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#dark neteyam x reader
wheneclipsefalls · 15 days
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Little Gift- Tremble
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Pairing: Soft Dark Neteyam x Fem Human Reader
Little Gift Masterlist
Beautiful adult Neteyam pic by @cinetrix2
Summary: This is your last chance to run.
Warnings: aged up Neteyam, NSFW minors do not interact, dark Neteyam, NONCON/DUBCON, spanking, dirty talk, punishment, size difference, etc.
A/N: This one took a little longer than intended with all the life stuff going on, but yay it's here. Also, migt have gotten a little carried away with this part.
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The outpost feels like a relic of a different time. One that you have only heard of in stories, but now seeing those worn down bunk beds and the corner of a room that Spider calls his own, it doesn’t feel as glorious. The worst part, however, is how naked you feel around other humans. It’s only a slight comfort that Spider is wearing Na’vi apparel too. 
“Oh and yeah and this is a spear I made in Awalatuu.” Spider says. “But maybe let’s move it out of the way.” He gives an awkward chuckle but it’s obvious that his only concern is you suddenly deciding to use it against him. 
Your arrival at the outpost had been anything but graceful. In hindsight you would have preferred to meet these people face to face instead of over Neteyam’s shoulder. 
“If you want we can uh….watch a movie. Oh yeah I bet I could swipe Norm’s Star Wars collection.” 
You don’t return the smile he gives you, too busy awkwardly sitting on his bed while pouting. You never thought it would feel strange to be back in a place like this but after being around the Na’vi for the past week, the outpost feels like walking into a rundown dollhouse. Everything is your size and nothing is as beautifully crafted as Neteyam’s kelku. 
The awkward silence is slightly painful but you can’t find it within yourself to feel bad for Spider. Not when he hasn’t shown even a morsel of sympathy for your situation. Your own kind and not even they find it important to get you out of here. Not that they could anyways. No doubt Neteyam would view such actions as a betrayal. 
“He wouldn’t let you come along, huh?” You finally ask. 
Spider stops digging through the worn down hard drives. 
“Who?” 
“Neteyam. Didn’t want you coming to see the RDA off either?” 
Spider scoffs at the, leaving the tech behind to cross the small room. 
“I wouldn’t say that. I’m not the one he’s worried about getting into trouble.” 
Spider may not have heightened senses like the Na’vi but you worry that he sees the way your hands ball around the thin blankets.
“So Lo’ak handed the role of babysitter off to you somehow.” You lean back against the cold wall, trying to appear bored by the conversation. 
“Just for today. He was clear that I would only be a substitute.” 
Your brows furrow at that. Maybe Lo’ak doesn’t mind watching over you as much as he lets on. Then again Lo’ak never fails to find your company amusing, and for all the wrong reasons. Some days you wonder if Neteyam would really be cross with you for slapping his brother across the face. Maybe if you batted your lashes and played it off as self defense….
“Well I’m sorry you can’t be there.” 
It’s Spider’s turn to look confused. 
“Why?” 
“Colonel Quaritch is your dad, isn’t he?” 
“That asshole is nothing close to a father.” Spider’s jaw clenches, posturing already shifting to loom over you. He may be human but his six foot frame of striped muscle greatly outweighs your own. 
“Oh trust me, I know. Quaritch has been nothing but a tyrant my entire life. I honestly don’t know how he managed to get back into General Ardmore’s good graces after half the stunts he has pulled. That’s why I was excited for today. Finally see that bastard put in his place.” Spider watches you closely. In some ways it feels like all he is missing he ears and tail of a Na’vi.
“Thought maybe you would want to see that too.” 
You know a good deal about Spider Soccoro. He is a story that is often shared among the recombinants but never in Quaritch’s presence. Many tales have been told of the feral stripped boy that was more trouble than worth. You wonder if the stories would have been different if he hadn’t chosen the Sullys in the end. Still, even with their biased filters you know that they put Spider through hell. 
Kidnapping is traumatic enough without having to watch islands burn and friends cry for justice. 
“I don’t care what happens to that bastard.” Spider huffs before promptly turning around and fishing through the hard drives once more. You’ve killed the already strained mood. 
“Well then you’re a better person than me. Good for you.” Spider doesn’t answer but you can tell he is listening. 
A bitter laugh escapes you. “Hell, I’ve only had to put up with him from a distance and I would ring his neck myself if given the chance.” 
Spider’s fingers fiddle with a blue hard drive, eyes staring down thoughtfully. 
“But I guess I should trust Neteyam to give him what he deserves. Watch that monster tuck his tail and accept his failure for what it is.”  It’s the one cause you consider Neteyam and yourself on the same side of. 
Leaning back, you prop your feet up onto the creaky mattress. 
“Yeah.” He says shortly. 
“Ugh don’t get me started on Lyle though-”
“What are you trying to do?” Spider springs to his feet, glaring daggers down at you. 
“What do-”
“Do you think I’m really that stupid? Neteyam told me you would do this. Trying to spin a story that would allow you to escape.” 
You swallow the lump in your throat. You’re startled by the outburst to say the least but at this point there is nothing to lose. This man you only met fifteen minutes ago is the difference between spending the rest of your days here and returning back to Earth. Neteyam’s punishments are far from being enough to deter you from taking this chance. 
“I’m sorry I wasn’t trying to-”
“Would it kill you to just stay out of trouble for this one day? For my sake?” The look he gives you is anything but tender in comparison to his words. 
The bitter taste of impending failure is already settling in. You can already feel the immense weight of this dread and it springs you into action. This can’t be the end. 
It won’t be. 
“Can you really blame me though? For wanting to say goodbye to everything and everyone I have ever known?” 
Spider goes quiet, hazel eyes suddenly avoiding your own gaze. 
“Believe whatever you want but the fact is this day will never repeat. This is literal history and…” You voice quivers, blunt teeth sinking into your bottom lip in restraint. The last barrier to holding the words back. “The last glimpse at my old life.” 
You don’t allow the gravity of those whispered words to plant themselves. This is all a ruse after all. Just enough sadness to get Spider to cooperate and yet saying it out loud feels like tying an anchor to your ankle. Truly realizing how stuck you may be from here on out. 
Spider doesn’t say anything for a long while. Neither of you look at each other, letting the silence sizzle between you. 
And then finally….
“We have to be quick.”
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“And no touching anything. I mean it, shit out here can be extremely poisonous.” Spider rattles on, listing yet another rule to follow as the two of you venture through the thick terrain. You roll your eyes. You may not be a match for the creatures of Pandora physically but you’ve studied enough to understand what to stay away from.
“We’re there for five minutes tops, got it?” Spider says as he pushes a hanging branch out of your path. 
“Yes sir.” You salute him playfully. Now that you are less than a mile away from Bridgehead a certain giddiness begins to take over. It swirls together with your nerves and apprehension but it doesn’t deter you. This is the closest you have been to freedom in a week. 
Eywa’s mightiest creatures could not keep you from your goal. 
Years down the road when you wake up from kyro this will all be some awful dream that embeds itself into your revenge arch. Starting with Miles Quaritch of course. 
“I’m being serious. Neteyam will kill me if he sees you out here. I’m sticking my neck out for you.” 
“It will be worth it.” You say simply, a skip in your step when you recognize the familiar path that leads back to Bridgehead. This the same one you had carved deeper with every trip you had taken to your oasis. Looking back there is nothing more you regret but the sight of it still makes you smile. 
Spider never stops his stern rambling. Despite the fact that he is built like a Greek God, his speeches do little to intimidate you. Not when you’re used to nine feet of solid muscle and sharp canines. 
There is a bank that overhangs Bridgehead. A spot that Spider deems the perfect lookout for the two of you. You consider trying to convince him to get the two of you closer. After all, what good is a farewell that can’t be heard? Truth is, there really aren’t many people you would bother trying to say goodbye to. Jeremy moved on from you months ago, you have very little friends outside of that and what little you did have can be nothing but traitors by letting you get offered up without complaint. 
It feels like a risky move, however. Spider is sure to catch wind of your deception at the first hints of you disobeying.
“Here,” Spider mutters, suddenly pulling your arm so you stand directly in front of him. This leaves you sandwiched between the cliff’s edge and Spider’s tall frame. 
“Hey!” You snip at him, ripping your arm from his hold. 
“This way I can keep a close eye on you.” He smirks, hands resting confidently on his hips because he knows as well as you that his physical prowess greatly outweighs your own. It’s clear his trust is far from being earned. 
“Well do you have to breathe down my neck? Christ! I could use some space.” 
“No chance.” Spider responds shortly but his eyes are already scanning the crowd of RDA members below. 
“Neteyam doesn’t really take kindly to others sniffing around me.” 
You hate to play that card but it seems to be the only one you have in your deck and if you have any chance of getting out of here, Spider can’t be pressed up against you. A harsh glare is thrown down at you but with knitted brows and a fierce frown, the male takes a few steps back. It isn’t much, surely his presence will still be your first obstacle, but it’s a start. 
Every minute that passes by feels like torture. You watch as palettes of heavy equipment and artillery are rolled along the concrete with Na’vi supervising. Each one packed away is a signal of passing time, another stream of sand that falls through your hourglass of opportunity. The real nerves, however, kick in when the line of RDA members are escorted onto the ship. 
How long is it going to take them to load everyone?
How long until your hopes are dashed?
