Tito

twitter: polloEnLaPared | commissions OPEN 1/2

[tessless]

Hi everyone - for anyone interested in commissioning me: here are my prices! Keep in mind I don't draw only Avatar, so feel free to commission any character!

Further information and my TOS here: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1jUn0hYsMXCCpqNLqd-pKc9XGIWCTRulrKDrKDQQdDCw/edit?tab=t.0

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[cerealash]

Im Preyin’ on You.

vampire recom zhang x reader

warnings: blood, predator/prey dynamics, restraints, hunting/chasing, slight smut, dubious consent/CNC(you both consent prior to this)

@manskluv @theatregeek-247

im back and im locking in

The air was cold on your skin, the kind of cold that causes goosebumps to break out all along your body. Hugging yourself didn’t work as the last piece of warmth seeped from your skin.

You didn’t bring a jacket during your nightly stroll, figuring you’d be back before sun down but the drunks from the local bar forced you to take the longer path to avoid them.

Your head turned over your shoulder every few minutes, your heart beating faster every time you walked past a secluded section of the park. You swore you could feel eyes on you, like something was watching you. But there was nothing everytime you peered around the surrounding trees and footpath.

You picked up the pace, telling yourself you were being paranoid yet you stumbled over your own feet trying to return home faster. You heard it before you saw it, a twig snapping to the side of you. It was quiet and it made you aware of the leaves brushing upon eachother, the wind whistling and howling that forced you to freeze.

Gazing into the bushes too long made your heart thump, fingers digging into the dirt below before you scrambled to your feet. You hadn’t seen a thing yet you couldn’t stop running, soles kicking loose rocks as you followed the familiar trail leading to your home.

You didnt get the chance to scream.

Nails buried themselves into your skin, wrapping around your lips. His warm body pressed against your back as your breathing got faster, heartbeat in your ears.

“hmmm…” the hum came low, it sunk beneath your flesh as your thighs pressed together. You quivered as the cold breeze hit your skin in a wave that forces the trees around you to tussle.

You finally came to your senses and whipped your free arm back, delivering a left hook that caused your elbow to crack your assailant’s nose. The blow lessened his grip around you and you took off, running faster than before as you tore through the park. You flew from the path, cutting through the treeline to get home sooner.

Your chest burned. Hands numb. But you were only met with solid dirt as you were shoved to the ground. Zhang flipped you over onto your back, heaving as he loomed over you. He delivered a hard smack to your right temple. Served you right, you had to be punished. Hot, red liquid flowed from his nose onto your chest. You had a mean elbow, but he was meaner.

“Brat…You don’t even deserve my cock.” He growled into the crook of your neck, his sharp fangs dragging along the smooth surface, blood dribbled close behind. “But I’ll give it to you.”

You gasped as your pants were tugged past your hips, sitting around your ankles. You were left blushing as you were exposed to his awaiting eyes, already aroused and needy despite your fight.

Fingers forced their way inside you, not bothering to work you open. You were going to take him and learn your lesson, you weren’t being good.

He couldn’t get enough of you, your flesh wasn’t enough. He wanted to eat you whole. But he would take pounding into your pathetic hole for now.

sorry for taking so long yall and its not that good but i sorta lost that rhythm i had but im gonna try harder! thank you all for putting up with my problems i really adore my readers ❤️ let me know your criticisms or opinions, i need to be humbled

[pragerism]

prager and self-insert art

yes he's holding her up by his tail

[saelrum]

I had a vision

[anxiousdreamcore]

Colonel lost his cool.

.

(Do not repost my art on other platforms and DO NOT use it for AI ©)

[pragerism]

varang sketch

[fangirlingoverstufff]

Push and Pull

artwork by @pignk // writing by @fangirlingoverstufff

Special Note. This fic has been written in such a manner that you may decide who you want to imagine as the Top or Bottom!

Pairing : Recom Miles Quaritch x Recom Lyle Wainfleet Rating : Explicit 18+ Word count : 1.7k Warnings : switch Lyle and Quaritch, very lowkey bratty Quaritch, power dynamics (colonel/corporal), playful banter, established sexual relationship, implied sex, alcohol, very nostalgic, passionate and caring, tsaheylu Vibe : nostalgic, RDA, playful, after hours Context : In which Quaritch and Lyle share an intimate moment in Bridgehead's Ops Center during the dead of night.

Thank you again to @pignk for letting me post her beautiful artwork along with my short fanfiction. This art is actually what inspired my fic!

@silvaworks @cottoncloudcake @getojitiddies @smuttyjane @inkiestfiend @manskluv @pragerswoman @pxtched @illustriousdominiondynamo @cosmicstardustezra @pandoranraven @safeyasully

Enjoy my Avatar babes xoxo

✨

Push and Pull

Lyle took a deep breath. Fuck, the colonel smelled good. He’d always loved the way that Miles had smelt- like a mix of coffee and fresh cut wood- and tonight the smell of his excitement mingled with that of his natural scent, creating an intoxicating blend that made Lyle's thoughts scramble and his limbs heavy.

