It’s been a month since your new owner brought you home, and despite expectations, you’ve yet to be eaten by the predators you share your den with. On the contrary, the six hybrids seem to have accepted you as their seventh pack member despite you being at the very bottom of the food chain.
You’ve come to trust that, despite the look of hunger in their eyes… food isn’t exactly what they have in mind.
The hyena seems to be the only one your age. But he’s also a bit of a bully. Always goading you with ticklish poking until you stomp your feet and whine at him to stop.
He never listens to you, though – he just cocks his head, finding it funny how you try giving him orders – only grinning as he pins you instead, chewing some on the lops of your ears while squeezing your cottontail – smirking and giggling at your pouty face getting all frustrated.
Your weak kicking is so cute, and so is how you try clawing at him despite having but blunt nails – he can’t help but laugh at the way it tickles him.
It’s so painstakingly clear you’re not made to fight back, and it’s so adorable how you don’t even realize you already surrendered the moment you rolled over on your back with your belly up.
It makes him go absolutely feral when you pull on his ears and mane, begging him to stop as he laves at your slit and clit, delving his long tongue deep within your walls until the tip prods your womb. It’s course against your skin and harsh on your insides and scratches your poor clit until it’s all swollen and throbbing for him – making you sob as his feral smile teases your chubby mound with a bite – only satisfied when you cum in his mouth.
But while the hyena enjoys play-fighting with you, the rest are more prone to fight each other…
The panther and leopard are good friends, whilst the fox and wolf seem to tolerate each other – and you don’t know whether it’s unfortunate or a blessing in disguise that both pairs only want you for themselves and often end up fighting over you.
You’d say the four are the most trigger-happy of the pack – always hissing and barking at each other. But everyone knows that cats and dogs don’t get along.
The canines are a little scarier, you think. They’re rougher with you.
The wolf especially. He’s older than you, a big heap of hulking muscles that bear down over you with the daunting superiority of a seasoned hunter.
He doesn’t take lightly to you talking back to him – acting as though he’s actually offended when you so much as open your mouth if it’s not to swallow his tongue. Even if all you ask is for him to go a little slower, he’ll just growl at you – threatening your neck with fangs while chewing your collar – and otherwise ignore your cry completely. Calling you his bitch while telling you to quit your whimpering even though he’s been breeding you sore for the past hour, ramming your poor cunt so hard your muscles have all given out and left you to lie on the floor with only his paws keeping your hips upright.
He's always extra rough when you reek of cat – as though it’s your fault. Huffing and puffing as he now has to spend so much effort scenting you again.
It’s a never-ending war between them all. You go from camp to camp, getting marked again and again like territory, only for your owner to clean you up at the end of the day.
But the wolf is the worst. One time he’d gone so far as to piss on you…
But he was later scolded by the owner – bonking his head with a rolled-up newspaper, telling him he had to learn to share or else he’d have to go sleep out in the doghouse. He’d also been told he had to stop breaking skin when biting you unless he wanted to be muzzled.
It only made him all the more grumpier. Growling in your ear that the one who ought to be muzzled is you and your snitch-mouth always crying wolf like some bitch who never learns her place – that next time you go talking to the owner, he’s going to eat you like the piece of meat you are.
You come to learn that he’s more bark than bite after a while.
When you get used to him and his stamina, you stop crying and start holding onto him instead. And it’s when you’re burying your face in his neck and begging for his seed that he softens up for you.
He stops biting and starts sucking instead – laying hickeys all over your neck and chest, blushing with closed eyes when suckling your tits like a pup. You learn he’s a sucker for being called good boy and will wag his tail when you sit on his face.
He’s also the one with the most owner-sickness of the pack, always clinging to you, growling when others get close, and never ever sharing when his turn.
He only begrudgingly allows the fox to eat his scraps afterward.
You can only mew as he mounts you next.
His tempo is always a bit of a shock – a bit juvenile, but who can blame him when he’s had to wait for so long? He’s a little younger than you – eager and desperate for it every single time.
Pounding you sharply – hard and fast with howls and heavy panting – even whimpering as you hold you tighter and tighter, squeezing you free of air as he savors the feel of your wet pussy clamping down around him.
He doesn’t growl too much when you whine. Instead, he laughs – elated and frenzied – eyes manic as he sticks his tongue as far down your throat as he can – drooling uncontrollably as he sinks his knot inside you and spills his worth inside your womb.