You spot Neteyam taking his place at the head. He is dressed up in his traditional Olo’eyktan gear completely with a feathered mantle and oval forehead jewelry, but this time he holds a gun. He holds it with confidence, finger strategically placed over the barrel and ready to strike at a moment’s notice. His golden eyes spark today like fire. Even from your lookout spot from above, you can feel that darting heat. 
You pray that they never fall on you again. 
Spider shifts over your shoulder suddenly, blonde dreads ticking your neck. You scramble out of his space but instead of jerking you into place as you expect, he takes your spot at the front. Brows knitting together, you watch him carefully as he crawls forward. 
Finally you spot what has captured his undivided attention. 
Colonel Miles Quaritch sternly leads his band of mutants through the crowd. They tower so high over the rest of the Sky People the sight is almost comedic. However, Spider is doing anything but laughing. His mask fogs up as he watches the scene with intensity. 
It’s like he is dead to the world, eyes trained on the man that has been anything but a father to him. 
You expect him to cheer, snarl, anything that shouts of victory. It was promises of seeing karma after all that had bought you this outing but Spider is silent and still. And then there is something else that flashes over his demeanor, a pang of emotion that is hard for you to place. 
Pain?
Hatred? 
Guilt? 
This swirl of tangled feelings is confusing.
Perhaps there is still so much more to learn about Spider Socorro. 
Regardless, this is your chance and you plan to take it. Tension bleeding into the moment you watch Spider diligently while beginning to back away. It feels as if the world’s ambience has been muffled into background noise and the only sound breaking through is the obnoxious puff of each breath through your mask. Neteyam hadn’t given you the serum shot this morning, assuming you would be spending the whole day in the outpost. Now, however, you wish he had. 
Spider is so enveloped in the moment, however, that he gives no recognition of the sound or even branch you clumsily snap when backing down from the cliff’s edge. 
There is no telling how long this trance will last or at what point you will be out of ear shot so you risk it all. 
Bare feet tingling in protest, you race across the forest floor. There’s no sign of an easy and stealthy way down into Bridgehead. Going back down your normal path would risk Spider spotting you race by. That’s not an option but neither is falling to your death. On the east side the cliff shallows out into a grassy hill. If you’re lucky enough you might just be able to creep down it and remain hidden beneath the heavy greenery. 
Upon reaching it, however, you step on loose dirt and the world rapidly spins around you. With neither a hint of grace or stealth you clumsily roll down the hill. Your muscles ache by the time you clunk to the bottom and you’re sure there are other injuries to be found. Adrenaline dulling the pain and panic, you dart to hide in the nearest bush instantly. 
The scene is so much louder now that you are up close. Heavy trucks make blaring beeping sounds while reversing and Na’vi freely let out loose cries of victory and foreign threats. The commotion is just enough to have your presence remain undetected. 
You don’t bank on that lasting for long though.
Your scanty traditional Na’vi attire is sure to draw attention. You need different clothes and you need it fast. Scaling around the outskirts of the chaos, you miraculously manage to make it to that familiar run down door. Sector two-your building. 
Paranoia constantly scraping at your attention, you barely let the room equalize before ripping your mask off. These hallways feel so different than you remember them. Perhaps it is the feel of the metal floors beneath bare feet or the lacking furniture and crowd. It sends a chill up your spine as you sprint towards your room. 
How much time do you have?
They can’t have loaded more than half of the crew by now.
And yet, the sight of deserted halls makes your feet slap against the floor faster. 
Get dressed. Immerse yourself in the crowd. Hide until take off is through and then find a kyro capsule.
You mentally check through this list. 
Piece of cake. 
Maybe saying it out loud would make it sound less like a fool’s hope. 
Fuck it. The odds don’t matter and neither do your nerves. This is a necessity, pure survival and that will be enough to keep you going. It will because it has to. 
Your feet slip across the laminated floor when you frantically scramble to go back the way you came. Two tall and ominous shadows wrap from around the opposite corner and you are afforded just enough time to dart behind a wall before Lyle and Z Dawg appear. 
“You’re an idiot.” She says. 
“Yeah yeah say whatever you want but don’t pretend like you wouldn’t rip someone in half for a Big Mac right now.” Lyle defends himself, their shadows now paint the dimly lit corridor, stretching closer and closer to your tucked away spot.
You could run, but these are recombinants. They would pick up the sound of your footsteps in an instant. The wind from your sprint would carry your scent. 
“Sure, but I asked what your first meal back on Earth would be, not what your guilty pleasure fast food order is.” 
“These savages can keep their overgrown weeded garden of a planet. I want some fucking chicken nuggets!” 
As their voices become louder it appears that running will be your only choice after all. 
“I don’t even know why I ask at this point.” She sighs and a short hiss echoes down the hallway. 
You swallow the lump in your throat, feet repositioning as you prepare yourself to run. If you were smart you would have already been halfway down the hallway at this point but some part of you refuses to move. It clings to hope foolishly. 
“Well I’m sure-”
“Shut up asshole. The comm.” Z Dawg hisses and they both turn silent, no doubt listening to the orders on the other end. 
Your hands are shaking now, that tremor traveling up your shoulders as you await their response. 
“Copy that.” Lyle says and then the sound of heavy boots recedes into the distance. 
You can hardly believe your luck. 
That dark cloud of dread ripples away and hope takes its place once more. Maybe you can pull this off after all. 
Your room is exactly as you left it. No one has bothered to pack up any of your things or even dispose of your half folded laundry. This tiny corner of a shared living space has been your own for your whole life, everything you have known. It feels so small now. 
Rifling through the laundry basket you find a loose green tee and a pair of  tan shorts. You originally had a whole outfit planned for this day, something comfortable but nice. Those garments are, however, still crumpled up on the ground. This will have to do. 
As you hastily slip them over the beaded jewelry and tewng you pray to whatever god will listen that this will be enough to keep you incognito. You are barely finished buttoning up the shorts when heavy footsteps ring down the hallway. 
Their echo is soft, no doubt still several halls away but they are progressively getting louder. Now is not the time to take any more risks. This room is tiny and already cramped with scattered junk. Hiding under your bed would not only be idiotic but near impossible with the way your creaky bed  swoopes so low to the ground. There is, however, an old built-in cabinet above that you’ve used to hold your clothes. 
It’s just barely big enough for you to squeeze into so with those footsteps getting louder and your own terror sky rocketing, you push everything out of it and shove your body into the metal space. The door has metal slots with just enough slant to allow your visual through it. 
Your clammy right hand presses over your mouth when the door to the room creaks open.
Neteyam strolls in leisurely, eyes sweeping over the cramped space with interest. With wide eyes and strangled lungs, you watch him prowl through the area slowly. He bends down to run his fingers over the rumbled sheets, the back of his hand lingers over your pillow case. 
He takes his time looking through the various knick knacks and cords littering your night stand. He doesn’t hesitate to ball the old picture of Jeremy into his fists. Its remains are tossed to the side without care. 
Did he toss the real Jeremy like that?
You make a vow to find him as soon as you make it on board. 
Assuming Neteyam hasn’t already hunted him down. 
You could look for whatever is left of Jeremy.
You can’t think about that now, though. Not as your heart is pounding against your ribs like a bird trying to escape a cage. Not when Neteyam lifts his mask for a sip of air as he plays with your tiny music box. 
He is gentle with all of your belongings, roaming through the area like a man that doesn’t have hundreds of Sky People to threaten off of his planet. Surely, he will have to leave soon. He’s just here out of curiosity, more of his stalker tendencies pushing him to invade your space. 
The music box looks like a Christmas ornament in his palm and you worry that he will accidently crush it. It was a pain in the ass to get and a possession you have always treasured because of that. Neteyam’s ears push forward when he finally figures out how to start the music and that delicate ballerina begins to twirl. 
“Maybe it’s all of your silly trinkets.” He breaks the silence, you startle slightly. He can’t be talking to you, you remind yourself. Neteyam thinks he is alone, just nosing through your old room as he thinks out loud. “Is that what you miss so much? What has you running off and acting naughty, little gift?” 
He’s bluffing. There is no way he could know you are here. Your scent has to be strong in the room but that’s to be expected since this was your living space. Ironically this should be the perfect place to hide away. 
“You know,” He starts, carefully placing the music box back down. “I was planning on letting you bring some of these funny things back to our kelku once you start behaving. A little incentive to be my good girl.” 
The knot in your throat is near impossible to gulp down and when you do, his ears twitch. You don’t want to believe it. How did he find you? You tug your legs closer to your chest as if you can contort yourself into a small enough ball that will magically disappear. 
“But it’s obvious now that you respond better to retribution than reward.” 
It’s a miracle that your lip doesn’t split from how hard your teeth press into it. Neteyam may not be able to track your scent here but the smell of blood would be a dead giveaway. All signs point to being caught but you aren’t ready to hand over the last shreds of hope yet. Neteyam doesn’t know about the cabinet. He’s bluffing about knowing you are here. No one has seen you. 
“We can revisit the idea of a reward system later, pet.” 
The muscles in your legs are cramping beyond relief, begging you to stretch out. You don’t heed these discomforts, too paralyzed by the proximity of your captor. Neteyam on the other hand appears deceivingly content and relaxed, rummaging through your things as if he has all the time in the world. 
He carefully opens your nightstand drawer and those hairless eyebrows raise immediately. The bras are tossed to the side with the same care as the picture but then tiny little lace fabric hangs from his fingers. It’s far from your greatest problem but your cheeks heat anyways when he carefully observes your light purple panties. 