“What you thinkin’ about corporal?” Quaritch drawled.

Both men had a light flush heating their skin, giving the blue of their cheeks and chests a soft purple tint.

“Just thinkin’ about how good you smell-“ Lyle murmured, breath ghosting over Quaritch’s neck “- and feel in my hands.”

Quaritch hummed in delight.

Lyle cherished moments like these, where time seemed to stop and he got to see another, somewhat vulnerable side of the colonel. He knew that no one else ever got to see this part of Miles. In these rare instances, the faith of humankind felt like nothing but a distant memory, his only focus the man that stood before him. It was a relief.

It was luxury.

He licked at the sensitive skin of Quaritch's neck, feeling the steady thrum of his pulse under his tongue.

A small smile spread on Quaritch’s lips. There was a glint in his eyes- not of anger, not of determination, but of happiness. Real, unfiltered happiness. Lyle wasn’t the only one to savour these moments. If anything, Miles appreciated them even more. It was always in the arms of his corporal that he would feel most at peace. Free from taking any life altering decisions, from worrying about the faith of his men and women. He had too much blood on his hands, but whenever he was alone with Lyle it felt like his hands had finally been washed clean.

The two men had been sharing a few beers in the Ops Center- the area completely empty at such an odd hour of the night- when out of the blue Quaritch had taken away Lyle's beer and pulled him in by the collar of his polo. He’d kissed him gently at first, almost shyly, before any lingering restraint had rapidly melted away into a feverish clash of teeth and tongues. It had come to Lyle as a surprise, his mind hellbent on elaborating a plan to corner the Sullys, but rapidly enough he’d melted against his colonel's lips. It had been a long time since they were last intimate- too long- and Lyle had never been able to resist the man anyways. Quickly enough their shirts had been tossed aside, both men caught in each other’s embrace amongst the golden sea of holographic maps.

“Those lab coats were really generous with you, weren’t they?” Lyle mumbled against Quaritch's skin, hands greedily trailing over his body. The man was taller than him and more muscular, with broader shoulders and an impossibly narrow waist. Even as a human Miles had been one to make heads turn- God knows how many men and women had fawned over him, including Lyle- but he’d definitely never seen a Na’vi as breathtaking as him. He was beautiful in that sort of raw, masculine way, and Lyle hadn’t been able to tear his gaze away since he’d laid eyes on him that one fateful day of their rebirth.

Quaritch pulled back, making Lyle look up at him in confusion. He could also see a glimmer of lust in Lyle's gaze. It made his ears flatten and cheeks burn hotter. “You ain’t bad to look at either, corporal.” he murmured, studying the other man closely. He languidly draped his arms over Lyle’s shoulders, taking in the way his gaze softened at the compliment. He'd always found that the corporal was striking in his own way. Lyle was all hard lines with a sculpted face and high cheekbones, and a defined Adonis belt that disappeared under the waistband of his fatigues, luring the mind into wondering what hid underneath.

Except that Quaritch didn't have to imagine.

He knew exactly what was under those pants.

His dick twitched at the thought.

Lyle’s hands had stilled, palms pressed flat against Miles’ strong chest. He could feel his heartbeat under his left palm.

Quaritch's pulse had quickened.

A loopsided smirk spread over Lyle's face.

“C'mere.” he whispered, his gaze dropping to Miles’ lips, leaning in gently.

Quaritch tilted his head away, chin held high. "If I recall correctly, corporals don't give colonels orders." There was a light slur to his words, his southern accent heavier whenever he drank.

To anyone else Quaritch's words would've sounded bitter, but to Lyle this was simply part of the little game they liked to play.

He loved it.

"If I recall correctly,-" Lyle repeated, his tail flicking in amusement "- colonels don't fuck their corporals."

That made Quaritch's brows lift.

"Shut up." he drawled, but there was no bite to it.

Lyle chuckled. Quaritch was trying to act aloof, but with the way his voice had deepened and his eyes were trailing over every inch of Lyle's body, the corporal knew that he was everything but unbothered.

"Whatever you want... boss." he rasped, leaning in again. This time Quaritch didn't pull away, and before he could shoot back a snarky reply, Lyle licked a stripe up his neck, making his head roll back in pleasure, brows furrowed and jaw clenched tight in a deep groan. Although Quaritch had never directly admitted it, Lyle knew that he had always loved the authority that came with his titles.

He gently caught Quaritch's lip between his teeth, fangs lightly scraping the plump skin, and was rewarded with another groan. The sound sent a fresh wave of lust rushing through him. His palms slid down, wrapping around Quaritch's waist to settle against his lower back, right at the base of his tail. Quaritch's skin felt soft and warm under Lyle's fingertips as he pushed them past the waistband of his fatigues.

"Lyle..."

