🔹Hey, it's me. A 31 years old lady, mother of the cat's, the first of her name who loves to drink tea(and coffee, no life wothout coffee) and of course... enjoying the amazing "Quaritch- and Avatar-fandom. I have also a small TikTok Account (more Quaritchtok at moment)" tea.drinking.catmom" where I am posting different staff. So, keep calm and drink tea 🔹🔹🔹🔷🔹🔹🔹 🔹And YES I'am the🔹 *jumping in circles raising hands for taglist* lady to EVERY amazing posting I found
Out of all the recoms, who do you think would be best/most likely to talk you through an orgasm?
Masterlist
WARNINGS: NSFW, 18+ content, SMUT (not proofread)
It would definitely be one who cares about you. Being talked through that by someone also shows the 'power' they have which is why:
Colonel Miles Quaritch
...is number one. He's an old man so he isn't there for quickies. He likes to take his time and he's a mean tease. Something that really gets him going is when you are submissive and visibly smaller than him. He loves the power and size difference and definitely uses it to his advantage to tease, embarrass, and overwhelm you. The teasing continues all the way until the very end. Meaning he'll be mean through your orgasm but nice enough to let you cum.
He'd say things like:
"Aww look at you baby, fucked dumb by my cock."
"Stupid slut, you want more don't ya?"
"You're Daddy's whore ain't ya? Lettin' me use you all the time."
"You're takin' me so well."
Quaritch does care about you, he just doesn't verbally say so. Praise is rare from him but that's why when you get it, it's good. During your orgasm, he'll continue to pleasure you but he'll make fun of you for being so desperate for him. Secretly, he loves when you beg and especially loves when you're so fucked out you can't think or answer him except moan and cry. Crying turns him on big time.
Z-Dog / Zdinarsk
Is second because even though I don't write for her, I know she prioritises your pleasure over hers. Sometimes when you two have sex, she won't even touch herself or let you touch her because she just gets so much pleasure out of overstimulating you and making you cum as many times as she can. If her mouth is free while you cum, she will guide you through it and tell you how well you're doing. Sometimes she will tease the shit out of you until your face is flushed and all you can do is beg and plead.
"That's it baby, let go."
"Come on, make Mommy proud."
"Look at you, so pretty for me when you cum."
Lopez
...would probably be third because I just know that he knows exactly what he's doing. His experience isn't abnormal but he just got the hang of it quickly. He's a switch, meaning he'll enjoy taking pleasure as much as giving it to you and he won't mind being dom or sub. It all depends on the occasion. He as well isn't a fan of quickies unless there is no other option. Lopez loves to take his time and edge you until your body is weak and begging for a release. Seeing you follow his movements with your hips like it's everything and all you will ever need gets him so uncontrollably hard, he can straight away go another round after you've both cum. When you orgasm, he takes pride in it and needs to hear you confirm how good it is and that it's him making your legs shake.
"Such a beautiful mess you're making, baby."
"Is it that good?" he would coo in your ear with a grin.
"Come on Mami, tell me. Who's making you feel like this?"
Lyle Wainfleet
I'm not sure exactly where to position Lyle, because it definitely depends on who you are to him and what occasion it is. He loves quickies and had a few fuck buddies during his time in the RDA, so if that is what you are to him, he won't be as verbal. He'd occasionally praise you and say how good it feels, but that would be it. If he would talk you through your orgasm as a friend with benefits, then he would just tease you about it. However, if you're dating, Lyle would absolutely prioritise you. If he loves you, he will make you his world and his everything. So when you cum it means a lot to him and you'll be flooded with compliments, love and praise.
"God, you look so pretty like this"
"Fuck- that's it. Look at you. So fuckin' perfect."
"Let go baby, I'll give it to you. Don't worry."
Mansk
We all know by now that Mansk is more conservative. He's not as outrageously social as Lyle is which means he gets laid less because he doesn't initiate conversations or talk to people he doesn't know. (Unlike Lyle, who I know was a total slut as a human). If Mansk finds someone, or more like if someone finds Mansk and it leads to sex (without romance) he's quiet. Literally, no words are being spoken he just focuses on his pleasure and then helps the other person get off. He would never hook up with anyone random he doesn't know too well though. If you're in a relationship, everything is different. He trusts you and is able to let his guard down around you. Which is also when he is more vocal. He prefers to listen to you but from time to time he enjoys just letting it all out and talking away with you for hours. During sex, Mansk is a changed man. He's just so in love with you he will randomly blurt out the compliments that cross his mind. You can be riding him, going down on him or he can be pleasuring you and the man will just stop for a few seconds. When you wonder why he stopped moving you look up at him to see his lovestruck eyes admiring you. He'll be mumbling things like: "I love you so much..." ; "You're so pretty." ; "You look like an angel...".
When you're having an orgasm, he takes so much pleasure in seeing your body react to him and he watches how your face contorts. Once, he was watching you pleasure yourself and when you visibly came, he creamed his pants without even touching himself.
"Let go baby, please. Let me see you."
"Don't hide, I want to see how good you feel."
"That's it, take it all."
"You're so good for me, 'm so lucky to have you."
(Author's note: I'll be gone for a week because I'm on holiday with friends. Probably won't manage to post until next week, sorry.)
Tag list: @numarusworld @jatwow @number1gal @ikranwings @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed
WARNINGS: 18+ NSFW! Fluff, Smut, Angst, Blood, Injuries, mention of torture, mention of kidnapping, size difference kink, bulge kink, oral sex f. receiving, vaginal penetration, rude language
(The good stuff ;) )
11,677 words (holy shit I know)
FANFICTION WITH MOVIE PICTURES!!!
SUMMARY: Y/N and Lo'ak are in the forest but get caught by Quaritch's army squad. Lo'ak gets away, Y/N is captured. Gets to know Miles over the next few days. One night she can't sleep = smut :)
I feel like one would usually say, that they can’t remember what happened to them, if they were in the situation I am currently in. Because of the state of shock, people often forget and their memory of that time becomes blurry. The shock, fear, and adrenaline take over your body. One doesn’t think when they are in danger, the body acts instinctively. Thus causing blurry memory.
But not me. I was scared, terrified even. But I remember everything.
Lo’ak and I were in the forest, hunting he said. I just assumed he was telling the truth and wanted to work on my skills, since this way of life, even after a few years, is still new to me. Being a human amongst Na’vi was difficult in the beginning. Learning what they do and how they do it was a pain in the ass, but I mostly managed. I was also accepted easier, given the fact that Jake used to be a person.
Neytiri once made me a drink. Jake told me it was their coffee, to calm me down because it looked awful. It was in fact not coffee. It was some potion or whatever, some plant nectar, they later said. I choked for a full 3 minutes, gasping for air before my mask was taken off and I was exposed to the air of Pandora. I held my breath instinctively, but soon discovered, I could breathe now. I was able to breathe the same air the rest of the planet was. How? I have no idea.
Anyway, soon I found out Lo’ak was lying when we reached an area close to the end of the forest. There was a shack of some sort, looking like a lab almost. It seemed very familiar but we knew it couldn’t be abandoned or be standing there for long because it wasn’t overgrown with plants yet. It seemed fully functioning. This meant someone was using it. Someone else was sharing the forest with us. A person or creature, maybe multiple, that we didn’t know of.
“You said we were going hunting!” I whisper yell at Lo’ak who is crouching behind a log in front of me, holding his arm out to make sure I don’t go further.
He turns around and rolls his eyes before looking back.
“We need to find out who’s in there. What if they’re sky people?” he says.
“Well since we have no idea what is in there, I suggest we go back. We tell Jake and Neytir-” I start to talk but he cuts me off.
“They cannot know that we are here.” he hisses, turning back to me again. I’m officially angry at him for doing this.
“This is dangerous, Lo’ak! We should at least have taken Neteyam with us.”
Lo’ak ignores me and waves a hand in annoyance.
Before I could argue any further with him, I heard a rustling of leaves behind us. I immediately turned around, my ears trying to hear out any tiny noise to help me see what it was. Lo’ak whipped his head around too, his ears spiked and twitching, both of us not daring to move or speak. The silence was no longer the comfortable one you usually experienced in the forest, but a dreadful one. I heard my heart beating in my ears and Lo’ak’s shaky inhale.
I stood up, trying to look over the massive amounts of leaves. Lo’ak grabbed my wrist about to pull me back down. He made me jump and I spun around, starting to curse at him when the leaves rustled again. Much louder, closer and faster this time and before I knew it there was a large hand over my mouth and around my waist, pulling me into the air and up against someone’s body. Lo’ak ran towards me to help me get free but before he could even take a step, another creature grabbed his hair strand, yanking him back and into their embrace.
Both of us were struggling but I didn’t fight whatever was holding me because I knew I was way smaller.
I saw another Na’vi hold Lo’ak and assumed that’s what was holding me too. But they had human clothes and were armed with guns. I saw the army cargo pants and the dog tags and immediately my heart sank. They were not Na’vi, they were people’s Avatars. And not our people’s Avatars, but the sky people’s.
Lo’ak was trying to push the Avatar away and was struggling against their grip. A few more emerged from the high grass, aiming their weapons at us. Both our bows were ripped from our hands and I cried out when the one holding me moved his hand from my face to my hair, tugging it back aggressively.
Lo’ak heard it and started to struggle more, to try and get out of the grip and help me.
One of them started yelling commands at us, telling us to shut up and stop resisting. Personally, I wouldn’t let that slide. But I literally couldn’t do anything except glare at them. Another Avatar pressed his throat and murmured something.
My eyes darted around, looking for any possible helpful tool or distraction. I noticed gas bombs on their vests and clicked my tongue to get Lo’ak’s attention. His eyes met mine and I motioned him to look at the vest. He noticed the gas things as well and just nodded. I assumed he had some kind of plan and nodded back before the grip around my body was tightened.
Then another figure walked out from the tall grass. His hair was almost completely shaved. He wore the same cargo pants, brown belt, dark green tank top, an armed vest and held a large gun.
The others moved out of his way which made me realise he was probably in charge.
“We found them spying on our base, sir.” One said, motioning to Lo’ak and me.
He turned to Lo’ak first. “Hm. A kid.” he scoffed. “What are you doing out here, huh?” he asked, walking closer to Lo’ak. Lo’ak hissed at him and I smirked. The Avatar glared down at him until another spoke up.
“Look at their hands, sir.” A female one suddenly spoke up, motioning to Lo’aks hand which was attempting to scratch the person behind him.
“A halfbreed.” she added.
“Show me your hands kid.” he said to Lo’ak again. Lo’ak slowly raised them and showed him the middle finger which made me grin.
“Halfbreed and rude. You must be Sully’s kid.” Colonel smirked.
The person holding me started patting my body down with one hand while still holding me, probably to see if I had any tools or weapons on me.
I wore regular clothes, a tank top and shorts because I refused to wear what Na’vi wore. Only on special occasions like ceremonies would I wear what Neytiri gave me. Otherwise, I felt too naked.
I kicked into his hand once it reached down my bare leg which was completely unnecessary and bit into his palm which was probably 3 times as big as mine. He screamed out in pain and let me go for a split second. I dropped to the ground, reaching for my knife and managed to give his leg a deep cut before I was held forcefully by another Avatar. They brought me to my legs again, both arms around my torso and waist to keep me in place.
When I looked up again I saw the person they addressed as the Colonel now looking at me. He had his eyebrow raised and seemed to not care about me hurting one of his men. Lo’ak was now the one grinning at me.
The Colonel slowly turned his body and faced me.
“Well well well, what do we have here?” he said, smirking and taking a few steps towards me.
“What’s your name, sweetheart?”
I rolled my eyes and looked away.
That must have irritated him because he grabbed my face in his palm and forced me to look at him. He was about to repeat his question when his eyes widened and his ears rotated from being strained back to perking up in interest. He was deeply examining my face.
“How are you breathing?”
I smirked at him now. When I wasn’t answering he forced his ears back again, his look of wonder gone and his angry face back. “Answer me, now.”
A gun was now held straight to my head. I had no choice.
“That doesn’t concern you.” I snarl at him. He is completely unfazed by that and just glances at the Avatar holding me before looking back down at me. The gun is immediately cocked and I gulp. He doesn’t even have to repeat himself again.
“I drank something.” I say. He raises his eyebrows.
“What did you drink?” he growls.
“I don’t know, they didn’t tell me what it exactly was.”
“Who’s they?”
“The Na’vi.”
He seemed surprised.
I just look at Lo’ak who shakes his head at me, not wanting me to answer more.
I was about to because I did have a gun to the head until Lo’ak suddenly screamed and managed to pull out the gas thing in the vest of the person holding him. He opened it and bolted. This distraction shocked the Avatar holding me as well and I managed to slip out of his arms and started sprinting in the direction Lo’ak ran. He was much faster than me and was far ahead, I couldn’t see him. But what fueled me to keep running as fast as I could, were the heavy footsteps behind me. I looked over my shoulder and saw the Colonel running after me. I noticed he was catching up because he was twice my height. I ran, jumping over another log and hiding behind a tree. He wasn’t backed up by his team. And Lo’ak was gone already. A branch on the log was sticking out and it was sharp. I accidentally scratched my leg on it when I jumped.
I looked over my shoulder and carefully leaned against the tree, trying to steady my breath so that he wouldn’t hear me. The Colonel saw that I had stopped and hidden somewhere but he didn’t know which tree. He was looking around, his ears strained back again and his tail flicking. He held his gun ready and slowly walked through the grass. I knew he could pick up even the slightest noise so I tried my best to stay quiet. He was getting closer to my hiding spot so I quietly moved to the next tree, trying to keep out of his eye angle. I bit my lip to not whine out because my leg started to hurt bad and I felt blood trickle down my calf. I glanced down and saw that the cut was deeper than I thought. Shit.
I reached the other tree and I turned and looked behind me again. My heart dropped when I couldn’t see him anymore. I held a hand over my mouth to mute my heavy breathing. I leaned out a little further, straining my neck and looking around for him, but he was gone.
Before I could even think another thought I felt warm breath fanning against my neck and shoulder.
“Gotcha.” he whispered right into my ear and I screamed.
I attempted to run away again but one of his large arms reached out and held my waist with ease, pulling my body against his leg. I wanted to scream and cry but I couldn’t even do that, because he held a cloth to my mouth and within seconds I felt lightheaded and dizzy.
“Take that you little bitch.” he snarled in my ear.
My body started going limp and I fell to the ground, groaning. I looked up and saw the Colonel towering over me and grinning. His hands were on his hips and his fangs were showing.
“Don’t you worry honey, you’re in good hands.” he said before leaning down and surprisingly, carefully placing me over his shoulder. I felt his finger glide down my calf and wipe some blood away. He held my legs while my upper body swayed with every significant step he took. Before drifting off I remember noticing that he only needed to use one hand to hold both my legs.
Now, I opened my eyes and found myself in a brightly lit white room. My eyes hurt from how bright the light is.
There was a metal table in the middle where I was laying. The rest of the room was empty. My head was spinning and I looked down at myself to see I had everything on and that my leg was still injured. The blood had dried now but there was dirt in it. Most of my body was dirty and scratched.
After sitting still and in silence for a while, remembering what happened, a part of the wall which turned out to be a door opened, and I saw someone start to step in. I immediately jumped off the table I was on, biting down on my leg when I felt the awful discomfort in my leg and stood behind it to distance myself from the stranger. The avatar leaned down to fit through the door and walked in. He stood at the entrance, his tail slowly swaying from side to side.
I looked up at him and found him already staring at me. My expression turned into a glare and my muscles stiffened when he started taking steps forward. I walked back a step or two, making him realise it would be difficult to get to me. Why he wanted to even do that was a mystery to me.
“Well, I see you’re awake and healthy. I came here to talk to you.” He tells me, stopping his steps and shifting his weight onto one of his legs.
“I don’t want to talk to you.” I snarl back at him, which makes his expression turn slightly angry again. I notice how his ears slightly lean back at my comment.
He scoffs and says “Well, you don’t really have a choice here, sugar.”
He gave me another nickname. It annoyed me. But there was something horrible inside me, which made me realise that some sick and screwed-up part of me liked this. Liked the situation, liked the nicknames, liked the size difference and liked him. I internally cursed myself, disgusted with these thoughts. I had an inner war going on inside me right now. Trying to decide whether I should attempt to hurt him as much as possible or whether I should listen to what he is saying.
His presence was very intimidating and I felt tiny under his gaze. I hated it, but then again apparently I didn’t. What the fuck, Y/N?
My face must have scrunched up in disgust while I was speeding through my thoughts.
“What’s wrong? Don’t like the pet name?” He cooed, his face showing me a completely sarcastic sad expression.
Not even a nickname. A pet name. My stomach stirred weirdly.
I continued to glare at him, my jaw clenched together. My reaction made him smirk and he tilted his head, just watching me and all my movements.
“Too bad I don’t care, sugar. Anyway-” He said, deliberately repeating the name and taking a step forward. Out of instinct, I took a step back and he immediately stopped again. His eyes moved down to my legs and he seemed only ever so slightly taken aback by my movements. Once his expression turned into a malevolent grin, I knew I made a mistake. He took that simple movement as a challenge.
Something in his eyes changed and he looked slightly amused, staring me down intensely for a couple more seconds before starting to walk at me again. I walked backwards and quickly moved around the table, trying to distance myself from him.
“Come here you little vixen.” He moved faster, following me and being at an obvious advantage. For every step he took, I took 3.
He was almost directly behind me and swung an arm forward to catch me but I dived under the table, scrambling myself off my knees and back to my feet.
Before I could take another step, both his hands were on my waist and I was lifted into the air.
He placed me on top of the table so that my legs were dangling off and I was leaning on my elbows. He let me go with one hand and rested the other on my stomach, keeping me pressed down on the table.
I just stared at him, trying to get my breathing back under control and then my gaze shifted down to where he was still holding me.
(pretend you are Spider)
My eyes widened and gasped softly when I saw how his huge blue hand was wrapped about halfway around my entire fucking waist.
His eyes followed mine down to my middle. I glanced at him to see his reaction and noticed how his eyes grew wider. He seemed almost hypnotised by the size difference.
Sure he knew he was twice as tall as an average human. He worked with people on a daily basis. But he had never touched anyone like this or noticed how big only his hands were to the rest of the human body.
He soon snapped out of it and his eyes found mine. I gulped nervously, his eyes staring deep into mine.
Slowly, he stopped applying pressure onto my waist and gently removed his hands. I didn’t expect him to be gentle at all. He seemed like the type to push me around, throw me down and have a harsh grip. I’ve seen him be like that to others. But he seemed almost to soften now. Just for a split second, his eyes softened. Then he took a careful step back and his expression turned to his normal one again. Just a relaxed face, with no hint of kindness anymore.
The Colonel cleared his throat. “Let’s start over. What’s your name?” he asks, now standing upright and looking down at me. I hesitate to answer.
“Okay, how about I start? My name is Miles. Miles Quaritch.” he tells me.
I slowly sit upright and watch as he moves down and squats in front of me. We were close to being the same height now.
“Now you.” he gestures for me to talk. “Then perhaps, I won’t have to call you ‘sugar’ anymore.” A smirk forms on his face again.
“Y/N…” I reply softly, not sure whether I should have said that. Would they be able to find out information about my friends and hurt them if I just told them my name? I hoped to Eywa that that wouldn’t be true.
He was pleased that I answered him. “Good, good.”
“Listen, Y/N, I need you to cooperate with me. The more you put up fights the more I will have to handle them. And trust me, I won’t be as nice as I am now.” he tells me and I feel worried again.
“I’ll be nice once. Then I won’t.” he says, grinning.
I slowly nod my head to show him I understand.
He reaches into one of his pockets and pulls out a towel which seemed to be soaked into something. Then his arm reached out for my leg and I instinctively pulled away.
He looked up at me and I remembered his previously spoken words. He reached out again, but I still didn’t feel comfortable letting him touch me. He sighed, resting his arms on his knees. I saw how he clenched his fists around the cloth and bit down against his jaw, probably resisting the urge to hold me down and just grab my leg.
“I need you alive for my mission. That may not happen if you don’t let me treat your cut.” he tells me, looking up again. “Now, do you trust me?”
My eyebrows furrow at his stupid question. I see him realise what he said was not helpful.
“No?” I reply.
He looks away, biting his bottom lip and nodding his head understandably. His tail shows his irritation and flicks around behind him.
“Listen, sugar,” he says, purposefully using the pet name again “ it’s either this or death.”
I breathe in deeply, running his words through my head over and over again. He extends an open palm out halfway, waiting for me to place my leg on it.
I grip the table and sigh, slowly lifting my injured leg towards him. He grabs it, still annoyed it took so long and then starts to rub the dry blood and dirt off the wound. The contact makes me flinch and I bite my lip, whining. The cloth must be soaked in alcohol.
His ears perk up and he notices my pained reaction but then focuses his stern face back on my leg and keeps rubbing at it.
After a few minutes of pure agony, he pulls away. He releases my leg and I see the red marks from where he was holding it in place, pulling it back to my own body.
He let out a huff, slowly standing up straight again and throwing the cloth to the ground. His ears are strained back again and his expression looks mean.
“Thank you…” I say. When he looks at me again, it all changes one more time. His ears perk towards me and his eyes blankly look at me. He wasn’t expecting that.
He just nods, before looking away and leaving me in the room alone again. I was left alone until the next day. That night I didn’t sleep, I just sat in the corner all cold, hugging my knees.
The morning comes and I sit there for a few hours, holding my knees. I notice that one of the walls doesn’t look like the other. It was like a mirror but I felt watched through it. It made me feel uneasy. Later, the door in the wall opened again and three people dressed in lab coats and one person with a gun walked in. They didn’t tell me where we were going, I was just grabbed by my arms and pushed outside, forced to follow them.
They sat me down in a busy room, full of other people. Most of them were watching the scene play out. I was sat on another metal surface but this time they handcuffed both my wrists to the frame on each side. Then tools were being brought and my arms were being touched up. Before I could process anything, I had a needle in my forearm and saw how it was extracting blood from my body. Then someone took a scalpel or a sharp tool or whatever and seemed to start mindlessly cutting into my other arm. I cried out trying to pull away from both sides but the result was just more people holding me down. I had tears welling in my eyes as I felt the pressure of blood being pulled from me and the feeling of it running down my other arm. I didn’t understand what was happening. Then my head was lifted up and I couldn’t move a limb without struggling. A screen above me displayed some quickly rotating lights making my mind all fuzzy. It was hypnotising almost.
Watching the whole procedure was Miles, standing behind protective glass with a few others who were trying to figure out what I drank that gave me the ability to breathe in the forest. While everyone was focused on work, Miles was angry.
The woman with her arm around my neck, forcing me to look up, started shouting out questions. Something about where the Na’vi were or whether I knew where Jake Sully was etc. Yes, I knew. But my mind was not in a good state at the moment and the machine they were using was making it worse for me. Her words went in one ear and out the other, so they couldn’t see my thoughts. I was so overwhelmed by the pain and lights that I started to just cry my eyes out. Tears were streaming down my face and I was choking on my saliva. I felt something warm flow out of my nose and figured this whole thing gave me a nosebleed.
Before any more torture could take place, I heard an oddly familiar voice yell something and the screen stilled. No more flashing lights. The movements on my arms stopped as well and I was released from the woman’s grip.
I started slowly falling to one side, unable to even sit straight but was caught in big arms which held me upright. I weakly glanced down noticing they were blue and striped.
“What are you doing, Quaritch?!” the woman yelled. He must have turned off the machine.
He didn’t answer her, just glared. His ears were strained all the way back and his nose was scrunched up, almost making him snarl. He looked down at me and I was on the verge of passing out, still losing blood. His anger seemed to grow as he pulled me up more so that my back was pressed against his midsection.
“How much blood did you take?” he asked, the words dripping off his tongue like venom.
“As much as we needed.” the woman answered, obviously irritated by what he was doing.
He looked away from her again, his focus back on me and I heard him growl to himself.
“Bandage her up.” he commanded the people surrounding me. No one moved, they all just looked at the other woman in charge.
“NOW!” he yelled, baring his fangs and flicking his tail. His angered scream woke me up a little more. People flinched and immediately started moving, looking for bandages.
Miles picked up my left arm and saw some kind of code or number carved into my skin, the blood still flowing out. His face scrunched up in pure anger and disgust. I didn’t understand what he was doing. It sounded like he was disobeying orders, to get me out of there. But that makes no sense. Why would he help me? He is the reason I’m here in the first place.
Suddenly, multiple people were holding my arms and I felt them cleaning the blood and bandaging it up tightly. I whined, letting a few more tears stream down my face because their fingers occasionally touched my open wounds. Quaritch had one of his hands under my arm, holding me up and the other now went to my face, holding my cheek and pressing my head against his body. As if he were trying to comfort me.
Once they were done, Miles didn’t hesitate to pick me up. I hated being picked up because I was worried I would be too heavy or people would accidentally drop me. But he swooped me into his arms like I weighed nothing. And to be honest, compared to him, I weighed little. He held me bridal style first. Then stopped his movements for a second and lifted me over his shoulder.
Miles didn’t care whether he disobeyed an order. This wasn’t what was agreed on. Blood tests yes, hypnotising critical, but the carving into the skin. Absolutely not. While he was carrying you, he realised he hated everything they did to you. He hated the way they held you. Not that he was any better, also always manhandling you. But he would never perform that kind of torture on you.
He confused himself, getting more angry when he realised he may slightly care for you in the tiniest most horrible way.
Miles walked out of that room, with me hanging from his shoulder again. He didn’t care what they thought. It wasn’t their business after all. He had captured you. You were his prisoner. They had no right to intervene in his things.
We reached a new room and I was placed down on cold tiles, a bit too harshly for my liking. He was angry again and I didn’t know whether he was angry at me or not.
“You smell like shit. Go shower.” he snarled at me, pointing towards the multiple empty showers. He didn’t need you getting everything dirty.
He then turned away and walked behind a few lockers, giving me privacy. Miles would be lying if he said he didn’t like the way you smelled. It wasn’t bad at all, he just couldn’t keep letting his emotions slip out. He had to stay focused on his mission and he wasn’t expecting you to make that so difficult for him.
I rolled my eyes and wanted to tell him he didn’t smell any better but I was still overwhelmed by what just happened to me, I wasn’t sure whether I could form a sentence. Instead of killing my head trying to think, I attempted to follow his orders and started to undress. I didn’t trust anyone here so I kept my underwear on. Once I stood there in a bra and panties I attempted to take one step forward on my hurt leg. The pain was now burning and it felt sharp every time I flexed or used the cut muscle on my calf. I yelped, trying to bite the pain back. I started to lose balance and fell forward on my bandaged arms. That hurt like shit too and another whine left my mouth, leaving me on the cold floor, shaking.
Behind me, I heard footsteps and knew they belonged to Quaritch. He quickly walked over to me when he heard me and saw me barely holding myself up on the ground. Thank Eywa again that I wasn’t naked. I heard him huff again and expected him to shout at me to go shower.
Instead, he spoke to me in a rather soft tone. Nothing even close to the way he barked out the order before.
“You alright? Want me to help you?”
I looked up at him, mouth slightly open and shocked. Who was this imposter in his body?
He refused to let his gaze falter and land on your body. While to you, he looked like he was just watching you, he was fighting himself to not look at you and forced his gaze only on your eyes or the tile floor.
“Yes, please.” I say, much quieter than expected. It was almost a whisper and I wondered whether he even heard it. But once he slowly leaned down and pulled me up onto my feet, I knew he did.
He helped me walk over to a showerhead and stood underneath it with me. The water was turned on and he tried to turn it warm as fast as possible.
Quaritch wasn’t under the water, he had his arms under yours, holding you steady. His figure was leaning forward a bit because otherwise, you would be in the air. He also handed you a bar of soap and you started washing yourself with it.
He would have expected himself to just rub you down with soap himself to get things done but suddenly you seemed so pure to him. He didn’t want to ruin you by doing that. He was now terrified of making you feel uncomfortable. He looked away again, staring at a wall. When he felt you relax into his touch and heard your hums as you washed your body, he felt a sense of pride in his chest. He was the one holding and helping you. He thought about what happened in the lab and imagined if one of them would have washed you or even just been in the same room while you washed yourself. The thought made him clench his jaw again and flick his tail in annoyance. He felt the need to protect you, even if he was the biggest threat to you. These thoughts made him curse himself and he swore to himself he could not let you even get close to the idea that he had a weak spot for you.
When you were done, he lifted you into the air by holding you under your arms and placed you in front of a locker. He realised you couldn’t change back into your old dirty clothes, so he went to his locker and grabbed one of his shirts. He threw it on the bench in front of you.
“Get dressed and hurry up.” he sternly said, his expression hateful again. I didn’t understand him. Why was he so mean again when two minutes ago he seemed like an angel.
Miles walked out of the room with wide heavy steps and slammed the door closed. I quickly pulled his shirt over my head, realising that was all he gave me. A few minutes after, two people came into the locker room and escorted me back to the empty room with the metal table. They didn’t help me walk, they just pushed me every time I got too slow. I glanced around, looking for Miles, but he was nowhere to be seen.
The next day, went by quickly too. I spent most of it in that room. Time felt different there.
I would be given food on plastic trays. It was a grey-looking soup with some stale bread. I refused, not trusting them. What if they put something in there to knock me out? It also just smelled really bad.
They couldn’t get me to eat or drink. I just felt so alone and vulnerable. I wanted to go home.
After an hour, the door opened and Miles walked it again. I ignored him this time, not even bothering to look up to make sure it really was him.
He stopped in the doorway and looked at the tray full of untouched food and the unopened bottle. To be honest, I wasn’t sure how to open bottles anymore. The scientist Avatars like Norm used to have them back home, that’s how I knew them.
“You need to eat you know?” he said, bending down to pick up the tray and walking over to me with it. I looked away from it, hating how it smelled. No way was I going to put that anywhere near my mouth.
“Look at me when I’m talking to you!” he demands, and I do. His face is irritated again.
He offered it to me and I just moved away. I heard him sigh. A few minutes later he replies with a calmer voice.
“Yeah, I’m not too fond of this either.” he explained while I pretended like I wasn’t listening. I just wanted to leave.
“Here.” he said. I wondered whether he was offering me the tray again. I turned to look and he opened the bottle, handing it to me. I inspected it, trying to see whether it was water. He clearly understood my concerns and took the first sip.
“You see? It’s just water.”
I nod and take it from him, unable to bear my thirst any longer. I gulp down the whole bottle and Miles watches. He seems impressed and surprised.
“Woah, slow down there sugar. Don’t want you chokin’. “ he smirks but I refuse to show him any emotions.
He notices my behaviour and pulls out a plastic wrapper from his pocket.
“These taste better.” he mumbles, opening it for me before getting up and leaving with the tray. I watch the door close behind him and then I pick up the snack he left behind. It was covered in writing, which I didn’t bother reading. I ate the whole thing and he was right. It did taste better.
I was laying on the cold metal table, trying to find a position to lie in which didn’t hurt. I was given a thin towel-like cloth and I used it as a blanket. The shirt Quaritch gave me went all the way to my knees. I was engulfed by it basically. I didn’t know whether it was his or not, but I imagined it was. It oddly made me feel safer.
After another hour of laying wide awake and extremely uncomfortable, I tried the floor. The second I lay down I got up again, realising it was worse. A lot worse than the table. How could they expect me to fall asleep on that? And after what they put me through? How could I even sleep?
I was so exhausted and just wanted to drop down and sleep, but I couldn’t on this surface. Last night I didn’t sleep at all. I was going to start losing it soon.
I slowly walked over to where the door would appear and open and close. I pressed my palms against it and knocked a few times, hoping someone would hear me.
Then I attempted the weird mirror glass. When walking past my room before, I looked around and noticed there was a room right next to mine, and the mirror was just tinted glass that could be looked through from the other side. I tried looking through and knocked a few times before giving up. I didn’t know what to do. I slowly turned away and started walking back to the table when a voice came from all corners of my room.
“What do you need?” I heard Quaritch’s voice, which wasn’t angry. It was a sleepy, soft voice. It still made me flinch so hard that I almost fell again. I didn’t know where to look to answer.
“I can’t sleep.” I say. The next few minutes are silent and I wonder whether I actually heard that or whether I was so tired that I was hearing things.
Suddenly the door beeps and it opens. The person I was hoping it was, entered my room. Miles moved through the hole called a door and stood in my room on the other side. Even from there, he was towering over me.
He still wore his tank top but had different pants on. They looked more comfortable. (Sweatpants)
I stared up at him and couldn’t help but let my eyes roam his body. Since he wasn’t that close to me, I hoped he couldn’t see. I pressed my lips together when I finally raised how huge he was. His torso was large, and his biceps too. Fuck, he was ripped. I would have never in a thousand years imagined myself feeling attracted to a blue Avatar. Not even a real Na’vi, just an avatar. How did I only realise now how good he looked?
Miles secretly took notes of where he saw my eyes trail. While my action boosted his ego immensely, he didn’t want to show it.
He did some looking too, while you were at it. He remembered giving you his shirt and almost let out a groan when he saw how big it was on you. Remembering he gave you nothing else to put on underneath he had to bite down on his lip. Beneath that was what he had seen before in the showers. He wished he would have not given you the shirt just to see you like that again. But then everyone would have seen you like that, and he hated that thought. This way, it was at least clear to others that you were his business. You were his. His shirt marked you like that.
Once he noticed I was done looking he spoke up.
“Come with me.” he says. I walk over to him but before I can go through the door he stands in front of me. Miles pulls out flexible handcuffs.
“Can’t risk you escaping.” he says before taking my loose hanging arms and cuffing them together in front of me. It’s not like I could run away if I tried to. Everything hurt too much. I also felt too tired to struggle and make it difficult for him to put them on me, so I just stayed still.
He then put his arm on my upper back and guided me through dark empty hallways. We reached an area where I had never been before and he entered a pin to get inside. Once more doors opened, I noticed how the labs faded. Instead, there were just rooms.
Quaritch stopped at one door and opened it, letting me go inside first. I didn’t question it, I just did. He watched in silence as my figure entered his room. Something about this made him excited but he immediately tensed his muscles, restraining the feeling.
The temperature here was much more comfortable. I looked around and saw a small chair, a pile of clothes, a table and on the other side of the room a huge bed. It must have been his because it was enormous. I guess they needed bigger beds as Avatars. I stood in the middle of the room, looking around and waiting for him to say something.
Miles carefully walked inside behind me, closing the door and flicking on the light.
I looked up at him, wondering why he brought me here. His expression changed again. He looked guilty of something. Ashamed.
“Why am I here?” I ask him because he wasn’t hinting to start talking.
“I figured this would be more comfortable than the table in your room.” he mumbled, his arm reaching up and rubbing the back of his neck. I just nod. Even the floor had a small carpet. That would do.
“There?” I ask, pointing to the carpet next to the bed. Miles is speechless. You thought he brought you here to make you sleep on the goddamn floor? If anyone would take the floor, it would be him, he thought.
“No, here.” he replies, his hand on my back again, guiding me to his bed. I just stand in front of it. He is letting me, the prisoner, sleep in his bed?
“Really?” I ask, wondering if this is some sick joke. He nods and nudges me forwards with his hand to get on it. I happily comply, given how exhausted I am.
I lay down and look up at him. He gazes down at me, still looking sad and ashamed.
I wonder what he is thinking. What is up with him? His mood swings confuse me.
“Thank you.” I say, showing him a small smile. It seems to help his foul mood a little. He gives me the smallest smile before going to shut the light off.
“Wait, where will you sleep?” I ask quickly. Even if he was a rude asshole and held me hostage in this hell hole, I didn’t want to take his bed from him.
He points at the chair, his face neutral now. I instantly feel bad and start scootching out of bed. He seems panicked and motions for me to lie back down.
“Hey, no no no. You need some sleep. This is fine for me, really.” he tells me and I stop.
Miles is secretly shocked and emotionally moved when he sees your reaction, realising that you care for his comfort. No one here does or has. It’s a new pleasant feeling.
“The bed is big enough for you too.” I say, moving to one side. It really was. If one would place me down like trivia blocks, about 10 of me’s would fit in this bed comfortably.
Miles just looks at me, not showing any signs or emotions, other than his ears perking up.
“I don’t want to make you feel-” he starts rambling but I interrupt him.
“I don’t mind, sir.” I reply innocently.
Sir, he thought. You have never addressed him like that before. You would also stop having to say that otherwise, it would make sharing a bed with you much harder for him.
He was also tired and in fact, could not wait to go to sleep today. Since you made it clear you had no problem with this, he slowly made his way to the bed. On the way, he took off his tank top, throwing it over a chair, before gently laying down next to you.
I looked away when I saw him undressing, but I had already seen his bare torso. Holy shit. His torso looked like it was sculpted by a god. He looked like a fucking god. And now he was laying next to me. Fuck.
I wanted to say goodnight, but it felt too personal and intimate. I didn’t want to weird him out with that, so I stayed quiet and turned to my side. I was facing the wall, with my back facing him. It would be weird if I was looking at him while falling asleep.
Miles raised his arm and flicked the light switch off, before covering both of us with his blanket and settling down.
When I felt him gently place the blanket over me my heart almost exploded. He seemed so gentle and caring. I couldn’t handle it. My cheeks started heating up and I dared not to move.
I forced my eyes closed but all that did was bring back the images of his huge hand, his angry tense body, and his shirtless torso. I bit down on my lip. The fact that he was laying right behind me without anything on but his sweatpants, did not help my emotions.
A few minutes ago, I was the most tired person on Pandora. Now, I was wide awake. Suddenly I wasn’t cold anymore, but my body felt too warm and I wanted to take the blanket off.
I felt how the bed was dipped where he was laying. His breathing seemed so close to me. Reminding me of when he hunted me down in the forest and whispered in my ear. The memory made goosebumps rise on my skin.
I suddenly felt an unusual warmth between my legs. Without thinking, I rubbed my thighs together and clenched them. Why was I feeling this for him? And why now? I was too terrified to move, in case I would wake him and he would notice. My mind was driving me crazy and I was going over every possible scenario in my head.
Miles tried clearing his mind, hoping to fall asleep quickly. He forced his eyes closed and tried to imagine that you were not there. Thoughts of you would otherwise flood his mind again and he would get excited to the point where he won’t be able to sleep. But then again, he had them in the back of his head and he felt good about himself. Good, because you felt comfortable enough to sleep so close to him. A sleeping creature is always vulnerable and you seemed to trust him enough? It didn’t make sense to Quaritch. But he enjoyed it. Your breathing was so faint he almost couldn’t hear it. When he started to finally drift off, a specific smell filled his nostrils which made his eyes shoot open. He lay still for a while, trying to understand what it was. His nose was sensitive and his ears were too. He could smell things a human perhaps couldn’t and he was able to pick up that your breathing seemed slightly faster and uneven. All the sleepiness in his body had vanished. While his Avatar was inexperienced in this area, he could still understand what he smelled. It wasn’t just a smell. It was a scent. And it wasn’t just any scent, it was yours. His jaw tensed again and he slowly moved his head to look over at you. He needed any little movement or action to confirm his theory.
Suddenly, he watched your body move, your thighs rubbing together and you clenching them. His eyes shot open even more and his pupils dilated. He was getting lust drunk off your scent. And the fact that you were in his bed, wearing his shirt, with minimal clothing, and handcuffs, made his feelings grow even more.
All the thoughts in my head must have pulled me out of reality so much, that I didn’t notice Quaritch move behind me. I was snapped back to reality when I felt his warm breath on my neck again. He wasn’t touching me, but I could tell he wasn’t laying down anymore and got much closer.
For a few seconds, we both stayed still. I was listening to his breath and he was almost inhaling my scent.
“You know, I can smell you, sugar.” he mumbled. His breath moved to my face and I could tell he was looking at me. Even though the lights were off, there were plenty of security lights etc. lighting up the room. It was enough to fully still see him.
I felt his tail slowly wrap around my leg and goosebumps erupted on my skin again. I slowly turned my head to look at him. He was leaning on his forearms, his eyes staring down at me. I swallowed nervously but I couldn’t break the eye contact.
His eyes were almost hypnotising and the small specks of light coming from his skin were reflected in my eyes.
His tongue darted out and glided over his lips, his eyes deeply staring into mine.
“Just say so sugar, and I’ll make you mine.” he whispered, his fangs slightly visible. I was almost soaked at this point. I couldn’t resist him any longer.
I turn my entire body to face him and shiver at his words. “Please…” I whisper, not sure of what to say.
He seems very pleased. His body shifts and he is now right above me, both his hands on either side of my head and his knees resting on the outside of my legs. I’m trapped beneath him and fuck he looks so good like this.
“Please what, baby?” he asks sarcastically. He knew exactly what I meant. I could see it in his eyes. To tease me even more, he leaned down so that his face was inches away from mine. His ears were perked, waiting for my reply. His tail was amusingly waving from one side to the other. But his big yellow eyes, which seemed to turn much darker now, were staring me down intensely.
My gaze flickered from his eyes to his lips. Miles noticed but remained still. Fucking hell he was making this so difficult for me. I gave up, deciding to just give in.
“Please touch me, Miles.” I whimper now, squirming beneath him.
He lets out a groan at your words and can’t restrain himself from touching you any longer.
He lets his head drop into the crook of your neck and starts kissing, licking and nibbling at the skin. I let out a soft sigh, leaning my head to the side to give him better access.
One of his hands reaches for my handcuffed ones and pulls them above my head, holding them there. His huge palm manages to close around both of my firsts. He shifts his weight onto his knees and starts to explore my body with his other hand. Touch was important to Quaritch. He was able to understand things better when they were physically in front of him.
His palms glided over my back to my waist all the way down to my bare legs and back up again. He touched almost all of my body at this point and I felt him bite down on my neck. I squeaked and my muscles tensed at his actions.
“Shh it’s okay.” he cooed in my ear, licking the spot he just attacked. “Need to mark you as mine, baby. Then everyone will know who you belong to.” he mumbled into my ear, kissing my cheek as I relaxed again.
Miles mainly meant his squad. A few of his men, one of whom was Lyle, who was a pain in the ass for Quaritch, talked about you in a disrespectful sexual way. Miles wanted to punch him but he couldn’t risk showing he cared for you in even the slightest way.
He pulled away and stared down at me.
His eyes raked down my entire body, being especially interested in the way you were hidden and almost swallowed up by his shirt. This was one of his tight t-shirts and the sight of you in it drove him absolutely fucking feral. He never thought the size difference between you and him would have such an effect on him. Little did he know, you loved it too.
He looked into your eyes and noticed how they got all glossy and big.
Quaritch slowly leaned down, switching his gaze from my eyes to my lips, and back. I let my lips slightly fall open and he did too. He was so close we were breathing each other’s air. Both of us couldn’t take it anymore. We pressed our lips together and just that small action made a warm feeling spread through my entire body.
He finally relaxed and seemed relieved. Almost as if he were worried I wouldn’t accept the kiss.
His palm squeezed my hip and I was so overwhelmed by everything, including how big he was compared to me, I moaned into his mouth.
Miles inhaled sharply and bit down on my lip, luckily not drawing blood as he did on my neck.
Fuck the noises you made drove him wild. But he couldn’t get enough and needed to hear more.
He pulled away and focused on undoing my handcuffs with one hand. Once they clicked open, I moved them to his body running them down his muscley chest. I let them trail down to his abs before bringing them back up and running them along his broad shoulders.
Miles shuddered above me. No one has ever touched him like this. At least not the body he was in now. The sensations were all new to him and while he knew roughly what to do from his old self, his reactions were triggered easier due to his sensitivity. He felt appreciated and wanted by you. That was all he would ever emotionally need.
I explored his torso with my small bare hands, feeling every muscle and scar on his skin. Miles meanwhile started toying with the hem of his shirt on me and sat up.
“Can I?” he asked, seeming a little hesitant. I nod quickly, trying to remove it. His eyes lit up and lifted my back up carefully and helped me slip out of the huge t-shirt.
After throwing it to the ground, he returned his gaze to me and audibly groaned this time. He looked over every inch of bare skin as if he was trying to memorise it.
I felt shy because no one has ever seen me like this. Sure the Na’vi back home have but it wasn’t sexual. It was their normal clothing. This was different and special to me.
His body was back on top of mine and he let his weight fall slightly more onto me so that we were rubbing against each other.
He started to kiss down my body and occasionally licked a stripe down my skin with his hot wet tongue. God, it felt so good. I arched my back into him, giving him confirmation I liked it.
He reached for my bra and ripped it off cleanly without any effort. He didn’t have the patience to ask you for consent again. He craved your body and he knew you craved his. That’s all that mattered to him. So when you got shy and tried to cover yourself, he snarled at you, harshly pulling your arms away.
I moaned, letting my arms rest around his strong neck when he groped one of my breasts and licked around the nipple of the other. A gasp escaped my lips when I felt how strong his tongue was. It had to be bigger too. I couldn’t help but imagine what it would feel like in other places.
His kisses of appreciation moved further down my body and he crawled back so he could access me easier.I watched him with similar lust-drunk eyes and noticed how his tail was happily waving through the air.
He stopped once he reached my panties, kissing the insides of my thighs before looking back at me. He wasn’t asking. He mischievously watched my reaction as he took the cloth between his teeth, ripping it with his fangs and throwing it away. My gasp made him grin and then he was met with the most intoxicating and stimulating scent again. He kissed your lower abdomen and inhaled deeply.
All common sense and politeness were thrown out the window now. The sight, your noises and your smell made him completely feral. Miles was going wild and nothing could stop him.
He moved further down the bed, probably crouching down at the end of it and tugging my body by my thighs hastily towards him. He couldn’t take his eyes off my dripping pussy. It was so inviting and arousing, he needed to taste you.
Before I could say or do anything else, he splayed out his huge palm on my abdomen, pushing me down like before, and wrapped the other one fully around one of my thighs, pushing my legs apart. Then, Quaritch dived his head onto where I needed him most. Miles flattened out his tongue and licked me all the way from my entrance to my clit, making sure to get my wetness all over his tongue.
His pupils seemed to expand even a little further and his ears were now tensed back. This was the best thing he’s ever experienced or tasted. Without hesitation he leaned back down, gripping your thigh more roughly as he started lapping away at your folds. He attached his lips to my clit for a few moments before kitten-licking it. His eyes were focused on his target as if it would disappear if he looked away.
I moaned and gripped the bedsheets, feeling pleasure ignite in me at his rough contact. He made me feel so good.
He occasionally growled against my skin, holding me down harder when I would instinctively try to move away. I was sensitive too and this feeling was overwhelming.
Suddenly he forced his tongue inside me and I almost screamed. Holy shit. Miles started to tongue fuck me while rubbing my clit with his hand. He let go of my thigh now and reached his entire arm around my abdomen, holding me in place. I wouldn’t be able to move away even if I tried.
I felt pleasure start to build up inside me and the butterflies in my stomach kept newly erupting. He was apparently able to tell I was close by the way I clenched my muscles because he pulled away.
I looked over at him not understanding why he stopped. He gave me a shit-eating grin before slowly crawling back on top of me. His face was above mine again and he licked his lips to make sure he hadn’t missed anything.
“The first time you cum will be on my dick, sugar.” he whispered. I bit my lip and closed my eyes, almost moaning at his words. He kissed the other side of my neck this time before gliding his hands back down my body and inserting a finger into me. His one finger felt as big as three human fingers. He started to thrust it in and out of me and a moderate pace, to stretch me out. In the state I was in, I wouldn’t be able to fit even his tip inside me.
“You’re doing so well, baby.” he cooed again to comfort me in case it felt uncomfortable. Then he inserted a second one. “So good.” he whispered, hushing my whimpers. After a little while, I started to feel pleasure through his actions. His fingertips were brushing up against a spot inside me I didn’t even know existed.
Miles then pulled out his fingers and brought them to his mouth, licking the slick off before tapping my lips. I obliged and opened my mouth and he put his two fingers in. I swirled my tongue around them, cleaning the rest of me off of him. When I locked eyes with him, he wasn’t staring at me. He was gazing at me, in awe. His eyes softened again and he kissed my chest. I felt and heard him purr against me and it made me want to smother him with kisses.
I was growing impatient, feeling how empty I was. I desperately needed him inside me. He was able to read that off my expression. I tugged at the waistband of his sweatpants with my foot, trying to push it down. I wasn’t able to reach all the way there with my arms. He grinned before saying “You needy little vixen”.
“Please, Miles. Stop teasing…” I whined and he nodded.
“Okay, okay baby. Don’t worry.” he calmed me down before sitting back on his feet and winking. “I’ll give you what you want.”
Within a few moments, his pants were off and my mouth fell open, my eyes wide again. I couldn’t tear my eyes away from his dick. It was unbelievable. I mean I knew it was going to be big, but this big? Wow. I didn’t know whether I felt even more aroused or whether I felt scared. I think it was a bit of both.
He watched my reaction and it gave him the biggest ego boost he could have asked for. Teasingly, he crawled back over me and wiped some drool from my lip.
“There is no way that will f-” I start to ramble but he places a finger over my lips, shushing me.
“Shhh, let me handle that.”
Quaritch lowered his waist onto mine, letting his member rest on my stomach. I stare with wide eyes as he caresses the spot where his tip reaches. He reaches all the way to the valley of my breasts.
“This is how far inside you I would be.” he whispers. I know he wouldn’t go that far. It wasn’t physically possible. But the size difference between him and me drove us both crazy. He loved how he could manhandle and move me to his liking and I loved that he did just that. I never felt so submissive in my life.
He lowered his hips and his pulsing cock came in contact with my dripping wet heat. I bit my lip and he let out a sigh of pleasure. He started to slowly glide himself through my folds, covering his shaft in my slick. His head dropped down just above my chest again and I felt his hot breath on my burning skin. Miles let out a quiet moan, his senses probably flooding his body right now. He continued rutting his hips up against me, exploring this feeling further. I held his cheek, keeping his face resting on my skin. As if support him. Since it was new to him too, he needed to be held just like I did right now. I brushed my fingers through his hair and stroked down his braided ponytail. He groaned into me again, the sensitivity of his braid overwhelming him.
He then stopped his movements and adjusted his weight on his arms. Miles’ eyes found mine and he looked at me in a pleading way. I think he was asking for permission one final time. Because he won’t be able to stop himself once he is drowning in pleasure.
I smiled, grabbing him by his hanging dog tag which was reflecting light and pulled him in for another kiss. He kissed me deeply and his tongue invaded my mouth, exploring new areas. I moaned into the kiss and that was all the persuading it took. Without breaking the kiss, Quaritch adjusts himself with my entrance before starting to slowly push inside. He stops his actions after his tip pushed past my tight walls. I bit my lip, feeling how even that already stretched me out and saw how Miles was struggling to not move, his heavy-lidded eyes watching me. I steadied my breath, focusing on his eyes before nodding lightly. He lowered his upper body on his forearms so his chest was pressed against mine. Then, Miles started to push further into me. I whined but he couldn’t stop. His senses were overwhelmed, he needed to feel just a bit more of me.
Once Miles was halfway inside me he stopped and moaned against my skin again. I blinked away tears, trying to get used to the uncomfortable stretch. He saw my reaction and kissed me again.
“You’re doing so well, baby. So good for me.” he praised and my cheeks heated up again. “Shh.” he cooed. “I’ll make you feel good, I promise.”
I nod, my arms holding him against me. I glide my fingers over the muscles in his back to distract myself. He slowly pulls out and then gently thrusts back in. Quaritch repeats this action a few times, watching my reaction to see if I really wouldn’t be able to take him anymore. He doesn’t thrust further into me, he would be afraid to hurt me. He continues what he is doing until he feels that I start to relax a bit. Once I seem in a good enough state for his liking, he increases his speed, keeping up his preferred pace. I feel him brush against a sweet spot inside me and it makes me arch myself into him and curl my toes. This action is immediately noticed and Miles focuses on reaching that spot with every thrust, getting a little harsher each time. Soon, I feel like a ragdoll and a moan escapes my lips. It drives him wild and Miles hisses, his ears strained back and his tail tensed, wrapping around my leg again. I start to feel the same pleasure build up in my stomach and slowly start to shake at how full I am. I’ve never felt anything as good as this.
“Fuck, M-Miles. I’m so- … I.” I can’t even form sentences but neither can he.
“I know- just, hrgh, hold on.” he groans, speeding up even more. I wrap my legs around his waist, pulling him into me even further and drops his head in pleasure again, focusing on his hip movement.
I can tell he is close when his thrusts become a bit sloppier. He continues fucking up into me mercilessly before finally groaning. “Let go, sugar. Cum for me.”
And that is all I needed to hear. Within seconds, my legs were shaking, my core tensed up and I almost screamed again. Miles aggressively thrust into me as deep as he could before he stilled and tensed completely too. I felt him bite down into the skin of my neck again before he emptied his cum inside me with a loud moan. My orgasm was so intense my eyes rolled to the back of my head and my mouth was gaping open.
The two of us stayed like that until Miles more or less collapsed onto me. He was heavy but he wasn’t crushing me. He kept his face buried in between my neck and shoulder, while the both of us tried to calm down.
I hoped he wouldn’t pull away and walk out. And get up and just push me back to my room. I honestly doubted it because he was so sweet to me just now. But maybe he just needed to release some of his anger out? The thought made me worry and I felt my heart sink when he moved.
He carefully lifted himself up a bit and looked down between our bodies. I followed his gaze with my eyes and gulped when I saw what he was showing me. There was a huge bulge in my stomach. Miles carefully reached down and pushed down on it, making me flinch away. It didn’t hurt, it just felt weird. Then he slowly pulled out and we both watched the bulge move lower down until it disappeared.
But after that Miles didn’t get up, he just turned his head to look at me, slowly letting his weight rest on me again. His eyes gazed over my face again, taking note of my still, parted lips, red cheeks, and beads of sweat. He examined my eyes and just stared. A soft smile appeared on his face.
“I don’t think I will ever be able to let you leave me, Y/N.” he whispered, using my real name and tucking a strand of hair behind my ear.
“You’re beautiful.” he mumbled.
I blushed at his words and embraced as much of his body as I could, in my arms.
“I don’t think I want to leave you.” I say, surprising both of us with my words. An hour ago I would have made a run for it if I saw an open exit. Now, I still want to meet my family, but I feel emotionally attached to Miles.
He can tell that I haven’t changed my mind about my family. He didn’t expect me to.
“We can work somethin’ out about that.” he replies and I beam up at him, smiling again. He kisses me on my lips again.
Miles rolls off of me and back onto the side of the bed, he lay on before. I lay next to him and then suddenly he unexpectedly pulls me to him, wrapping his massive arms around me, almost cradling me. I feel like a teddy bear. Size-wise, that would be pretty accurate.
Both of us are beyond exhausted at this point, so we lay in each other’s presence. I carefully caress and stroke his arm and he purrs into my ear. After a while, before we even get to say goodnight to each other, both of us drifted into a deep sleep.
Characters: Miles Quaritch (post ATWOW), Original Character
Word count: 1948
The mountains that faced the sea breathed differently at dusk. The air carried the weight of both worlds, salt and pine, resin and tide, warmth and chill, a mingling that always made Ni’Nätya feel as though she stood between two lives. When the ache for the Raizkit became too loud to quiet, she came here, to the border cliffs of Myuntsoka, where the ocean spilled out in molten gold and the wind sang of home. The highlands fell away behind her in ribs of green stone, forests fading to violet, and far below the sea glimmered like a living thing, restless and unknowable. She had told herself she had made peace with this distance. But the heart, she’d learned, was a stubborn creature that could not be reasoned with.
She sat near the edge, knees drawn close, chin resting against her arms. The sun was lowering, slow and deliberate, painting everything it touched with farewell light. Akaska stood behind her, steady and immense, the pale ridges of her wings catching the glow like glass. The ikram snorted, displeased with the scent of salt in the air, shifting her talons against the stone. Ni’Nätya turned slightly, her lips curving.
“Ma Akaska…” she whispered, “always complaining.”
A low, huffing sound answered her. They understood each other, a language older and simpler than speech. Akska was mountain-born, bred for thin air and ice-bright skies, but she endured the sea wind because Ni’Nätya asked her to. Loyalty, Ni’nätya had come to believe, was love in another form.
She strokes the thick hide at Akska’s shoulder without looking. The ikram snorts softly, reaching down to nudge Ni’Nätya’s braid once, like a reminder. You can look. You can fly. You can always go forward even if you cannot go back.
“I know.” she murmurs. The word dissolves into the wind. She has said it a hundred times: I know. I cannot go back. The Raizkit is a closed door now, a sweetness that only stings when she looks at it straight. She carries the archipelago differently these days… at the edges of her sight, inside the rhythms of her hands. The mountain people call her sister, and truly they have become so; the Myuks’kyuvun ways have folded around her like a woven mantle, warm and practical. But there are nights like this when the old sea green rises in her throat and she remembers the wet weight of a tidepool star, the hush of lanterns along the jetty, voices carried across water. She reminds herself that the sea is not gone. It is below. It breathes on the base of these mountains, slipping into the inlets and coves like a cat. The same moon lifts the same tide.
The first stars began to wake in the pale sky when the wind changed. It came with a shudder that lifted the fine hairs on Ni’Nätya’s arms, a vibration deep enough to feel in her bones, not thunder, not wings she knew. A sound too heavy for a storm and too wild for anything living that belonged here. She stood quickly, scanning the horizon, her eyes narrowing against the light.
And then she saw it: a dark shape slicing through the layers of cloud, dropping fast and wrong. Wings folded, then flared, one catching the air, the other collapsing in on itself. A shriek tore through the valley: the unmistakable cry of an ikran, but distorted, deeper, desperate. Ni’Nätya’s heart seized. Akaska roared in instinctive alarm, feathers bristling, head snapping upward.
Before Ni’Nätya could think, the shape was upon them, a flash of movement, a trail of smoke and broken sky. She threw herself aside as it plummeted, the impact shaking the earth so hard that dust burst upward in clouds. The smell hit her next: iron, burnt leather, salt. Akaska screamed, wings flaring wide. The fallen creature writhed on the stone, one wing twisted grotesquely, its cries raw enough to scrape the inside of her skull.
But it wasn’t the sound that froze her. It was the second thud, heavier, wet with the sound of breath punched out of lungs. Something had fallen with it. Someone.
Ni’Nätya’s body moved before her thoughts caught up. She sprinted toward the wreckage, coughing against the dust. The fallen ikran (smaller, sleeker, alien in its form) snapped its head weakly, eyes rolling, one membrane torn open. Its chest heaved in shallow bursts. She felt the surge of empathy instinctively, but her gaze had already caught on the figure sprawled a few paces beyond it.
He was enormous, easily taller than most Na’vi men she had seen, his body corded with the kind of muscle that did not come from living with the land, but from training against it. He lay twisted, one arm bent awkwardly beneath him, chest rising with effort. His skin was darker than the mountain hue, patterned with stripes that seemed half-faded under grime and salt. When she knelt beside him, the small, impossible details fell into place: the eyebrows, the blunt nails, the five fingers curling loosely against the rock. Her stomach tightened.
The stories were true, then.
For a long moment, she only knelt there, listening to his breathing, uneven, deliberate, controlled even through pain. He was trying to master it, to steady each inhale as if counting, the way soldiers did. A scar ran along his collarbone, disappearing beneath torn fabric. His garments were strange, tight, practical, armored in patches, nothing like Na’vi weaving.
A recom.
She’d heard the word murmured by the elders like a warning passed through smoke: ghosts of men who once burned forests, wearing borrowed bodies and false prayers. The younger warriors spoke of them with disdain and superstition; others swore they had all been destroyed at the reef. Yet here one was, bleeding into her hands.
Her pulse hammered. She almost reached for her blade, but something stopped her. Perhaps the simple fact that he was alive, and barely. Whatever crimes his kind had done, this one was now a body at the edge of death, no threat at all.
Akaska growled from behind, low and distrustful. Ni’Nätya lifted a hand without looking back. “Stay.” she murmured. The ikram’s claws scraped the rock but she obeyed, her tail flicking in irritation.
Ni’Nätya pressed her fingers against the man’s neck, pulse, faint but steady. She moved her hand to his chest; the beat there was stronger, slower. When she leaned closer, her shadow cut across his face. The faint shimmer of breath fogged against her arm.
“Eywa…” she whispered, not in prayer but in disbelief. “You should not be here.”
His eyelids fluttered. The eyes beneath were startling- sharp even through pain. For an instant, they locked on hers, unfocused but searching. The look carried something cold and practiced; the reflex of a man who never stopped assessing even as he bled. Then his gaze slipped away, lost again to the dark.
“Don’t die on me.” Ni’Nätya said softly in Na’vi, pressing her hand to his chest. “Do you hear me? Don’t you dare.”
The breath under her palm hitched once, shallow, but real. She took that as an answer enough.
“Ma Akska.” she called. “Come.”
The great ikram approached, huffing, uneasy at the scent of the stranger. Ni’Nätya moved quickly, sliding her arms beneath his shoulders. He was heavier than she’d expected, the dense weight of someone built for strength, not grace. Her muscles burned as she hauled him against Akska’s flank, securing him with the spare cords from her saddle. His head lolled against her shoulder for a moment, and she felt the heat radiating from him, fever or exhaustion, she couldn’t tell.
Whatever he was, he carried his violence like a map across his skin.
Ni’Nätya exhaled hard through her nose and turned back toward the wounded ikran. The creature still breathed, barely, its head lifting weakly when she approached.
“I see you.” she told it, voice trembling. “He lives. I will come back for you.”
It blinked, as if understanding.
Akska’s hiss pulled her back. The wind had begun to rise again, cold and urgent. She climbed onto the saddle, the man’s body slumped in front of her, arms bound across his torso to keep him steady.
“Hold.” she muttered under her breath, half-to herself, half to the unknown sky.
Then they leapt.
Air tore past her ears, sharp and thin. The drop was immediate, dizzying, the cliffs falling away as Akska’s wings snapped open. Ni’Nätya leaned low, her body aligned with the ikram’s movement, every muscle remembering the rhythm of flight. The man’s weight shifted against her, heavy but secure. His head rolled with each gust, the side of his face brushing her shoulder. Once, faintly, she heard him mumble, a word she couldn’t quite catch. It sounded like a name.
The sea opened below them, vast and dark. Stars glimmered like spilled light on its surface. Ni’Nätya focused on the familiar landmarks: the twin ridges, the narrow pass, the long curve of forest that cradled the Myuks’kyuvun settlement. The flight home was long enough for the fear to settle into something quieter.
She glanced down at the man again. His breathing had steadied into a rhythm that didn’t belong to the helpless. There was discipline even in unconsciousness, the kind of endurance that frightened her more than violence itself. The stories of the recoms said they were trained to survive anything, that their hearts beat to the pulse of command. Looking at him now, she almost believed it.
And yet, he looked mortal. His lips were cracked, his hands trembling faintly against the ropes, his skin shivering with the cold of altitude. Whatever ghost lived inside this flesh was fighting to stay there.
When they reached the high basin, the fires of the healer’s den shimmered like stars fallen to earth. Akaska descended in slow, heavy strokes. Ni’Nätya guided her to land near the central ledge, shouting for help before her feet even touched the ground.
Healers came running. They saw the five fingers, the strange uniform, the blood and they hesitated. She saw the questions form on their tongues, but Tsuneya, the elder healer, silenced them with a glance.
“Bring him in.” Tsuneya ordered.
They carried him inside. The den was warm, scented with crushed herbs and smoke. Under the lamplight, the stranger looked even stranger: a face both familiar and alien, the angles sharp, the expression unreadable even in sleep. The faint trace of human stubble shadowed his jaw. Ni’Nätya brushed away a streak of dirt and realized she was trembling again, though not from fear this time. From awe, maybe, or confusion.
Tsuneya’s hands moved with practiced precision, cleaning the wound, checking the pulse. “He will live…” she said finally. “For now.”
Ni’Nätya exhaled, only then realizing she’d been holding her breath since the moment he fell.
When they left him to rest, she lingered near the doorway. The others whispered among themselves ‘what is he, where did he come from, is he safe to keep alive?’ She didn’t answer. She only looked back at him, at the faint rise and fall of his chest.
Outside, the wind had turned colder. She stepped into it, leaning her head against Akaska’s neck. “We did what was right,” she whispered, the words stolen by the breeze. “Whatever he is, we did right.”
Above her, the stars were pale and watchful. Somewhere in the distance, the sea was breathing against the cliffs.
Inside the den, the stranger stirred once in his sleep. His hand flexed, as if grasping for something long lost, and a word slipped past his lips, quiet, human, full of old ghosts.
Can I get a yautja that's bad blood with a fem!reader who just wants to straight up kill him(revenge), but he just gets turned on every time she manages to pin him down.
I don't care if you make it nsfw or not. I just want that yautja to bully reader.
Here you go 🥰
Bad Blood Yautja x Fem reader
Hunt Me Harder
She was there to kill him. The Bad Blood had torn through her crew like a tornado. Left nothing but blood, wreckage and the sound of that sick little clicking laugh echoing through her head. He didn’t hunt for honor, he hunted for fun. And she? She was his new obsession. Unfortunately for him, she hit back. Hard. The night was thick, jungle wrapping her in humidity and tension. Her breathing was steady, trained. She crouched on the edge of the ridge, waiting. Watching. She felt he was close, she knew.
Then she heard it… click… click-click... she spun but too slow. The creature was already behind her. A massive hand slammed into her ribs, sending the her flying. She crashed through a tree trunk, rolled, and came up with her blade drawn.
“Still chasing me, little hunter?”
His voice was low, rasped, more growl than speech. His mask was off. Glowing yellow eyes bore into hers, fanged mandibles twitched into something close to a smirk. She lunged and feinted left, slammed her knee into his chest, caught him off guard and pinned him with one hand around his thick throat, blade pressed to his side.
“Not so tough now, are you?”
She scoffed. He didn’t fight back. He laughed low and dark, chest vibrating under her palm. He pushed up, and just like that, she was flipped, blade flying from her hand, her back hitting the dirt with a soft thud, as he straddled her in one smooth motion. His voice was right next to her ear now, deep and rumbling like thunder in her spine, letting out a low purr. His claws slid to her jawline, threatening. She slapped him across the face, hard. He blinked and grinned, looking back at her.
“Harder next time.”
She hated how good he looked above her. How wild his breath was. How hot his blood had felt on her hands. She hated that he wasn’t killing her. He was playing.
The woman snarled, wriggled and twisted up into another reversal, legs locked around his waist as she rolled him back and landed again on top. The Bad Blood’s hands stayed at his sides. He didn’t fight. He offered. She felt the low buzz of excitement in his chest again. Even when beaten.. especially when beaten he wanted her closer. She looked down at him. Massive. Deadly. Bloodied. Soaked in sins. She wasnt even sure if she could walk away this time.
can your write smut with a fem reader and an elder yautja( you can pick the scenario )
Here you go 🫶🏻
Elder Yautja x Female Reader (NSFW)
The Hunt Finds You
Set deep in the jungle you were supposed to be alone but something far more primal found you first. The jungle was alive but for once, it wasn’t beautiful. It was hungry. You ran. Branches sliced your arms. Sweat dripped down your back. Something massive snarled behind you, a wild cat maybe, or worse. Your breath caught as you tripped, tumbling hard into the mud, gasping for air. You turned when a flash of light and roar of something inhuman cut through the clearing. A blur slammed into the beast chasing you. Growls turned into shrieks, then silence and there he stood. Eight feet tall. Drenched in blood, masked, broad, radiating raw danger. A creature.. but not just any, a hunter. He was older, scarred. His dreadlocks were silvered, his armor worn with glory, trophies decorating his belt like warnings. You froze as he turned towards you and his mask clicked open. You should’ve been afraid. Yet you weren’t. His eyes raked over you, scanning your flushed skin, the curve of your hip, your chest rising with shallow breaths. His low growl vibrated through the air but not threatening.. interested. You swallowed.
“You saved me.”
He stepped closer. His head tilted and then he reached for your face. Rough fingers brushed the mud from your cheek. You gasped as his claws grazed your bottom lip. Your hips shifted and a shiver ran through your spine. He noticed. Of course he did.
“You fear me,”
He growled as he leaned closer.
“But your body… begs.”
You let out a gasp as you turned your head. He growled again, a low, territorial sound. His hand gripped your waist, lifting you like you weighed nothing. You were pinned against a tree in seconds, your legs wrapped around his hips, his thick body pressing tight to yours.
“You saved me…”
You whispered again, voice shaking but not out of fear. His tusks scraped your cheeks as he took in your scent. One massive hand slipped under your knee, spreading your thighs wider. He growled low against your ear as his thick fingers found your heat and paused. You gasped, hips bucking involuntarily as one thick finger dissapeared in your pants, teasing your folds. His claws were retracted, careful, he was.. gentle. His hand was massive, and the pad of his middle finger pressed slowly through your slickness, circling your clit, then lower. He dipped one thick finger inside. Your breath hitched, and you felt your body arch toward him instinctively. The stretch was enough to make you moan and he loved that sound, it made him more interested. His other hand gripped your hip tighter, claws pressing possessively into your skin. A second finger joined the first, slow and thick, pushing into you knuckle-deep. You cried out softly, your walls stretching around him, slick and fluttering. He growled, almost reverent. He curled his fingers. Right there. Your head hit the tree behind you as the heat lit your nerves. He pressed hard against that spot again and again his fingers moving with a control that could only come from years of knowing exactly how to ruin something delicate. And you were delicate to him, breakable, human, but not weak. You clawed at his chest armor, hips grinding helplessly against his palm as his thumb circled your clit in slow, devastating motions. You sobbed out in pure pleasure, eyes wild and glassy, overwhelmed. His fingers pumped faster, harder now, slick sounds filling the air, your cries growing louder as pressure built fast in your core. Your climax hit like a snap, hips trembling, thighs clenching around his waist, your moan muffled against his chest. He didn’t stop. He didn’t let you go. He slowed, easing you through it, thumb still brushing your clit in lazy strokes. You blinked once, twice and when you realized you were laid onto the ground. His eyes drank you in. Your soft flesh slick and twitching, flushed and exposed beneath him. His cock, thick, ridged and long, glistened with precum, the tip already pulsing. He loomed over you, one hand braced beside your head, the other gripping his cock. When he pressed it against your entrance, your breath caught. The stretch was immediate.
“So big—”
You gasped, hands gripping his arms. He pushed in slow, deliberate. Your walls clenched, fluttering in need. Every inch dragged with weight and heat, the ridges along his shaft stimulating you in ways no human ever had. You cried out, legs wrapping tight around his waist.
“You feel me?”
He hissed near your throat, you didn’t even have time to react as he bottomed you out in one powerful thrust.
“Deep… where no one else will ever reach.”
He growled as your back arched. You saw stars. His groan vibrated through your whole body as he stilled, letting you feel the full pressure of being filled, stretched, claimed, owned. He rolled his hips slowly, cock grinding against your sweet spot with deliberate, brutal precision. He snapped his hips. Once, twice, then again… faster. He pounded into you, your wetness loud and obscene, your body yielding to his every thrust. You clawed at his back, nails digging into scarred flesh. His tusks grazed your cheek, and then he purred.
“My prey,”
He growled, nuzzling against your neck.
“Made for me to breed.”
Your pussy clenched around him at the words. He purred again, savage and low. His hand slipped between your bodies, two thick fingers circling your clit again. You were already close again, needy and oversensitive. You shattered beneath him, spasming around his cock as you screamed out into the night. He roared, slamming into your heat deep and he came with a feral snarl, his heat filling you up. He didn’t pull out, not yet. He stayed there, buried deep, his forehead pressed to yours.
Note: Im not gonna try to sugar coat this character, I'm a top-level MonsterFucker. 😈
💉 Pyramid Head will always be taller than you, larger than you, and stronger than you. He is not nice he isn't soft, he is rough and mean if you do not do everything he wants you to do. Much harder because he physically can't talk.
💉 His fixation isn’t borne from love or desire- it’s a relentless compulsion to enforce retribution. Once he singles you out, it’s not about affection or connection; it’s about control, terror, and inevitability. You are a symbol of something deeper, though he never explains it— he simply looms, silent and oppressive.
💉 once he takes more interest in you than regular victims you're done for. It doesn't matter how much you cry and beg, he isn't sympathetic in the slightest.
💉 He won't listen to anything you say, and he won't stop either, there is no escape no matter what. You are stuck here, your ankle or wrist huffed to a single old hospital bed in a small room, with barely any view from the half-boarded-up window.
💉 Pyramid Head’s inability to speak only adds to the terror. His lack of words means no explanations, no reasoning, and no warnings. When he approaches, the screech of his dragging blade across the floor is the only indication of his mood. Sometimes, it feels almost as though he waits for you to speak just so he can disregard it.
💉 his actions are always harsh, whether he’s feeding you scraps, dragging you back to the bed after the 100th failed escape attempt, or simply looming over you, his grip like iron shackles. You’ll leave with bruises if you’re lucky.
💉 Over time, you begin to lose hope of escape. You might start rationalizing his behavior, attempting to please him, or convincing yourself this is some form of warped survival tactic. Even when you give in, though, his intensity never wavers—he is relentless, because that’s his nature.
💉 If he ever shows mercy, it’s indirect. Perhaps he doesn’t chain you as tightly one day or leaves the room for longer than usual. Even these moments feel more like calculated psychological games than genuine kindness, designed to keep you questioning his intentions and your sanity.
💉 You aren’t just cuffed to the bed; you’re often restrained in ways that leave your wrists, ankles, or even neck raw and bleeding. He doesn’t care about the injuries he inflicts; your pain is secondary to keeping you exactly where he wants you.
Warnings: Non-Human Genitalia, Primal Sex & Rough Mating, Touch-Starvation, Dubious Consent/Coerced Consent, Breeding Kink Themes, and Reader Overstimulation.
Words: 23,902
Yautja x F!Reader|One-shot|
You hiked to escape the static.
The forest was supposed to quiet your head—the buzzing thoughts, the twitching hands, the bouncing legs. The chaos of your own brain. You rocked slightly on the mossy log beneath you, boots tapping rhythmically against the dirt, arms wrapped tight around your knees.
Focus. Breathe. Just—breathe.
You hummed, low, nearly under your breath, tapping the beat against your shins. Counting pine needles. Twigs. Rock. Mushroom. Mushroom. Pinecone.
And still, it never stopped.
That hum in your skull. That invisible thread pulling your attention in twenty directions at once. You hadn’t really slept. You forgot to eat. Your pack was half-assed, tossed together in a whirlwind of executive dysfunction and shame, but still— you were here. You did it. You escaped.
And something was watching you.
You stopped rocking.
Not the deer. Not the owls. This was something larger. Smarter.
You didn’t hear it. You felt it. And worse—you knew you were right.
“Fuck.”
Your voice was a whisper. Shaky. It came out before you could stop it.
Then came the silence. Not the kind you liked, the calm silence that let your brain breathe. No— this was a predator’s silence.
You stood. Rocked once. Twice. Your fingers fidgeted with the strap of your backpack, then froze.
And then the forest screamed.
A crackle above you. Then nothing.
And something shimmered in the branches. branches.
⸻
You ran.
You didn’t scream. Screaming would’ve wasted air. You knew better than that.
Twigs sliced your arms, your face. You tripped over roots, scrambled to your feet again. No time to think. Your brain couldn’t even process all the fear—just movement, noise, breathing, the pounding pounding pounding of your heart like a fucking drumbeat in your throat.
It moved like light. Not fast. Faster.
You caught a glimpse of it— a cloaked shape, bent and inhuman, slipping between trees. Heat. Metal. Dread.
You knew stories. Government experiments, black ops soldiers, mutants. But this? This wasn’t human.
You didn’t even make it to the edge of the clearing before it grabbed you.
It didn’t hurt you. Not yet.
You remembered screaming. You remembered claws. You remembered heat— so much heat— and a growl that made your skull vibrate from the inside out.
And then—
Dark.
⸻
You woke in metal.
Freezing metal. Blinding lights. And wrong air.
You screamed again. It didn’t matter this time.
You slammed yourself into the corner of the room, rocking violently, fingers knotted in your own hair, breath caught in your chest like barbed wire.
Focus. Focus. Ground.
Five things you can see: metal, vent, door, weird-ass wall panels, your knees.
Four things you can touch: your arm, your hair, the cold wall, your tears.
Three things you can hear: hum of machines, your own panting, heavy footsteps.
Two things you can smell: sweat. Something… metallic?
One thing you can taste: blood. Your lip. You bit it.
You were still fucking here.
And then the door opened.
⸻
It ducked through the doorframe like it was built for giants.
The Yautja.
Seven and a half feet of muscle, armor, and pure heat. You didn’t need to be told it was alien— it was too perfect. Its face looked like something from a nightmare: mandibles twitching, tusks gleaming, dreadlocks of black armor cables hanging down.
You wanted to puke. You rocked harder, your shoulder bumping the wall in fast, thudding motions. You couldn’t stop.
It stared.
It crouched. Still towering, still terrifying— but lower now. Watching you.
It clicked its tusks and pressed something on its wrist.
Then a voice came out. Not its voice.
“You are prey. No longer free.”
Fuck.
You flinched. “What the fuck do you want?!”
It tilted its head.
You didn’t think it understood.
Or maybe it did.
It reached for you.
You shrieked and curled tighter— but the grip wasn’t rough. It didn’t beat you. It didn’t drag you. It picked you up like something delicate, even as you kicked and screamed and bit.
Then, gently, it tossed you into something like a cage.
You slammed against the wall, still alive.
It stared a moment longer. Then left.
And you cried. Hard. Like a kid. Rocking, gagging, shaking.
You were prey.
⸻
Days passed…
You didn’t know how many. There was no time here. No sun. No moon. Only that low humming drone of engines and the brutal cold that made your bones ache.
Sometimes it brought you food. Slabs of raw meat. Chunks of warm, chewy protein.
You didn’t ask what kind…
Sometimes it watched you sleep.
You hated how used to it you were becoming. How your brain— the one that never stopped buzzing— started finding patterns in the ship. Counting floor tiles. Humming along with the engine. Tapping out morse code to yourself just to hear sound.
The worst part?
You started to feel safe.
From what, you didn’t know. Maybe from yourself.
⸻
It escalated.
It began with touches. Careful ones. It’d drag its claws down your arms. Over your belly. Across your throat.
It sniffed you when you rocked.
You should’ve hated it.
But… your skin lit up like fire where it touched. Every ADHD nerve ending, every hypersensitive part of your broken body went into overdrive.
Touch-starved. That’s what they called it.
You were a starving animal. And it fed you.
Sometimes it’d pin you. Just to feel you squirm. It never hurt you.
Until one day, it didn’t leave.
You were lying on the floor, shivering, naked beneath the thin blanket it gave you.
And you felt it approach.
Heavy. Hot. Growling.
Your thighs squeezed shut instinctively.
The Yautja knelt beside you, claws dragging along your jaw. One hand cupped your cheek. It rumbled.
“Mine.”
You didn’t move.
It kissed you— not with lips, but with mandibles, hot breath blasting over your face as its tongue licked up your neck.
Then, it mounted you.
⸻
It didn’t hurt.
It should’ve.
But it didn’t.
The Yautja’s cock was hot, ridged, larger than any human could take— and yet you did. Slowly. Moaning. Shaking. Twitching beneath it like a live wire as it claimed you.
It rutted you like a beast. No gentleness. Just claiming. Possession.
You were folded in half beneath it, pinned like prey, your thighs trembling with every thrust.
And you liked it.
You loved it.
You came so hard you screamed.
Your brain couldn’t process it. You rocked through your orgasm, legs kicking wildly, mouth open, head lolling side to side.
It didn’t stop.
It bred you like a thing.
And you came again.
⸻
Later, you cried.
You rocked and sobbed and curled into a ball, choking on your own shame.
It watched you.
You thought it would gloat. Or punish you. Or maybe even talk.
But instead…
It held you.
Your twitching body. Your fidgeting fingers. Your endless mouth.
It wrapped its massive arms around you and let you move.
And something in your brain clicked.
He liked your chaos.
No one ever had before.
⸻
You started talking to it.
All the time.
It didn’t always answer, but it listened. And more importantly, it watched. Fascinated. Curious.
It learned your rhythms. Your hums. Your stims.
It let you rock in its lap, even during mating.
And when it rutted you again—harder, deeper, more violent— it let you stim through it.
You moaned, babbled, sobbed, twitched.
And it kissed every single broken part of you.
⸻
You stopped asking to leave.
There was no before anymore.
Just now.
You. Him. The ship.
Your ruined brain.
His ruined world.
You were his trophy— but not just a kill. A kept thing. A loved thing. In his way.
And in your own twisted, spiraling, overwhelmed mind—you loved him too.
Do I know anything about the predator series? Not in the slightest. But god after watching killer of killers, Monsterfucker me came out and started rubbing her hands like a fly and thought what would it be like to a predator boyfriend (ya know if we’re lucky to be a mate to a predator) sooo may I request that? Obviously there’s hunting involved but with a twist hehe
I've always loved the Yautja, they're one of my favorite alien species. Especially loved them in Killer of Killers.
Ko-Fi | Rules | Fandoms and Characters | Commissions
A/N: My theory is that if they were real they would be too scared to visit us because we're too horny for them.
Your Yautja!boyfriend was hard before he even started hunting you down, the very idea of you being his willing prey and prize enough to excite him so much that you didn't know if it would be a problem for him to chase you
Before you started running your Yautja!boyfriend made it clear that he won't hold back, he will hunt you like means it
You ran from your Yautja!boyfriend like your life depended on it not because you were scared of him but because you wanted to give him a real challenge, not some easy trophy
Every time he got close you felt yourself growing wetter and you knew your Yautja!boyfriend knew it too, that he was just as horny as you were if not more because of his urge to capture and breed you
As you hide you try to get your heartbeat and breathing under control but every time you hear your Yautja!boyfriend getting closer you can't help but touching your pussy, being deliberately loud as you moan out and hear him make a deep growling noise in return
He doesn't appreciate you teasing him like this so your Yautja!boyfriend gets you running again by cornering you against a tree first and getting right in your face, his huge hands spreading your legs open, almost chuckling when you whine because he's not doing anything else right now, so you push him, or try to, and run once more
When your Yautja!boyfriend corners you again you fight back in his grip, you struggle, you punch and scratch and even stab him with a hunting knife only to have him pin you down, his cock twitching and leaking more and more with every attempt at your retaliation
Since he's so much bigger than you your Yautja!boyfriend wants you to be at least somewhat comfortable when taking his huge cock
Despite your Yautja!boyfriend trying his best to be careful you angle yourself above his cock, grinning as your pussy drips and coats it with your slick and urging him to inch his cock into your pussy, the structured girth stretching you to your limit
Knowing that he could handle you however he wanted, use you however you wanted, use your whenever you wanted, fuck you however he wanted fueled your love for your Yautja!boyfriend and how caring he actually was
Even in the thorns of his mating cycle your Yatuja!boyfriend kept your pleasure on the forefront of his mind, keeping you so tightly pressed against his body that with each one of his thrusts made your clit throb against his abs
Can't possibly get his whole cock inside you no matter how hard he batters at your wet pussyhole and it makes your Yautja!boyfriend frustrated
Won't warn you when he's about to come because your Yautja!boyfriend wants to surprise you with how much seed he's able to pump into your womb at once
Insistent on pushing his seed as deep into your pussy and having it stay there your Yautja!boyfriend fucks you through your orgasm, leaving you a shaking, almost limp, mess in his arms
Purring was about the only way to describe the noise coming from your Yautja!boyfriend in the aftermath of your mating
Y/n is the only legitimate daughter of Rhaenyra and Laenor Velaryon
Silver hair and purple eyes, she is a year younger than her brother Luke and and 2 years younger than Aemond.
A = Aftercare (What they're like after sex)
•Most people that knew Aemond would say he didn't have a caring bone in his body but that was untrue
•Aemond was very attentive after sex, he always cares for any aches and pains he's caused you and is also quick to ensure that you're cleaned up and comfortable, he loves snuggling you close to him every night
B = Body part (Their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner's)
•His favorite body part of his has to be his hands, he always takes every opportunity to touch any and all of your soft skin with his hands, fingers tracing you every chance he gets, especially in public, needing people to see his claim on you as if your huge wedding in front of the entire realm wasn't enough
•His favorite body part of yours is your breasts, for obvious reasons, but if he had to pick another it would have to be your lips, he loves kissing you, pulling you as close as he could and feeling your lips on his cheek or neck during every meeting or annoying family dinner
C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically... I'm a disgusting person)
•He insists on cumming inside of you every chance he gets. Every. Single. Time.
D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
•His dirty secret was one he shared with you upon your wedding, he confessed how in love with you he had been in your youth, he watched you very closely as children and at every family affair after you had moved from Kings Landing back to Dragonstone with your family
E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they're doing?)
•Aemond is not overly experienced, only having been with a women once before you when his older brother Aegon took him to a pleasure house upon his 13th birthday to "become a man"
•It was actually a very traumatic experience for him and he refused to do anything like that again
•His brother liked to tease him, acting as if Aemond had no sex drive because he didn't like to screw women in whore houses, however that couldn't be farther from the truth. Aemond was extremely horny, his sex drive was off the charts however he only wanted you and unlike Aegon he would never disrespect you or sully your marriage by cheating on you with anyone
F = Favorite Position (This goes without saying)
•Missionary. Aemond preferred to look into your eyes when he fucked you, he wanted to see the look on your face when he was pushing you over the edge, needed to watch your eyes roll into the back of your head when he made you cum
G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)
•While Aemond had his goofy moments very rarely, usually he was quite serious, determined to push you to the precipice over and over again
•He also had quite a few sweet and tender moments as well, always seeming to know when you needed him to be your loving, affectionate and gentle husband
H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)
•He doesn't have much body hair that's not on his head to be honest, and the patch he does have, you immediately notice isn't bad or unkept
I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect...)