Out of all the drawers to open it seems that Neteyam knows just the one to torment you with. 
“Then again,” The Olo’eyktan smirks. “These are quite cute.” And this time instead of inhaling from the respirator he soaks in the scent from the small fabric instead. Your thighs clench together. 
“Wouldn’t mind having my little tawtute model these for me.” He hums, while pulling out several more pairs. He tucks them away safely in a small pouch attached to his loincloth. “That is, once I finally get rid of this rebellious streak of yours.” 
You allow yourself a small sigh when Neteyam goes around to the other side of the bed, just enough distance for you to breathe properly. 
“Time to come out, little gift.” He squats down onto his haunches, prowling across the floor like a predator on track. He must be searching for you and if that is true then you may still have a chance yet. Neteyam may think you are in here but he doesn’t know where exactly. 
Thoughts race through your mind at a thousand miles per minute. They twist and twirl to find some way that you could get out of this situation unscathed. The doorway is visible through the slanted slits of the cupboard. With the proper footing you may be able to close that distance with a courageous leap. And maybe, just maybe that would be enough to catch Neteyam off guard and give you a head start. 
You make one fatal mistake, however. 
If there is one thing a good prey knows to do, it is to keep sight of their predator at all times. 
Your feet don’t even get the chance to hit the ground, instead dangling and thrashing once you are caught with a strong hold around your waist. Hoping is waning but disappointment sprouts into increased vigor as your nails digging into his arms and legs struggle to kick back at him. 
“YOU MOTHERFUCK-” Your cursing slings into a shriek when Neteyam grabs a fistful of your hair and uses it to strongly crane your head backwards. His golden eyes are dilated until only a thin rim of molten gold is visible. The weight of his angry gaze takes your breath away. 
“Enough.” He enunciates the word, like a drawn sword ready to slash. “Listen closely, pet.” The lump in your throat goes down with a strained gulp. “There is not an inch of this Sky Demon hell hole or corner of this planet that you can run to without being drawn back to me. You are mine and I’ve done well to mark my property.” The fingers intertwined in your hair tickle over the back of your neck, no doubt leaving the trail of his scent behind. “You reek of me.” 
Tears gather at the corner of your eyes and you flutter them closed to avoid his burning attention. 
“As you should.” His voice rumbles as nothing more than a growl against the nape of your neck. 
“I never asked for this!” Your fighting dimms down to nothing more than squirming as gritting the choked words out sucks your energy away. Before you can do anything to stop it, tears blaze trails down your cheeks. “Just let me go! Please!” 
“Quiet, pet.” 
Another yank to your hair and the words die on your lips. It’s clear now that the time for fun and games is over. Neteyam wastes no time in throwing you onto the creaky mattress and covering your body with his own until he becomes a shadow blocking out the fluorescent light above. His thighs straddle your waist, putting just enough weight down to keep you in place. 
“No more tears.” He sighs, with down turned lips, but doesn’t pause his bunching of your tee shirt. “It’s clear I’ve been spoiling you too much.” 
A broken grasp is pulled from your throat when he easily tears the shirt straight down the middle. You’re not sure what you are trying to accomplish as you swat at his working hands. The shirt was neither your favorite nor of great importance but you still try to stop the onslaught of ripping. 
Confused and overwhelmed you squirm as he rips it into wide ribbons of fabric and then without warning you are flipped onto your stomach. You scramble to crawl away but Neteyam’s plants a foot on your ass and that is unfortunately all it takes to pin you down. Your hands are snatched next, forced together behind your back as the ripped stripes of your own shirt are used as makeshift rope to tie your wrists together. 
Something about him using your own personal clothing to keep you bound for him has your legs kicking out fiercely. It won’t do much damage even if you manage to hit him, but there needs to be an outlet for your anger. You need to feel like there is still some wreckage for you to inflict. The last tiny shred of power that you cling to for dear life. 
Neteyam isn’t in the mood to put up with your outbursts. Much like a fresh kill from his hunting trips he keeps you pinned and makes quick work of binding you imobile. The action is so well rehearsed and instinctual in fact that he already moves on to his next task of destroying your shorts. 
Shrieks and small clawing fingers are simply background ambience for the Olo’eyktan as he works. Surprisingly the small tawtute sized Na’vi clothing is not exempt from the male’s destructive hands. They too become nothing more than rolling beads and scraps of fabric falling to the floor. 
Your string of bloody curses are only temporarily interrupted by your own gasp when Neteyam takes a seat on the bed and throws you over his knee in one swift move. Kicking is no longer an option for your rage when he swings one leg over both of yours. Blood rushes to your head but even dizziness can’t stop your violent outrage. 
However, it appears a cracking smack to your upturned ass can. 
The pain doesn’t ripple forward until a few moments after your shock has subsided. Neteyam has always had creative ways of punishing you but this is different. You’d figured that he would never lay a hand on you after all that he has droned on and on about how important it is to protect a fragile thing like you. 
But another hit accompanies the first and this time you can’t hold back your small squeak. 
“Just as I thought.” He spanks you again, his hand mercilessly hitting both cheeks with every strike. “You’ve been practically begging for a firmer hand.” The cry that the next rapid three slaps pull from you is one that you don’t recognize. 
“Pretty little things like you still struggle to remember their place.” 
“Stop! Stop!” You shriek, trapped legs still fruitlessly sprawling for escape. 
“Don’t worry, little gift.” He squeezes one of your pink cheeks after this last spank. “That’s what I am here for. I won’t let your silly little tawtute tendencies keep you away from me.” 
It doesn’t take long for the color of your backside to match your face as the blood drains to your head. Neteyam is persistent, hardly batting an eye at your cries and shrieks. From cursing to death threats, none of your spewed venom makes him flinch. If anything you manage to catch his small smirk when you twist to glare up at him. You don’t make that mistake again when you find this behavior only rewards you with condescending coos from the Na’vi. 
“That’s a good girl. Let all those nasty words go.” He purrs, heavy hand never letting up on your poor bottom. 
It’s this praise that has your mouth clamping shut. You hold back any and every sound you can as your ass takes a beating. Which is not a lot when the Na’vi male has unfathomable strength and your backside already feels like flames could erupt from it at any moment. 
“Oh pet, I’ve hardly even touched you and you’re already blushing so pretty for me.” Neteyam hums in delight, hand roaming over your burning ass like an art piece just waiting to be admired properly. 
Hardly even touched you?
Is this just his way of being an ass or are you truly that far from the finish line?
You jolt when one finger slips between the crack of your cheeks, teasing over your hole gently. A sound caught between a scream and whimper erupts from you without thought. Bound hands flatten and flail to cover the untouched area but Neteyam simply chuckles and lets his own hand retreat. 
“Mawey, tiyawn.” Neteyam pats your backside softly, almost in a casual reassuring manner. “Another day.” 
It’s hard to say what is more humiliating. Being bound and turned over the Olo’eyktan’s knee like a naughty child or the wetness trickling from your pussy at the feel of his teasing fingers in a place you’ve never dared let anyone else explore before. 
Pain is a great distraction from your humiliation. So much so that it eventually motivates you to dash pride to the side and begin your pleading. 
“A-ah Neteyam! I’m sorry! I’m sorry…eh-ah I-I’ll be good!” It’s not even clear what you are trying to say anymore. Your mouth runs on autopilot, throwing out any line of remorse in hopes of one doing the job. “I ngh-ah didn’t mean to! I won’t run! Can’t take anymo- ah! Neteyam!” 
He reigns his hits to warm the underside of your thighs too, moving between that vulnerable area and your ass in such an erratic way that it is impossible to anticipate where the next will land. 
Plea after plea is thrown out but resembles nothing more than garbled desperation, nothing that can pass as a full sentence.
However, one call catches his attention.
“Olo’eyktan please!” 
The sound of slapping skin stops. 
Tears continue to plunge down your cheeks even without the constant spanking, your ass burns and tingles in shock. The tuft of his tail poruses over your naked thighs, sending a sensation both painful and ticklish. 
“Repeat, pet.” 
“Wha-what?” You stammer, voice thick with tears. 
“What did you say?” That large hand comes down once more like a crack of lightning. 
“AH! Olo’eyktan O-Olo’eyktan please please please. No more no more!” 
He smooths over your knotted hair, pushing it away from your sweaty temple and tear stained face. It’s tempting to look away from his soft gaze but intuition tells you to let him see the trembling state he has left you in. Let him witness how pitiful and distraught a simple spanking has made you be. 
“I….I’m sorry, Olo’eyktan.” 
Neteyam smiles like one would at a lover, a tender pride lacing his lips. 
“You’re learning, pet.”
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Putting batteries in that small remote was a mistake. A ridiculous useless mistake that now leaves you standing on shaky legs. The pink vibrator that has resided in your nightstand drawer dutifully on hand for years is now the source of your torment. 
Well, maybe not the source per say. 
No, the true origin of this humiliation stares back at you with knowing eyes and swatting tail, his large hand making that tiny remote look like a children’s toy. The vibrator buzzes inside of you on the lowest setting, but that relief can only last for so long with the way Neteyam enjoys jumping between the different levels. 
Every last shredded piece of your Na’vi and human clothing lays back on the floor of your old bedroom. The only savior of your decency is Neteyam’s cloak that he had thrown around your shoulders. With the size difference this cloak acts more like a dress and therefore gives you more coverage than you’ve had in a week yet somehow leaves you feeling more vulnerable than ever before. Trembling fingers never stray from the seams of the cloak, keeping it wrapped around you tightly as the crowds of humans and Na’vi continue to pass you. 