Lyle remained quiet, answering Quaritch’s plea by trailing his lips down again until he was buried in the crook of his neck. There he sucked and nipped at the tender skin, taking great pleasure in thinking that his ministrations would leave his mark on the other man. Perhaps Miles was his superior, but tomorrow the colonel would be walking around base with Lyle's scent lingering on his skin.

Lyle could proudly say that had fucked- and gotten fucked by- none other than the colonel Miles Quaritch.

A sense of pride swelled in his chest.

It had always fascinated Lyle how in his everyday functions the colonel was a man of authority, power and forwardness, but would play this game of push and pull whenever they were alone. With Lyle, Quaritch was neither at his mercy nor in complete control. One moment he would tell Lyle exactly what he wanted, the next he would let him do as he pleased.

Push and pull.

"Christ."

Lyle could feel Quaritch's nails digging into the hard flesh of his shoulders now, hips grinding shamelessly against his. Even his breath had gotten shallower. This was Quaritch’s way of begging and Lyle knew it, as he was too proud of a man to directly beg for anything.

Pull.

Lyle’s fingers pressed into Quaritch's back, drawing him in harder as he ground back against him for the first time. At this point he was fully erect and had every intention of letting the other man know just how turned on he was.

A low growl escaped Quaritch as he pressed his lips to Lyle's ear. "Stop teasin' around. You know damn well what I want." he whispered through gritted teeth.

His voice was rough, his southern drawl thick, and smell of his arousal weighed heavy in the air.

Ah. There it was.

Push.

And boy did Lyle know how to keep pushing his colonel's buttons just right.

He quickly wrapped Quaritch's braid around his fingers and tugged at the sensitive bundle of nerves. The sensation made Quaritch yelp, but before Lyle could savour the moment, the other man retaliated by reaching around him and pulling on his tail, sending a current of electricity up his spine. Lyle let out a stifled groan and within seconds both men were already crashing to the ground in a tangle of limbs and grunts.

There was no more holding back. No more hesitation. In the middle of Bridgehead’s control room, both men finally found each other again. Greedy mouths kissed everywhere, the salt of each other's sweat on their tongues. Impatient hands stroked, grabbed and pushed legs apart. Nails and fangs dug into flesh. A gasp here, a swear there. Their bodies rocked against one another, sweat covered skin glowing under the holograms as the wet sounds of their affections rapidly filled the empty room.

“Fuck, Miles.” Lyle panted, “Why did we ever wait so long?”

Lyle was referring to their lifetime as humans.

These fleeting moments between them were always bittersweet. They brought back to the surface beautiful memories they could no longer relive again, just as it reminded them of things they wished they'd done differently. The corporal and colonel had never crossed any boundaries in their time as humans, but now that they were brought back to life, any restraint they had held onto was long gone.

"We're here now. Forget about them." Quaritch rasped, breathless as he brought his kuru over to Lyle's.

The pink tendrils swayed happily together, intertwining with ease in a familiar dance.

Both men gasped at the sensation, pupils swallowing the yellow sea of their irises. To feel another so deeply was something that they could simply never get used to, no matter the amount of times they had completed the bond.

Soon enough their grunts and growls filled the air again in a crescendo of frenzied movements and ecstasy, every sensation and emotion amplified by the connection they shared.

They were given a second chance at life.

And this time, they would make sure to live with no regrets.

✨

[raggedypina]

Did a lil sweet comic about baby mama Varang

[whoeverbeatmetotheusername]

Recom Lopez Headcanons!

(None of these are fact or canon, they are just small details about the character i made up!)

•Lopez is actually one of the characters in which I’m not to sure where they’d come from in my mind, i believe that he’d either be Mexican or Calé Romani as the word Lopez is a Spanish surname meaning “Son of Wolf”.

•He/They

•One of the younger members of the group, around 24-27 when he died in the Battle of the Hallelujah mountains. Being eaten alive by animals.

•Had a small group of friends from when he was human who survived the Battle, a few of them started avoiding him after he came back due to their shared trauma of seeing him be torn apart.

•Covered in tattoos and piercings (when I say everywhere, I mean EVERYWHERE. Do with that information as you will)

•Convinced Fike and Lyle to get their first tattoos.

•Known to loose his temper very quickly, loves getting a rise out of people but can’t stand people insulting or giving him any form of back-chat. Was almost demoted for beating the shit out of someone who pissed him off.

•Is very similar to Lyle in terms of how he acts on missions. Follow orders, and get the mission done. Probably even more so, he wouldn’t hold back in killing or harming people if he was ordered to.

•Has had all types of partners of all genders. Although most of his relationships don’t seem to last long, he’s very open about himself because (most of the time) he couldn’t give less of a shit of what people where to think about him.

•One of the worst things you can do to him is bruise is ego. Is mostly fine with members of the squad making the occasional comment or jab here and there. But he’d go absolutely nuts at insults from anyone else, and then think about it for the next week or two.

•Is either incredible or foul at cooking. There’s no inbetween. It depends on how much he likes the dish, or how bothered he is.

•Is no contact with both of his parents, but he is close with his siblings and writes to them constantly.