•Aemond is very sweet to you from the first moment
•Everyone in the family, in Kings Landing, and honestly in the realm would and did believe that Aemond was a cruel, violent man, he came off unpleasant and unkind but when it came to you, the women he loves, the One-Eyed Prince was a gentle and loving man
•He made it clear from the first moment you found out your marriage had been arranged that he would never hurt you, never force you to do something you were uncomfortable with and never be unfaithful to you, it was something that truly shocked you as you expected to live your life with a cruel, violent man who delighted in humiliating and cheating on you much like his older brother but your husband was quick to quell your fears
J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)
•Masterbation was all Aemond had before you got married, he wasn't into one night stands or pleasure houses
•After you were married, while he would occasionally still Jack off, unless you were sick or in some kind of discomfort he didn't see the reason to do it while you were his wife, even your period didn't dissuade Aemond, he was borderline needy for you 24/7
K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)
•Breeding Kink- Aemond was obsessed with filling you with his cum, he loved cumming inside of you, not just because you loved it yourself and would often beg for it but because he was obsessed with the idea of filling you with his child. He wanted more than anything to see you round with his child, a child that no one would be able to question the validity of
•'Uncle' Kink- Aemond, though he was only 2 year older than you, was your mothers little brother and he enjoyed every time you called him that during sex
•Dragon Kink? (Idk what else to call it)- Aemond often took you flying on Vhagar, your dragon was one that hatched in your crib as a babe so it was too small currently for more than one rider but Vhagar was plenty big enough and once you were up in the air your husband enjoyed turning you around and making you ride him (all while safely tied to the saddle of course)
L = Location (Favorite places to do the deed)
•If not on dragon back then Aemond just preferred your bedroom. Upon the wedding you two had moved into a huge room with a giant balcony and he always seemed to find something new to bend you over or some new way to fuck you in the sun
M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)
•Aemond doesn't need much motivation, he's ready to go every time he sees you however every single time he sees you holding one of Aegon and Helaena's children he is instantly struck with the need to fill you with as much of his cum as he can
N = NO (Something they wouldn't do, turn offs)
•Choking, he doesn't like the idea of you not being able to breathe
•Anything that will cause you pain, specifically making you bleed or bruising your body- He loves biting you and leaving bruises and love bites on your chest, thighs and pussy, even on your butt where he's quite often given you a bite when you've been laying on your stomach, however he refuses to leave bruises on your neck and jaw where other people can see it as he doesn't want to make you look 'trashy', knowing how judgmental people are, but he also refused to hit you in any way, even spanking you and leaving marks on your butt. He spanked you once at your request and the sight of the bruises on your ass made him ill, he doesn't like the idea of hurting you in any way
O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)
•Any man in their right mind prefers receiving and Aemond is no exception, however he is one of the few men you know of who is willing to-let alone actually enjoys-eating you out
•Before your wedding day Aemond refused to sleep with you, however much to your surprise a few days before the wedding when you were on a picnic together in the garden he crawled under your skirt and sucked your clit between his lips, his tongue exploring your pussy. You had only ever heard about men doing this for a women and you knew most men didn't but there in the garden, 3 days before your wedding, hidden behind his dragon Vhagar, he laced his fingers with yours and ate you out until you came three separate times
P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)
•99% of the time Aemond is rough and fast paced though he does have the ability to be slow and tender when he knows it's what his Princess needs of him
Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)
•Aemond absolutely prefers to take his time with you however a quickie is often necessary, especially when your One-Eyed Prince is feeling particularly possessive which often happens when either Aegon is drunk and flirting with you which happens much too often, or when your brothers Jace and Luke rile your Prince up too much
R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)
•Aemond is not much of an exhibitionist, if he's fucking you outside where people could see it's at a time that he's 100% sure no one would even be there, namely someplace that Vhagar is close by and no one in their right mind would approach the massive nearly 200 year old female dragon
S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last...)
•Your first night of married life Aemond kept you up for hours, going at it 9 times, he has the stamina to go for quite some time though usually he takes pity on you at some point and allows you to sleep, sometimes even (with your permission) continuing to fuck you even after you've passed out
T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)
•He doesn't own toys, he doesn't need them and he ensures you have no need of them either
U = Unfair (How much they like to tease)
•He is rarely in the mood to tease you, he prefers to worship you and give you pleasure until you can take no more
•If he is in a teasing mood however it'll only last as long as it takes for you to beg, once you start begging he will give you anything you want
V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)
•He growls quite a lot, and snarls occasionally
•Apart from some animalistic sounds he doesn't make much noise at all, it's very rare you get a full moan out of him
W = Wild Card (Get a random Headcanon for the character of your choice)
•Your One-Eyed Prince had a fairly traumatic first sexual experience and while Aegon would say he had 'no reason to complain' and that 'every boy wishes he could have a first time like that' you knew it was something Aemond hated and that made him very uncomfortable to think and talk about
•He loves you very much and he loves fucking you but it took him a bit of time to truly get comfortable with you, letting go with you and being able to give you any amount of control took him a while and a lot of trust and you knew you would never take it for granted or abuse his trust in any way, unwilling to harm your husband-especially like that
X = X-Ray (Let's see what's going on in those pants, picture or words)
•Aemond isn't very thick but length wise he's just over 8 inches and can hit all the right places
Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)
•You made assumptions about Aemond just like everyone else did because of the fact that unlike his brother, he didn't come off as a horny asshole however you were WRONG
•Your wedding night proved to you that your husband was actually very horny, and could keep going for quite a while
•He was gentle your first time that night knowing that you were nervous and pure however after that first time neither of you could get enough of each other and you were incredibly surprised by how many times he was able to go again...(9 times through your wedding night)
Z = ZZZ (... how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
•Aemond is not very quick to sleep, though you often are yourself, he is quite fond of staying awake for a bit if not just because he wants to clean you up
•He enjoys staying awake for an extra half an hour just to watch you sleep for a while, he loves how tranquil you look especially on days where you've had a particularly stressful time, getting to watch that stress melt away as he fucks it out of you and then see how restful and peaceful you are when you dream is the highlight of his long, hard days-it makes him feel like a good husband being able to care for his wife as she needs of him
Imagine being a human warrior on Yautja Prime... this is one long ahh drabble...
Taken in by an elder female warrior, she vouched for you in order for yourself to be taken seriously. To not be chased out and killed or put in the arena for entertainment. She practically raised you, she's your mentor, someone you always felt you can rely on.
For the rest of the clan, you're kept at a distance. You still need to prove your worth.
There's this one male in particular that seems to utterly despise you. He's the most celebrated male in the clan, an attractive Big Game Hunter who hunts monsters far beyond human comprehension. He doesn't even waste his time hunting humans. To him, and most yautja, humans are ugly little creatures who can get creative and unfair out of nowhere. We're basically the equivalent of goblins to them.
You're no different to him. Your face is weird and just wrong, and you're far too small and soft to be a worthy adversary. Constantly trailing behind your master like a lost whelp. He'd rather keep his distance.
A prideful traditional yautja. Arrogant as the rest.
Yet, when a giant scorpion like beast strikes him with its poison tipped tail, he has no choice but to seek out your master for an antidote. After taking his trophy, of course. Yet your master is nowhere to be found. Only you reside in the cave.
He's half tempted to turn around and muscle out the poison. However, he decides this is an opportune moment to test your prowess. To see if you're worth being your master's pupil.
He'd rather that you weren't touching him. He's a vain creature, you see. A "you can look but don't touch" type of yautja. Why wouldn't he be? He's incredibly attractive by yautja standards. Honestly, attractive by human standards too, but it's best if you don't tell him that. Don't want to inflate his ego any further.
The softness of your skin... it's not the worst thing. He's certainly been in close contact with more disgusting things.
You cure him of his ailment. Quite quickly, too. It seems like you're improving your master's recipes...
...
Humans certainly are crafty.
Half a day passes, you're sitting by the fire inside your master's cave, stitching up a tapestry for her. You feel something heavy dumped on top of you in a heap. Soft, warm fur enveloping you. It's a pelt on some kind of great wolf-like creature. You certainly like pelts, having started your own small collection of prey you skinned yourself. You remember seeing this kind of pelt on someone before. You certainly remember eyeing a yautja who was wearing one, thinking about how you'd get your own like that.
Just who wore that cloak again? Wasn't it—
"A gratitude gift. Think nothing of it." He grumbled as he stalked away, you only caught a glimpse of his back when he turned around to return to camp.
Your master stares at the scene, a look in her eyes that seems to be a mix of endeared and amused. In a way that only older people can look at young couples people.
Several days pass, and yet he hasn't seen you in his "gratitude gift" yet. Which ticked him off. He spent all that time hunting down that creature, just to create a fur cloak with smaller proportions than he's used to. It was tedious. Troublesome. You didn't deserve the effort. He doesn't even know why he felt the need to make that for you. You don't even bother to wear it.
But on this particular day, it rains. A torrential downpour fitting for the harsh climates of Yautja Prime. He sees a flash of silvery white running around the camp as he prepares to hunt for rations for the clan. You're wearing his gratitude gift.
...
He's only admiring his handiwork. He did a fine job in creating a fur cloak to fit someone with smaller proportions.
In deep space, the space station called The Nautilus for its shape and size had just started the first interspecies Crew program involving humans. Humans were the most recent addition to the galactic stage. This crew was going to consist of an already established base yautja crew who had been flying cargo together for years. Picking up odd jobs when on long halls to keep the engines running and the crew fed. The only reason they even volunteered for this program is the substantial payout given to ships accepting human crew mates. Teams of 4 humans who had worked together previously were assigned to a crew together cause both the human and yautja governing bodies were worried about adding in just one human to the crew. As expected there were not many applicants to this program. The history of the two groups fighting definitely caused some attention. Especially not too far in the past yautja used to come down to earth to specifically hunt humans. But the program still had a few applicants. A small group of friends who had grown up on Earth together (a rare thing nowadays) and had joined a crew together decided it would be a fun experience to apply for the interspecies program.
They Joined a Yautja Crew on the ship called The Angler not knowing the hijinks and potential romances that awaited them...
authors note:
this is going to be a cute story that is a cross between Cowboy Beop and the Predator and alien movies. These are all my original characters and I hope you enjoy this story i will be linking any chapters written below this...
-Love Atlas Doll <3
Chapters
Alien encounter
We sat in the lobby of the interspecies communications office, waiting to be assigned to the Crew and ship we would be part
On the ship
Their ships where so much more intracate then any human ship any of us had ever been on. instead of straight edges and defined
Synopsis: Prince Aemond sets out to find a whore to warm his bed; he finds a virgin instead.
Warnings: Dub-Con, Oral Sex (f receiving), Mature, 18+, P in V Sex, Not Proof Read
Word Count: 3,345
Sequel: Prince's Whore
Strife, suffering, and sorrow are all the Prince now feel— perhaps even then. He could no longer stomach the tolls of the war that was reigning havoc on the lands of Westeros. He sought a moment of reprieve, solace in the arms of a lover that he could take into his bed. Harrenhall was bent to his will; everyone was taken and at his mercy. He had women in his grasp, serving girls and some highborn ladies, even a bastard of House Strong, yet as comely and shapely as they were, none were able to stir the need brewing deep inside him. He could not find the want to take them into his bed and warm his cock.
He was, for a moment, entranced by a witch who held the name Rivers. The sorceress tried to seduce him with her lingering glances and mysterious presence, and he was ready to give in, to take her to his bed, but he had caught her placing her spell upon him. Slipping a vial of an unknown substance into his wine, Aemond could not tolerate such acts. He invited her into his chambers, luring her in with the pretense that he had succumbed to her charms, and as she sank to her knees before him, his cock in her mouth, and he was on the verge of spilling his seed in her throat, he took a dagger and slit her throat— him coming undone as her lifeless body fell and her blood pooled onto the floor.
That sufficed the need in Aemond for a short moment, but just a few days later, he found himself in want of release again— something that would quench the ache in his loins and the fire in his veins. Not just a mouth around his cock but a cunt as well.
He blended into the night and reached town; slipping into a whore house, he heard a few of the soldiers muttering about. When he entered the establishment, nothing of note came into view. It was the same as any houses of pleasure he had stumbled upon during the night. He was in desperate need of company. Scattered around him were the perfumed bodies that masked the smell of vile scents wafted about the room. His eye searched for something that could possibly sedate his raging cock.
He peeled away his hood, uncaring that the whores and their patrons could see his silvery locks; surely they have more pleasing matters to attend to rather than his presence. As he announced himself, he was quickly approached by a rather well-dressed man who he supposed was the owner. “My prince, welcome… you honor us with your presence.” He bowed lowly, and Aemond simply scanned his eye about the room once more. Without another word, the owner snapped his finger, and Aemond saw some workers hastily running across the establishment, surely readying themselves for him.
Aemond was led deeper into the den of depravity and into a secluded room where a bed waited along with a line of whores on their knees, waiting for the prince to take his pick. Aemond still paid no mind to the owner as he tried to sell the girls. Aemond assessed each one of them, presenting him with their seductive gazes and trying to allure them with their smiles, pushing together their breasts in the hope that would press even further desire into the prince.
He sneered as he almost finished assessing the lines of girls, ready to demand the owner to present him with a new batch, but his gaze was then caught by a cowering figure. Her eyes were planted on the floor, and she had used her long, flowing hair to cover her body, trying to display at least one ounce of modesty.
Aemond strayed closer to you, his curiosity peaking. When the owner’s gaze noticed the prince had focused on you, he quickly stood by your side, who was kneeling at the end of the line. “A newcomer, my prince,” He said and forcefully yanked the back of your head in order to raise your face so the prince could see your features. “I think you would like her, my prince… the prettiest one we have.”
Aemond said no word nor made any reaction, only studying the way your lips quivered and your eyes pooled with tears as you tried to avoid his gaze. “If her face does not please you enough, I am inclined to tell you that she is a highborn lady snatched away from her traitorous lord father’s care at the start of the war,” He added in pride. It was most beneficial for his business to have an asset such as yourself. Pretty, filled with youth, and had the blood of nobles coursing through your veins.
Aemond blinked as he felt his cock strain further into his trousers. You were certainly far from his usual type, but only you had stirred such a need in him that he had not felt in many moons. “And if that still isn’t enough to please you, your highness… I shall as well inform you that she is a virgin. Untouched by any man… but I do warn you that may not be the case in a short while.” The owner heinously laughed. Aemond did not know how to take such facts. He was accustomed to experienced hands bringing him pleasure and comfort… but there was just something in your innocence that he found wholly more appealing.
He turned to the owner and gave a nod. You breathed sharply as the room quickly emptied out, leaving you alone in the presence of a cruel prince. You were still on your knees, and your gaze quickly panted themselves on the floor once more. Aemond placed his hood by a chair and assessed your trembling frame that still knelt on the cold floor. “What house do you come from?” He questioned and brought a chalice already filled with wine to his lips. He drank two sips from it, but you still have not answered his query. “Speak, girl. Are you a mute?” He questioned, stepping before you. “N— no… my prince,” You say, ever so silently. He reached to grab your face in his hands, his fingers squeezing your soft cheeks together, a horrified expression screaming in your eyes.
“What traitorous house do you come from?” He almost spat. “House… House C—Celtigar, your Highness,” You almost cried, and Aemond was silently surprised. The blood that coursed through your veins was not from any plain noble house; the blood in your veins was the blood of Old Valyria. “Hm,” Aemond hummed as his fingers that held your cheeks savored the way your soft flesh felt. “And how have they taken you?” He questioned and raised the cup of wine to his lips once more, waiting for your answer.
“I was to be sent to Essos, but they— they commandeered the ship and slain the captain, and I was— was sold off from one man to another.” You explained, your hands clenching at the sheer fabric they made you wear, the material so thin that it did nothing to hide your body.
You boldly raised your gaze at the prince, hoping to find at least one speck of empathy in his lone eye, but you paled further as you saw a sinister smirk rise to his lips. How fortunate was Aemond to stumbled to the whorehouse at this moment, having the pick of the litter. An overly pretty, untouched noblewoman is now kneeling before him; the gods seem to take pity on his needing state that had plagued him for moons that had left him restless and irritated. “Stand,” he commanded and finally let go of his hold on your cheeks. Watching as you slowly and wobbly obeyed and stood on your feet.
He raked his eye upon your body, from your pretty face to the apex of your neck to your breast that hid behind the curtain of your hair. His gaze continued to travel downward from the curves of your hips and waist to your sex that was hidden by a dark shadow and to your plush thighs— as he saw the limbs of lavish flesh, a deeper sense of lust overcame him. He placed the chalice down and stepped closer to you. Aemond’s smirk widened as he heard a whimper leave your lips and your eyes tightly closed as he tore away the sheer fabric they made you wear.
He threaded closer and brushed away the hair that covered your frame, feeling you shiver beneath his touch as his hand trailed to the small of your waist, then upward to your ample tit, your nipple pebbling beneath his cold and calloused touch. He lowered his head and placed it in the nook of your neck, inhaling your scent that was not riddled with the generic perfume that they bathed the whores with. Compared to them— you were a breath of fresh air.
You gasped and turned stiff as the prince, without warning, pushed you upon the silk-covered bed. You cowered towards the headboard, petrified at the sinister smirk on the prince’s lip, completely enjoying your fear. “I must admit… I’ve never fucked a virgin before,” He said lowly as he took off his tunic, and you looked away as you felt your cheeks heat. “I’ve always preferred my women to be ones with experience… but there is, I suppose, something appealing in being the one first to taint a maiden— perhaps that is why my brother could smell them from a mile away,” Aemond said, a bit amused as he now realized the reason for his brother’s preference of seeking out virgins to be brought to his bed.
Aemond undid his trousers, standing bare before you as you curled into a ball at the head of the bed. Aemond relished in your cry for help as he pulled you toward the edge of the bed— thrashing upon his hold. You feel your tears slip from your eyes as the prince spreads your legs, and your cunt is fully exposed before him. You inhaled a sharp breath as you felt his breath fanning your folds, assessing you. Aemond bore witness to the truth that you truly were a virgin, your maidenhead still intact and just waiting for him to be ruined.
He thought about how to proceed; usually, he would have a maiden on their knees or on her stomach and take her from behind— no tenderness or foreplay, simply taking what he wanted and be done with all the bother. But somehow, your cunt was calling for his lips. He never found the appeal of it, feasting on a cunt that had been used and abused by differing men, sullying himself with the taste of other men on the body of a woman. However, you were untouched, and Aemond indulged himself with an act he was rather more curious about.
You froze as you felt the prince’s fingers trace along the slit of your cunt, the sensation new and disturbing as no one had ever touched you in such a place before. You felt his hand press your fold together, his eye on every movement you made. Aemond marveled at your cunt, never truly assessing one before— he never thought a cunt could be so… captivating. When he ran his fingers in the middle of your slit again, he chuckled darkly as he felt wetness gathering in them; despite your reluctance and defiance, your cunt was begging to be touched. Aemond’s mouth salivated at the thought.
A gasp left your lips, and you tried to close your legs as you felt the prince’s tongue replace his finger and lick a clean stripe in the middle of your folds. Aemond could not help but moan at the taste of you, tart and sweet, and he began to wonder if this was how his depravity would begin, with a taste of a virginal whore.
You bit your tongue as you felt his lips latch on the sensitive pearl, his tongue darting out and licking you further, teasing your hole and bringing further wetness. “Stop acting so demure and coy; you enjoy this, do you not, my lady?” He menacingly said against you, refusing to let his lips stray away from the sweet nectar of your womanhood.
You shook your head and felt your tears fall further, but any denial you do did nothing to stop the arousal dripping from your cunt. Aemond chuckled and used his tongue to tease you further, slipping it into the void of pleasure.
You finally let out a moan, one that was unexpected, and you felt shame as you found pleasure in such actions. That spurred further determination in the prince, darting his tongue in and out of you, his fingers sinking into your plush thighs as he, too, was overwhelmed by the pleasure of feasting on your cunt. Your sensitive pearl rubbed itself against the high bridge of his nose, your blood alight, your skin glimmering with a thin sheet of sweat, and your body ready to succumb to pleasure. Aemond felt it too, that you were close to what he concluded to be the first climax of your life, your body agitated and uncertain, your moans wry and held fear. He was debating if he should let you come undone now or wait when until his cock was buried deep inside your cunt. He was straying towards the latter, but as the thought of tasting you further infiltrated his mind, the prince obliged you to reach your peak and taste your orgasm. Your uncertain moans turned loud and sure, and your hands instinctively clutched the silver locks of the prince’s hair as you came undone by his tongue.
Aemond hummed in content, feeling his cock weeping at the taste of you. “I’ve never thought a cunt could taste so delectable,” He mused and planted his weight on his knees, staring down at your bare, flushed body and your face that was still trying to comprehend your first taste of pleasure.
The prince did not give you much time to grasp what had happened as his rough hands found home on your waist, and his cock was aligned against your dripping entrance. Your pleasured-clad face morphed into one of pain as you felt his length penetrating your undefiled hole. It was mean and sadistic, but Aemond found pleasure in taking away your innocence. He was filled with further satisfaction as he glanced down and saw how his cock was tainted with red, your maidenhead taken by him.
“What lord will have you now, my lady? Now that you’re the prince’s whore?” He grunted as his cock was fully sheathed inside you, the tip of it brushing a spot he knew all too well. “Are those tears of pain or pleasure?” Aemond taunted as he bent down closer to your face, his fingers brushing away the salty water that spilled from your eyes. “If it is the former, I will try not to take it as an offense. There are worst fates than being my whore, my lady— just ask the girls that served my brother,” He smirked and kissed away your tears, his lips straying further to yours.
He never found much pleasure in the act; he would only sometimes oblige the old madame in his once-favored whorehouse with the act because she seemed quite keen on it, but he never liked the way she tasted on his tongue after. But you, gods, was it too much if he would say that just one taste of you has had him on the verge of addiction?
You took in sharp breaths of pain as the prince thrust into you; he was kind enough to slow down his movements, letting you accustom yourself to his length, but by the second, Aemond was growing impatient. His moves started to move at a faster, almost violent pace, ignoring your cries of pain as he was certain they would soon turn into cries of pleasure. He had never had a cunt as tight as yours before; he had never truly paid enough attention to every fluter, every clench, every movement of the woman he was fucking, but now he could not help but focus on anything that you did underneath him.
He savored every moan and sigh that left your lips, every line on your furrowed brows, every scratch of your nail on his back as you felt his length rutting inside you. Aemond let out a groan as the moons of need started to overwhelm him. He was close to the peak he desperately sought, but he was genteel enough to coax one out of you first; you were a noble lady; after all, it would be terribly rude of him to leave you need and unsatisfied.
Aemond straightened his back and felt his cock twitch as he saw the site of you laid before him, your legs on his shoulder, his fingers sinking on your soft thighs, and your tits bouncing at his every thrust. You watched through hazy and pleasured-filled eyes as the prince licked his thumb and placed it flat against your nubbin, and his other hand pressed down on your lower stomach and spurred you further into pleasure. Your lips spewed out his name as you came undone, and the prince was quick to follow you. Filling your cunt with his seed, and finally, Aemond felt relief and satisfaction over him.
The prince panted heavily as he tried to regain his thoughts; he removed his length from your cunt and felt a lazy grin come to his lips as he saw the essence of both of you spill from your hole. Through your haze, you did not expect the prince to dip down and capture your lips into a kiss once again; tongue sought entrance, and you could not find it in yourself to deny him.
Both of you panted as your lips parted. You stared into the unique lilac eye of the Targaryen prince and were soon overcome with the implications of what had just happened. Your cheeks further turned red as you avoided his gaze once more, ashamed at how you relished and had enjoyed being defiled by him.
Aemond smirked and collapsed atop of you, savoring the feel of your intertwined bodies for a moment. You just lay there beneath him, and somehow, that was enough for him. But as he felt your hands wrap around him and your hand went to comb through his hair, he let out a further satisfied sigh at the feeling of comfort he never thought he could find in another.
It did not take long before Aemond had drifted into slumber. The cacophony of his release, fatigue, and you lulled him into a deep yet quick slumber. When he woke, he found you asleep beath him as well, looking so peaceful with your tear-stained cheeks and plush parted lips. Aemond delicately removed himself from you and silently walked out of the room.
When you woke, you found a pouch filled with coins by your side and the distant sound of moans and footsteps approaching. You raised the sheet of the bed to cover your naked frame as the curtain was lifted, revealing the silver prince. You stared in confusion as he tossed the dress you wore when you were abducted on the bed. “Get dressed,” You could only stare at him in further confusion, your limbs refusing to move.
Aemond smirked as the fear returned in your eyes. He was halfway through his return to Harrenhall, but the thought of you haunted him. He finally found the release he sought, and it would be foolish of him to let it wander free. Aemond was a selfish man. He could not oblige the others and let them have a taste of the pleasure that only you could present.
“Get dressed. I have brought you from your master. You’re all mine now, my lady.”
simon riley who loves seeing all the little outfits his girlfriend dresses up in. whether it’s a pair of jeans and a jumper, one of those cute sun dresses or even those stupid pair of dinosaur overalls that her students love so much.
simon riley who loves to watch his girlfriend get ready for work. watching her do her makeup, put her hair up and even helping her pick what to wear.
simon riley who loves the art work his girlfriend brings home from her students. who loves them more than she does sometimes. who melts every time one of the write ‘mr. simon’ above a small stick figure next to another one that has his girlfriend’s name above it.
simon riley who gets videos from his girlfriend while deployed. most of the videos being her saying she loves him but some of them include the preschoolers telling him to be safe.
simon riley who retires from an injury. who can’t stay still so he ends up in his girlfriends classroom for the first time. who ends up sitting with the kids, reading them a book about a military dog.
simon riley who by the end of the week has been to the class everyday. even bringing Riley in for the kids to meet.
simon riley who by the end of the week decides he wants kids.
more of the little freak that is neighbor!ghost. ಇ.
cw: lactophilia aka breast feeding kink. mdni. it really is just simon sucking the milk out because he's weird when he's pining and too much is never too much.
You knocked on Simon's heavy door, fully expecting him to be out, but to your surprise he was home, dressed in lounge wear. "Hey." You smiled, "Hi." He said, partially confused as to why you were standing outside his door this late at night. "Are you a'right?" His brows furrowed. "Yeah, I'm fine." You half lied, Simon nodded sensing something was still wrong.
"You don't look fine." He chuckled, leaning on the door frame. "It's just, you know how I breast feed." You began, "I'm aware." he cut you off, ears immediately perking up. "And you know how we did the thing, or how you did the thing..." You went on feeling more and more embarrassed. You two have been having casual sex for a couple of months now. Both deciding to not mention the boob thing.
You can admit when Simon's away you touch yourself to the thought of his lips wrapped around your sensitive nipples. It felt good, but it was something you guys did while drunk. And to your sober mind, asking for a re-do of than night is like walking barefoot on a pile of legos. Now standing on his door step rocking side to side, stumbling to get these ego shattering words out, you'd rather kneel instead of walk on legos. "My milk duct is blocked." You said finally. Simon raised his brows, "So what does that mean?" You mentally face palmed yourself, 'of course he's going to be clueless,' you thought. "I was wondering if you could, help me out a bit." You winced, your words bouncing off the complex walls. Simon made an 'o' face, realizing what was being asked. "Yeah, of course." He said softly, trying to mask his excitement.
Simon watched you lift your shirt exposing the swell of your milk filled breast. His mouth watering when he sees how plush they've gotten, your face twisted with pain when you remove your sports bra. He cringed noticing the indent left on your shoulder from the strap being too tight. Picking up on his concern you laugh quietly, "the tightness helps, don't worry it's old." Simon nodded, too afraid to open his mouth, worried drool would slip out."You can come lay down." You say softly, and he does.
Laying next to you on the bed, Simon didn't know where to start or what to do. Your bare chest right infront of his face, it's not like he hasn't seen it before. He's seen everything. Something about this felt intimate. Like he shouldn't be here. But you asked him too, and he would do anything for you. "It's my right one." You smile awkwardly, hissing when he grabs it too harshly. "Softer." You place your hand on his, "It's sore." you mention, calming when he loosens his grip. "So I just suck?" He swallows, You nod, your eyes fluttering shut mentally preparing for whats about to happen.
When he latches you wince, about to push his head away when the pain starts to ease. "That feels good." You mumble, eyelids heavy with sleep. He pulls away, "Do I stop?" You shake your head no, the pain not completely gone. You ran your hands over his hair, pushing the cropped cut back to look at his eyes and eyebrows. "I like your eyes." You say and he hums, pulling back with a pop to kiss the valley between your boobs. "What about this one?" He looks at you with concerned eyes, "You can do that one if you want." You played with his ears, watching him suck.
Growing tired, you tell him to stop. "You sure?" he cocked his brow. "Mhm." You hummed, pulling your t-shirt back on. "You can stay." and he did, on top of you snoring loudly, possibly waking the baby up.
he just wants a fine breastfeeding babe. is that too much to ask?!
After a long day at work, you made your way back home. If you hadn't been so tired, you would have probably taken more notice of the multiple police cars around your building, or the fact that the parking lot was empty.
But you didn't.
And once you had parked the car, you walked up to the elevator... only to be met by four uniformed military men looking at you like you just discovered the moon.