Neteyam has left you with one of the other Na’vi warriors but never out of his sight. It’s a miracle that your hands were cut loose in the first place but perhaps that is another sick joke the Olo’eyktan plays on you. He knows that you won’t run. He knows you can’t run. His attention and promised consequences for misbehavior are more than enough to keep you tucked in his pocket. 
That and of course his control over the rippling vibrations that torture your pussy. 
The nearest warrior is sure to be noticing your frazzled state by now. At least he has the decency to hide his interest, unlike another Na’vi that watched from the sidelines. Lo’ak, leaned against one of the hoverships like it’s a random Tuesday afternoon, watches with a small smirk and perked ears. If Neteyam notices, he doesn’t seem to have a problem with it because Lo’ak is left unbothered in his ogling. 
The tempo increases, the vibrator now picking a pattern of random pulses that bash against your sweet spot. Bottom lip bleeding now from your biting, it’s a struggle to keep your moans at bay. With the heavy machinery moving and hundreds of Na’vi and humans passing surely there must be enough noise to block out any degrading sounds you make. But you can’t take that risk. You’ve made the mistake of underestimating the Na’vi’s enhanced hearing before and that is what has landed you here. 
Neteyam twirls the tiny remote between his fingers like a fidget toy as another Na’vi warrior comes to report. 
You start to commiserate the loss of that ridiculous human sized loincloth Neteyam made you because at least then there was some fabric barrier to hide your wetness. Now, the thick Pandoran air runs up the cloak and over your soaked thighs and cunt. It reminds you constantly how pathetic you have become as orgasm after orgasm has escaped your grip. Even worse it reminds you how easy it is to carry that aroused scent through the breeze for all Na’vi to detect. At that rate, worrying about your noises is the least of your concerns. 
Lo’ak reloads the machine gun with practiced hands, moving with muscle memory so he can continue to stare and send silent messages your way. No doubt he is theorizing on what exactly his brother has done to diminish you to such a state. His eyes dance with those ideas, the little quirk of his lips telling you just how creative and vial his thoughts have turned. 
Another level up and this time it is Neteyam’s eyes that have you squirming. Your impending orgasm coils tighter and tighter with every passing second and you're so desperate to find some way to release this energy that your bare feet begin fidgeting against the concrete. It’s almost like a little dance, one that has Lo’ak laughing under his breath. 
It stops.
You breathe. 
There is some sort of commotion off in the distance. Not one that you can truly pin down the source of but you do notice the way Neteyam nods as a Na’vi female says something to him. With a wave she is dismissed and then the Olo’eyktan saunters off. Although slightly worried over the trouble, you are grateful for the respite. 
And then a nightmare unfurls before your eyes.
Instead of marching to the issue, Neteyam takes a pit stop to converse with his younger brother. Lo’ak’s tail whips in the wind at whatever is whispered in his ear but the real horror comes when that traitor of a remote is handed over to the younger Sully male. 
You are seconds away from stomping over there and crushing that pink little weapon before the other male can wield it. However, your dutiful guard places a hand on your shoulder after just one step. His eyes remain locked forward but the warning is enough as his hand retreats. You are still being watched. 
With one last glance your way, Neteyam has the audacity to give you, his little pet, a warm smile before leaving you in the hands of his brother. 
Lo’ak swings the gun around to his back in favor of playing with his new toy. Every dark and viscous fiber left within you is channeled into the glare you give him. It should say everything that your lips can not.
Don’t you dare.
Don’t you fucking dare. 
Now would be a good time to look into Na’vi curses, anything you could betrix upon him for what he is about to do, because of course Lo’ak won’t back down. If anything that fire in your eyes lights his own delight and has him sitting down and bracing forward. Forearms resting on his thighs he clocks your every movement.
This is sure to be the best entertainment the bastard has had in a long time. 
He savors the passing moments of anticipation. Never backing down from the ultimate seething looks you give him. Finally a crash sounds and that distraction is right when Lo’ak sets the vibrator to high. From zero to one hundred, pleasure rackets through you like a shock wave. The force is so much that it temporarily makes you stumble on your feet. The other guard wordlessly steadies you back into place. 
Lo’ak’s grin is feral. 
This silent battle slips between your fingers so quickly it is hard to comprehend, because all that can register in your brain is how fast you are hurtling towards an orgasm. After Neteyam’s denial your body is high strung and ready to take any sensation as fuel to push you over the edge. Nails digging into the soft fabric of Neteyam’s cloak, pleasure rockets higher and higher until only the whites of your eyes are visible. 
Knees bowing inward, ecstasy is finally yours. 
There isn’t enough energy left to question why Lo’ak let you reach your high. Instead you focus on riding that wave while simultaneously keeping upright. 
That persistent buzzing against your sweet spot continues until your nerves are short circuiting. The pleasure turns to overstimulation and you give Lo’ak a look that alerts him of this change. 
His amusement tells you that he already knows your predicament but his thumb remains far from the off button. 
Pathetic noises now bubble up your throat without restraint as pleasure ebbs into pain. It switches back and forth until another release is on the verge of consuming your being. The guard next to you doesn’t say anything when he helps to sit on the cold ground. 
The second orgasm has a bitter taste to it but your greedy pussy clenches around the toy all the same. It’s almost too bad that Neteyam decided not to gag you because at least that would muffle your cries as you rock down onto the toy. Lo’ak gulps at the sight, pupils blown wide when the first glimmer of tears scrape down your cheeks.
Regardless, he shows no mercy as he takes in the show with undivided interest. 
Vaguely you register the bustle and commotion around you as different Na’vi and humans rush to and fro, giant machinery finally backing into place but they are only background noise to your third orgasm. 
Your body is caught between delight and despair with every passing second. When you are close to reaching your peak for the fourth time your body is resistant to get you there all the way. The intense buzzing in your pussy is driving you wild but still not enough to drag out another orgasm after being too overstimulated. Despite the soreness that emanates from your wrecked hole, your clit throbs in agony. Begging to be touched. To be licked. Pinched. Flicked. God, anything at this point.
Memories of Neteyam doing just that surface, pushing you closer and closer to another dumbing climax and yet only serve as a reminder of how you are not getting the treatment you so desperately need. Pride is dashed to the side, you’ll worry about the consequences of grinding onto the toy in public later. 
Lo’ak’s hands roughly brush over his inner thighs and it draws your attention. The taunt muscle and smooth skin of those thighs would surely brush over your intimate flesh so perfectly. He would probably help you too, hands clawing at your hips as they urge you back and forth over the area. Even more so, the younger brother would not be able to pass up the opportunity to show his power over the situation, muscles flexing to tease your clit oh so beautifully. 
You’re not sure when Lo’ak became telepathic but he grips his knees and gives you a look that says he knows every dark desire that plagues your brain. His nails press into that soft flesh and drag until there are pretty red marks left behind. If you crawled over there sweetly, would he let you ride? Maybe if you healed those red marks with open mouthed kisses and kitten licks. 
Unaroused you would be ashamed of this train of thought but she is so far gone now. 
The only thing your poor abused cunt is begging for was attention. Anything to get this awful mix of heaven and hell to bleed into euphoric release and rest. 
The only thing stopping you from reaching down and finishing the job yourself is the assurance that Lo’ak would snip all pleasure in a bud at the sight of any touching. 
The area has been cleared of invaders. Na’vi begin to make their way off to the hills before take off but you are none the wiser. Caught in your own little bubble you don’t even notice when a sudden shadow blocks out the sun. That is until, large warm hands slip under the cloak and skate over your spread legs. 
Such a simple touch has never made you whimper more. 
Neteyam’s accent is thicker now, words heavy enough to hardly understand the meaning as he coos at you. “There’s my sweet pet. Little slut just wants to come again, don’t you?”
His fingers force your legs to spread even wider. Lo’ak’s stares as if his glare could heat up enough to burn through that cloak. 
With such delicacy it makes you want to scream, Neteyam uses two fingers to part your pussy lips and expose your pulsing clit. The other hand slithers down to rest on your thigh as you try to buck against the air. 
“Come for your Olo’eyktan, pet,” He growls and with the other hand he begins delivering rapid little taps to your clit. It’s humiliating how tiny the gesture that puts you over the edge is but you paint the toy white regardless. 
When the vibrator finally takes a rest you are too far lost in your own little world. Neteyam swaddles you in the cloak and carries you in his arm as you bury into his chest. And conveniently, when you are tucked back in the forest there is no awareness left in you to recognize the sound of launching ships. 
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wheneclipsefalls · 2 months
Text
Little Gift- Feast
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Dark Adult Neteyam x Fem Human Reader
Adult Neteyam pic by @cinetrix2 <3
Last Part Masterlist AO3
Summary: Your stubborn attitude isn't getting you much. Or perhaps...too much
Warnings: dubcon/noncon read at your own risk, MDNI, kidnapping, oral, jealousy, possessive behavior, dom/sub dynamics, power imbalance, swearing, aged up characters, etc.
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Your one woman hunger strike is not going as planned.
Twenty six hours in and you are hungry.
So fucking hungry you are ready to bite off the hand of the next Na’vi to come into your space. Not that you would need to with the delicately cut berry spread before you. The same one that Neteyam had meticulously prepared that morning. Others may think of it as a sweet gesture but you see it for what it really is- a temptation. 
In the same way last night’s mysterious, but mouth watering, meat had been. The beast that Neteyam had hunted, cleaned, and prepared with his own hands. The aroma had been so intoxicating that you broke skin from biting your bottom lip as you stared down at your share. 
The first time you refused a meal you expected the Olo’eyktan to throw a fit, flip you over his knee, or even jam the food down your throat but he has done nothing of the sort. Instead, he revels in this little competition the two of you have. Because that’s what it is to him.
A game. 
Sitting beneath a low hanging tree as you watch him train warrior diligently, there is nothing to entertain yourself with but the food in front of you. 
This strange purple fruit in front of you has been cut down into smaller pieces. The inside looks similar to the videos you have seen of peaches and the juice runs down onto the leaf below as if it’s trying to seduce you into finally taking a bite.
Your stomach grumbles as if it’s tearing itself apart. 
Fuck, why did you choose to resist food of all things? 
The meals at Bridgehead were the furthest thing from a proper meal but you had always enjoyed scavenging out into the forest for various fruits and vegetables to spice it up. It’s one of the best parts of your day. And now that you’ve had a taste of the wonders the Na’vi can create with them, it feels like locking yourself out of heaven. 
Neteyam’s gaze is heavy upon you. 
Sending him a fierce glare you make a show of nudging the fruit away from you, even as your body screams at you to shove it down your throat. 
Neteyam tilts his head, glossy braids swingings over his shoulder as a crooked smirk twitches at his lips. He isn’t frustrated, and isn't deterred. If anything those lips curve as if they hide a secret you are not privy to. So confident he knows who will be winning this tug of war. 
You exhale a breath when he finally turns around to correct one warrior’s footwork. 
A thump sounds from your side and you almost let out a scream before you realize it is Lo’ak who has dropped down from a tree. With a sigh he comes to sit beside you. 
“Looks like fun, doesn’t it?” He gestures to the group ahead of you, eyes rolling as he looks at them in pity. 
“Go away, Lo’ak.” 
“Jeez what’s crawled down your loincloth?” 
You look at him in disbelief. You will never understand where Lo’ak find the audacity to poke fun at your imprisonment. 
“Besides Neteyam that is.” He chuckles and your cheeks heat instantly. 
“You pervert! Never in a million years-” 
“It’s not like I have to take his word for it either. You’re quite loud.” Lo’ak ignore your heated ears and agape mouth as he notices the cut up fruit before you. He reaches forward and plucks a piece with a delighted ‘ooh”. 
Shiny juice escapes the seam of his lips as he chews and it makes your own mouth water.
Suddenly a hand is yanking Lo’ak to stand with a fistful of braids. 
“What the hell?!”
“You skxawng! Those are not for you.” Neteyam hisses, releasing his brother with a huff. 
“Alright alright. Damn, I was just keeping her company.” Lo’ak mutters, arms crossing over his chest with a frown. “Besides, I hate to see food go to waste.” 
Their eyes lock as a silent line of communication strums between them. Eventually Lo’ak lets out an irritated sigh before nodding and jogging off into the treeline. Neteyam’s shoulder’s visibly relax, hands casually placed on those sinful hips as he looks down at you. 
“You should’ve let him eat it. I’m not hungry.” You lie confidently, jutting your chin up in pride. 
“Is that so, tiyawn?” 
His deep voice ripples through your body.
“Yes.” 
You go to give him a sneer, maybe even the middle finger, but looking up at him from this angle proves to be problematic. His loincloth has a bulge and it lights your curiosity. Despite all the vulnerable and exposed positions Neteyam has put you in you have yet to see what lies beneath that scrap of clothing. Averting your eyes doesn’t save you from witnessing the smirk that dances over her lips.
Stupid observant bastard. 
His shadow looms over you as you fiddle with the strings of your loincloth. And then his braids are tickling your neck. 
“Perhaps it’s not fruit you are hungry for.” That simmering whisper blossoms a blush once more but nothing in comparison to the one that emerges when  he grasps your small hand and places it along his inner thigh. 
He doesn’t let you pull away, not before you can feel the corded muscle and smooth skin. Not before your eyes cave into temptation and sneak a glance at the increasing size of that bulge. 
“I know your little body has been enjoying our time together but if you’re good, I’ll let you play with me too.” 
And then your fingers are traveling over the exposed skin until the silk fabric is beneath your tips. You can’t even look at him. You pray that this aversion will read as nothing more than pure revulsion, because you don’t know what will happen if he senses your underlying lust. 
You can feel him twitch under your palm. 
Eyes forced closed and heart racketing at your rib cage, it takes all your power to control the rise and fall of your chest. 
And then the heat is gone. Neteyam releases your wrists, stands up, and sends a dark smile over his shoulder before rejoining the group. You want nothing more than to hide your face in your hands and scream but that would only show him your hand. 
You need to be strong. Keep your mouth shut, fry his patience, and get the hell out of here. 
Lo’ak is right about the training. It’s undeniably brutal and strict. While you stare in awe at the rate the young warriors can scale trees and shoot a target, Neteyam shakes his head and sighs before correcting them. You’ve studied a bit of Na’vi throughout your life but there’s no desire to translate his strict reprimanding. 
You do, however, find it hard to keep your interest away from the various rippling muscles and shifting loincloths. You’re ovulating. You must be and if you were only in your bedroom back at Bridgehead you would actually be able to take some medication to tamper down this insufferable flood of hormones. 
Still, you are stuck here and a group of nine foot tall walls of muscle are fighting, wrestling, shooting, and inadvertently showing off their physical prowess with ease. You swallow a lump in your throat when one Na’vi male tackles another and you get a perfect view of his ass. 
Pandora is so hot.
So so incredibly hot and that has to be why you feel the temperatures rising along your cheeks. 
Neteyam’s back blocks the view, a stream of instruction flowing from his lips as the two struggle to get the upper hand. Your hungry eyes start to travel up his body instead but you tug them away. 
You’ll be on your deathbed before ever admitting to ogling these men but you’ll drink acid before letting Neteyam catch you ogling him. 
Another shorter male’s abdomen tightens as he pulls back an ax carefully. Sweat glimmers along his blue form as focused eyes narrow at the target. Within one powerful swing the ax is chucked from his grip and pins a leaf the size of your thumbnail to a tree. 
He sighs before reaching back to tie his hair. The stretch accentuates the contrast between his narrow waist and broad shoulders. And yet you catch yourself sneaking a look at Neteyam’s form. 
For comparison purposes only of course. 
It’s too risky though to notice the slope of his back or the way one strap of his loincloth has shifted dangerously low along one hip. Or note the way his dark stripes smoothly curve over and accentuate his v line. Because that is something you would never do. You would never look. Would never think about him outside of plans to escape. Never dream of his deep voice with that heavy accent or even think about how it sounds in his native tongue. And you most certainly would never anticipate the view of Neteyam between your thighs nightly. 
Suddenly the ax-throwing Na’vi has become boring so you veer the focus as far away from Neteyam as possible. 
You shift your body to your left, letting your hair create a curtain to block the view of Neteyam pulling back a bow. It takes a bit longer this time to immerse yourself in these next two who spar with long sticks. 
All at once your body is ripped from your spot, legs dangling and kicking as you are roughly set to stand. Neteyam’s arm snaps around your waist as he kneels behind you. 
“Do I need to put you in time out?” It’s not a joke. Not when his teeth are skimming dangerously closer over your ear. “I would be able to smell you halfway across the forest.” He growls. 
Your thighs press together subconsciously as embarrassment floods in. 
So maybe you had forgotten about the Na’vi advanced sense of smell. 
“Which I wouldn’t mind were it not for your eyes being trained on other men” The ground slips beneath you and suddenly Neteyam is throwing you over his shoulder. 
“Wait! Let me go!” You’re not even sure why you try at this point. It’s not like he has ever listened before. The hope of being heard dims even lower when you see his thrashing tail and feel his heavy footsteps as you're carried further into the forest. 
But dammit you are hungry and hot and your loincloth is stained with your arousal so you let your emotions bubble over. 
“You fucking brute! Put me down right now!” You scream, nails scratching harshly over his back. It doesn’t draw blood but wow those fading marks look so pretty over his blue skin. Not to mention the beauty of his ass swaying with every step. “I’m so sick of this shit!” 
Neteyam is quiet. 
So very quiet and it doesn’t sit right with you. 
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“Open.” He commands but you remain still.
Body frozen as you stand before him, his massive member at eye level. It’s almost as if your brain simply can not process the sight before you. The way his cock is so different from the ones you have encountered with its purplish blue hue, speckled glowing dots, and even the precum that shimmers in the fading light. Curiosity sparks once more and for a moment you consider reaching out to touch it. 
However, the real shock is the massive size difference. You are no virgin. Bridgehead does not have a plethora of great men but you’ve found partners in the past to satiate your needs. So standing here staring and blushing feels out of the norm but with the way Neteyam is hung, how can you not? 
Even at peak arousal, or what you hope is peak, it’s unable to sprout fully, the sheer weight dragging it to hang lower by his thighs. You’ve always assumed the Na’vi would be…bigger but this….you’d never imagined something like this. 
The idea of ever fitting it in your mouth let alone inside of you makes your stomach coil. 
Are all Na’vi males this way or is this something specific to Neteyam?
Something tells you that thanks to the Olo’eyktan you will never find out. 
“Open your mouth, tawtute.” His voice is sharp like a drawn dagger, slicing through the wind to threaten obedience. 
