he feels as much as he hears how you gush and squirt all over his teasing digits and the ground below you.

He moans at the sight, the feel of your pussy clenching around his length and the wetness from your orgasm on his fingers and cock makes him tip over the edge. His orgasm crashes through him, tearing him apart as he spills himself inside you. His cum paints your walls, and his knot makes sure to keep every single drop of it inside you.

Neteyam collapses next to you, shaking as the aftershocks roll through him, and pulls your limp body safely against his. It will be at least an hour before the knot’s swelling goes down enough before he’s able to slip out. You let out a moan of pain as the knot pulls at your entrance as he adjusts you, but he sushes you.

“Relax, ma yawne. I’ll take care of you.” He coos. “Oel ngati kameie,”

You don’t say it back. You don’t even hear him, already dead to the world as your exhaustion finally catches up with you.

It’s okay. He knows in his heart that one day soon, you’ll say it back.

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#𝑻𝒂𝒍𝒊𝒆 𝑾𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒆𝒔 ✎#neteyam smut #neteyam x female reader smut #neteyam x human reader smut #tw: non con #tw: noncon #tw: dubcon #tw: dubious consent #tw: yandere

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