It’s a relief he doesn’t last as long as his bigger partner.
He’ll suck love-bites on the chubs of your cheeks as he unswells – lick all the sweat from your skin and come down by the sweet taste. Laying sloppy kisses all over your body and lapping over all bruises and soreness in gratitude – looking at you somewhat sheepishly with big puppy-dog eyes as though suddenly embarrassed that he’d been so feral.
The felines are less spastic.
But they also like to lick you – with sand-textured tongues scraping at your fur and skin until they’ve made sure you’re coated with their scent. They seem to enjoy grooming more than anything, always snuggling with you.
But they get flirty, too… you’ll know when they start kneading your softer parts – blinking at you slow and expectantly until you return the favor.
They’re the same age and have known each other all their life, practically brothers, and do everything together as though they were a pair of Siamese – including when they mate with you.
They’ll lay you down on one lean chest while the other is poised above you. Purring as they take turns with you – both so gently.
The panther always has a sly smile on his face when looking down at you – his claws retracted while he sticks his slender fingers inside your mouth to play with your tongue. He says it’s one of his favorite things about you – so soft and so silky, so different from theirs when you lick his skin.
It makes the leopard pout behind you, nuzzling you tight, his cheek to your cheek, asking the other if he doesn’t like it when he grooms him.
The panther only smiles down at both of you, promising that he likes both your tongues until he proceeds to swap between which one of you he kisses.
When the leopard kisses you, he also admits he likes your tongue – whispering all depraved things that come to mind – loves how smooth it feels in his mouth and on his lips and neck and nipples and cock and balls.
Eventually, the heat gets to their heads, and their pointy ears start to droop, looking at you with such dark glossy eyes, opium-blown with pleasure and lust for more – kissing each side of your face, asking whether you won’t allow them both inside you at the same time – their pretty pleas making your head go silly, panting while nodding your head for them, bucking your hips stuck between the two while begging for both of them.
You feel their slim tails coil around each of your thighs as they sink inside your drooling heat together – their breaths deep and shuddering while they feel your tightness squeeze around them.
They coo at you – telling you how perfect you look trapped between them like that – as their pretty little double-stuffed toy. And you’re too cock-drunk to do anything but agree.
After flooding you with cum, they go back to cuddling – sleeping – the both of them purring with lanky limbs all tangled on top of each other and you in the middle.
The bear is also a lazy fellow – a gentle giant. Something you’re grateful for – you don’t think you’d survive if he ever tried mounting and pounding you like the other boys.
He’s the eldest of the pack. Twice your age. You feel the seniority in his movements – all unhurried, savoring every second with a warm smile.
He’s satisfied with having you on his lap – cock-warmed by your tight bunny-cunt while you hand-feed him berries. You feel a little safer with him knowing you have the same appetite and that he isn’t thinking about eating you.
He hums, a rusty sound that comes from his gut – telling you he likes seeing you eat – that it’s cute how you take such small bites – and the way your nose scrunches and your cheeks fill.
Sometimes he’ll tell you to hop on his lap – his massive warm paws placed on your haunches with large black claws gently denting the plush flesh found there, encouraging you as you ease up and down the great length that bulges from your belly.
The size of it makes you pant.
You’re glad he’s happy having you at the end of the day – after you’ve been loosened up by the others. You fear he’d split you in two if otherwise.
The owner collects you before bedtime after everyone’s had their share – clips a leash onto your collar, and leads you to the bathroom – crawling on all four like an actual animal. You’ll often collapse halfway there, but he doesn’t mind scooping you up to carry you instead – always with a few patronizing words leaving him while mollycoddling you, almost speaking baby to you, telling you how proud he is of how domesticated you’ve become.
There’s always a bath waiting for you – a gift for being such a good little pet, he says.
It reminds you of when you were first brought here, as he washes you with his own hands – rubbing the filth of spit, cum, and sweat from your sore limbs, messaging your flesh into nice limber softness again.
He’s always mumbling about human matters under his breath – money, business, estate – ruffling your hair when you give him a blank stare. Apologizing while saying he won’t trouble your pretty head with such complicated topics.
All you have to worry about is being his stress-relief – something clueless and dumb and dependent on him. You realize that without him needing to say it. It’s communicated through all the other things he says anyway.
He’s always whispering in your ear before bed – sweet nothings about what a good bunny you are – how you’re the cutest, softest, sweetest little thing in the entire world – telling you how much he loves you and how happy he is that you’re finally settling in – how you’ve become the most precious little housebroken pet for him.
It feels different when he touches you. The other hybrids make you feel small, but there’s a familiarity with them – something about being hunted fairly and squarely, like out in the wild.
With the owner, you’re reminded you’re a pet eating out of his palm – something tame warming his bed at night with your leash tied to the bed frame.
He doesn’t fuck you with the same intent as the others do – there’s no rut behind his cold movements. It’s not mating or breeding. It’s something else you can’t put your finger on. Something human. Something alien to you.
Something in the way he has his hand fisting your leash as he sinks inside your heat – something in how he babies you, calls you cute when you shake and cum around his cock like you can’t control yourself.
It all makes you feel like some mindless animal.
Impulsive and primitive in comparison to him and his calculated thrusts and how he only cums inside you after you’ve all but begged him to breed you.
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Thinking about being a pretty little bunny caught in the claws of two big bad wolves…
They both cram themselves inside the same hole – fucking you rhythmically alongside each other with your smaller body pressed between theirs.
Sharp claws dent your flesh while canines fully split it open – imprinting on your fragile skin unforgivingly deep – leaving it to bruise and gush with blood the moment they spill the last of their big weighty balls inside you – both at the same time.
And after knots unknot and stiff thickness deflate – turning soft before slumping out of your abused hole – you’re finally allowed to rest in a mixture of bitter-sweet relief.
Gratefully accepting their long-awaited finish – you slump against the sweaty chest before you with the face of your cheek smushed tight against the soothing warmth – hole fluttering numbly around nothing with the ticklish feeling of hot cum slowly trickling out only to go cold in the air.
Their sounds turn soft with a loss of growls and sharp teeth, and the one behind you places a kiss on your cheek, telling you that he’s proud – his breaths heavy and damp against your skin while he rests his sweaty forehead and slick mane softly against you.
Both of them hug you gently – pressed tight between them – and slowly work on retrieving some semblance worth of strength while caught in the hefty crash of rapture – bodies ablaze yet steadily cooling with hearts halting in their sporadic run – dying down into slow thuds, draining until they’re both just two heaps of unwound muscles.
A couple of minutes more just like that and one of them leaves you with a groan while other begins lazily kissing and licking you in aftercare – his warm tongue laving gently over the brutal lovebites they’ve left on your otherwise pretty skin – whispering soothingly that he only wants to clean them up, so you don’t catch any unwanted infections.
But his efforts of comfort don’t really help you keep from trembling or whimpering, nor do they help ease your erratic breath – where you sit between his legs, held tightly to his chest with both his thick arms wrapped effortlessly snug around your much smaller waist.
He's in charge of getting you cleaned up and dressed while his partner preps dinner – you hear the wolf downstairs with pots and pans while the one he’d left you with pulls you into a white babydoll – helping you stand where you wobble with hips aching upon every little move.
He tells you that you're the cutest, making you yelp when squeezing your cottontail before picking you up like a wounded animal – as though you're incapable of making it down the stairs alone.
The stench of dead animals oozing from the kitchen makes you queasy more than hungry – but your captors, on the other hand, easily work up an appetite with the taste of your blood still fresh on their teeth.
The thunderous sound of their stomach rumbling is all too much to keep you from crying – despite the warning you’d received the last time you’d created too much of a fuss for them – when one of them had forced bits of meat down your throat, making you chew and swallow it all one torturous bite at a time until you’d finally learned your lesson, willingly opening your mouth for him despite flinching and crying at the unnatural stomach-twisting taste.
He'd seemed somewhat sorry seeing you throw up for days from both disgust and indigestion – and had since tried making up for it by preparing proper meals catered to your diet.
You were happy to see the medley of leafy greens and baby carrots plated for you on the dinner table, averting your eyes from the massive medium rare steaks the two dogs loudly and hungrily started cutting into – lop ears flinching upon the clash of sharp knives crashing hungrily against ceramics – trying to withhold the whimper when seeing the mixture of blood and grease roll down their chins along with the unsightly view of their sharp teeth tearing through tendons as effortlessly as if it were nothing but the same grass on your plate.
Fruit for dessert is nearly enough to lift the nausea while the three of you snuggle on the couch after dinner. Or perhaps you’d just gotten used to it – they always get lazy after eating after all – and cuddly.
You lie on top of one of them, your back against his broad chest – lifting with the rise and fall of his beaths. The other lies on top of you again, on his belly. He tells you to scratch his ears, and you don’t dare refuse him.
He moans when you rub on the tip between your small fingers – resting his head atop your heart before starting to drool, small growls ever-present in his snores. His tail lifts and slowly starts wagging in drowsiness as he gives the inside of your ear a ticklish lick – making you cringe and whine.
The one beneath you rests his chin atop your head, chuckling at the two of you – and you really wish you could get used to how the growl in their chests rock your ribs and how their mouths reek of death. Desperately, you try to focus on the smell of bleach and flowers – the ones they’ve bought and brought home to you when trying to distract you from the grocery bags held behind them – chock-full of bloody bits they stock the meat locker with.
That would be your worst nightmare, you unwillingly think, shuddering at the thought as if consumes you – to be locked up in that room – you’re only glad they’ve yet to think of it as a punishment.
Sometimes you wonder if they’re planning to eat you at some point. You’re certain they understand they can’t successfully breed with you – so it wouldn’t make sense for them to keep you forever, even though they swear to it when you sleep squished between their bodies in the middle of the bed with their massive paws and sturdy claws latched onto your supple flesh.
It's impossible for you to ignore what they are when the whole den has hints of rot lingering in the air, and you don’t think you’ll ever be able to let go of the fear. But at the same time… you can’t really deny their love entirely either – not when they rub their snouts into your neck so lovingly, cuddling you tight as though protecting you from any harm, grooming you with their own tongues ticklish against your skin and fur, thoroughly leaving their print and scent on you, fully claiming you as theirs.
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Halloween! AKA, Y/N/reader/anon's best night (with size difference because deez nu-).
I originally made them at Mcdonald's, but my brain went funky... This was also kinda experimental? Drawing with a mouse sucks, but I like the thick brush.
Sorry for not posting anything! Will drop some Fallout shitposts this weekend
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⋆｡° ✮ Warnings: threesome (mmf), spitroating, p in v, oral, hints of anal, size kink, praise, reader is basically their human sex toy but she’s into it (and so am i)
⋆｡° ✮ this is for my lovely @neteyamsyawntu and was definitely inspired by our conversation from yesterday 😌🩵
Forming an alliance between clans is a difficult task, but Neteyam has his ways of convincing different na’vi of importance to join the omatikaya. Everyone has a soft spot for something, it’s just about finding out what it is. And by the way the leader of the resistance had been ogling you the first time you met, Neteyam knew just what that soft spot was for him.
"You said you have more humans like her in your clan?" So‘leks voice is calm and steady as he eyes the warrior in front of him. Neteyams grins.
"Many. Like I said, I promise they can be trusted."
So‘leks gaze wanders down to where his hands are squeezing the delicate curves of your hips, so fragile under his touch. You’re warm and soft, and he uses his firm grip to pull you back against his deep thrusts. He enjoys the little noises you make around Neteyams cock, whenever his own brushes against your cervix with ease. Such a small little thing, he thinks.
Tilting his head, he admires the view of your back as it arches further, the faster he pounds you from behind. Despite the suffocating tightness of your sweet little cunt, there comes no sign of distress from you, only sounds of pleasure mixed with the clicking of the dog tags around his neck.
"She’s so tight", he chuckles lowly, his thumbs drawing soothing circles on your hips, "but she takes it so good."
"Hmh", Neteyam purrs proudly, brushing a gentle hand through your hair to keep them out of your face. "I trained her well. She’s always so eager to serve me, am I right? Such a good girl for me."
You make a gagging noise just as the tip of Neteyams cock hits the back of your throat, and then clench around So‘leks. They both appreciate the way you moan around his length in agreement, with low grunts and groans from deep within their chests.
"If all humans in your clan are like her, I’ll gladly join", the warrior smiles down at the little human almost fondly.
You whine and squirm between the two na‘vi, thick strings of saliva dripping from your mouth around Neteyams cock when he draws away. You moan louder as you finally catch a gasp of air, but it’s quickly muffled when he pushes his length all the way back inside your mouth. They continue to fuck you between their two lean bodies, pushing you back and forth, gentle but firm.
"Not all", Neteyam admits with a chuckle, "but if she likes you, I promise to share her again. That is, if you accept my offer and fight with us?"