•Closest with Zdinarsk and Brown, since him and Walker are so similar, they either cannot stand each other, or are best friends.

•Picks up languages quickly, knows Spanish, English, Polish and German.

[itskekeelise]

𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫.

— pairing: female!eyktanay!reader x ronal te natsira tan'ite

(male reader version coming after other requests/ideas are done)

synopsis: it had been an impossibly long day of work outside the reef, your body exhausted beyond capacity, yet your mind wouldn't rest. so you visit the tsahìk's tent to have her give you some herbs for reprieve. however, clouded by the darkness of night, she retrieves the wrong herbs, and things take a turn for the worse. or...the better?

word count: 4.1k

content warnings: smut! MDNI, 18+, sex pollen guys, first time for me ever writing it, ronal and tonowari are not mates but still rule together, she is still tsahìk, reader is implied to be the village stud👀, a little angst and smut, HEAVY on the smut tho, the slightest hint of power play if you squint, ronal is also an eater, all of this is to help reader trust, cunnilingus, fingering, creampies, scissoring, thigh riding, nipple play, most of this applies for both reader and ronal, dom!ronal, typically dom but now sub!reader, no kids no husband and NO RDA yayyyy look at that, she's all ours😛

a/n: that is MOMMY up there yall. omg she can literally do whatever the hell she wants to me idc look at those TITS holy shit. i love wlw so much. and she's so serious, just imagine a different demeanor but her still trying to keep up her tsahìk mask. mmmm delicious🤤 @niniiiu get your gay ass over here and read this too ik you want it

inspired by 'messages from the stars' by the rah band: 'you rescue me / you saved me from a certain tragedy / i get messages from the stars / when you make sweet love to me (oh)'

and 'go to town' by doja cat: 'let me see you go to town, baby, go to town, yeah / baby, let me watch you go to town / it's your one chance, baby, never or now'

The morning had been long, the evening even longer.

You accompanied the Olo'eyktan and other tsamsiyu out past the reef to mark boundaries for the beginning of akula season. There were fifteen of you, riding on the backs of scaled tsurak [skimwings], their bright orange and golden yellow fins extending and catching the sea breeze that blew along the seawall terraces. The water was cool, a light blue hue that was as familiar as the patterns of the tattoos that lined your arms, legs, back, and neck. Being the Eyktanay [second in command; Olo'eyktan-in-waiting], you helped the clan leader in spreading a series of paysyul [water lily] pollen pods along routes that marked the territory of the Metkayina, the warriors that accompanied the two of you following suit. Your duty was to uphold the pacifism and peace that the People of the Reef had known for their entire life, a vow you swore the day Tonowari asked you to be his second-in-command. It was honorable, but, at times, arduous.

Which led you to the Tsahìk's tent.

The walk from your marui [home] to the healers' area was strenuous, so much so that you contemplated even turning back. The sand, usually an easy path to traverse, felt as if it weighed down every movement you made, the fine white grains sinking softly under your tread. You brought your spear along, somewhat for show but mostly for support, as the soreness you felt in your extremities and joints was strong enough that you could barely lift your head. The exhaustion had bonded with your soul, each movement you made bringing out a heavy exhale within your chest, the idea of breathing even seeming laborious at times.

It took from the beginning of Eclipse to its height for you to walk the length of Awa'atlu, your home being on the western side of the village and the Tsahìk's tent on the east. Well, not the main healers' tents anyway. You wanted to go directly to Ronal. The Metkayina's Tsahìk knew the tasks you faced as a warrior, so she knew what would help you quell your restless mind best. Stepping up onto the woven walkway in the dead of night, the flowing of the tide as it came in, accompanied by the glowing bioluminescent flora that surrounded the islands on which the clan lived, you took the final steps towards her marui, your ears turning, hoping to catch any sound or noise coming from within.

A series of four gentle knocks along the sturdy, woven side of her home followed your careful analysis, the soft sounds of fabrics moving and light, hesitant steps began to grow louder and louder. The decorated flaps of Ronal's marui opened to reveal her form, a simple woven flower top and light, airy tewng [loincloth] covering her body, with her thick, wavy hair tied into one long braid. She eyed you suspiciously, tracing your silhouette up and down, before leaning along the side of the entrance, albeit hesitantly.

"Why does the Eyktanay grace my home at this hour? We both have duty to attend to in the morning."

With what little strength you had left, you exhaled deeply, trying to brush off the effects of the Tsahìk's sharp tongue. You did not come to her to be tested, you simply sought reprieve. But ever since childhood, the woman in front of you never was one to speak in a linear fashion unless her duty required that of her.

"Ronal, now is not the time. I spent all day out with Tonowari and I just need something to sleep. The pain of my body keeps me awake. Give me something that will settle my nerves."

At your pleas, her eyes softened, their sharp lines smoothing out, as she steps aside and allows you inside. Out of courtesy, you begin to move firewood stacked beside the central txeptseng [hearth] into the pit, waiting for Ronal to strike two stones together and ignite the fire, to bring warmth to the room. The remnants of her evening prayer were still evident, the hazy white smoke of blessed herbs and water lilies having been burned only hours earlier. Appearing behind you, she motioned for you to sit on the edge of her snovini [single-person hammock], while roving through baskets lined neatly along the back wall.

"What kind of tea are you going to give me, Tsahìk?" You spoke up, wanting to fill the awkward silence that permeated the room, its tension thick as you stared into space and Ronal worked diligently.

"Instead of a normal tea, I will give you some leaves of paywll [daphophet pods] to help soothe the aches you feel. It will act as a sedative to allow you to rest easier. Making a sleeping tea requires waking the resting patients in the healers' tents just to retrieve some herbs. Besides, this will work better for a warrior like you." Her tone became playful, as she glanced over her shoulder, a sly glint in her eye dancing with the luminance of the night. You scoff, but the small smile forming on your face indicates that your mood has lightened since earlier.

"Hurry the process along then. Whatever tea I get, I need it now. Or I will be sleeping in your home tonight. And I doubt you would enjoy that." There was a smirk plastered on your features as you watch Ronal lift brightly colored leaves into the air, brushing off some pollen that remained, before bringing her mortar and pestle to sit in front of her as she lowered herself onto the woven mats beneath her. While she ground the leaves into a fine paste, light blue pollen lifted into the air, some of the specks even faintly glowing against the bioluminescent plants outside. Its soft cloud was barely visible, were it not for the small specks that reminded you of syuratan [bioluminescence], yours illuminated in the darkness of the hour.

Pouring the paste into a wooden sieve wrapped in cloth, the Tsahìk, still entranced in her work, collected a pitcher of warm water that had been sat by the fire to heat up. You watched her movements methodically, mentally begging her to hurry the process along, though you knew it couldn't be rushed.

When Ronal finally looked up, her features masked through the cloud of blue still entrapped in her marui, her face and body went rigid with fear, the water pitcher just inches from being poured into the sieve. Her pupils dilated rapidly, her breathing nearly stopping, as she slowly shook her head. Your head cocked to the side, the want to know what was wrong forcing your sore body to stand and sit beside her.

"What is wrong, Ronal? Is the water not warm enough?"

"No...it is not—Great Mother, I made a mistake. A big mistake."

"What do you mean—?"

As you analyzed her carefully, you pulled Ronal by the arm closer to the fire, taking in the indigo hue of her cheeks underneath her ceremonial tattoos, the odd warmth of her body feeling off-putting. The village was in the middle of its monsoon season, temperatures well above hot. Burning, even. But she was on the side of Awa'atlu that stayed cool during the nights. It made no sense that she would be this hot—

"I prepared...I did not see the distinct colors, I should have! Eywa, I made a mistake, I was foolish! I am Tsahìk, I should know better!"

"Ronal! Enough of this blame you lay upon yourself! What happened?"

"I," and for the first time, you could see true fear written on her face, the dread of knowing what to come bringing a deathly pallor against her skin, the contrast to your confusion startling.

"I prepared mowa'syul¹. That pollen, it—"

The mating flower. She grabbed the mating flower.

That thought alone made your body still, both of you now coming to terms with what exactly just happened. The flower itself was not entirely harmful, its leaves being ingested by newly mated couples to help them consummate their union on the night of their bond. But the pollen, known to have devastating effects on any Na'vi who inhaled it, was the issue at hand.

One that neither of you could ignore.

Nor could you escape from its effects.

"...How long do we have?"

Your eyes met the Tsahìk's, her gaze purposefully avoiding yours as she moved to search through baskets again, this time bringing each apparatus towards the firelight for clarity. Watching her rummage frantically, you could slowly see the fear reappear on Ronal's face, just as you felt your body flush with an unusual type of heat.

There was a warmth that ran through you, a slow, tingling, electrifying sensation that moved lower and lower, pooling into your core. You could feel the lower part of your tewng begin to moisten with your slick, the wet heat now starting to present itself. There was a part of you that wanted to satisfy your need right then and there, but you opted for rubbing your thighs together, trying to generate any friction you could to quell your need.

"Ronal..." Your eyes moved up towards the woman in front of you, but the words died in your throat when you saw the state of her. Her tail swaying slowly behind her, Ronal's face was flushed a deep purple, one hand resting on the woven floor behind her for support as the other was between her spread thighs, the sight of her own slick glinting in the firelight. Her fingers rubbed across the sensitive bundle of nerves slowly, each subtle touch making her eyes roll into the back of her head. The sight alone was tantalizing, teasing, and without hesitation you crawled closer, until the Tsahìk finally looked up at you, breathless, warm, inviting, her fingers slowly retracting from their place along her swollen, pink-red folds. The contrast was stark, unsettling for a woman who, just moments ago, feared the effects of the pollen. But not unwelcome.

"Ma Eywa...come here. I need you to satisfy me." The words were not a suggestion. But a command. There was not a fiber in your body that did not hesitate to move at Ronal's words, kneeling just between her legs, one of her hands coming to tangle in your hair, the other guiding your head down closer towards her glistening, wet, heat. Your eyes met hers, asking, begging for permission, as they dropped down to the jewel that caught your eye. Your tongue dragged slowly against the length of her slit, a pair of legs coming to wrap around your neck and pressing harshly at your shoulders as deep, pleasured moans came from above you. Ronal's hands tightened in your hair, their grip a vice as she held on, fighting to maintain control of her voice before the village awoke to the sounds of her pleasure. When the muscle retracted, the Tsahìk whined softly at the cool night air against her throbbing need, pulling your hair in hopes that you would keep going. A small smile graced your lips, a sudden rush of warmth enveloping your heart as you assumed your position earlier, hooking Ronal's legs higher as your tongue resumed its ministrations, across her swollen bud of nerves and in and out of her soaking entrance, your pace quickening in time with your own arousal, the exquisite taste of the woman's fluids bringing you closer and closer to your own climax, without even having to pleasure yourself.

Your tongue dove in and out of Ronal's entrance, her moans increasing in volume and frequency, her nails digging into your shoulders as they held onto you for support, her back arching with each move your tongue made inside of her. Varying pitches of moans and whimpers escaped her lips, one hand flying to her mouth to try and quiet herself down, to no avail. In the cloud of arousal and pleasure that you were giving her, the Tsahìk realized that this was not your first time pleasing a woman in such a way. She had applied ointment many times along your neck and shoulders no less than thrice every few months, the marks of fangs and long, slender fingers being oddly prominent. A bubbling feeling of jealousy began to materialize deep in her stomach, but it was quickly replaced by the oncoming sensation of her climax drawing near.

Quickening the pace, your mouth made quick work of the Tsahìk as her breath came out in short gasps, her release landing right on your face as you brought two fingers up, the want in your chest blooming as you tauntingly licked every drop of her orgasm off of you. You offered Ronal a cunning smile, not once breaking eye contact as you moved back down, letting your tongue wipe every last drop of pure, white fluid left on her folds. You weren't going to rush anything, but the coiling heat drawing up your stomach and circling back down to your core was impossible to ignore.

"Ronal..." The words came out in a whine, pathetic, begging. Your body craved satisfaction, but your mind was hesitant to act on your Tsahìk without permission. She looked down at you, those eyes so full of passion, clouded by the effects of the pollen, her eyes barely able to meet yours. With a short nod, Ronal began to shift, settling the weight of her hair to fall along her back as you gratefully opened your legs to give her entry. She moved with a slow, deliberate grace, showing that even underneath the trance of the mowa'syul, part of her enjoyed the hunger that glinted in your eyes, the wetness of your slick reflecting the light of Naranawm [Polyphemus] as Eclipse settled deeper into the night.

"Look at you, ma Eyktanay. Waiting on my every word. How beautiful you are..." Her hands hooked onto your thighs, pulling you closer, your tail hitting the ground rapidly as your body couldn't contain its excitement any further. Her eyes locked with yours, those sea-blue irises burning a hole into your spirit unlike any of the other women you'd lain with before. That fiery gaze never broke from yours as Ronal dove lower, her tongue finally reaching your sensitive bundle of nerves, the muscle working deftly as your hands nearly tear skin from her scalp. The feeling was different, being pleasured, being beneath your other half as you had sex, the act of leading usually being left to you. But the sensation was welcomed, especially as the Tsahìk moved lower, working her way into your tight, warm entrance. Your walls fluttered and clamped around her tongue, that heat slowly building up in your stomach, threatening to spill.

Feeling your body near its high, Ronal slowly withdrew from her place between your thighs, one hand coming to settle atop your tattoos that traveled down between your legs, the intricate work marking your status and your coming-of-age within the Metkayina. Your hand flew to squeeze hers where it lay, bringing a soft, barely noticeable smirk from the Tsahìk.

"Almost there, ma tanhì [my star]. Let me lead you. Let me make you feel good for a change, there is no rush. We do this my way." The sultry tone that laced Ronal's voice broke you of your stupor temporarily, the realization washing over you, cold, sudden.

She knew what she was doing.

There hadn't been enough pollen to inhale that left an effect like this longer than a few moments. Ronal knew that. Of course she did.

She just needed enough to get you to bend to her will.

"You...you sneaky woman—" Your voice trailed off, turning into a quiet moan as Ronal's fingers brushed over your folds, trailing lower and lower as she massaged each one between her fingers. The hand that lay on your stomach moved down back towards your thigh, each touch sending sparks that ran up and down your spine. The Tsahìk's mouth quickly got back to work between your thighs, until your orgasm washed over your body, bringing a sense of peace with it. She smiled, licking each of your folds to clean the fluids that hadn't already made their way into her mouth, before pressing gentle kisses up into your thighs, trailing up your stomach, onto your chest, pressing many into your neck. Her arms pulling you impossibly closer, the two of you becoming of mess of tangled limbs and sticky fluids, heavy breathing creating the large rises and deep falls of your chest. Neither of you wanted to stop. The night was still young, you had plenty of time.

Besides, the leiokoaktu [elders] always said that the leaders of the clan should be mated.

Or, at least, well-acquainted.

"Next time, just ask if you really wanted me this much, Tsahìk."

"You speak as if I am done." Without warning, Ronal thrusts two fingers into your soaked entrance, their presence a welcome sensation to the burning desire that permeated through your being. She pushed your upper half to lie flat on the woven floor beneath you, the rough fibers not enough to distract you from the pleasure that clouded you mind. Waves of ecstasy rolled over you in tandem with each push of Ronal's fingers deeper inside of you, stretching you over and over, the pain and pleasure making any form of coherence leave your mind. The sound of her moans only grew louder in time with yours, her body having made its way to sit atop your thigh, that beautiful body like a trophy, a prize waiting to be claimed. But before you could claim what belonged to you, your body tensed as your second orgasm washed over you, leaving a mess of you fluids all over Ronal's hand and her floor. She moved with haste, not caring about the mess, pulling you to sit up as her arms wrapped tight around your neck, holding on for support, as if she was afraid to let go. Scared to lose control. But she trusted you, trusted you enough to let you See her, See all of her, powerless, now at your mercy, just as you were at hers moments ago.

"Push your thigh up." Her coarse whisper, just beside your ear, was the only coherent thing your mind could make sense of as she slowly rode your thigh, a thick trail of slick coating the top of your leg as your hands held a tight grip on her waist. Trying to guide Ronal along the wide surface area of your thigh, she moves quickly, giving your hand a light slap before bringing it up to her exposed nipples. The light blue buds stood on their end, begging for stimulation, begging for touch. You brought a hand up to cup her breast, letting one of her nipples rest just between your fingers, enjoying how even the smallest of movements over them elicited a sharp hiss in front of you, the sight hard to resist.

It was obvious that Ronal was wanting to lead, enjoying seeing your face needy, desperate for relief when she was hellbent of taking care of herself first. In time with each movement she made, her syuratan caught the light of Eclipse, shining underneath the thin sheen of sweat that had built up on her forehead.

"So selfish, Ronal. We are supposed to be...taking turns, no?"

"You will get your turn. Only if you are patient. Listen to your Tsahìk, and I will provide." As promised, just before her orgasm came, she used her leg to push your heavily-tattooed thigh out from underneath herself, bringing two of your fingers to rest on her hip. Ronal knew that you knew what she asked of you. It was unspoken between the two of you, a tension that was both charged with challenge and yet light, playful. Sensual. She wanted you to finish what needed to be done. Then, you would get what you wanted.

All over your thigh came her release, sudden, yet long awaited. Your hand retracted immediately from her breasts, moving to clear that precious white fluid off with your fingers, letting Ronal clean them for you diligently. Just as your body moved to sit up properly, the Tsahìk pushed you right back down, spreading your legs wide enough for her body to fit comfortably between them. Her heat pressed against your own, the friction causing both of you to moan in time with one another, welcoming the feeling of pleasure that soared up your spine, making your eyes roll in the back of your head, any noise from you unintelligible. The feeling was better than anything Eywa has blessed you with experiencing before, even better than the other women in the village who begged to have you, simply inflating your ego as you handled them with ease and made them come quick. They left no room for enjoyment, for love to be made, for anything to progress farther than simply sex. Even without making tsaheylu [neural bond/connection], you could feel Ronal, you could See her.

Ronal was a absolute mess, unraveling as she rocked back and forth across your wet folds, pressing as deep as she could, trying to mold the two of you together, intertwined as one, for as long as she could. Neither of you wanted this to end. You could feel it in her every motion, how it felt slower, calculated, encapsulated within the woven walls of her marui. As the dark hue of Eclipse began to give way to hues of warm orange, yellow, and purple, casting long shadows along the many garments and herbs strewn about, the two of you began to quiet down, not wanting the village to hear about the past night their Tsahìk and Eyktanay spent with one another. She kept going, not stopping until she came first, her climax leaving her stuck to you as yours came soon after, in time like the two of you were mates, more than lovers, more than two unfortunate souls that were in a bad situation at the wrong time.

Though, neither of you would ever consider it a bad situation. Rather, the will of Eywa herself.

The last of the mowa'syul pollen was slowly leaving your system, Ronal could tell. Your pupils were less dilated, your head clearer, your gaze more focused. The realization of the night you just had dawned over you, washing your face in a sickly pallor that contrasted deeply with the bright purple bruised shaped in the form of handprints and teeth marks, strangely. The Tsahìk moved to gather your discard tewng and spear, handing them to you without a word, but rather offering you a quiet smile. A silent token of her apology for everything last night.

"Do not apologize, Ronal." Tying two simple bows at the midle of your hips, you secured the seagrass textured tewng around your body, making sure your necklaces and earrings were turned in their proper positions. As you slowly became coherent, you realized that lying with the Tsahìk was not bad, not something to be ashamed of. "Even if it was just the pollen, I cannot lie and say I would ever want to forget this night."

"Then we should do it again. As many times as you would like."

Her response was immediate, no hesitation anywhere between the two of you. Moving to stand, you give Ronal a small smirk over your shoulder, until the soreness of the entire day and night hits your body like a tidal wave. Clutching onto your spear for support, you fall to a knee, a hand flying to your ribs as the aches flare, the other woman immediately rushing to your side.

"What is wrong? Let me help you, tell me what you need. Breathe through the pain first."

As best you could, you muster a dry laugh, looking at the concern swimming in Ronal's pale blue irises, mimicking the ocean just outside of her home.

"Now would be the perfect time for those herbs I wanted last night. Just...make sure to grab the right one this time."

Ronal scoffs, hitting your shoulder gently as she retrieved some paywll in a small pouch that could sit on your wrist as you walked. Pressing one last kiss to your cheek. After helping you step down onto the woven walkways within Awa'atlu, she stood at the entrance of her marui, waiting until you disappeared in the growing bustle of Metkayina Na'vi as their lives began in a another day, no one knowing how much hers had changed beneath the stars.

When Tonowari asked you about your bruises later, after a meeting with the elders to discuss, of all topics, potential mating alliances between other reef clans, you simply shrug him off, not wanting to go into detail.

"Let us just agree, Olo'eyktan, that you and I should just go on a few more of those patrolling trips."

── ⋆.˚✾

thank you for reading! let me know if you enjoyed! comments and reblogs are appreciated <3

— taglist: @smuttyjane @xilaze @scarhein @tigerpetals @corabrown19 @pookiecookie2 @yukichan67

1 — i combined the na'vi words 'mowan,' meaning sexually pleasing, and 'syulang,' meaning flower. there wasn't any flower that resembled the leaves of the daphophet pods (AFOP REFERENCEEEEEE), so i decided to make my own yay

sorry if this is kinda weird, i have no experience with sex whatsoever but women turn me on🤤 rushed ahh ending too cause if i didn't end it this would LITERALLY go on forever i love mommy ronal

taglist | masterlist | ask box | rules for requests

[pokutian]

i need more quarjake....

[xblu-jay]

[neteyamswillow]

Between the Seams

⫘ kinkmas day six; ◟ thigh fucking ! ◝ quaritch x f!reader

Pairing: Miles Quaritch x (f) Na’vi reader

Warnings: thigh-gap fucking, non-con, captivity, restraints, interrogation, strong language, degradation, implied threats of sexual violence.

Dictionary: kehe = no

rutxe = please

Note: sorry that I missed day five :(( I accidentally deleted it and didn’t have the motivation to rewrite it. I’ll find time to rectify that soon I promise 😩

Tagging: @neteyamsyawntu @pandoraslxna @neteyamsoare @neteyamyawne @luvv4j4ybe11 @loaksulluyswife @zafrinaxyz @beautiful-brown-skin-05 @plooto

Credits: @saradika for the snowflake & mdni/support banners!

‘C’mon, doll. Spit it out.’ Quaritch drools through clenched fangs, his thick cock stiff and heavy between your thighs. He’s got your lithe legs hooked over his broad shoulders, your ass pressed against his groin while his fingers bite into your hips.

You hiss at him, eyes wide and fearful. You’d exhausted your ability to wiggle free from him; in that you couldn’t. Tried and failed. He’s a strong bastard. Scarily strong. You snarl, your head thudding back onto his mattress. He snaps his hips forward impatiently, his dick dragging along your cunt so the swollen head of him sits atop your naval. ‘Give it up, kid.’

You huff, squirming against him when you attempt to yank your wrists from his belt which binds you to his headboard. ‘Kehe.’ his expression darkens at that, his eyes bitter and harsh as they glare down at you. He thrusts into the narrow gap between your thighs again, his swollen cockhead trickling a trail of pre-cum from your belly button to your virgin mound every time he retracts.

‘Won’t like what I’ll do if ya don’t, lil’ one.’ he threatens, fucking his cock harshly between your clenched thighs. You growl, teeth gritted as you challenge him with tense eye contact. His pupils are blown, his lips parted and nose crinkled up. Quaritch curls his fingers into your hips, cutting his nails into the plump flesh. ‘Fucking c’mon, bitch.’ he sneers, spitting the words like venom. You feel his words burn your skin like acid rain and you scowl at him. ‘Kehe!’

His nostrils flare at your disobedience. ‘Tell me where Jake Sully is, and I’ll go gentle. Refuse, and I’ll fuck this pretty pussy so hard that it fucking splits open.’ your ears stoop at the mental image, your thighs absentmindedly closing tighter around his throbbing cock. ‘I’ll rip you in half, kid. I’ll hurt ya.’

You flash your fangs at him in wordless response, your ears bent back and pupils narrowed into feline slits. ