#she rarely whines
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Dog had surgery today (she did good! Nothing too serious. Old dog problems) Here she is sedated and drowsy on her way home from:
Tried to get her to lay on the dog blanket instead of standing stock still in the back seat staring into space, but she decided no. But at least she laid down.
And here she is literally 15 minutes later when I crouch down in a way that she thinks maybe suggests I'm possibly considering throwing the ball for her as opposed to checking on how she's doing:
She started whining when I told her that no. Not a chance. Not throwing that. Dog, you just had surgery. Your eyes aren't even focused. I know ball is life but c'mon.
#i just laugh that she whines at every single mild inconvenience when high#she rarely whines#but when sedated/recovering?#whines at E V E R Y T H I N G#it's so funny#cat standing in my way? MWHEEEEEEEeee#i don't know where other dad is? wheeeeeeee ):#blanket pile isn't perfectly situated for maximum comfort? weheeeehhhhheeee..
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No offense but the worst part of doing exposition is that I have no fucking clue what the hope county Sheriff’s Department did and didn't know about the seeds and their actions before the reaping
#i havent read absolution#but mary may and jerome (and nick?) all got marked with their sins BEFORE the reaping right?#and the department...didnt know???#like? the widowmaker was taken before the reaping too right?#and no one did anything about it?#i mean fair cops rarely do but still. what does syb know? what doesnt she know?#whining wombat
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The thing about different people with different disabilities having different, sometimes mutually exclusive, needs is that it’s definitely accurate in many situations and pretty obviously so when you think about it.
It’s also true of people with the same disabilities, as well, which I’m sure is also thoroughly established but seems less often discussed. For instance, my mother and I both have pretty severe generalized anxiety that runs in her family. But her anxiety is the sort where every cause for worry (real or not) feels like a world-ending crisis to her and must be dealt with RIGHT NOW or it’ll haunt her every waking thought. My anxiety is extremely avoidant—my inclination is to avoid not only the things I’m anxious about (which gives me a respite that also makes the possibility of actually facing the thing even more looming) but anything that even remotely reminds me of the things I’m anxious about until it reaches a point at which an anxiety-producing thing absolutely has to be done.
On the one hand, she’s genuinely more “on top of things” than me, since I procrastinate and she doesn’t. But hers is also an existence where every moment is filled with urgency and crises, and the constant lack of differentiation between “I can’t seem to breathe right” and “what if someone notices that the picture frames are different colors on this wall? they must be rearranged right now” makes my avoidant-anxiety brain just ... a;nkadsf;kkafdjkad.
#i am trying to procrastinate less and actually deal with things as efficiently as i can without burning out#but i'm not sure she can conceive of inconveniences and minor tasks not being heralds of the end times#she's soothed by activity; i'm soothed by calm#and yeah this definitely collides a lot even though we love each other a ton#anghraine babbles#anghraine whines#rare breed of attack unicorn
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How does Clarke support Lexa when she's on her period?
She goes completely taking care of her baby mode. Because, Lexa isnt the type to complain even when her cramps are killing her, Clarke knows she has to be the one to offer certain things or Lexa will try to brave the cramps with nothing. The hot water bottle always being switched just before it gets cold, the pain killers that Lexa says she doesn't need but that Clarke convinces her to take because she looks so miserable and if she wont take them for herself then at least she can take them for Clarke who hates to see her in pain. Clarke brings her tea and snacks and convinces Lexa to actually get some food in her stomach since Lexa cant even think to eat when she's in this much pain.
But mostly Clarke cuddles with her, not giving much of a shit if Lexa gets the sheets stained. She lets her sleep most of the day curled to her side and by the end of the day when Lexa conplains about feeling gross, she'll carry her to the shower and be there with her even if she hates how fucking hot Lexa likes her showers because because she knows they help with her cramps.
And because sometimes Lexa is just horny at the end of the night despite the cramps that are still there, Clarke will make sure to give her at least one orgasm and no, she doesnt care about the blood even if Lexa does and makes her feel a little embarrassed its nice to be treated so much like a princess when she feels gross and bloated and in pain.
#letter opened#especially if we are talking trans!clarke#that girl is on her phone looking up home remedies and foods and massages to aliviate period cramps#lexa is so rarely in pain or shows shes in pain that her being bent over herself whining makes clarke all 🥺🥺🥺🥺#and shes gotta help! shes gotta fix it!!!#lexa isnt used to being taken care of like this 🥺
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Forgot to bring my sketchbook to work again so you're just gonna have to think about my ocs really hard
#thought of mr. sibyl having a rare Mundane Moment of getting ready for a small party and gently whining about how he doesnt wanna go anymore#while his girlfriend adjusts his winter coat for him and says he might change his mind when he gets there#i should also just draw her in general she's cute but im still deciding on a name#something that starts with an 'O'#ramblings
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being a jujutsu sorcerer and a parent rarely ends well. sorcerers who have to fight for their lives everyday barely have any time and energy even for themselves. adding babies to the picture is hard to imagine.
but gojo was determined to balance his work and personal life when you entered his life, which is why he has a baby girl strapped to his chest as he holds up his hand and crosses his fingers, already to send a special grade curse into his domain.
"daddy~" his baby babbles, cheek squished against his purple uniform.
"yes, baby?" gojo smiles down at his baby and gently sweeps her hair out of her eyes. he pays little to no attention to the curse, who had already spread out their domain and is currently sending wave after wave of attacks, all of which gojo repels with a touch. "this is domain expansion," he gently explains to her, smirking at the curse who is obviously offended that he wasn't taking them seriously. "in a second, you're gonna see daddy's domain."
his baby blinks and shuffles around in the strap, whining a bit as she tries to get comfortable. for all she knows, it's too dark and hot and she misses mommy's smell.
before she knows it, the space around her begins to look like the night sky, and she can't see the curse anymore.
"this is my domain," her daddy says, but she misses seeing the sun. why is it nighttime all of the sudden?
"nooo" she whines as she kicks around. where's the ice cream he promised her earlier? and where is mommy? she doesn't want to go to sleep yet!
"not easily impressed, hm?" he laughs, protectively holding his baby's head against his chest as he closes up his domain after finishing off the curse.
"let's go get ice cream, yeah?" he ruffles her hair and holds up her hands, dancing them up in the air with a huge grin. the sunlight hits her face again and a smile quickly reappears. "you did so good today. did you learn a lot about jujutsu fights today? did'ja enjoy our little adventure together?"
"ice cweam" she smiles, doing a few happy kicks. and that's how the tradition of getting ice cream after missions started for the daddy-daughter pair.
#dad!gojo fills an empty spot in my heart#AW HE'S SO PERFECT#and then yaga found out he brings his baby to missions#and yaga quickly scolded gojo#“but my wife needs a girls' day” he just shrugs#he LIVES for these daddy-daughter adventures#when fighting a curse he's just like “my baby's watching so let me show off a bit”#gojo x reader#gojo satoru#jujutsu kaisen#gojo fluff#jjk x reader#gojo satoru x reader#gojo scenarios#gojo#dad!gojo
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COULD U DO MATTHEO X F READER DURING HER OVULATION WEEK AND SHES SUPER NEEDY AND HORNY? (Pls I’m ovulating and craving ur fics so bad babe😭🙏🧎🏼♀️)
I love how feral this is lmfao -
𝐍𝐨 𝐓𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐇𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐬 | 𝐌.𝐑.
Mattheo Riddle x Fem!Reader
Warnings: Established Relationship, Dark Fic, Violence, Language, Mention of drugs and alcohol, Slight fluff, Public Affections, Possessiveness, Smut (+18), Dirty Talk, Touch starvation, Fingering, Humping, Grinding, Whining, Sub/Dom Undertones, Blood Kink, Fighting Kink?, Squirting, Major Degradation, Praise Kink, Breeding Kink, Slight Humiliation Kink
The night is deep, and the dungeon is dim as a few sunken eyes peer curiously at you while you make your way through the crowd. Seeing you emerge from within the walls of your private dorm room was a rare and curious sight for everyone involved. It was especially rare for you to embed yourself amongst your fellow pupils shenanigans, seeing yourself as above such baseless devilment.
You were not here for them.
You were scanning the crowd for him because an unfamiliar warmth had been festering inside your stomach and it had propelled your feet forward, until you reached the very centre of the Slytherin soiree commencing in the common room.
Your core is still aching with the after affects of your fingers as you manoeuvre your way through the party. You were touching yourself under satin sheets only moments ago-spurred on by the imaginings of his bloodied fingers slipping inside you, stabbing your cunt until you mewled like a useless whore and he affirmed you as such. His recklessness and delinquency cracked something vital in your brain and you felt yourself get wetter as you pushed through the crowd. You needed him to touch you, your body practically burned for him to absolutely ruin you, and you set out to do just that.
Although you had turned down a concoction of Firewhiskey from an already inebriated Ravenclaw student, your stomach burns with the anticipation of seeing him.
Feeling him.
Smelling his near constant fragrance of Firewhiskey along his lips. You were never clingy but you wished for nothing more than to be in the presence of your insufferable and clingy boyfriend.
A month into your courtship, and you had failed to bring up how much of his habits bypass all sensibilities in your brain. If only he knew how much his recklessness brought about an unmistakable moisture in between your thighs. That,coupled with his bruised and bloody knuckles, spurred on your need, especially during this time of the month.
It had been easy to maintain your composure throughout the rest of the month, effortless, even. Detachment and independence was a by-product of your personality, showing up in the way you shied away from Mattheo's public affections and always appearing uninterested in any of his verbal charms.
One such occasion; you had found him taking up purchase on your bed after an incredibly tiresome day as a Slytherin prefect.
"Make yourself scarce, Riddle. I'm not in the mood," He, of course, was delighted in your indifference- truthfully, he basked in it. Mattheo was somewhat of a masochist, craving the attention of someone so emotionally detached. The very second he noticed how unaffected you appeared with his shenanigans. He might as well have transfigured into a mermaid, because he was hooked.
"How easy you are to repel my affections," He said, letting a bandaged hand fall on his chest as he lay supine like a starfish on your Satin sheets, "How swiftly you deny my companionship-"
"Dont you have any orphans to torture?"
You mourn the past you... how indifferent she had been.
How utterly in control!
The bed dipped as he slithered closer, letting a hand rest on your shoulders as he began to knead the tense muscle there.
"Don't I get a 'How was your day, Riddle?' How did you sleep, Riddle? How did you acquire these bruises, Riddle, and I hope you looked hot doing it, Riddle" it was then that you glanced at the hand on your shoulder. Busted knuckles bred bloodied and broken skin. Riddle's hand was a smorgasbord of cuts and bruises that disappeared up his black, cotton sleeve shirt. You ignored the useless warmth knotting in your core as you continued to undo your shoelaces.
"I needn't ask you because I know you were in the centre of yet another degenerate fight," you had said, burying all the feelings of need amongst your usual, scholarly distractions.
"You love it"
"I hate it actually. It makes me question my affiliation with you.
"You say that princess, but you secretly love it"
You did love it, and right now, distracting yourself is not an option. You watch with bated breath as the object of your affections walks into the Slytherin common rooms. There are plenty of bodies swaying in the dungeons illuminated by various Ravenclaws who have casted Lumos
You see Riddle across the room, head thrown back while he nursed a cup of Firewhiskey. When his head comes back, he sees you too, he raises his cup and he pushes himself off the wall to lessen the distance between you. Your legs certainly achieve a quicker gait as you push past the swaying bodies and soon enough you're bombarded by firewhiskey, with an undercurrent of sweat and leather.
The second you’re close, Riddle lowers his cup on the desk, already having his explanations ready for the impending combat. "If you think I'm gonna let you take my freedom away again, you’re fucking crazy. I'm barely buzzed and I'm getting drunk, or high by the end of this night and there's nothing you-" But your fist is already digging into the softness of his button up shirt and your lips are open as you force them onto his.
Right there, in the open.
Mattheo is naturally stunned, possibly discombobulated.
Had he really gotten higher than he thought?
Did that fucking Hufflepuff make him a stepped on joint?
Frankly, he couldn't care less, and as the shock of it all wore down, and he could feel you begin to slip away, Mattheo slithers his battered hand around your waist and pulls you impossibly close. He smirks into the kiss, as he brings his hand up, fingers gliding across your collarbone, while the other hand lingers around your waist.
"What happened to your hand?" It is a question that threatens to burst the bubble established between the two of you. Why would you ask him this? Why would you bring him back to the events of earlier today when you were so prettily malleable in his hands right now?
"Nothing,"
"Matt..." You say, clouding your words with innuendo, which has him looking up at you with furrowed brows.
"Nott," Is all he says before he buries himself in the crook of your neck. His proximity awakens something animalistic inside of you, it pushes you to the depths of your lascivious desires and has you melting right there on the dance floor. All around you, fellow Slytherins continue to sway to the beat, letting the thrum of the enchanted muggle music speak for them. You throw your head back, gasping at the overwhelming need pooling in your core as Riddle begins to send reckless kisses down your collarbone, all while you imagine beating another guy silly. You blame your cycle. You blame your body. You blame every single hormone responsible for allowing you to emit such a wanton moan so openly in the very centre of a crowd.
"Who do I have to kill in order to get this reaction out of you everyday?" Mattheo is panting, with his hazel eyes dilated (whether from pleasure or substance, you might never know). Who do I have to curse in order to get you to be this slutty for me every single day?" His breathing is shallow and audible, even through all the noise. Mattheo's mind is foggy and the party guests are reduced to a memory. The only image he's able to conjure up is his lips between your wet folds - his tongue eager to find the source of your need while you moaned above him and kneaded your own breasts in a slutty haze.
"I need you, Mattheo," it was fucking infuriating to admit but the wetness has completely soaked through your underwear and a fresh scar is present in the corner of Mattheo's eye. There's a slight red smudge under his nose, and his knuckles are red and angry at the best of your neck, cradling your head close to his.