“B-but it….it won’t fit.” You try not to think about your choice of complaint. 
Not that you don’t want to.
Not that he shouldn’t make you.
No, you simply complain about the logistics. 
“You’ll learn, pet. Now open.” The nickname is anything but endearing coming from his lips now, honey eyes darkening as he stares down at you. This is retribution. 
Shaking like a leaf, your lips ever so slightly part. It appears Neteyam is tired of giving verbal commands when one large hand grips either side of your face, pressing to force your mouth open wider. 
“You won’t let me get any food past those pretty lips, fine. You will take my cock instead.” That growl reverberates through your body until it swirls into a low seated passion and desperation. Neteyam’s nostrils flare, soaking in the scent of your betraying body. 
To your surprise Neteyam doesn’t immediately choke you on it but instead guides your open mouth to his base. Prying your jaw open wider, your lips are smeared along the heated skin. Hesitantly your tongue flickers out. 
“That’s it, pet. Don’t be shy.” 
When your tongue smoothes out to drag along the length of him you remind yourself that this is something you are forced to do. For survival. For escape. 
And you prepare yourself to later bury the memory of your desire and curiosity in this moment. To forget how salty sweet his precum tastes as it dances along your tongue. To forget the way his pupils dilate as he purposefully paints your pillow lips with that glowing substance like it’s your own personal lip gloss. To forget the way his abs flex when the head of his cock is finally enveloped by your hot wet mouth. 
But most of all, you promise yourself that you will forget how gorgeous Neteyam looks from this angle with his silky braids hanging loosely and glowing eyes devouring you whole. 
The back of your throat is reached within record time. Your gag reflex immediately kicks in and Neteyam pulls out while cooing at you.
“Poor little pet. Not used to taking such a big cock, are you?” You take the condescending words without fight, trying to clear your throat and prepare for more. “But then again I’m sure Jeremy has never made you cum until you cry.” Neteyam smirks and your breathing halts.
You look up at him with wide eyes. 
Oh God, when did he find out about Jeremy? A dark twinkle shadows the Olo’eyktan’s demeanor, his upturned lips promising an evil fate to your old flame.  
“What di-”
“Down you go again, pet.” Neteyam interrupts, prying your mouth open once more and shoving himself inside harder this time. He doesn’t let up this time when you sputter and choke around him. “Relax that throat for me, tiyawn. I know this isn’t your first time doing this.” He chuckles. 
Reluctantly you force yourself to follow his instruction, urging your heart rate so slow as you breathe in through your nose. Inch by inch, he slides down your throat until all you can taste and feel is him. A tinge of soreness already sparks along your jaw but stern eyes whisper the consequences of letting your blunt teeth even close to him. 
A part of you yearns to get lost in the moment, let your arousal that has shamefully not disappeared since Neteyam’s confession take the wheel and give your mind a break. However, that is not the Olo’eyktan’s design. He means to drive a lesson home. 
“I was under the impression that you simply didn’t enjoy giving oral, not with the way your scent soured every time that pathetic man had you on your knees.” 
Your whimper of distress only turns into a hum that vibrates along him. Neteyam’s grins, toes digging into the earth below. 
“But now I see that is not the case.” His hips roll forward, hand crawling to cradle the back of your head. “Staining that little loincloth for me. You just needed the right man to fill that pretty mouth didn’t you?” 
Your protests are nothing more than high pitched whines as he picks up rhythm, only half of his cock fitting inside yet still more than enough to fill your throat. 
“No need to deny it, oeyӓ tiyawn. Your body has been loyal to me from the very beginning.” That hand fists into your hair, holding you down on his cock as tears gather over your eyes. “Even when your mind has a hard time catching up.” All sweetness dissipates from his voice, left only with a hard steel. 
“Like today for instance.” 
You suck in air as soon as your mouth is empty, coughing and crying as he keeps that grip in your hair. A firm yank has your neck straining to look up at him. 
“I thought you would know better, little gift.” 
You subconsciously grip his thighs in order to keep yourself standing upright.
“But it looks like I need to spell it out for you.” 
Suddenly your mouth is filled again but instead of waiting to let you suckle and explore, Neteyam immediately sets pace spearing down your throat. Nails digging into his toned thighs, you focus on keeping your breathing steady and relaxed. 
“Good pets do not stare at other men. They do not let them smell their arousal.” Neteyam grinds out, a groan lacing his words as you feel him twitch. Your throat convulses around him, the urge to breathe through your mouth ever increasing. “Because good pets know who they belong to.” 
The trembling in your legs skyrockets as your knees threaten to buckle. Suddenly Neteyam’s grip in your hair is not just there to keep you swallowing him down but also as an extra support. 
“Do you know who you belong to, little gift?” A shudder ripples over his toned body, balls drawing up tight. And yet he pauses, keeping you frozen but still stretched around him. 
He wants a response. 
Nodding doesn’t appear to cut it, not when he tacks on a “and who is that?”. 
You go to scoff at his persistence but it’s only another choked cough around him, tears spilling down your cheeks. He hips slant forward pressing himself even further down your throat until you are gagging. 
“Say it.” The Olo’eyktan demands. “Say my name.” 
He pulls out and airs hiccups through your lungs so fast you almost swoon backwards. But his name is still the first gasp to escape your lips. 
“Nete-..Neteyaaaam.” It’s come out as almost a complaint but the Olo’eyktan’s joy is not diminished. His tails coils and flickers at the sound of your wrecked voice. 
“Good girl.” That praise wraps around you, head lulling to rest against his palm. “Now come here and let me fuck your throat.” 
It shouldn’t turn you on. The crude words are the furthest thing from what you should want but Neteyam’s accented voice purrs them like a lullaby. So dark, smooth and alluring that you find your mouth opening on its own accord. 
Neteyam’s grins wider than the night that he first saw you tied up with that pretty bow. You push the implications of what you have just done to the back of your head.
Despite his satisfaction, Neteyam doesn’t take it easy on you. The length of him can never fully make it down your throat but that doesn’t stop him from trying. An obscene wet sound is made every time he thrusts back in and you can feel him shiver. 
“Aww so pretty like this tiyawn. Wish you could see yourself right now.” His head throws back for a second when your  airpipe contracts around him again. “Crying so sweetly for me.”
His gentle tone is a great contrast to the way his cock bullies itself into the tight space. So sweet in comparison to the way he fucks your throat like you’re his own personal fleshlight. 
“Maybe we will have to steal a mirror from Bridgehead soon. Let you see what a wrecked masterpiece you are.” 
Even as you struggle to breath and your throat aches, his dirty words burn the flames inside of you higher and higher. You will feel ashamed later, you know it, but for now you let him fill every crevice in your brain. It keeps the fear of Jeremy’s safety at bay. It keeps the reality of your situation from catching up with you. It keeps you as his pretty little pet that is doing oh such a good job. 
“Fuck! You feel so good around me, tiyawn. Good fucking girl!” Neteyam’s groan is gravely, muscles along his abdomen erratically flexing and you know what is coming before his warning ever reaches your ears. 
With a deep groan of your name, thick seed spurts down your throat. It’s too much to fully swallow but luckily Neteyam lets you off halfway through, the remnants painting your cheeks and lips. Your own thighs clench together as you watch him recover, his impressive physique inflating and deflating heavily with every breath. 
Your throat feels like sandpaper as you collapse against him, head nuzzled against his hip as you cling to his right thigh. Neteyam’s fingers fondly stroke through your tangled hair as he congratulates you on learning your lesson. 
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You almost bite his finger when the next piece of meat passes your lips but this time it is by accident. Your habit of grinding your teeth together when nearing climax is becoming a problem. Three massive fingers tease and massage at that spongy spot inside of you as you drool around Neteyam’s fingers. 
The Olo’eyktan chuckles and plucks another piece of meat to feed you. 
“Remember to chew.” He says with a smirk when his thumb flicks over your clit and you almost choke. 
Perched in his lap, smothering his fingers with your juices as he hand feeds you, there is surely not a better picture of obedience one could paint. 
A picture that Neteyam cherishes. 
But a memory you vow to forget. 
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I hope you enjoyed! Thank you all for your support and messages for this series especially! Hearing back from you all always makes me excited to write and update<3 Don't be afraid to let me know what you think
Taglist: @pandoraslxna @neteyamssyulang @tallulah477 @criticallybella @sullybrothersmate @lilghostiequinni @chershire23 @lala-1516 @teyamshuman @yawnetu @puddle-nerd @ratchetprime211 @avatargirly @chocolatechocobo91 @kariz-stark @bunnscoffe @avatarwifey @universal-s1ut @witchsprit @heart-an0n @riri-is-a-girlie @rivatar @minnory @ikeyniofthetayrangi @ilovehobi101 @spicymayyo @v4mp1rr3 @nilsavatar @bambithewriter @quicktosimp @itchaboi-itchyboy @thehoneymushroomhealer @ilytulipse @witchsprit @imwutim @crazy4books1 @thegirlwholoveslivesfanfiction @danniackerman @dayyzlol @justabite7 @krispyjellyfishkitty
Please let me know if I missed you or if you'd like to be removed from the list<3
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wheneclipsefalls · 2 months
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Little Gift Masterlist
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Pairing: Dark Adult Neteyam x Fem Human Reader
Summary: The RDA are forced to negotiate with a certain Olo'eyktan. Luckily, there is only one thing he wants.