It’s a question that hangs heavy in the air, and So‘lek is almost too distracted by the pulsing of your sweet pussy as you come around his throbbing length to find the words to respond to the other man. Your moans turn more high pitched as they both fuck you through it, and it amazes him how little effort it takes to get you trembling. He really could get used to this…
"So, are you in?" Neteyam asks, just as he tightens the grip on your hair and pushes your pretty, swollen lips further down his cock. He holds you there for a long moment, So‘lek watching your throat constrict around him as you swallow what he assumes is Neteyams cum, before he finally pulls you off again so you could catch a breath of much needed air.
It’s a tempting offer that only gets more appetizing when the na‘vi in front of you crouches down and seems to be whispering something in your tiny, round ear, before placing a tender kiss to your forehead. A flustered blush spreads over your cheeks as you suddenly shuffle into a different position, your back arching even more and your cheek resting on the cold hard floor now.
"Maybe that will help make up your mind, brother", Neteyam grins a knowing grin as you reach behind yourself and spread your ass for So‘lek to see, the small puckered hole clenching around nothing. The warrior swallows thickly at the sight.
He‘s still inside you, holding onto your hips and keeping himself buried to the hilt. What finally snaps him out of his admiration, is your whiny voice calling out for him.
"S-So‘lek", you whimper, pleading with those big round eyes staring back at him over your shoulder. Pleading for more, something, anything.
So‘leks gaze then meets Neteyams, who nods at him with a cocky smirk,
"Join us. I promise, you will benefit of this alliance."
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A girlie is ovulating rn and ik yall know ab ovulation horniness so i was js thinkin..🤭
Smut under the cut‼️ MDNI‼️
Neteyam and Lo’ak being able to smell how horny you get when you ovulate, so every time they come to the lab and they notice you’re not out in the main area like you always are, they alr know you’re in your room “handling yourself”. Which was one of the things you said while explaining why you smell so different to them.
Both of their large footsteps make it to your door, but you’re too lost in the pleasure your vibrator was giving you to notice them. “Mama, you in here?” Lo’ak asks politely, but neteyam was already opening the door because of how strong your scent was even through the door. You slam your legs shut once you lock eyes with them, immediately feeling embarrassed. “What the fuck are you doing here?”
Ignoring you they both storm over to you, tearing off the small amount of clothes you had on. Neteyam made quick work of getting behind you and holding you in place while lo’ak dove into your pussy like he hasn’t eaten in days. “Tawtute, why didn’t you come to us? You know we’d love to help you out with your little human problem” neteyam says in between his kisses and bites on your shoulder, making lo’ak let out a muffled giggle at his comment as he continues to draw circles on your clit.
“I-i didn’t wanna bother you-mhm~ you guys..” you say in an almost silent tone, not trusting your voice with how loak was demolishing your pussy. “Awh mama how cute, you know we don’t mind when you ask us for little favors” Lo’ak says before leaving a few kitten licks to your clit and inserting his middle and ring finger into you and rubbing your clit in tight circles with his thumb instead of his tongue,setting a pace that was driving you to the edge.“Mhm! Lo’ak!” You say while throwing your head against neteyams chest,giving him more of an area to mark. Effortlessly they both find your sweet spots, making you scream out both of their names and let out almost pornographic moans. “Fuck! I’m gonna cum! I’m- please don’t stop!” Making both of the brothers continue their attacks to your sensitive body, causing you to squrit all over lo’aks finigers. Coming down with soft whimpers and moans, you lean back into neteyams chest. “Awh tawtute, don’t get sleepy on us now. We aren’t finished with you yet.”
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DID NOT MEAN TO MAKE THIS A WHOLE FIC LMFAOO IT WAS JS A HORNY THOUGHT😅
if anybody has ever read cruel summer, i hope you're gonna be even a tenth as excited as I am about this incredible drawing by the amazing @oakbuggy of a scene from the second chapter of my story. this was honestly one of the absolute best birthday presents i've ever gotten (not only cause i get to stare at two hot people for prolonged periods of time), and i will cherish it forever and ever. thank you to all the beautiful, incredible, phenomenal pookies (@sulieykte, @jakexneytiri, @pandoraslxna, @blue-slxt, @neteluvr, @tiredmamaissy, @neteyamsoare, @neteyamsyawntu) i am fortunate enough to call friends for commissioning this piece for my birthday.