"Say that again-"
"What? No, I will not fucking-"
Mattheo's grip on your neck immediately unhooks and he detangles your limbs but before he ventures any furthers you're pulling him down to you and with your lips to Mattheo's greedy ears you angrily mutter, "I fucking need you. I need you really badly,"
He stares in your desperate, dark eyes with wonder and awe before letting your wrist be enclosed by his iron grip. Soon, you're being dragged through a Slytherin party with a boy adjusting the front lf his pants and barking orders at the drunken strangers to move before they fucking died.
Just as you succeed in cutting through the crowd a voice stops both of you in your tracks.
"I'm going to fucking kill you, Riddle," the voice booms from over the thumping bass of whatever muggle music was enchanted over the dungeon. Mattheo's gaze cuts away from you, but before he turns completely away, a slow Cheshire cat grin curls at the ends of his lips.
"That threat has grown so unimaginably tedious after years of overuse, Theo but I can't do this right now-" His sentence has already been cut short by an audible blow to his lower jaw. Theo Nott blocked your path towards the darkened hallway, leading to your dorm room and you're left wholly unsatisfied as Mattheo is sent barreling backwards. He lets go of your hand, stopping to wipe the wetness at the corners of his lips and checking to see if it's blood. It is. And something scratches inside of you.
The Prefect inside you wants to intervene but an even darker part of you tells you not to.
Theo is livid, and his wide chest rises and falls as he descends on Mattheo,
"Why the fuck am I being told by Draco of all people, that I can't play Keeper because I'm stuck in the hospital wing-"
"Theo, I really don't have the time for this-" Mattheo begins, but Theo cuts him short,
"Are you trying to steal my fucking place, Riddle?"
Mattheo's voice is leveled as he raises his fingers and says, "Okay, first off, yeah, I am. Obviously I'm trying to take your place. You're a shit Keeper and secondly, I've got somewhere to be," Theo's barreling towards Mattheo once more.
A silly, borderline maniacal smirk explodes on Riddle's face before he makes the shotgun decision to charge and lands a punch at Theo's jaw, allowing for the taller boy to stagger backwards. Your shoulders jump, and you flinch at the sickening sound as you watch with a wide gaze as Mattheo nurses his hurt hand. Theo is a raging bull, but Draco appears from the crowd, with a firm grip on Theo's shoulder. A stern, quiet reprimand.
At the exact same moment, Mattheo's hand finds yours and he smirks as he stalks past Nott, wiping away at his chin as he leads you towards your dorm.
The quietness within is almost jarring compared to the noise out there and as soon as the door closes, Mattheo's lips descend on your neck, "I know, I know," He sighs heavily, as he brings his hand up to your shoulder, "I’m sorry. I just hope I haven't ruined the vibe-"
"I want your fingers inside me, Riddle." He stills at your quiet command, and you leave him standing by the door as you pad over to your bed. "I don't know why, but I just need you, okay? And my own fingers aren't quite doing the trick and I keep thinking about how fucking crazy you are and-", You sigh as you sit at the foot of the bed. Lifting the skirt of your dress, Mattheo watches in the dimness of your room as you venture your fingers under your dress and hook them into your panties. He walks towards you, propelling the wings of the butterflies in your stomach.
All he says is, "Which hand?" He doesn't know why he asks, but he does and his voice is barely above a whisper as he hopes you pick the right answer. His cock twitches in his underwear at the thought of seeing his blood on your skin.
Mattheo stops in between your legs, causing the fabric of the dress to rise while a breeze drifts over your soaked pussy. You bend forward and reach for his bloodied hand.
"I want your fingers inside me,"
Mattheo's resolve immediately snaps and his hands grip tightly at your hips, pushing you backwards and exposing your wet core to him.
"You're fucking dripping through the sheets like a slut- you're a fucking slut,"
Excitement. It rushes through you like a wave of magma at the neediness in his own voice.
Matheo rushes to rid both of you of the excess fabric, casting Evansco, until all he can see is your warm, glistening skin.
"Oh my fuck-" Mattheo's voice cracks as he stares down at your aching cunt, his fingers almost instinctively rubbing over the wetness.
"Touch your breasts," He commands, "I wanna see you do it,"
Your eyes pierce into his dark ones as you bring a shaky hand up towards your puckered nipples. The smallest brush elicits a violent streak of pleasure which would have occupied your entire mind were it not for Mattheo's long fingers already stabbing into your dripping cunt.
"Fuck, you're so wet," He whines, unconsciously burying his hips into the sheets at the foot of your bed as he watches. He is utterly transfixed by his middle and ring finger disappearing into your cunt. Every time they sink deeper your mind gets filled with images of Riddle's unrest and violence. You're utterly wrecked with the thought of his bloodied fingers being inside you, touching the most private parts of you.
"Pick up the pace, Riddle,"
"Shut the fuck up," He mumbles as he takes his time in exploring the very depths of you. Your voice soars to higher octaves as you feel your first orgasm cresting quite literally against your will. How utterly embarrassing, to cum so quickly.
"You're fucking squeezing my fingers- fuck-" You're desperately humping at his hand, hoping your hips might achieve the feat of sinking his fingers further into you. "You're humping my hand so fucking well." His cock aches as he continues to grind it into the sheets, in tandem with your swollen cunt taking his fingers.
"Are you seriously going to cum so soon? Are you that desperate to get fucked-" Your cunt spasms around his fingers and you're moaning as you squeeze your sensitive breasts, already soaring to the heights of your orgasm. Your screams rival the music outside but Riddle never tells you to keep quiet, instead he watches with hungry eyes as your body melts into its orgasm.
"Look at what the fuck you've done," Mattheo's words have you slowly coming back to earth, but not quite... his voice is heavy with lust as you raise yourself by your elbows. Your stomach sinks as you watch Mattheo, he's frozen in front of you, with his head lowered and his gaze on his palm.
"I-I'm sorry-" Your sheets were soaked with your release, leaving a visible damp spot. You squirted everywhere.
"You're gonna do that on my cock," before you can comprehend your words Mattheo already has his cock positioned at your wet folds.
"I'm going to fucking cum inside you and you're going to take it, yeah?" The serious shadow in his darkened eyes hold no room for negotiation, you'd never seen Mattheo quite this serious because seriousness just didn't run in his bloodstream. However, he's utterly ruined by your neediness, needing to take advantage of your compliance before it slipped through his fingers.
"Oh my fuck- Mattheo!"He pulls your hips towards the edge of the bed and his cock forces itself through your folds, until Mattheo is quite literally fucking you with reckless abandon.
"Matt- I can't-'' You're still riding on the sensitivity of your previous high and you think Mattheo could be a little mindful of this but his goal, it seems, is to leave you overstimulated.
"You can," he mumbles, with his eyes squeezing shut before he quickly opens them, wanting to see every emotion flowing over your face.
"You're a slut but you're not a useless slut, are you?" You tits bounce with every movement of Mattheo's hips, and you're shaking your head despite the fog. Your cunt is squeezing the life out of his cock and you feel him pushing at a very sensitive part of you.
Your head is buried in the pillows as your back arches and you swallow him deeper.
Mattheo bends forward, his hips quickening into a needy, restless rut as his teeth sink into the skin around your nipples.
"FUCK-" The pain bleeds into pleasure which streams into your next orgasm. Riddle moans around your skin, suckling at your nipple while he fucked you like he is as touch starved as you are.
"I'm cumming, Matt-" The fact that you're still able to form words is a complete and utter mystery because, not a second later, you're exploding around his cock. A gushing, clear liquid rushes through you while your lips chant his name like a prayer.
"I'm going to fucking breed you, baby- oh fuck, you're so pretty squirting around my cock-" the cracks in his voice; the desperation laced on every word has him cumming inside you, pushing his hips with every spurt of warmth.
You're still shuddering when Mattheo slumps over you. You're both huffing and puffing and basking in each other's release with his cock still very much inside you. "You're getting a contraception potion from Madame Pomfrey tomorrow," you can do nothing except nod as your satisfaction settles.
"I'll come with you," He says.
#mattheo riddle x you#mattheo riddle x reader#mattheo riddle smut#mattheo riddle imagine#mattheo riddle#mattheo x y/n#mattheo x you#hp fanfcition#hp fanfic#hp smut#harry potter x reader#harry potter smut#harry potter fanfic#mattheo riddle x black!reader#x reader
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And that right there is why I never leave my room
#why does she act like that#why is almost everything she says the most out of pocket and so rude and hurtful#I was trying to figure out what the dog wanted and she just randomly starts talking about all my failures and tells me to do better#as if I’m not fucking trying with every bit of energy I have already#but what does any of that have to with the dog?????#dog just stares at us and whines and I can’t figure out what the heck he wants or needs#he’s eaten all his food. he had a full bowl of water. I tried to let him outside to go potty he didn’t want to go.#I’ve given him treats. he doesn’t want to be in my room. he doesn’t want to be in the living room.#I’ve tried to play with him he’s not interested in playing with anything#I’ve tried to just sit down and give him attention and let him and he walks away from me#the only time that I leave my room is when he wants out#and the rare occurrence that I need food or the bathroom#he doesn’t want to sit with her. he doesn’t want to be with me in my room. he just stands there and whines
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pussy drunk coryo PLEASEEEEE I NEEEEED
short drabble of pussy drunk Coriolanus Snow cuz it's so hot i can't. this man would eat you out for hours and then fuck you after that
fem!reader, smut
warnings: using of 'you' referring to reader, NSFW || overstimulation, unprotected sex, fingering, oral, p in v, soft Coryo
18+ minors don't interact
Rarely are there days like today when Coriolanus can devote himself to pleasure without thinking about the fact that his Grandma'am could hear what was going on behind the wall, in his bedroom.
That's why he was incredibly grateful to Tigris for managing to get the old woman out of the house.
That way he could spend some time in private with you, without worrying that Grandma'am might have a heart attack if she found out that her little, innocent Coriolanus wasn't so innocent after all.
Usually, when you spend time together there is no way to have more fun.
Although the older woman doesn't have the best hearing this one seemed to get alert when Coriolanus was bringing someone home.
This was understandable. She didn't want little copies of Coriolanus running around Snow's apartment in the near future, but no exaggeration!
After all, the boy is growing up and sometimes needs to relieve himself in some way. Quickies weren't enough, so whenever his cousin decided to help by leading Grandma'am out of the apartment he always tried to use this time the best as he could.
At this point, his mind feels hazy as he is sitting in between your legs and eating you out like a starving man. His hands have a grip on your thighs holding you in place so you won't move away as he keeps abusing your clit sucking and brushing his tongue against your little bundle of nerves. He moans against your pussy, his fingers deep inside you. Your thighs are pressed to the sides of his head.
"Coryo, noo!" you whine when your boyfriend doesn't stop his action after you came again. He keeps going and his only reaction is looking up at you. His usually bright blue eyes darkened noticeably, and pupils widened.
His cock is painfully hard at this point but he won't touch yourself. Not now. Your pleasure is his pleasure and he can't pull away now. Your taste is just too addictive. His tongue slides between your folds as your grip on his blond curls tighten and back arches.
Coriolanus wasn't the most experienced but he knows your body as his own palm. He knows which spot will make you feel the best and moan the loudest.
You didn't have to wait long for your thighs to tighten around his head as a wave of pleasure washed through your body. You are breathing heavily and your grip on his hair loosens as he moves his mouth away with a small groan. Coriolanus presses soft kisses to your soft thighs and stands up from his knees. He approaches your tired body and leans down to kiss your lips softly. You moan against his lips feeling your taste on his tongue.
When you thought that this is the end you feel as he slowly pushes his cock between your folds. You whine still feeling sensitive but he kisses your forehead and wraps his arms around your body.
"Shhh, you can do that. Just enjoy, love" Coriolanus whispers and moans softly as he slowly lowers his hips.
You feel like his dick is stretching you nicely and shaky moans leave your parted lips. You start feeling sore but it's just too good to stop. Especially when Coryo presses his face to the crook of your neck and his sounds are making a knot in your abdomen tighten as he completely loose himself in feeling of your soft walls around him.
It won't end soon, that's for sure.
#coriolanus snow#coriolanus snow x reader#coriolanus x reader#coriolanus smut#coriolanus snow smut#the ballad of songbirds and snakes#the hunger games#tbosas#hunger games x reader#eldarya#young coriolanus snow#coriolanus x you#thg x reader#character x reader#x you#x reader
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✩‧₊˚ I HOPE NOBODY CATCH US !! .
(but i kinda hope they catch us, anyway)
#pairing : lucifer, adam, alastor, vox x gn reader
#cw: suggestive content, +18 mdni, cuss words lmao, getting caught in suggestive situations ig?? tentacles on alastors part my bad, vox likes to get caught.
#notes: guys please feel free to ask requests, i’m getting out of ideas and i don't know what you all wanna read on my blog help.
PART ll
˖ ˚ ༘✶ LUCIFER .
you both were having a pretty steamy make-out session in your hotel room at the hazbin hotel, clearly not the best idea since everyone was still at the hotel, and HELL does lucifer gets loud.
"ah-, my love, " he whines loudly, pressing his forked tongue deep inside you. feeling him humping against your bedsheets as you wrap your legs around his neck, you knew he was close. "lucifer, you make me feel so gooood~" you moaned, grabbing his horns as you felt like your orgasm was soon to come.
well, nobody warned you how SENSITIVE this man was when someone touched his horns; his wings literally popped out in a second. "fuck, fuck, i’m so close (name); can i cum, honey ? please i-"
a door opened, making lucifer wrap his wings around you both. "(name), i heard some noises. is everything alri-" well, this was akward. "IMSOSORRYISHOULDHAVEKNOCKED" she said, embarrased, closing the door, leaving you and lucifer with a flushed red since you both literally got caught, by HIS daughter WHILE having an orgasm.
after that 'accident' charlie started knocking every time she entered your dorm, and apologised to you many times.
˖ ˚ ༘✶ ADAM .
adam can be very tiring sometimes when keeping his hands to himself, he would literally fuck you anywhere so everyone could see who makes you feel so fucking good if you would just let him, but of course you wouldn’t allow something like that.
except for today, you and adam had a meeting with the other angels so you wouldn’t have guessed that your husband had already been planning on how to convince you to do not-so-holy-things to skip the meeting.
until, you started noticing how touchy he was getting with you, at the beginning it was a playfully kiss on your neck then a slap in you ass and somehow you ended up giving him a blowjob.
"you’re so hot when you shut the fuck up" he said, smirking while gripping your hair tightly to make you go deeper. "fucking bitch, sucking it while having you on your knees, as you fucking should 'cause im the original dick, babe!" letting him talk to you like that reeallyy turned him on, just the thought of you being so obedient to him makes him want to cum.
"what the fuck" a voice made you both turn, noticing a lute with a very disgusted look in her face cursing at you both for being so reckless.
sadly this wasn’t the first time lute walked in on you both, so she just left LMAO.
˖ ˚ ༘✶ ALASTOR .
alastor tries to have the least amount of physical contact during such activities, so it wasn’t a rare occasion for you to finger yourself, while listening to his voice telling you what to do.
you didn’t really know if it was because you were bored, or you were just horny, but you had the urge to have some intimacy with alastor. he didn’t mind because it had been a long time since you both had some intimacy.
"you have been such a good partner, my dear” he praised, smirking widely like he always did. "I think it would only be fair if i give you something in return."
well, that was 15 minutes ago, and now here you were feeling his tentacles thrusting into you so roughly. alastor would only chuckle at your expressions while ocassionaly telling you to touch yourself as he wanted. seeing you trying to get some release made his bulge twitch inside his pants.
well, at least it made it twitch until someone interrupted you both, making your partner disappear the tentacles who were just inside you a few seconds ago.
angel dust was the one who accidentaly walked in on you both, and alastor told him if he ever talked or made jokes about what happened he would transmite his screams on his radio broadcoast. angel dust still teases you though.
˖ ˚ ༘✶ VOX .
vox actually wants you both to get caught, like he really has no shame at all. he loves fucking you if it means that you both might get caught in the act.
sadly, you can’t even recall how you ended up with him having you bend over his desk right before a meeting with the VEES.
surely, you both could have stopped if you wanted, but why would you even consider that when he’s literally vibrating just in the right spot, making you fuzzy from the overstimulation.
"fuck, yeah" your boyfriend's voice is shaky as he keeps thrusting in you, seeing how his cum rolls down your thighs, makes him increase his pace. "you really want us to get caught, don’t you, babe? squeezing me around as if i would even think about fucking pulling it out" he says chuckling with a slight glitch on his voice. "ah- vox, it’s too much i-" vox slapped your ass, making you yelp from pleasure as you were feeling so overwhelmed.
both of you being so close to your orgasm, didn’t noticed when velvette and valentino entered the room until velvette shouted at you both for fucking like animals, and not waiting until being in a more private place, alongside her was just a valentino smirking, while being dragged by velvette. valentino would have been glad to accept the offer if you would have invited him though.
#lucifer x reader#adam x reader#alastor x reader#vox x reader#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel x reader#lucifer smut#adam smut#alastor smut#vox smut#hazbin hotel smut#getting caught#hazbin hotel fanfiction#lucifer morningstar#hazbin hotel lucifer#hazbin hotel adam
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𑄽୧ mommy kink with satoru 𔓘 ᰍ
kinktober day 11: needy boy!!!
✿ gojo satoru x reader
✿ warnings: mommy kink, breeding kink, p in v, baby trapping, rough
"She's beautiful," you say when Shoko places her daughter in your arms. It's true, her baby is the prettiest you've ever seen. You sit her on your lap, explaining little things to her. You can feel your boyfriend's eyes on her.
"What?" you ask him as the baby sucks on your thumb. He just shakes his head, muttering a little "Nothing."
The rest of the night goes smoothly except for the bubbly boyfriend being so quiet. Every time you're out in public, he's usually the life of the party, being the loudest in the room.
"What's wrong?" you ask him on the way home, but he shrugs you off.
"Are you jealous?" you continue with the questions. Your boyfriend gets rarely jealous, but you know that when he does, he doesn't hold back.
"I just find it interesting how well you play Mommy," he says, the last word rolling against his tongue sweetly. You don't understand what he's talking about, maybe he's jealous of a baby?
"She's just so cute." you sigh, looking down at your lap. You and Gojo both agreed that you're too young to have kids, but today you felt like a part of you got complete by holding the baby.
"Let's go to the bedroom." he encourages you as he parks the car. The atmosphere is still weird, but it's better than on the ride home. You climb up the stairs, Gojo right behind you. You don't even have the chance to close the door before he attacks you with kisses.
"So what's what it was all about? You being horny?" you ask him in between laughs and kisses. He doesn't respond, instead, he tugs on your dress, pulling it off your body. He's quick to take his own clothing off you, throwing you on the bed.
He usually takes some time to suck on your boobs or eat you out, but this time, he sticks his fingers right inside of you. And hell, he's so good at that. His palm is pressed against your clit, making the pleasure even more intense.
"How about we stretch this pussy out, mommy?" he smirks, his fingers working magic inside your little pussy. He knows exactly where to hit and rub to make a complete mess out of you. Your pussy produces more juices with every passing second, and you're not sure if it's because of his abilities or because of the name he calls you. You notice his other hand is rubbing his hard-on as he does his magic to your body.
"Please, I know you want it too," you beg, reaching to put your hand over his to touch his cock. he hisses but pulls your hand away.
Satoru finally knees in between your legs, his cock in his hand. He rubs his cock up and down your folds, teasing you until you are begging him to finally put it in. It's lovely how he doesn't have to use lube to slide inside of you so easily. You let a satisfied moan when he bottoms out. The feeling of being full is so calming.
But Gojo is not having any second of your relaxing as he slams his cock inside of you - hard. He pulls it out until the only tip is inside of you before slamming back in. He takes his time with his thrusts and you know it's because he's a little shit.
"Satoru, come on," you whine, digging your legs into his back to urge him to fuck you. He laughs, not caring about what you have to say.
"What did you say, mommy? you want me to fuck you."
Yes, you want to scream out. You want him to move inside of you. to completely wreck you.
As if he heard your thoughts, he finally moves inside you, ramming his way through your pussy. He's rough, but he knows what he's doing. You let your head fall on the mattress, finally satisfied from all of the teasing.
"Mommy, feels good? Doesn't she?" you whisper at his words, you feel like you're about to cum just from his calling you that.
"I'm gonna give you a baby tonight." he moans, hiking your legs higher on his back to hold you in half. Your brain stops for a second. Is he serious? Does he want kids? You're still on birth control, but it's Gojo, and his swimmers are skilled.
He kisses you on the lips, telling you how much he wants to get you pregnant.
"Please, mommy, get off birth control. Let's make sure you get pregnant." he pleads, his tongue sloppily meeting yours.
You're so close to your release that it would take one word from him to make you fall apart - completely. He's close too, cursing and almost shaking inside of you.
"Im gonna cum, baby. I'm gonna cum so much, mommy," he says and with one hard thrust, he cums right into your womb. The feeling of his filling you up sets you off the edge, and you cum with him, clenching around his cock and making him whine.
"Take all I have to give you, Mommy." his cum still shooting inside you. You're sure he came the hardest in his entire life. He tries to pull out of you, but his cum spills right on the bed, so he pushes back in.
You're both overstimulated, but it's also so intimate. He shuffles so you can lie comfortably with his cock still inside you. He stores your hair, telling you how great you did.
"Did you mean it? When you said you want kids?" you ask him, and you're surprised when he turns dark red.
"Yeah, I want kids. It will be awkward for them to call you mommy now."
taglist: @mcharris747 @huuuuut30 @krispsprite @bejewelledd @cawwn @veryninjanacho @jamayah @dngerwayz @nwptune @universlypiratecolor @ffakegucci @merachannie @d1lf-luvr @th3girln3xtdoor @nobody289x @iheartpieck @gia999 @kawasgirl @st4rrlighttt @candyeyeroll @7haze @banchangsbbbg @nigthmar3moon @softlilpeachxx @d1gitalbathh @jaennii
Yeah, it sure will be.
@satorustar @balenciagarette
#jjk smut#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x y/n#jujutsu kaisen smut#gojo satoru x reader#gojou satoru x reader#gojo satoru smut#gojo satoru headcanons#gojo satoru x y/n#gojo satoru x you
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SOMETHING VICTORIOUS !!! CS55 + CL16 + LN4 X FEM!READER (18+)
summary: the podium finishers weren’t the only thing that finished that night.
content warning: smut under the cut (minors dni!), explicit language, gangbang???, mmmf smut content, dubcon, pwp, double penetration + oral sex (m receiving), mentions of sexism/misogyny (NOT APPLIED TO DRIVERS), consensual degradation, squirting, praise kink, i did not proofread this (the race just finished two hours ago duh)
note: i have returned with a short blurb eheh enjoy xx
a - n masterlist // o - z masterlist
if you’d like to get on one of my taglists, check this post out
there was something vile about the way celebrations occurred for the ferrari drivers.
ferrari 1-2’s are rare, sure, so this called for celebration— a massive one even.
so if anyone ever saw how carlos and charles celebrated with their sweet girl, anyone would consider this… morbid.
for some, it was filthy. sinful, even.
but having walked into carlos sainz’s hotel room after the two scarlet drivers called it an ‘early night’, lando’s eyes couldn’t find themselves to look away when he found the woman sandwiched between the two.
both carlos and charles were spearing through her holes and carrying her like she weighed nothing, both foreheads were sweaty after fucking her the moment they’ve stepped inside the suite.
she couldn’t even find herself to talk, her body too busy being manipulated and moved around while both her holes were stuffed with their cocks.
any man could call her a whore for having not only one, but two men fuck her at once. any man could degrade her for allowing men to do this to her body while she writhed and whined about how good she felt when they stuffed her.
so, it was too bad that lando wasn’t just any man. he couldn’t even stop himself from watching unless someone killed him themselves.
the british man’s mouth was practically salivating when carlos lifted her up and sunk her down their cocks, watching her cunt produce liquids that indicated her pleasure.
lando was so busy gawking at the way her cunt throbbed around charles’ cock that he couldn’t feel anything but his own cock painfully throbbing under his trousers.
he was too busy watching that he didn’t notice the way charles and carlos glanced at him with amused smirks.
it was only when charles spoke up did he snap out of his thoughts.
“which one?” charles asked with a teasing smirk at the british man, making lando shake his thoughts away.
when he saw how lando got confused, charles repeated, “she expressed her interest in inviting you before but not once did we see how… interested you were.”
“now you’re here,” carlos laid her down on the king sized bed gently. “so which one?”
“i- uh- i-“ lando stammered, his buzzed self no longer there as every rational thoughts he had were long gone.
“hm,” charles hummed before looking at carlos who stood as well. “do you think she can handle another one?”
“yeah,” the three men looked at the woman on the bed, watching her hazy eyes glossing over the three as her mouth let out, “i want more cock in me…”
“atta girl,” lando’s eyes darkened when he saw how frail, sexy, hot and beautiful the naked woman was. he never truly saw her in a new light until lando saw how fucked out she looked.
so much for a podium celebration with the ferrari men.
anyone with two eyes could tell that this was a sight to behold: her cunt sinking down on carlos’ cock, her back hole preoccupied by charles, and her mouth full of lando.
it could be considered a renaissance painting, for she was a masterpiece waiting to be coated full of the three men who can paint her in any way they wanted her to be.
“oh fuck, baby,” lando groaned, growling as the tip of his cock reached the back of her throat. her muffled moans only added to his pleasure as her mouth vibrated around his length.
“mmf-“ she hummed around lando’s cock. her eyes glimmered. was it in joy or simply in overwhelming pleasure? both things correlate to one another.
charles thrusted inside her roughly, his hands digging to her hips. he growled lowly and nipped in her ear with a murmur of, “merde, your hole is too fucking snug, bebe. you’re so fucking good for me.”
“you like that, sì?” carlos reached up to pinch her nipples, eventually slapping her tits as she yelped around lando’s length. “hm? you like it when you have three cocks inside of you? you love being a good slut for us?”
when she was expected to give an answer, lando grabbed her hair and pulled her away from his cock. his other hand continued to stroke himself while he murmured, “c’mon baby, he wants an answer.”
she tried to utter a word, but it was only the light slap of lando’s palm that had her uttering, “yes- yes. i love your cocks so much.”
“good girl,” lando’s cock slapped against her cheek before he slid it back in her mouth, now fucking her face as the ferrari drivers behind and under her picked up their paces.
“fuck- fuck, good fucking girl,” lando praised her repeatedly, hearing her choke on him quietly as she tried to get a hold of herself.
she couldn’t. she was so… overwhelmed.
“i’m gonna fucking cum, merde,” charles hissed behind her, not even minding that his cock had gone deep inside her as he let out a groan.
“i can feel you— oh… fuck,” carlos groaned. “you are so fucking good and tight for me, bonita… you gonna cum, huh?”
she couldn’t respond, thus earning chuckles from the three men. regardless of whether or not she could, she was beginning to feel herself cum again. and again. and again.
never mind getting a podium or a race win, because the three men knew that she was the only one who deserved the victory and the celebration that occurred between the four of them.
it might be morbid for most, but god… no amount of champagne sprays can top the celebration she was having with the australian grand prix’s podium finishers.