PARTS
Introduction
Scramble
Feast
Tremble
More parts coming soon
Please remember to read the warnings at the beginning of each part
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wheneclipsefalls · 2 months
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Heyyy, im new to your perfil, and im sooo into Neteyam. I just finished reading " little Gift" and im so excited for part 2, any chances for it?
Yes absolutely! The next part is already in the works!
I'm so glad you like it, bby<3
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wheneclipsefalls · 2 months
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I loveeeed the latest chapter of little gift!! I can’t wait for more and to see where the journey goes 🥰
awww yay! Thank you, angel! I've been having way to much fun writing this naughty series;)
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wheneclipsefalls · 2 months
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Little Gift- Scramble
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Pairing: Adult Dark Neteyam x Human Fem Reader
Previous Part
Masterlist AO3
Gorgeous Adult Neteyam pic by @cinetrix2
Summary: It's time for you to understand the gravity of your situation.
Warnings: dubcon/non con, dark material read at your own risk MDNI, oral, explicit, alien x human, kidnapping, aged up Neteyam, aged up Lo'ak, slight degradation, angst, bondage, etc. (not exhaustive)
A/N: Can't thank you all enough for the support and buzz that this little series has gotten! Love you, pookies<3 Enjoy!
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“Don’t look down. Don’t look down.” You whisper shakily. 
Heights have never been your forte and neither has climbing but you are mere feet away from reaching where Neteyam has tied the knot to your leash. You can’t give up now. Your legs tremble and arms shake as you clamp around the tree trunk. 
It’s ok. Everything is ok. Worst case scenario you fall down and land back in the kelku.
That is, if you fall to the right.
The left on the other hand…
You make the mistake of glancing down to see the vast distance between you and the forest floor. It doesn’t help that the thick forest canopy obscures your vision, letting your imagination run wild in guessing how far down the ground really is. You rest your forehead against the trunk and shut your eyes. 
Breath in.
Breathe out. 
One move at a time. That’s all that matters. 
Finally wrangling the courage to climb further once more you carefully reach for the next branch and scoot yourself upwards. The thick bark scuffs your smooth skin and your hands are sure to already have blisters and slivers, but you are so close.
“Out of curiosity, if you somehow do manage to get that thing untied. What is your next move?”
You gasp, branch almost slipping from your grip in wake of being startled. 
“You’ve been alone for what? Thirty minutes? And you still haven’t made it up a few meters. How do you expect to scale down several stories before Neteyam returns?” Lo’ak crosses his arms, hip popped and eyebrows raised. 
“I…I was just…”
“No need to waste my time trying to suggest otherwise. Guess I shouldn’t be surprised. Neteyam did say you are quite the handful.” He sprawls across the kelku floor, arms folded back to keep him sitting upright while his legs spread leisurely. “Lucky me.” 
“You…you are staying?” You voice quivers as a cramp starts to tighten one calf. This idea is looking more ridiculous by the second. 
“Neteyam is convinced you need someone to check up on you while he is away. Hate to admit when he is right but then again here you are swinging over death in under an hour.” 
Your arms begin to shake as every muscle locks frozen in place. Lo’ak lounges as your head spins in every which direction. 
Instinct takes over before you can stop it and suddenly you are racing to reach for the next branch. Body practically flinging itself upwards, your ascent is messy and frantic. Your adrenaline is powered by one fact: you are running out of time. The RDA return home within a few days and Neteyam seldom leaves you alone.
So what if he sends his little brother to play babysitter?
It’s better odds than being smothered in the Olo’eyktan’s embrace all day. 
A small branch snaps beneath your right foot. Stomach lurching to your throat you prepare for the massive fall ahead. You catch only a few feet of air before crashing into a hard chest. Lo’ak chuckles at your shrieks as he tucks you under his arm and easily scales down the tree. 
He may have saved your life but you shoot him with a scathing look as he sets you down on the the woven floor. 
“You’re welcome.” He snorts, returning to his lounged position. 
The irony taste of blood erupts over your tongue when your teeth finally break skin. 
You want to hate him. You do hate him. He laughs and watches your nightmare with a half amused grin ,but you need to be smart. 
“Thank you.” You whisper. He simply shrugs and waves it off. “I’ve just been so scared.” This time you purposefully bite your bottom lip, looking up at him through thick lashes. It’s easy to let tears create a cloud over your eyes. “I want to go home.” 
His reaction is far from the one you hope. 
A harsh laugh rumbles in his chest as he shakes his head. 
“Oh yes it must be so hard to be away from those comforting steel walls and mushy frozen meals.” He scoffs as if it is the most ridiculous thing he has ever heard. It hurts and for some reason you feel the need to defend your desires. 
“I wasn’t talking about Bridgehead, asshole! Or have you forgotten they are returning to Earth within the week?”
“Cause that is so much better.” Lo’ak sneers. 
“You don’t know what you are talking about-”
“No you don’t know what you are talking about. What do you think is back on that dying planet? Maybe they’ve shown you some shiny pictures back in your steel cage but the reveal is deeply disappointing.” He rolls his eyes, hands reaching back to tie his hair. 
“How would you know? You’ve never been!”
“Yes and neither have you but unlike you I have reliable witnesses.” 
Your nails create half moons in your palm as they ball into fists. The heat from your cheeks has now traveled to the tips of your ears. Screw the size difference, you are ready to knock him on his ass. 
You can’t though and not just because your strength is no match for his own. Getting riled up by your captor’s brother is a waste of time and Neteyam never said when he would be back. Forcing your features to soften you left out a shaky sigh. 
“I don’t need you to understand but…what would it hurt to help me? You could tell him you found the kelku empty. That’s all I’m asking.” You shuffle onto your knees, swallowing your pride as you prepare to beg. 
“What would it hurt? A lot actually. Every minute he spends with you is another that I get him off my ass. Besides, when Neteyam isn’t happy no one is happy.” 
“He is Olo’eyktan! Half of the women in your village must be chasing him down. His fascination with me is sure to be replaced by another within the week.” You argue, fidgeting with the pink ribbon Neteyam had tied around your neck. The knot of the bow is extra tight this time, no doubt a ploy to get you to stop ripping it off. 
“Oh yes, six months of obsession gone in a week.” 
Your mouth runs dry. 
“Six months?” 
For the first time Lo’ak’s interest is peaked. His tail stills and large ears fold forward. 
“Oh, you have no idea what you have gotten yourself into, do you?”  He shakes his head, tongue clicking softly. “You poor thing,” he says but the words are anything but sympathetic. 
“Six months, how…. But I didn’t even….”
“Did you think that the RDA picked you from a lineup and Neteyam just happily handed over that unobtanium?” 
It sounds ridiculous coming from Lo’ak’s mouth now but what else were you meant to believe? You’ve never met Neteyam before. The entire situation has bizarre written all over it. What is one more offbeat detail?
“He’s been talking about you for months, tawtute. Been driving me crazy actually.” 
Unease sinks its claws into you. 
“From what I understand, he had your schedule down. Those little nature walks you take daily just outside the base? Did you really think a defenseless human like you would have survived Pandora’s forest for that long without a protector?” 
“He’s been watching me.” The thought slips from your lips without permission but Lo’ak nods anyways. 
The past few months replay in your mind’s eyes. All those times you had been ecstatic to have some time alone in the fresh air. Every little conversation you had with yourself as you walked, running through checklists and even giving yourself reassuring words after a hard day. How many of those times had he been there? 
Oh God, all those times the heat had been too much and you had gone skinny dipping!
Was that time ever sacred? Had he truly been watching from the sidelines this whole time with you none the wiser? And yet, that is the scariest realization. 
You had no idea.
It brings into focus the horrible juxtaposition between you two. 
He had watched you through the greenery easily while you had not a single inkling of being in another’s presence. And if Lo’ak’s words are anything to go off of, you too had been oblivious as he kept other predators at bay. 
No wonder he talks to you like a naive child. 
Your lungs seize, squeezing the air from them until it’s difficult to breathe. For a moment you look around for your mask, panicked as you assume that the serum for the day has somehow run out early. However one shaky breath in shows that this has nothing to do with carbon dioxide levels and everything to do with the panic that holds you hostage. 
Six months.
Six months! 
What had he seen? Was it only your walks through the forest or had there been more? How did you spark his interest in the first place? Among hundreds of soldiers and scientists you had never stood out as anyone extraordinary. Having been born on this planet has  put you in the strained position of having little to no role, and yet you’ve somehow drawn the attention of the one person that has the power to turn your life inside out. 
How much does he know about you? 
Lo’ak clears his throat, snapping you out of your spiral. 
“You’re not going to faint are you? Cause I really don’t want to be blamed for that one.” 
Sweat beads at your temple and your body trembles as your knees tuck to your chin. You can’t necessarily blame Lo’ak for being concerned, not when your entire world is spinning around you. 
“Look, I’m going to give you some advice simply because you look like you need it.” He says, propping one knee up. “Stop fighting it. Forget about that hell hole you lived in. Forget about that damned planet and take advantage of what you have here. Save yourself some time and start listening to my brother. If you’re waiting for him to give out, you’ll be waiting forever.” 
You don’t answer. There are too many things to say. Too many things to turn over in your head, enough to bloom a pounding headache. 
Horns sound through the forest, followed by distant Na’vi calls in response. 
Neteyam’s back. 
Lo’ak gently pats your leg like you’re old friends. “Good talk.” He says before standing up. You stop him before he leaves though. 
“Wait you….you aren’t going to tell him though, right? About…earlier?”
A wide grin spreads across his face. 
“Neteyam’s right, you are adorable.” 
And with that, Lo’ak is gone. 
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“I’m sorry!” You whine, legs shaking over Neteyam’s shoulders. 
Pleasure shoots through you like lightning but as orgasm after orgasm is pulled from your weeping pussy, his flicking tongue brings a sharp edge. You’ve lost count at this point of how many times your climax has spread over his smirking lips. If this continues any longer you are sure your body will give out. 
“Hold still.” He firmly rasps against your clit. 
Although those muscular arms are wrapped around your thighs, you know he could hold them tighter. But instead Neteyam gives just enough space for you to wiggle and squirm desperately. It’s clear he enjoys the struggle. 
“No more!” You screech, roughly pushing at the top of his head. He doesn’t so much as flinch. Instead, his tongue travels down to gently tease at your opening. When it  pushes inside of your clenching pussy the stretch is enough to make you gasp. It’s not the first time and you know it won’t be the last but over the past few days he has at least let you catch a reprieve between rounds. 
He pulls back, catching his breath with a dopey grin.
“So sweet, little gift.” He wastes no time in diving back in, but there is little that can be done about it as you are pushed up against the wall and sat on his shoulders. Your fingers tangle into his braids, holding on for dear life. Nine feet suddenly feels so much higher than you remember. 
He attacks your overstimulated cunt ferociously, giving no heed to your shaking body or wild pleas. His mouth opens to encompass your entire pussy, lips creating a seal around the area as he sucks harshly. It’s beyond anything you have ever experienced with human men and there are no resources in your arsenal to prepare you for the intense feeling. 
“I can’t I can’t IcanticantIcant.” The words flow from your lips into a tangled mess and Neteyam’s tongue juts out to tap that bundle of nerves rapidly. The sound that comes from you is one you do not recognize. His ears perk up in response, tail lashing back and forth. 
If anything your sounds egg him on, tongue thrashing desperately and massaging every crevice of sensitive area between your folds. The heat is so much that you feel as if your body will ricket apart into pieces and yet the desire never wains. Although the sensory overload is painful, you can’t stop your hips from thrusting back against his soaked lips. 
Delight dances in his wide golden orbs as he sneaks a glance up at you. 
You shut them tight in response.
It’s the way he looks at you that feels more intimate than anything else.
Even more personal than the hands that explore your body freely or the toned Na’vi form that presses you into the hammock at night. 
His gaze is also the one thing you can semi avoid, at least for now. 
When his nails reach back to dig into your plush cheeks and his tongue enters you once more  another climax rockets through you. Neteyam’s flat nose nudges at your clit fiercely while he continues to stretch you out. The pain and pleasure bleed into one another but all you know is that it’s overwhelming. 
Blood pounding so hard at your ears you barely make out those pathetic sounds coming from your lips. 
Neteyam doesn’t stop until you are yanking at his hair and tears stream down your cheeks. 
He leans back to admire his handy work, chin shimmering with your sweet juices. Thumb gently sliding down your puffy lips he hums in satisfaction. You’re absolutely debauched. You know that. There is no need to look down in order to know that between your thighs is a sticky mess. 
“That will do, I think.” He murmurs and your head leans back against the wall to catch your breath. 
Relief is cut short however when you are suddenly slid down his body and manhandled to have your legs wrapped around his narrow waist. He smiles at your little shriek and the way you cling to his shoulders. 
“Mawey, tiyawn.” 
“Teyam, I’m tired.”
“I know, but a good pet takes her punishment first.” 
Your heart lurches.
“But I thought-”
The words morph into a gasp when one long finger probes at your entrance. Collecting the leaking slick and cum there, Neteyam uses that to glide into your still overstimulated pussy. Bucking to get out or range only causes you to hit the kelku post and incidentally sink that finger in deeper. You cry out at the stretch, even with the preparation it feels like so much more than you could imagine one finger to be. 
“That’s it, little gift. Just relax. Take it all.” And by some insane miracle you manage to take him down to the last knuckle. 
“I was planning on letting you adjust to just my tongue for a while but after this morning’s…events, I think we need to quicken your training. Don’t you think, pet?”
Nothing but a silent scream comes from your parted lips. And you most definitely fail to give a response when that digit curls to find its target easily. Neteyam doesn’t seem to mind.
“Although, I admit I am partly to blame. I should’ve known better than to leave you alone. Should’ve known my little gift would miss me.” He purrs, craning his neck down to run his nose along your shoulder and throat. 
That slippery digit pulls out but only to have the tip of another join it at your entrance. On instinct you brace yourself but Netyeam whispers sweet nothings into your ear, promising a reward if you just relax for him. Before you know it he is using both to scissor you open. 
“It's a learning process for both of us.” Neteyam casually sighs, as if he doesn’t have two fingers tearing you apart from inside as your brain cells fry to ash. At this point he may as well be talking to himself. 
His tail slinks around your waist as he adds a third finger slowly. 
“But don’t worry, pet.” They massage at your sweet spot sinfully until you are shaking like a leaf. “I’d never give up on you.” And those are surely the scariest words Neteyam has ever said and yet their full magnitude can’t hit you now with the state you’re in. 
He kisses your cheek softly before starting a steady pace in and out of your tight pussy. 
“T-tey tey ah Teyam.” You stutter out, not sure how or what you are asking for but feeling like you need to at least try. 
“Mawey, pet.” He says simply, eyes trained on where his slick fingers disappear into your heat. 
The stretch and pleasure coalesce together along with your trembling nerves until you can not differentiate clearly between the various sensations. Your cheeks are wet with tears and eyes staring in a daze up at him as little whimpers rise occasionally. 
“Fuck, this tiny pussy is squeezing my fingers so well.” 
You collapse against him, cheek pressed against his collarbone as he continues to hold your weight with one arm. 
“Stay awake, oeyӓ tiyawn.” 
You hardly listen as you’re carried to the hammock and laid down. Painfully slow, his fingers dip from your tight cunt and your body sags at the loss. 
“Almost done.” 
That catches your attention, intuition sparking as you lazily watch Neteyam riffle through a bag. 
“Got something special for your training. To start it at least.” 
The plastic strange object looks small in his big hands but when he brings it to rest on your stomach the size makes your eyes bulge. 
You’re wide awake now. 
“Neteyam no, please! I don’t think I can I-I”
“It’s just a small one, little gift. Have to get you stretched out somehow if you ever hope to take me.” He smirks, squeezing your right thigh for comfort.
“No no but I-I can’t because….because I-I…..I’ve never used toys before.” The lie is a knee jerk reaction and one not elegantly delivered. 
It earns you a dark look, the Olo’eyktan’s lips turning downward. Suddenly your face is caught in his hand, cheeks squishing beneath his fingers. 
“Oh really? And what would you call that pink toy you love so much?” 
Oh God. When did he see that?
How did he see that? 
How much of your life has been observed by this man?
“I don’t appreciate being lied to. I also don’t appreciate coming home to have my brother tell me my tiyawn almost killed herself falling out of a tree today. Or seeing how your misbehavior has marked up my property.” He gestures to the scuffs and scrapes along your inner thighs. “Should we really be adding another infraction to the list today?” 
Your head is shaking before he even finishes. 
“I didn’t think so.” He sighs. “Now be a good girl and spread those pretty legs.” You obey as he pulls you to the edge of the hammock, legs dangling over the side. 
With some time and patience the toy slowly slips inside of you inch by inch. In some ways it's smaller than Neteyam’s three fingers but it’s also plastic and cold. Not nearly as pleasurable as his warmth. 
“There we go.” He praises once it is seated all the way inside. “So pretty.” He kisses right over your filled pussy and you shiver. 
Settling into bed is more difficult than usual. It’s expected to have his larger body completely wrapped around you, making sure there is no room for escape but now every time you squirm to get comfortable the toy shifts inside of you. 
“Stop moving, tiyawn. It’s been a long day.” He throws one leg over your hips for good measure. “Be a good girl and I’ll let you sleep with it off.” 
Off? 
You crane your neck to face him and see that there is a tiny remote grasped between his fingers. Your eyes widen, movements ceasing immediately. Neteyam smiles into your hair whispering sweet nothings until his voice starts to become lazy with sleep. 
Eventually his breaths deepen while you pout silently in the dark. The toy is pressing at that bundle of nerves again but when you shuffle slightly the Olo’eyktan lets out a deep groan and pulls you flush against him. 
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More to come! If you enjoyed please don't be afraid to comment, reblog, or even send an anonymous ask with your thoughts. Feedback truly means the world to me and motivates me to keep writing and updating.
More of Little Gift to come;)
Taglist: @pandoraslxna @neteyamssyulang @tallulah477 @criticallybella @sullybrothersmate @lilghostiequinni @chershire23 @lala-1516 @teyamshuman @yawnetu @puddle-nerd @ratchetprime211 @avatargirly @chocolatechocobo91 @kariz-stark @bunnscoffe @avatarwifey @universal-s1ut @witchsprit @heart-an0n @riri-is-a-girlie @rivatar @minnory @ikeyniofthetayrangi @ilovehobi101 @spicymayyo @v4mp1rr3 @nilsavatar @bambithewriter @quicktosimp @itchaboi-itchyboy
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wheneclipsefalls · 2 months
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The next part of Little Gift is in the editing process so last chance to get on the taglist! I'm hoping I can get it up either today or tomorrow<3
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