Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/443425.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Graphic_Depictions_Of_Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
  Category:
      F/M, M/M
  Fandom:
      Avatar:_Legend_of_Korra
  Relationship:
      Amon/Korra, Amon/Tahno, Amon/Lieutenant
  Character:
      Amon_(Avatar), Korra_(Avatar), Tahno_(Avatar), Lieutenant_(Avatar)
  Additional Tags:
      Bloodbending, Masturbation, Humiliation, Sexual_Fantasy
  Stats:
      Published: 2012-06-25 Words: 359
****** Fantasies ******
by Ekala
Summary
     He’d thought about it, sometimes.
Notes
     For Sammy.
He’d thought about it, sometimes.
Well, perhaps ‘sometimes’ was a bit of an understatement.
He’d never been proud of his bending, of the advantage it gave him over people.
But there was certainly something arousing about the idea of someone at his
complete mercy. The Avatar, maybe, nubile young body quivering in his grip,
face contorted in fear. Or one of the pro-benders; a smug, prideful attitude
crushed under his heel - well, cock - as he would thrust into him, that
infinitely aggravating hair twisted into one of his fists.
He undid his pants, taking himself in hand and stroking firmly, releasing a
breath.
Maybe it would be one of the normals. Or one of his own equalists. Their
dreams, shattered roughly before their eyes as he forced them down before him,
fucking their mouth with rough abandon. Not him, maybe - facial hair would
tickle. Those eyes would look lovely, he thinks, thrusting obscenely into his
own hand. Heartbroken, tears pooling at the corners, still that ever-present
shade of blue.
A breathy chuckle escaped him. Almost like his brother’s. His soft spot for the
man hadn’t come from his skills, that much was certain.
He wondered if he could force them to open up, to push inside them recklessly
and have them like it. To arouse them against their will, to feel them twitch
and clench around him while he knows they’d be screaming in protest, if they
had the ability.
His cock jerked in his hand, clothes suddenly insufferably hot, mask trapping
his breaths. He moaned softly, hand quickening.
He’d release inside them, if he could. Watch the humiliation on their faces, as
another set of tears squeezed themselves out of their frozen expressions. That
wasn’t always an option, however, and perhaps instead he’d simply spread it all
over her body, pearly white contrasting with the darkness of his people’s skin.
Maybe they’d have enough fight in them to beg. To plead for him to stop, to do
that but no not that never that, to moan for release—
He stiffened, breath stuttering, that fantasy more than enough to push him far
over the edge.
Whatever edges were left.
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