♡ moony’s reminder 🅶 (general): @hiraethrhapsody @avaleineandafryingpan @enhacolor @roseandtulips @woweewoowa @magnummagnussen @happy-nico @architect-2015 @hiireadstuff @biancathecool @scorpiomindfuck @stinkyjax
♡ moony’s reminder 🅴 (explicit edition): @glitterf1 @savrose129 @maxillness @bigsimperika @xoscar03
#formula one imagine#f1 smut#♔ something sinful ⎯ f1 smut#f1 imagine#charles leclerc smut#carlos sainz jr smut#lando norris smut#cl16#cs55#ln4#lando norris#carlos sainz#charles leclerc#♛ something multiplied ⎯ poly!f1 smut
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Bruce being Cockblocked
Description: In which Bruce just wants to fuck his wife
Warnings: Bruce being horny, cursing
Word Count: 1.2k
It was rare but Bruce had allowed himself to sleep in. He found it so much easier to sleep in with his beautiful wife next to him. Her leg was currently slung around his waist and her bonnet-covered head was on his chest. He sighed in contentment. He liked to watch her sleep and it was a rare treat for him. He felt her stir against him as her eyes fluttered open. He pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead and she looked at him with a sleepy smile.
"How long do you think we have before the kids barge in?" He asked with a smirk. He rolled on top of her and hitched one of her legs against his thigh. He pressed his morning wood into her core.
"Maybe thirty minutes," She nearly moaned as he licked her neck.
"I can work with that," He murmured, placing kisses down the side of her neck. He raised her nightgown carefully and was pleasantly surprised when she wasn't wearing any panties. Just as he lowered his boxers, there was a knock on their bedroom door.
"Mommy, can you sign my permission slip? It's due today!" The voice of little Thomas Wayne said while jiggling the doorknob. Bruce had never been more glad that he locked that door the night before.
"I'll be in the shower," He groaned as he rolled off of his wife.
-
It wasn't until a week later that Y/N and Bruce had another moment to themselves. Bruce had once again remembered to lock their bedroom door. His wife sat in front of her vanity doing her nighttime skincare routine with her curls pulled back into a puff.
"I missed you," He said wrapping his arms around his wife's shoulders.
"I missed you too," She spoke softly while making eye contact with him through the mirror.
"The twins and Thomas are asleep," She mentioned with a small smirk playing upon her lips as she turned to face her husband.
"Does that mean I have my beautiful wife to myself?" Bruce's hand caressed his wife's soft face and she leaned into his touch.
"Yes, you do," She pressed a small kiss to his lips that quickly grew to be more passionate. Bruce reciprocated quickly and allowed his hands to find her waist. The two broke apart for air just as there was a knock on the door.
"Hey, ma. I threw up," Jason whined from the hallway. Bruce had forgotten that Jason and Dick were spending the night in the manor. Y/N had mentioned it being a part of their family bonding period.
"You are twenty-one (?) years old, just clean it up," Bruce yelled back across the door. He sighed in the nape of her neck and she just patted his back reassuringly.
"No, I want ma," Jason lightly slapped his hand against the door. Sometimes it was hard to remember that Jason Todd was a 240 lb and 6'3 man even though Y/N tried to set him up with her friend's daughters.
"I'll be right there Jason. Go lay down," She said using her 'mom' tone. She heard his feet shuffle away and realized it was most likely going to be a long night.
"You're such a good mother," Bruce said when he realised that Y/N would be leaving him to tend to their second eldest son
"That's why you love me," She placed one final kiss on his cheek before going to the kitchen for ginger ale and
-
Y/N hummed as she walked into Wayne Enterprises. Everyone knew who she was and no one thought twice as she entered Bruce's office and closed the door behind her. She smiled as her husband looked clearly stressed out but there would be time for that later.
"Bruce, I brought your lunch," She sat the brown bag on his desk and took a seat in the chair across the desk from him. She crossed her legs and smiled. She wore a fitted dress and cardigan while her hair was free in its coils today. Bruce's eyes trailed his wife's delectable thighs up and down.
"I'd rather be eating something else," He muttered before smiling at her lazily.
"Bruce!" She reached up and swatted his arm. Bruce just chuckled and pretended that her swat hurt.
"I miss my wife. It's been so long since we..."He admitted, his eyes never leaving her. If Bruce had one definite kink, it was most definitely eye contact.
"Do you remember the first time we had sex in your office?" She walked over to him and leaned against his desk. She even rocked it a bit to check its stability.
"Trust me, I've had the desk reinforced since then," He stood in front of her and pressed a kiss to her lips. His hands found the familiar curves of her waist and lifted
"Hey, Bruce. Here's the files you asked me for. Oh, hey Mom," Tim walked into the office with a bright smile. The boy looked surprisingly refreshed which means he was most likely napping in his office.
"Hey, Tim," Y/N said with a bright smile.
"Are you guys eating lunch? Can I have some?" He said noticing the brown bag that was on the desk. Tim managed to ignore the fact that his parents were clearly engaged in some sort of make-out session before he walked in.
"Sure," Bruce groaned. He liked spending time with his kids, sure but now he would have to go the whole day with boner like some kind of teenage boy.
"It's okay," She patted his shoulder once again and offered him a small kiss of pity.
-
"Is Bats okay?" Barry asked Clark as the two of them observed Bruce from the Watchtower. Bruce had bumped into the recruits repeatedly and yelled at one of the government agents aboard. Normally, he would've just said something a bit rude and brushed it off.
"What do you mean?" Clark asked.
"He's been snippier than usual. He's also like a little angry," Barry explained, shuddering at the thought of being yelled at by the Batman. It happened once and Barry went crying to Diana. Never again, he thought to himself.
"I'll talk to him," Clark agreed after watching Bruce stab his mashed potatoes with a fork.
"Bruce, you okay? Everyone's noticed that there is something up with you," Clark sat next to Bruce, who had just slipped off his cowl. He sighed loudly and ran one hand through his hair.
"Clark, I'm only telling you this because no one would believe you," Bruce spoke without a hint of malice.
"Okay?" He didn't know if that was a compliment or not but was overall glad that Bruce had agreed to open up a little.
"I haven't had sex with my wife in a while," Bruce admitted quietly.
"Well, you are of a certain age now. It's normal that you can-" Clark figured this was an age problem. He wasn't quite sure how old Bruce was but he knew it was older than most members of the Justice League.
"Getting it up is not the problem. The problem is that my kids hate me and keep cockblocking me," He was positive his kids didn't hate him but at this point, he thought they could sense when he wanted to have sex with his wife. The twins have even started crying whenever he would kiss Y/N.
"You'll get through it, buddy," Clark smiled and patted Bruce's shoulder softly. Bruce simply looked at Clark's hand in disgust before Clark walked away. Bruce, in fact, did get through it. It did take him buying a hotel and reserving the whole thing for the night but it worked.
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#x black!reader#black!reader#x black reader#black reader#bruce wayne x black!reader#bruce wayne#bruce wayne x reader#black!batmom#jason todd#bruce wayne x black!batmom#bruce wayne x black reader#tim drake#batman x reader#batman x black reader
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FORWARDS BECKON REBOUND
luke castellan x reader
based on this request !!
★ “mystery of lack, stabbing stars through my back”
ABOUT - luke castellan lovingly pissing off his girlfriend while she’s reading
WARNINGS - luke being annoying in a cute way
you’re alone in your cabin in the early afternoon, enjoying the silence that comes after your half-siblings leave to join in on camp activities for the day. you lay on your stomach with your back towards the ceiling, quietly reading a jane austen novel.
peace and quiet was a rare occurrence at camp half-blood- a rare occurrence that you consistently took advantage of. wether it be sneaking luke into your empty cabin during cold winter nights, exploiting the absence of the rest of your siblings as they go home for the year, or simply spending days reading for hours undisturbed.
so here you are, basking in the quiet of your cabin as you read peacefully. your elbows prop up your torso as you flip through the pages, letting your legs move idly.
suddenly, you hear the door to your cabin open with a loud creak. you whip your head around, only to find your loving, gentle boyfriend standing in the doorway. you watch him as he closes the door behind him.
“hey, princess,” he says breathily, walking over to you with his hands in his pockets. you nod softly, before turning your attention back to your book.
luke sits down at the end of your bed, watching you read in silence for a moment. sadly, luke is one of the most energetic and social people you have ever met, so you brace yourself for whatever he’ll say or do next- knowing the serenity of your afternoon will soon vanish.
“what’re you reading?” he asks quietly, before laying down next to you with his back sinking into your mattress. he turns his head to look at you, resting his hands on top of his stomach.
you turn a page, eyes locked on your book as you respond. “emma, by jane austen,” you say quietly. he nods, quiet giggles escaping his mouth. “of course you are.”
you both lay like this for a few minutes, luke trying not to disturb your peace and quiet. but watching you look so focused on your book, laying on your stomach with your hair cascading down your body- you looked too gorgeous to be left alone.
luke was starting to feel jealous of the fucking book, especially the way you’re holding it so delicately.
luke adjusts his position on your bed, turning to lay on his stomach with his head still facing towards yours. his body is pressed against the mattress lazily, but his hands are less relaxed. he moves his hand towards your arm, softly caressing the bare skin that was holding up your book.
“you okay?” you mumble quietly, still looking only at your book.
“mhm…” he nods, moving his head to lay on your shoulder. he reads the page, letting his body move much closer to yours. you giggle as he tilting his head down to kiss your neck, your cheeks turning pink.
he wraps an arm around your waist, resting his hand on your hip. he lets his head lay back down on the mattress as he begins to press soft kisses on the side of your torso.
you roll your eyes, trying to stifle a flustered smile. “luke, i’m trying to read…” you whine, finally turning your head to face him.
“i know, i know.” he murmurs, leaning in to kiss your forehead, taking advantage of the way your head is turned towards his.
you sigh, closing your book and placing it neatly onto your bedside table. he pouts at you as he grabs your waist, pulling you closer to him. you laugh quietly, wrapping your arm around his back as you bury your head in his chest. he kisses the top of your head as he softly rubs the side of your waist from under your shirt.
you groan quietly, shaking your head. “so needy…”
#luke castellan fluff#luke castellan x y/n#luke castellan x you#luke castellan fic#luke castellan imagine#luke castellan imagines#luke castellan x reader#luke castellan#percy jackson#percy jackon and the olympians#pjo x reader
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Appetizer
Summary: A night out with the team takes a delicious turn.
Pairing: Spencer Reid x F. Reader
Warnings: Smut. 18+ only. Minors DNI.
See my Masterlist Here
“Give me your panties.” Your boyfriend Spencer, commanded. He was different since he got out of prison. There was something dark about him now. You weren’t complaining. Sure, you missed the old Spencer, but now he was rougher with you.
The sex was good before, but now he didn’t treat you like a porcelain doll, afraid you would break even from the lightest touch. He was still sweet to you, but you would have to say the sex is better.
You look at him with wide eyes, reaching your hand under your dress to remove them. You place one hand on his forearm to steady yourself, pulling your feet out one at a time. You fold them, placing them in his outstretched hand. He puts them in his pocket, grabbing your hand before you leave to meet the rest of the team.
When you arrive, you take a seat next to Penelope. She beams as you settle in, telling you how beautiful you look. You order your drinks when the server stops by. Kristy, Matt’s wife is talking about their kids, but you stop listening when Spencer’s large hand caresses your thigh.
Your eyes meet his, he lifts an eyebrow at you. You turn back to the conversation, Spencer leans in, his hot breath tickling your ear, sending goosebumps down your arms. “I don’t want to hear a sound fall from those pretty lips. Do you understand?” You nod your head, breath caught in your throat.
“Alright love birds, get a room!” Penelope teases you. You smile and laugh, pretending you weren’t affected by Spencer’s words. You are suddenly thankful you chose a black dress, so nobody else would see your arousal flooding the fabric.
Spencer’s hand inches higher, so close to where you need him. You continue talking with the girls while Spencer talks about the case the team just solved with Luke and Rossi. You squirm, the anticipation making it hard to sit still. Spencer removes his hand, taking a sip from his drink.
You stifle a whine, pretending you have to cough. Spencer’s hand returns, higher than before. You wonder if he can feel your desire for him dripping down your thigh. Your silent question is answered when he rubs it into your soft skin. The heat from his hand makes you throb. If he would only move his hand a little to the left and put you out of your misery.
The server starts taking everyone’s orders starting with Penelope. She hands her menu to the smiling man, who acknowledges you. “For you, miss?” Spencer plunges two fingers inside you, and you can’t remember what you were going to order. You were lucky you didn’t cry out at the sudden intrusion.
The server smiles, but you can tell he is growing impatient. “I, umm.” You begin, but Spencer cuts you off. “She’ll have the steak medium rare.” He answers for you. You smile at him in appreciation as his slender fingers curl, hitting your g-spot.
You quickly grab your glass and bring it to your lips, trying to stay silent. His thumb slowly swirls your clit, and your vision goes blurry. You grab his arm, needing something to steady yourself. The server comes by with the appetizers for the table, giving you a sideways glance. For a brief second, you think he knows.
Any worries about that fade as quickly as they came while Spencer’s long fingers slide in and out of you. You’re silently praying that Penelope can’t hear the obscene squelching every time his fingers glide into you. She’s none the wiser, gushing to Tara about her latest date.
Spencer continues working you with slow strokes of his fingers, his thumb dragging across your clit in small movements. Your fingers dig into his leg under the table. You watch as he acts unaffected, eating the greasy appetizer with his free hand. You shouldn’t be this turned on in public, in front of your coworkers sitting right beside you.
The server returns with everyone’s meals as Spencer picks up his pace. He adds another finger, strumming your clit with his thumb. It’s an effort not to rock your hips into his hand when you are so close. His thumb works faster as he curls his long fingers once more, tipping you over the edge.
Your steak is placed in front of you, as your orgasm rips through you. You grip the table, needing to hold on. You’ve never came this hard in your life. “Are you alright, miss? Your face is flushed. Would you like some more water?”
“Y-yes please.” You manage to mumble as your pleasure fades. Everyone looks at you, Emily asks if you want her to go to the bathroom with you because you do look quite flushed. You refuse, blaming it on the restaurant being too hot.
After your refill of water, everyone starts to dig in. Spencer removes his hand from between your thighs, bringing his sticky fingers to his mouth. His tongue swirls around the tip of one of his fingers. “Mmm” he moans as your taste reaches his tongue. “If the main course is as delicious as the appetizer, I’ve found my new favorite restaurant.” He winks at you, wiping his hand on his napkin.
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ミ the mightiest
part 1 | part 2
🍓 pairing: neteyam x human fem reader
🍓tags: nsfw, aged up neteyam (obviously), jealousy, alien cultural misunderstandings, oral sex (f receiving) vaginal sex, size kink, voyeurism, brief na'vi oc x reader, mentions of reader sleeping with other na'vi men
masterlist
reblogs are always enormously appreciated!
notes: okay i had to split this into two parts because it surpassed the tumblr word limit 🙃 here’s part 1, and I’ll post part 2 in a day or two!
adult neteyam art created by the incredibly talented @cinetrix, whose work motivated me to write for adult neteyam in the first place!!
The tsahìk’s hut is cool and dark, offering a much needed reprieve from the hot balmy air of the day outside. It’s been a quiet day for you, though you can’t complain about that; it’s a pleasant change of pace from the usual hectic rush of people that usually pass through.
It’s one of the rare days that Mo’at has left you to tend to the duties of the healing hut alone; it had taken years to reach this level of trust with her, and you find yourself almost deliriously proud to be able to help out. Na’vi medicinal practices are very different to human ones, but your training in first-aid has given you enough knowledge and experience to hold your own when it comes to helping out with the smaller day-to-day ailments that tend to pass through the healing hut.
Besides, you’re always happy to give Mo’at a break. She had claimed that she needed time to commune with Eywa, though secretly you suspect that she just likes to take some time to herself in her old age. But that’s fine – you’ve always found helping out in the healing hut soothing, and your heart swells at the fact that Mo’at trusts you enough to leave you in charge, even if it’s only for a few hours.
It also helps when your patient is a big, hunky alien warrior with more muscles than brains, who sits in front of you as you smear a herbal paste over the scratches he had gotten in training earlier that day.
Txeyto is not an easy patient; he flinches when you prod his wounds, whines when you clean them, and complains as you smear the paste on his scrapes. It’s a little irritating, but the sight of his big broad shoulders and chiselled abdomen is enough to soothe the worst of your aggravation.
“Are you nearly finished?” Txeyto complains, flinching away from your fingers once more.
You bite your tongue and force a smile. Patience has never been your strong suit, and Txeyto is certainly testing the short reserves you have left. But he’s very handsome, and very skilled at archery, and you feel that his physical attractiveness outweighs the minor personality flaws.
“Yes, just another few moments.” You murmur, keeping your voice low and soothing as though speaking to a child.
Txeyto settles a little when you use the baby voice on him, and you struggle to keep your face blank at the ridiculousness of it all. Men are such children, even the big strong Na’vi warriors that should be above such behaviour. He’s lucky he’s handsome.
“How did you get these injuries, hm?” You ask, using a light touch to dab some of Mo’at’s specially formulated healing paste onto his scrapes. You keep your fingers as gentle as possible, but Txetyo still winces dramatically.
He perks up at your question, his tails swaying low over the floor where you’re both sat cross-legged. “I have been training very hard. I am one of the best archers in the village now.”
“No doubt.” You murmur distractedly as you work.
“But it is important for a tsamsiyu to be competent in many forms of combat, so I must practice my hand-to-hand combat also,” Txetyo continues, apparently forgetting to wince now that he’s talking. “Neteyam has been helping me train.”
Ah. You can’t help the face you make at that, and you’re thankful that Txeyto’s back is facing you so that he can’t see your expression. You also can’t help the way you cast a quick glance towards the entrance to the hut, as though worried that simply speaking the name aloud will summon Toruk Makto’s eldest son.
“Is that right?” You say, keeping your tone carefully neutral. “So, he’s the one that got you all scraped up like this?”
Txetyo’s shoulders flex under your hands, and you realise without looking at his face that you’ve stung his pride.
“I scraped him up also.” He grumbles, shifting to try and peer over his shoulder. “They are wounds to be proud of, as I got them in combat.”
You don’t think that a couple of minor scratches from wrestling around in the mud with one of the village’s biggest dickheads count as combat wounds, but you don’t argue. You just hum non-committedly, paying more attention to his bruises than is entirely necessary.
“You should be careful,” You say instead, running your fingers carefully over one of the bruises discolouring the pretty blue skin of his defined bicep. “It’s a shame to see these lovely muscles all bruised up.”
There’s a long moment’s pause. It seems as though the cogs in Txetyo’s head are working slowly, because he seems to be struggling to understand your flirty tone of voice. But when it finally seems to click, he turns his head to peer at you with wide, curious eyes.
“Ah,” He says, his shoulders squaring as he seems to preen. “You like them?”
God, he really is a little dumb. But that’s okay. You don’t necessarily need a man with brains.
“Mhmm,” You hum, allowing your hand to rest on the bulge of his bicep. “I like strong men.”
That’s true, if a little bit of an oversimplification. You’ve lived as a human on Pandora your whole life, but it was only in recent years since you’ve reached adulthood that you’ve started really paying attention to the people around you. And good lord, you had some impressive specimens to look at.
You find yourself drawn to their athletic and toned bodies, their radiant blue skin, their cat-like grace and agility. Maybe it’s because you had grown up on Pandora with no humans your age other than Spider, but you find yourself especially drawn to your size. The sheer size of their hands alone are enough to fluster you, especially when your brain is flooded with images of those big hands in other contexts.
And luckily for you, there’s no shortage of Na’vi that are interested in experimenting with humans, too.
Txetyo visibly perks up, his ears twitching forward as he finally seems to notice the way your much smaller hands are lingering on his body as you patch him up.
“I am very strong.” He says, tail thumping against the ground.
You fight the urge to sigh. He’ll never make a great conversationalist, but that’s alright. He’s big and strong and handsome, and you just want to relieve some tension.
“I know.” You murmur, your lips quirking a little as you shuffle around so that you’re kneeling in front of him, your knees pressed close to his thighs. “But I could still kiss your scratches better, if you’d like.”
Kissing wounds better is definitely a human colloquialism that Txetyo doesn’t understand, judging by the furrow of his brow, but he doesn’t seem to care. He reaches out and wraps a big hand around your waist, and you feel a pulse of arousal low in your belly in response.
“You like my muscles so much that treating my wounds has aroused you?” He asks, the smugness in his voice impossible to miss.
His pompousness is a little irritating, but you can ignore that because his hands are big and warm and it’s exciting to feel his palm start to push its way under your cotton tank top. The few Na’vi men you’ve been with before had been absolutely fascinated with the soft squishiness of your human breasts, so your breath hitches in anticipation as his hand reaches up to grope at your tits over your bra.
Okay, you can probably admit that you’re a little pent up. It’s probably a terrible idea to allow Txetyo to feel you up like this in the middle of the healing hut, but you’re horny.
If you’re telling the truth, you’ve been hoping for a chance like this all week – but there’s one thing, one irritation, that has been preventing you by interrupting every damn chance you’ve gotten alone with any man.
In fact, you’ve been interrupted so often and so many times that you’re almost expecting it, even as Txetyo’s big hands squeeze at your tits. He’s a little rough with it, but he’s so much bigger than you that you suppose that’s unavoidable – besides, his strength only adds to the thrill.
Then, just like clockwork, as though there’s some kind of sensor that goes off whenever you’re about to get some, there’s a rustling sound by the entrance of the hut before the little woven drape covering the doorway is pulled back.
And then, who else would be standing there, but Neteyam. One of the few people on the whole planet that can actually ruin your whole day just by showing his stupid face.
His eyes find you, but his expression doesn’t change as he glances over your flustered expression and the hand that Txetyo still has shoved up your top. He tilts his head, and it feels as though he’s examining every damn detail all at once; the ointment smeared all over Txetyo’s bruises from training, the way you’ve shuffled so close to Txetyo that you’re practically straddling his thigh, your unsteady breathing behind your mask.
“Ah. Am I interrupting?” He asks with a hint of wry humour to his voice, as though he hasn’t interrupted every attempt at getting laid you’ve made this month.
It has to be on purpose. That, or he has some sort of nearly supernatural sense for when you’re horny, because he always seems to show up every goddamned time. Somehow it’s gotten worse in the last few weeks, too. You’ve barely been able to get a moment alone with whoever you’ve been chatting up before Neteyam has appeared, snapping at them to get back to training or duties or whatever lousy excuse he’s been able to come up with in the moment.
“What do you want?” You snap, impatient and too strung tight to waste your energy on pretending at politeness.
A very delayed reaction finally hits Txetyo, and he scrambles to remove his hand from the inside of your top. His hand alone is so large that the outline of it is painfully obvious even through your shirt, and you close your eyes with a sigh as he clumsily pushes himself away from you in a rather ungainly attempt at pretending nothing was going on.
“Neteyam!” He blurts, his ears flattening against his skull. He’s clearly mortified at being caught in such a position by Toruk Makto’s son, and he overcompensates by attempting to scoot away as though he hadn’t even been touching you.
You try not to roll your eyes – you’re used to this, after all. You’ve been with several Na’vi men, but they all seem to have the same sort of embarrassment about actually being open with the fact that they’ve hooked up with you. You can’t be all that annoyed about it, you suppose. You understand where it’s coming from. You’ve been around the Omaticaya your whole life, and while the taboo of having Sky People around has faded somewhat, that doesn’t mean that anyone is actually willing to admit that they’ve been with you.
You’re used to it. It’s fine. You’re just a little mortified that Neteyam is currently witnessing the scramble for Txetyo to get away from you.
He’s watching the other man with his head still tilted to the side, his big golden eyes dark in the cool shade of the hut. A muscle in his jaw is flexing, like he’s trying not to laugh.
“I will- I will see you later?” Txetyo whispers to you as he stands. He probably intended for his voice to be low enough that it stayed between just you and him, but the hut is quiet enough that there’s no doubt Neteyam can hear him just fine.
“Mhm. Yeah.” You murmur back, watching Txetyo’s big broad back as he steps away from you, all hasty and flustered.
Txetyo gets as far as Neteyam, who’s still standing with his arms crossed in the doorway. Neteyam doesn’t so much as shift, his eyes dragging with lazy satisfaction over the myriad of scrapes and bruises that he had left on Txetyo during their sparring earlier.
Txetyo shifts on his feet, visibly nervous in the face of his future chief’s judgement. “Ah… Will we train again tomorrow, Neteyam?”
Neteyam hums non-committedly, before finally stepping away from the doorway. He brushes past Txetyo, and you wonder if he’s always so dismissive of his fellow warriors or if he’s just being an even bigger dickhead today for some reason.
“We will see.” Neteyam says shortly, though he’s not even looking Txetyo’s way.
Taking that as the dismissal it so clearly is, Txetyo nods awkwardly before disappearing out of the hut, leaving you and Neteyam alone.
For a long moment, you do your best to avoid looking up. You’re beyond irritated right now, made so much worse by the fact that your panties are kind of wet and you’re so fucking desperate for attention right now. The little wooden bowls knock together clumsily as you try to arrange them without looking up, but it becomes difficult when Neteyam lowers himself down to sit opposite you.
“The tsahìk’s hut is a bold place for such activities.” He says, and you don’t have to look up to know that there’s a stupid smug look on his face. “What would my grandmother think?”
As he sits down, he places a woven bag by your knee. You don’t need to look at it to know what it is; he’s always bringing stuff to the healing hut for his grandmother. Herbs or medicinal plants, fibres for weaving bandages, even animal bones that he had whittled down for needles for suturing.
Even you can grudgingly admit it’s thoughtful; but he only ever seems to bring it when you’re around. It’s like he just wants to rub it in your face that he excels at everything he does – it’s extremely annoying.
You finally look up, your face already scrunched in a scowl. “What do you want?”
He raises his hairless brows at you, an expression he no doubt learned from his father. “I would like my cuts from training treated. What else would I be here for?”
And now you know that he’s just messing with you, because while Txetyo was covered in bruises and abrasions from his tough training session earlier, Neteyam doesn’t have a single visible scratch.
“What exactly am I supposed to treat?” You ask, voice tight.
Neteyam shifts, proffering you his shoulder, and you see a single scrape along his otherwise flawless striped blue skin. You purse your lips, staring at it in mild disbelief.
“You can’t be serious.” You say, deadpan.
But it’s clear that Neteyam is serious, because he’s already stretching out on the comfy woven rugs of his grandmother’s hut as if he belongs there. It’s obvious that he has no intention of moving – he must have come here just to torture you.
You blow out a frustrated breath, the inside of your respirator mask fogging up briefly before rapidly clearing. Neteyam is infuriating. He gets under your skin in a way that no one else does, as though he knows every goddamn little button to press just to aggravate you.
Maybe it’s just a by-product of having been raised as next in line to lead the Omaticaya, or of being Toruk Makto’s oldest son, but you’ve always found Neteyam closed off and distant.
Truthfully, you can’t say for certain if he’s always been this way. When you were young teenagers, you hadn’t had much contact with him; he was always busy with his own training, and then the whole Sully family had left for Awa’atlu. When they had returned, several years later, Neteyam had been more reserved, and yet somehow even cockier and more confident than ever.
“I don’t understand you. There’s no need for you to get this scrape seen to, and you know it. You just like wasting my time.”
He just watches you as you complain, his eyes hooded and dark in a way that honestly leaves you a little heated. He doesn’t deny it, which only irritates you further. You knew he was just trying to annoy you!
“It’s your job to treat wounds when you’re here, isn’t it?” He asks, and you can see the way his tail is lazily undulating behind him, skimming across the woven carpet. He’s enjoying arguing with you.
You huff out a put-upon sigh, before grabbing two of the jars. The ointment is naturally antiseptic but it goes on with quite a sting; you try not to feel satisfied about that as you coat your fingers in it before dabbing it onto the scrape on Neteyam’s shoulder. You’re not as gentle as you’d usually be either, your patience is too thin for you to be considerate with him right now.
But this is not Txetyo. This is Neteyam, and he doesn’t so much as flinch as you rub the paste over his still sluggishly bleeding scratch, even though you know it must sting. You try not to feel irked by his stoicism.
As you work, Neteyam’s head rolls back. In a move that’s almost imperceptible, his nostrils flare and he scents the air. You assume it’s the fairly astringent scent of the herbal paste you’ve just pulled out that’s bothering him, and you raise an eyebrow at him.
“Problem?”
His lips quirk, though he manages to keep his expression neutral. “No. I am simply enjoying being under your tender care.”
You narrow your eyes at him. He’s mocking you now.
The fact that he had walked in on Txetyo’s hand up your top as he groped at your tits feels like a heavy unspoken weight in between you as you dab at his minor wound. You keep waiting for him to bring it up, to laugh at you for it, but he remains stubbornly quiet as you work, his golden eyes watching you in quiet contemplation.
In fact, he’s never brought up any of the times he’s interrupted you right before you got with someone. He’s caught you in varying levels of undress, with Na’vi men over you, under you, holding you, touching you, kissing you, but somehow just before anything good actually happened. Every time the men had scrambled away from you as though you were something diseased, mortified at being caught with a tawtute by Neteyam, a man that (for some reason you can’t comprehend) they seem to have an awful lot of respect for.
In the beginning, you were inclined to come up with excuses for him; he was Jake Sully’s oldest son, and was inevitably going to keep track of his peers and where they disappeared off to when they had duties that they should be attending to. But now, you think he’s doing it to spite you specifically. It might be a bit of a self-centred thing to believe, but you’re almost certain of it.
You shift on your knees beside him, raising yourself up a little to ensure that you’ve covered all parts of his scrape. You don’t want him returning tomorrow to complain that you didn’t do a good job.
You have to bite back another sigh as you do so, your thighs rubbing together in a way that sends a sharp jolt up your spine. You’re horny and needy and so, so resentful of the fact that you’re now treating the same man that’s the direct cause of your state right now.
Neteyam’s attitude wasn’t the only thing that changed in his time away, however. You have to keep your eyes fixed carefully on his bruising shoulder, because if you didn’t you know that your gaze would wander, and that’s a dangerous game to be playing in the presence of someone as perceptive as Neteyam.
But it’s difficult not to look. Time and ocean air has been kind to him; he’s grown as tall as his father, and whatever sort of training or work he had been doing with the Metkayina has resulted in broader shoulders and a more sturdy build than is typical of the Omaticaya. It’s galling to admit, and makes you feel as though you’ve eaten something sour and unpleasant, but Neteyam is hot as hell.
He might be aggravating and smug and too cocky, but no one in their right mind could deny that he’s attractive. Not even you. Especially you, if you’re being honest with yourself, considering your penchant for enormous blue alien men that could snap you in two with a pinkie if they felt so inclined.
God, you really have to think about something else. You’re so wet that your panties are starting to get uncomfortable, so you focus determinedly on the resentment that’s still simmering over the fact that Neteyam had interrupted what was promising to be a very productive encounter with Txetyo.
Neteyam shuffles a little where he’s sitting in front of you, and your eyes track the way his muscles bunch and shift under his vibrant blue skin. Damn, but seeing Na’vi musculature up close never gets old, even if it’s Neteyam.
You’re almost finished with dabbing paste on the tiny scrape (and you hate to admit that it had taken you longer than it should have due to your distraction), when Neteyam half-turns his head towards you.
“My back is sore, also.” He murmurs, though his eyes remain downcast.
You pause, staring at him. “Okay. And?”
There’s a moment where the two of you just look expectantly at each other. When nothing comes of that, Neteyam speaks again.
“You are playing healer today, are you not?” He asks, and his left ear twitches oddly. “Or is your attention all reserved for Txetyo, hm?”
Your cheeks heat in humiliation and your jaw clenches. You knew he wouldn’t be able to help himself from making some sort of stupid comment.
“Lay down.” You snap, prickly and embarrassed.
“Yes ma’am.” Neteyam purrs, probably all satisfied that he’s gotten under your skin. He reclines, all of those lithe muscles flexing and bunching as he rolls over onto his stomach.
You grab another pot of ointment, and then take a moment to steady yourself.
You know that he’s winding you up on purpose, just like always, but you can never figure out why. He doesn’t treat you like any of the other men in the village do – they might enjoy fucking you, but they’re rarely caught dead in public with you, worried about what it might mean for their own reputations.
Neteyam is bolder, more confident; though the burden of responsibility that he carries is unmistakable, he never seems to get caught up with the petty whispering and musings of the village people. It’s just unfortunate that he seems so set on bothering you.
Your mouth goes dry as your eyes drop mindlessly over the expanse of his long, pretty back. His skin is stretched tight over lithe muscle, little luminescent white freckles glinting like little stars. He looks so smooth, though the flawlessness of his body is marred by thick pale scars that litter his skin, courtesy of the near legendary battle with the RDA that you hear happened off the coast of Awa’atlu.
You glance down, flustered. Fuck. It would be so much easier to hate him if he wasn’t physically perfect.
“Problem?” Neteyam’s voice is a little lower in register than it was before, perhaps because he’s lying on his stomach with his head pillowed under his crossed arms.
You twitch. Shit. You had gotten distracted, and had lost yourself staring at him.
“No. Shut up.” You blurt reflexively, dipping your fingers into the oily ointment used for easing sore muscles.
Neteyam huffs quietly, a sound that could be a grunt or a laugh, but doesn’t bother responding. It makes you feel as though you’ve lost a game you didn’t know you were playing.
Antsy and on edge, you lean forward and survey his strong back properly. When he's laying out in front of you like this you can see the way his back is knotted with tension and his shoulders are hiked up around his ears. It doesn't look too bad, but it can't be comfortable either.
You take one more moment to admire the musculature of his shoulders, before gathering yourself and dipping your fingers into the ointment. It's balmy against your fingers and smells a little bit like blueberries, and begins to tingle when your hand is entirely coated.
"Where does it hurt most?" You ask, your voice quiet.
In the silence, you can hear Neteyam’s throat click when he swallows.
"My neck and shoulders." When he speaks, his voice is a little deeper than expected.
The very first touch to Neteyam’s back pulls a quiet sigh out of him; it sounds like relief.
Considering his size, it takes surprisingly little to have him melting under your hands. Your fingers spread under his scapula, finding a knot in the muscle and pressing in hard. It takes a bit of finagling, but after some firm pressure you feel the muscle begin to soften beneath your touch.
Gaining confidence, you return your kneading fingers to his neck. He really is terribly tense, and shivering spasms flit up and down the muscles of his back in regular intervals as you drag the warm palms of your hands over him. As your fingers work into his tense muscles, he lets out quiet little grunts that are muffled by the cradle of his arms.
“Why were you so hard on Txetyo during training?” You ask as your fingers dig into the tense tissue of his back. Your voice is unintentionally loud in the quiet of the hut. “He looked as though he had been attacked by a thanator when he was here earlier.”
Neteyam just grunts. “Txetyo is an overconfident skxawng. He is not nearly as skilled as he thinks he is.”
You click your tongue, dissatisfied with that answer. “I could say the same about you.”
Just like all your attempts to insult him, your words seem to bounce right off him. Stupid thick-skinned bastard. His pretty mouth tilts up in a smile.
“I have the skills to back it up, paskalin.”
Your lips purse at the name, your cheeks hot. God, he’s such an asshole.
When you exert pressure as you run your fingers down his spine, Neteyam grunts softly into his arms. The sound is startling in the quiet, interrupting the steady rhythm of your quiet breathing.
"Does that hurt?" You ask. Your voice comes out a little shakier than you’d like.
"No." Neteyam’s voice comes out in a low, gravelly rumble. The sound of it almost startles you into snatching your hands away, but you manage to refrain yourself. "Keep going."
You just swallow thickly, and try to keep yourself on task. “He just wants to be better. He was excited to train with you–”
“Lower.” Neteyam groans, shifting under your hands.
You clench your teeth. Really, you should probably just walk away from him. There’s no real need for you to be doing any of this. He’s not even injured, and who knows whether he’s telling the truth about his back being tense.
But you’re stupid, and you’ve never been good at walking away, from either fighting or fucking. This strange encounter feels as though it lies somewhere in the middle of those two things. Your palms drag down to his lower back, and he flinches briefly before melting under your touch.
His body is so big that it’s difficult to get a good angle to knead properly at his tense muscles, and before you can think too hard about it you swing your leg over his hips. You settle back, perching your weight cautiously at the base of his spine.
It's a braver move than you would usually make, but you try not to second-guess yourself — like this, you have so much more leverage to rub at the rigid sinews of his back. You drag your knuckles down the length of his spine and he groans into the cradle of his arms.
You try to ignore the excited flutter in your belly. It’s just Neteyam. You’re not actually getting turned on from this; the only reason you’re so affected is because you had been horny with Txetyo. You shift where you’re sitting on his back, but you have to force yourself still almost immediately, because the friction nearly makes your lungs seize.
“Comfortable?” Neteyam murmurs, and you can hear amusement in his voice.
“Shut up.” You say reflexively, before scowling. “I can’t believe you interrupted me and Txetyo just for this. You have, like, one bruise–”
“It’s a very sore bruise.” He murmurs lazily, sounding unbothered. “Do you think squeezing your tits might help? That seemed to help Txetyo feel better.”
You pause, jaw dropping in indignation. “I– shut up!”
Neteyam makes a noise that sounds like a snicker, and you dig your fingers down the planes of his back vengefully. His waist narrows into an elegant taper, and when you reach the part of his back where his ass begins to swell, you exert firm pressure against the base of his tail.
If you had done it to a human, you know it would have hurt. But instead the tightness of the muscle unfurls under your fingers, and Neteyam gives a long, low groan. The sound is delightfully gravelly, and you take a breath as you feel molten heat ooze down into your belly and settle between your legs. It’s not a reaction you had been expecting.
You sit back onto his lower back, avoiding his tail. From here, you have a truly captivating view of how slick his back looks from the ointment, and how his skin glows in the dim light of the hut. His body really is perfect, and your eyes track over the taut shiny scars that litter his skin.
“Mmm. May I get up? Or do you want to sit on me a little while longer?” Neteyam’s low voice breaks you out of your stupor, and you’re horrified to find that you’ve just been sitting there with your wet panties pressed against his back beneath your thin shorts.
You scramble off him quickly, flustered and clumsy. It had been a bold move to straddle him in the first place, and now you feel very stupid about it.
“You should apologise to Txetyo.” You blurt, just to say something into the silence.
“Why are we still talking about Txetyo?” Neteyam has always been a relatively tolerant and even-keeled man, but you can hear irritation beginning to bubble up in his voice.
“Because–” You start to say, but then Neteyam rolls over so that he’s laying on his back.
Now that he's lying on his back, stretched out all long and lithe, your eyes rove over his face and then down his throat, his chest, his stomach, his hips. Your eyes catch on the protrusion between his legs and stick there, your mouth dropping open in surprise when you see that his loincloth is tented.
“Because- he… you were too–” You try valiantly to finish your sentence, but your thoughts have scattered to the wind.
He’s hard. Why the fuck is he hard? Is that just from you rubbing his back? Oh my god, what are you supposed to say? It feels like his hard-on is staring at you.
Neteyam pushes himself up into a sitting position, his hands planted on the woven rug behind him as he pushes himself up so that he’s sitting looming over you. Once he’s upright, Neteyam flexes his shoulders and groans slightly as he goes. It doesn't sound like a pained groan, thankfully.
The movement brings him closer to you than you had been expecting, and you end up freezing. Like this, you can see the way his expression has smoothed into one of relief. His shoulders are looser too, no longer held bunched up around his neck.
Neteyam doesn't seem to notice your close proximity, nor the way you have tensed at the lack of space between them. You’re not touching, but you’re so close that you swear you can physically feel the air between you.
“If Txetyo is so upset about being beaten by me in training, then he should focus on getting better instead of slinking away with his tail between his legs and trying to screw you in a corner of my grandmother’s hut.”
You gape at him like an absolute idiot, floored by the acerbity in his tone. You’ve always thought Neteyam was a bit of a dickhead, but that was mostly because of his nearly insufferable need to always be the best. Always the best warrior, the best son, the best brother, the best future Olo’eyktan. The best role model to his peers.
“So that’s what this is about.” You say, your voice coming out distinctly accusatory. “You don’t like that your friends are fucking a human, is that it?”
Neteyam doesn’t even bother answering. He just rolls his now loosened shoulders and watches you carefully. He doesn't tell you to back off, or wrinkle his nose at you, or act as though he's repulsed by you. He just stares at you across the miniscule space between you, and that only angers you further.
“Is that why you keep interrupting whenever I’m with any of the other tsamsiyu?” You demand, fists clenching. “What, you don’t like that your friends find a tawtute attractive? Is that why you keep cockblocking me?”
Neteyam huffs a quiet snort, as though he thinks you’re being stupid.
“I hear what some of the Na’vi in the village say, about how it’s shameful to be with a tawtute.” You hiss. “I just didn’t think you’d be one of them.”
And if you’re honest with yourself, it sort of hurts. Neteyam has always gotten on your nerves with his confusing mix of overconfidence and jagged insecurities, and he had really infuriated you when he had started to interrupt all of those illicit little meetups you had planned with some of the boys in the village, but you hadn’t actually thought that he had any disdain for you like some of the other Na’vi.
And then you do something so stupid that it shocks even you.
Your eyes drop back down to the tent in his tewng, eyeing it thoughtfully, before reaching out and running your fingers over the hardened outline of his cock through the fabric with purpose.
Neteyam hisses, and his hips actually lift off the floor in an attempt to follow your touch.
“God, you’re a hypocrite, aren’t you?” You breathe, fighting to keep your voice casual. “How can you judge your friends for fucking around with me when you’re this hard after just a backrub?”
“They’re not my friends.” Neteyam grunts, his jaw clenching as his head tilts back. His hips rock into your hand.
Your touch goes firmer, and then your hand slips under his loincloth. You’ve had plenty of sexual encounters with Na’vi men, but this is different.
This is Neteyam. This encounter feels like proving a point. A very sexually charged point.
His cock is silky smooth and hot to the touch, and you feel a little drunk as your fingers close around it. And damn, it feels big. All Na’vi cocks are big compared to your hands, but this… feels different. You were aroused anyway, you’ve been feeling pent up all damn week, but now that your hand is on his dick your nerves are fizzing up.
It’s a surprise when Neteyam’s big hand settles on your waist to tug you closer, and you feel your stomach swoop when he pulls you forward. You don’t release his cock even as he pulls you to settle over one of his thighs, your legs slotted in between his, and you can feel him harden even further beneath you.
You wonder absently if it's really you that's causing his very obvious arousal or if it's just a natural consequence of the massage; either way, when his hips flex up towards you, they press right in between your legs.
You shiver almost violently, the sensation of him pressing hot and hard against your core frying your nerves and wiping your thoughts clean. The part of your brain that had been screaming about what a bad idea this whole thing is has become muffled now, and your own hips jerk against his.
“You’re such an asshole,” You say, though your voice comes out reedy and breathless. “You of all people don’t have a right to talk shit about those guys just cause they’re into humans, especially when your cock is this hard, and especially considering where your dad came from–”
He lets out a soft, quiet noise as you move against him, and uses his grip on the back of your top to pull you tighter against him yet again. “Don’t talk about my father when you have my cock in your hand.”
It takes what feels like a monumental effort to wrench your hand away from him, and he lets out a wordless grunt of dissatisfaction as his hips twitch in an effort to follow your hand. It’s delightfully pathetic, and you feel your ego swell at the sheer sense of power that washes over you; it’s a rare feeling, especially when you’re faced with a big blue alien almost twice your size.
“You should apologise to Txetyo.” You sound like an out of breath idiot. “It’s not like you can judge him for being with a tawtute when you’re that hard from me just touching you.”
Neteyam just stares at you, his jaw clenching and his honey eyes dark as he takes several breaths through his nose. You’ve never seen him like this before; you’ve never seen any of the men you’ve been with like this before. It looks as though he’s holding onto a thin veneer of control, and you wonder if he’s angry with you, if you’ve perhaps pushed him too far.
“That was never the issue.” He says and fuck, his voice has gone so gravelly. “And don’t pretend that you’re not wet beneath those clothes of yours. I can smell it.”
Your thighs squeeze together as you swallow hard, struggling to maintain your aura of indifference and no doubt failing.
“That’s because of Txetyo.” You say, and it tastes like a lie on your tongue. “You interrupted us.”
Neteyam laughs quietly and humourlessly. His expression suggests that he doesn’t find anything about this conversation funny, and his hand is still splayed across your back. You’re so damn conscious of how big his palm is as it spreads across your spine. Why the hell hasn’t he let go of you yet?
“Ah, I see.” Neteyam murmurs. “You would have fucked him in my grandmother’s hut?”
Your mouth is so damn dry, and you swallow compulsively. “It’s not any of your business who I fuck.”
Neteyam’s smile is grim. “Txetyo would fuck his own shadow if he were nimble enough to catch it. You have terrible taste in men.”
You rear back. You’re surprised by how much that hurts. Living as a human on Pandora is lonely, and it’s not like you have people lining up outside the human outpost looking to spend time with you. If you want any sort of companionship or intimacy, you have to accept any attention that you can get. And sure, most of that attention comes from men that only want to get their dicks wet, or the experience of being with a tawtute, but it’s better than nothing at all.
“Well, we can’t all be the Olo’eyktan’s son.” You say, your voice stiff and cold. “We don’t all have countless suitors throwing themselves at our feet. Some of us have to accept attention from whoever’s interested.”
Neteyam’s expression shifts, an odd look appearing in his eyes, and your stomach swoops. You don’t think you could bear to see pity in his eyes, so you pull away from him, shaking his hands off.
“Your scratch is fine.” You say, your voice thin and a little thready. “You’re all treated.
“Hey–”
As you stumble to your feet, Neteyam reaches out as if to stop you. You dodge his hands, unable to look him in the eye.
Panic is starting to set in now; what had you been thinking, touching him like that just after he had chided you for flirting with Txetyo in the tsahìk’s hut? God, you feel like such an idiot. He must think you’re so pathetic.
Like a coward, you turn on your heel and flee out of the hut. You need air, you need to be out of the cool darkness of the hut, you need to be away from the overwhelming weight of Neteyam’s presence. Through the blood rushing in your ears you can distantly hear Neteyam call to you, but you’re too desperate to escape from the whole humiliating interaction to stop and listen.
You stagger out of the hut, squinting at the evening light; it seems blinding after spending all day in the dim musty air of Mo’at’s healing hut. You pat at your rumpled shirt and creased denim shorts, flustered and frenzied as you try to straighten yourself out.
“Tawtute?”
You jerk, gasping, and whirl to find that Txetyo is sitting on a log a few feet away from the hut, apparently waiting for you to finish up with Neteyam. You feel like you’re burning up from a mixture of mortification and confused arousal and you’re certain that Neteyam is about to follow you out.
“I– I have to go!” You blurt, already stepping back towards the forest.
Txetyo frowns, obviously bewildered, but he doesn’t stand. “Don’t you want to–”
You don’t wait for him to finish. You’re already fleeing, disappearing into the trees as you run the whole way home.
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ
It might be a little cowardly, but you avoid the village for days after that.
You stick to the outpost, watching Norm and Max and the other scientists work. You try not to die of boredom, and you try not to overthink and overthink and overthink.
But you have too much time on your hands as you slink around the outpost, and you can’t stop feeling guilty about abandoning your attempts to help Mo’at out in her healing hut.
You also can’t stop thinking about the shift of Neteyam’s muscles in the low dim light, or the silky hot feel of his cock in your hand, or the soft breathy grunts he had let out as his hips rocked. It feels like the experience has actually rewired your brain, as though you’ll never recover from it.
Growing up on Pandora as a human has been lonely. The only other human your age is Spider, who had become the closest thing you have to a brother – and you love him even when you feel like throttling him, but sometimes you just yearn for more.
You want companionship, you want understanding, you want romance, you want sexual intimacy. You don’t think it’s too much to ask for, and if you have to turn to big nine-feet-tall Na’vi warriors who just want to say they’ve had the experience of sleeping with a tawtute, then that’s… fine. Even if it’s only temporary.
Part of you is honestly relieved when Spider finally manages to force you out of the outpost and back to the village. It’s a relief to get back into the forest, to the village, to the life you’re used to. The outpost has nothing on the vibrancy of the village life, and you feel as though you can breathe for the first time in days upon stepping back into the village, even if it’s through your respirator mask.
There’s been a big hunt today, and the village is buzzing with excitement. You pass by several willowy Na’vi covered in celebratory paint, and follow the sound of the heavy thumping of drums.
The evening after a hunt is always a joyful affair, and you gradually start to relax throughout the night. You feast on collected fruit, hum along to some of the music, and sit comfortably with Spider all evening. At some point you’re joined by Lo’ak, which you don’t mind either; Lo’ak has always been the kind of outcast that fits comfortably between the edges of you and Spider. Those edges have smoothed out as he got older, but he’s always been a cool guy to hang out with.
When he’s not joining Spider in ganging up on you, that is.
“So– so wait, wait, let me get this straight,” Lo’ak is waving his hands as though trying to settle down a group of rowdy children, even though it’s just the three of you present. “Neteyam walked in on you fucking again, but this time it was in grandmother’s hut–”
You’re sat around the large campfire in the middle of the village, tucked away from the main celebrations. Part of you is flourishing being in this environment again, but another part is withering at this damn conversation. You glance around nervously, hoping that no casual observers can hear you guys talking.
“Txetyo only had his hand up my top!” You hiss hastily. “We weren’t actually– and we would have gone somewhere else when it came down to it!”
“Txetyo is a dickhead.” Spider complains, leaning heavily on your side. He’s so frequently dwarfed by the Na’vi that it’s easy to forget that he’s over six-feet-tall and corded with muscle, and his bulk is heavy.
Irritatingly, Lo’ak leans into you the same way on the other side, though he’s more careful about leaning his full weight, and you end up crushed in between the two idiots.
“He isn’t.” You protest, pushing back against their weight. “He’s–”
“Nah, he is.” Lo’ak interrupts before you can defend him. “Total skxawng. You know he keeps telling people he’s the best archer in the clan? And yet he didn’t manage to catch anything in today’s hunt–”
You try not to wince at that. It’s impossible to miss that while Txetyo may not have been successful in the hunt today, someone else is being lauded for their skill and success.
Neteyam has been given a place of honour by the fire next to his parents, and the careful swirls of paint all over his body can’t hide the proud glow on his face. Under the smooth veneer of Neteyam’s smiles and cheer was the jagged edge of his inferiority complex, his need to always be better and to be liked. Funnily enough, his insecurity has always been your favourite part of him. It felt real in a way his cockiness didn’t.
You can’t stop yourself from glancing over. Night has already fallen and there are many couples dancing, the flickering firelight sending wild shadows across the gathering. But even in the unsteady light, you catch the intense golden stare of Neteyam watching you from across the circle.
You hastily turn your face away, pressing your lips together tight as you try to pretend like you hadn’t been looking in the first place.
“–He’s better than Art’alak, at least.” Spider says, continuing on the conversation that you had checked out of for a few moments. “That guy was awful. I mean, what did you even see in him?”
You roll your eyes, sinking further back into the stupidly heavy weight of Spider and Lo’ak in a silly attempt to hide yourself from view. It almost definitely doesn’t work, and you can still feel the weight of Neteyam’s stare on you, even as you fixedly ignore him.
“Pretty sure we don’t want the answer to that one, man.” Lo’ak says, snickering.
His eyes glance around, before flashing across the gathering as though he can also feel Neteyam’s attention. You frown as Lo’ak hastily removes his arm from around your shoulders, even leaning away from you a little.
“I’m allowed to want company.” You say loftily, though you’re certain that your voice is a little shaky.
It feels like your skin is heating up under Neteyam’s eyes, and you feel yourself getting shifty. Why won’t he just look away?
Lo’ak obviously notices his brother’s attention, because he leans a little closer so he can speak quietly in your ear.
“My brother can be unbearable,” Lo’ak murmurs, “But he’s not a bad guy.”
“Gross.” You wrinkle your nose playfully at Lo’ak’s rare display of sincerity about his brother and he hisses at you, swiping at your head.
It’s all in jest, which is obvious given how gentle his hands are with you, and you laugh and lean away.
“I just– I don’t understand him.” You sigh once your laughter has tapered off. “I mean, I get that he doesn’t approve of the whole interspecies thing, but it’s like he goes out of his way to catch me in embarrassing situations. If he finds it gross, why seek it out?”
Lo’ak purses his lips and avoids your eyes. “Uh…”
“Anytime he shows up, the guys I’m with go running.” You continue, your brows knitting into a frown. “I mean, it’s getting ridiculous. Why can’t he just mind his own business?”
Lo’ak’s eyes dart over your head, and you just know that he and Spider are sharing a look together.
“He doesn’t– I wouldn’t say he disapproves of interspecies relationships–” Lo’ak says, but he fumbles a little in his attempt to get his words out and darts another panicked glance across the fire towards where Neteyam is sitting with their father.
You just scoff, crossing your arms defensively across your chest. You feel a little vulnerable talking about this; usually, you’re content to suffer through the embarrassment of having your sex partners pretending they don’t know you in public alone, but since Neteyam had started walking in on you, now he knows that they’re doing it too.
“He scolds them like they’re children whenever he walks in on us, talking about how they’re neglecting their duties and all that,” You mutter, scowling. “But it’s obviously because he’s annoyed that his friends are messing around with a Sky Person.”
Spider shifts at your side, making an odd sound beneath his breath. You turn to look at him, but he’s staring rather fixedly at a tree branch overhead. Lo’ak clears his throat, similarly looking off to the side to avoid your eyes.
You frown. It feels as though they’re hiding something from you, and the thought is unsettling.
“What?” You demand, sitting forward and staring intently at them.
“Nothing,” Lo’ak protests, but his voice is a little too high-pitched to be believable. “Uh… It’s just… well, I really don’t think that Neteyam has a problem with interspecies relationships. Our dad came from the Sky, too!”
You think that Lo’ak probably intended for that to be reassuring, but instead you find your stomach sinking miserably.
“Oh.” You say, pursing your lips. “So it’s me that he has a problem with.”
“No!” Lo’ak protests, but then he pauses. His mouth opens and closes as he struggles to form a response under the weight of your narrowed eyes.
When no explanation comes, you end up just averting your gaze and looking towards the fire. It’s stupid, but you’re not sure what you were even expecting. Neteyam has always been perfect in his personal life, his duties, his relationships within the clan, his looks. It’s hardly a surprise that he’s developed a distaste for you – you know what Sky People represent to the Na’vi, after all.
Across the gathering, two Na’vi girls are shooting looks at Spider. You almost think they’re looking at him in disgust, but when Spider catches their eye and smiles back they both look away giggling.
You click your tongue and roll your eyes. You wonder when exactly it was that the Na’vi your age stopped seeing you as human nuisances that haunt the village, and started instead seeing you as people with possible sexual appeal.
“That is just unfair.” You intone dully. “You get Na’vi girls flirting with you from across the campfire, and I get Na’vi boys fucking me in corners and then pretending they don’t know me. And that’s only if I don’t get rudely interrupted by Lo’ak’s asshole brother.”
“Men.” Lo’ak says in a disparaging tone that sounds as though it’s meant to be sympathetic, but it falls short as he’s biting his tongue to keep from laughing. “Maybe you just have bad taste.”
Spider laughs too, though he’s still looking in the Na’vi girls’ direction. There’s a pink flush in his cheeks, and his smile looks distinctly pleased.
“Yeah,” You grumble, sinking down where you’re sitting. “I’m hearing that a lot.”
The conversation moves on then, Lo’ak nudging at Spider over your head and grinning as he recounts the highlights from the hunt earlier that day, but you’re distracted. You hardly even hear a word they say, too busy staring broodingly into the fire.
Luckily, neither Lo’ak nor Spider mind your silence. They’re perfectly content to fill the quiet themselves, chatting and babbling and joking over your head.
You’re drifting, lost in your own thoughts until you hear Lo’ak and Spider go quiet. You glance over to them, only to realise why they’ve stopped talking – Neteyam is walking your way.
You stiffen, eyes narrowing behind your respirator mask as he comes to a stop before you all. He greets his brother and Spider briefly, distractedly, before his big amber eyes settle on you.
All you can do is wait, tensed. You have no idea what he’s going to do or say, but if he says something about that day in the healing hut you might actually scream.
But Neteyam doesn’t immediately say anything. He crouches in front of you, his gaze as measured and even as ever, and proffers a wrapped utumauti leaf to you. For a moment, you just stare at it as though it’s something venomous.
“A portion of yerik meat,” Neteyam clarifies, not even blinking as he watches your face. “From the hunt earlier.”
Oh. Now you see. He’s just showing off, like he always does. He’s always doing things like this, just to show off his skills, his prowess, how strong he is. It’s irritating; everyone already knows how great he is, and he’s already practically revered throughout the village. You don’t know why he keeps trying to flaunt his greatness in front of you, other than the fact that he must love to annoy you.
Spider nudges you in the side, and you reach out to take the wrapped meat from Neteyam’s outstretched hand.
“Thank you.” You say, a little tersely.
Neteyam just nods, his tail coiling. He watches your face for another moment, and all the unspoken tension between you from the other day seems to swell to unbearable heights. His ears twitch, and then he glances over his shoulder to where his parents are sitting by the fire. They’re watching, which makes you feel itchy and embarrassed.
“I should return.” He says simply, before standing and nodding at you, then Spider and Lo’ak, before straightening up and walking back to his place by Jake, his tail swaying low.
There’s a long moment of silence, where you can feel Lo’ak and Spider staring at you.
“Don’t.” You say sharply when you see Lo’ak’s mouth open, and he closes it with a click.
This feels embarrassing, as though Neteyam is mocking you somehow. It’s not the first time he’s given you food, always making sure to let you know he caught it himself. It’s like he has a damn pathological need to show off his skills, to try and prove himself, to prove that he’s better than anyone else. It’s aggravating, even more so now that Lo’ak has made it clear that it’s you that Neteyam has a problem with.
Eventually, Spider and Lo’ak return to their conversation and you pull back, sitting silently between them. You pull your mask off for a brief moment to nibble at the meat. You’re a little irritated to admit that it’s delicious, and you sit back to lean into Spider’s side as you chew at it sullenly.
You’ve just begun to wonder if this night is a total bust altogether when you catch movement out of the corner of your eye. You raise your head, surprised to see the sight of Txetyo stepping towards you.
At your side, Spider and Lo’ak share a look before sitting up straighter.
“Tawtute,” Txetyo greets, nodding his head at you. He casts a single cautious look towards Lo’ak, before focusing on you properly.
He is keeping his voice purposely low so that no one else can hear, but you can’t bring yourself to care. This is the most public setting that any man has ever actually approached you in, and you can feel your expression brightening already.
“Hello.” You murmur, smiling sweetly at him. The last time you had seen him had been right after you had fled the tsahik’s hut, right after you had touched Neteyam– and no, you are not thinking about that right now.
“I would like to speak with you.” Txetyo murmurs, his voice low as he darts one more quick look between Lo’ak and Spider before settling on you again.
You brighten. You’re under no illusions about what Txetyo wants to ‘speak’ about, and you can safely assume that there will be little to no talking involved at all.
Yes. A distraction. This is exactly what you need.
“Sure.” You say, your lips curving up in a coy smile as you unfold yourself from where you’ve been sitting between Spider and Lo’ak.
“Uh–” Lo’ak starts to say, but you’re already beginning to step away with Txetyo, who’s beginning to lead you away from the gathering.
Maybe it’s a little impulsive, but you’re feeling reckless tonight. You can still feel Neteyam’s eyes boring into your back as you follow Txetyo towards the treeline, but you determinedly refuse to look. The celebration should be enough of a distraction to keep him busy and away from you for a while so you can finally get laid.
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ
You resist the urge to check the time on your battered old wristwatch as Txetyo slides down your body and repositions himself between your legs.
It feels like such a long time since you’ve hooked up successfully with anyone, with no interruptions, which is probably why you’ve been so affected by all-things-Neteyam recently. You were hoping that this encounter with Txetyo would restore you back to normal, to get rid of all the thoughts of Neteyam’s intense golden stare and pretty face and silken hot cock that are absolutely haunting you.
Yet, so far, the night’s been less than stellar. Txetyo had led you away from the celebrations, and you had to try hard to pretend like you don’t see him looking around compulsively to make sure that no one else has seen him leave with you. You had followed him into the trees, and had brightened up when he took your hand as soon as you were out of sight of the gathering.
Before you knew it, you were on your back on the forest floor with your panties around your ankles and your dress rucked up around your waist as Txetyo loomed over you on his hands and knees.
Txetyo is handsome, and he’s big and strong and he’s not opposed to hooking up with a Sky Person, but he’s not much for conversation and it seems like he’s only really got one thing on his mind. Apparently, your list of criteria might be a little lacking, because Txetyo’s also proving to be woefully bad at sex.
He spreads your legs and buries his face there. You blink at the canopy of glowing foliage overhead, grimacing. Honestly, you’d think that anything tongue-adjacent would feel good against a clit, but that’s just not true. Txetyo seems to have an affinity for moving his tongue rapidly and aimlessly against you, resulting in nothing better than the occasional teasing — definitely by accident.
You shift a little, try to angle your hips so that Txetyo’s mouth is over your clit, but he doesn’t seem to pick up on what you’re attempting to do at all. He just moves his mouth away, jabbing his tongue sort of aimlessly at your left labia.
“Could you– a bit higher–” You say, trying to shift again.
Txetyo’s mouth is rather sloppy against your pussy, but you’re not actually sure what he’s doing down there. He seems to be missing every possible nerve ending that might feel good, which is actually a little bit impressive.
You sigh, and just resign yourself to getting bad head. You let your head thunk back against the mossy forest floor, your legs hanging off of Txetyo’s big shoulders as he hunches between your thighs.
It’s almost imperceptible, but the quiet ‘crack’ of a twig breaking underfoot has your head snapping around in a panic.
Though night has fallen, it’s never truly dark on Pandora. The moss beneath you glows faintly, illuminating the outline of your body as you lay there with Txetyo getting busy between your legs. The trees and foliage around you are similarly phosphorescent, your surroundings all lit up in luminous vibrance.
Pandora’s bioluminescence is beautiful; it also means that you can see Neteyam’s figure all dimly lit up as he leans against the trunk of a tree about fifteen feet away.
Neteyam’s head is cocked to the side as he very obviously takes in the scene before him, his head turning to scan up and down your body. His little luminous freckles are lit up and glowing, and it’s impossible to miss the fact that his golden eyes are fixed on you, so intense that it’s almost breathtaking.
You almost scream. You mean to, but instead you moan, completely by accident, and Txetyo groans between your legs.
You don’t know what to do. You’re gaping at Neteyam, who seems all too content to just watch you, meanwhile Txetyo is totally oblivious. He’s still doing nothing right, but something deep inside you pulses.
Moments later, much to your horror, Neteyam takes a small, tentative step forward. He stands only a few feet away, behind Txetyo and in plain view of you.
Go away! You mouth, staring at him in disbelief.
Neteyam scratches his head, feigning confusion, and then he takes another step forward.
He doesn’t say anything. Why isn’t he saying anything? It’s not the first time he’s walked in on you in a situation like this, but usually by this point he’s started making snarky comments, which in turn makes the men you’re with scramble away from you like you’re diseased.
Your dress is pushed up clumsily around your stomach, exposing your pussy. There’s a man between your legs. You’re in the process of getting fucked and Neteyam is watching, goddammit.
It definitely, absolutely is not hot. And yet… your hips twitch, and your breath hitches.
“That feel good?” Txetyo asks, peering up to grin at you. Your attention is dragged back to him and you blink, dazed.
“Yeah,” You lie. “So good.”
“Mm,” Txetyo hums in satisfaction, slipping two fingers into you. “Good.”
You grunt at the stretch of his thick fingers, breathing deep. His mouth returns, his fingers jabbing kind of aimlessly, but it hardly matters. Your attention is locked on Neteyam, and it’s somehow making Txetyo’s useless attempts feel somewhat invigorating.
“Oh god,” You gasp. You’re so confused. Part of you is still waiting for Neteyam to speak up, to make a sound or to clear his throat. Something. But he just watches on, his pretty eyes dark.
“Mm, so pretty,” Txetyo murmurs from between your legs, still blissfully unaware of your onlooker. “Can I fuck you now, tawtute?”
Despite yourself, you find your eyes darting over to Neteyam. The stupid fucker is still looking, and when he sees that you’ve looked at him his lips quirk. Your whole body flushes deep with heat, and you try to pretend like you aren’t taking direction from him; usually, his appearance would have stopped this entire encounter dead in its tracks. But you’re continuing, and the fact is, you feel as though you need his permission or something.
“Y-yes.” You say.
Neteyam purses his lips, and raises his non-existent brows. Fuck, what does that mean?
“How would you like me to–”
“Just like this.” You blurt. It feels, for some reason, as though you can’t risk Txetyo noticing Neteyam. This is the only way you can see Neteyam without Txetyo noticing him, anyway.
Txetyo shuffles up your body, his bulk dwarfing you. There’s a moment’s struggle as he’s lining himself up against your pussy, groaning low as he pushes into you. The stretch is intense, and a little painful, as always; you never quite get used to the bone-deep satisfaction of that achey biting stretch in your cunt.
The stretch is satisfying, like it always is, but it’s not necessarily special. Txetyo is not as evenly proportioned as he looks, and his cock is smaller than other Na’vi you’ve been with. That is, mostly, a good thing; it means he can fuck you without lube, which you usually have to use to accommodate the shocking stretch of taking a Na’vi cock. It also means that you adjust to having him inside you a little quicker, your muscles easing gradually around the intrusion of his dick.
What is special (or at least unusual) is the fact that Neteyam is still watching. You stare back, maintaining a bewilderingly intense sort of eye contact. Txetyo groans as your cunt clenches down on him, and he lowers his face to bury it in your shoulder; like this, your view of Neteyam is completely unimpeded.
“Ah! You’re so tight,” Txetyo hisses. “This is okay?”
“Yes,” You gasp. “You can move.”
And by God, does Txetyo move. He jerks in and out of you with a complete lack of coordination. You bounce and flop against the luminescent bed of moss beneath you, occasionally throwing a hand over your head to try and anchor yourself to a tree root behind you, just to stay put for a second or two.
Neteyam is undoubtedly amused. He has a hand pressed to his mouth, and the skin around his eyes is scrunched up with mirth. At one point, when Txetyo starts humping into you so desperately that you grunt, wincing, Neteyam doubles over himself completely, laughing silently.
“Oh, oh,” Txetyo groans. “Tawtute, I am going to– you are so tight, so hot inside–"
You smack one of Txetyo’s hands away from where he’d been rubbing determinedly at the side of your vulva. You rub at your clit instead in fast, harsh circles, staring at Neteyam desperately. You don’t actually know what you’re looking for, or what you want him to do… but you want him to do something.
Neteyam reaches down to palm the bulge at the front of his tewng that you hadn’t even noticed until now, and you moan. You rub yourself even faster, attempting to angle your hips in any way that could increase your pleasure from Txetyo. It seems impossible, but you manage to catch one or two good strokes.
“Please, please—!” You gasp, eyes wide as you maintain eye contact with Neteyam over the wide bulk of Txetyo’s shoulders.
Neyeyam moans. It’s low, barely noticeable under Txetyo’s own strangled sounds, but you hear it clearly. Your body seizes up and then you’re coming, gasping high and quick as you drink Neteyam in with your eyes, frozen under Neteyam’s gaze in turn.
“Unnng,” Txetyo grunts as he comes too, thrusting into you through the last shocks of his orgasm.
You barely even blink, your eyes fixed wide open as you tremble, your breaths shaky. Neteyam doesn’t break eye contact either, watching you so damn closely that it feels bizarrely as though he’s watching a show you’re putting on, as though all of this is for him. The worst part is you feel as though you’d be lying if you said it wasn’t.
Neteyam silently turns and slips away through the foliage, and Txetyo flops onto the mossy ground beside you moments later, breathing heavily.
“That was good.” Txetyo sighs, his voice thick with satisfaction.
You don’t reply, still staring at the place Neteyam had disappeared into the trees. You’re partly unable to believe what just happened and partly turned on beyond belief, just knowing it did.
What the fuck?
#on holidays atm and I’ve been stressing about how to post this 😭 I’ll have part 2 posted in a day or two!#neteyam#neteyam x human#neteyam x reader#avatar x reader#na'vi x human#na’vi x reader#awow#avatar way of water#neteyam fic#fics
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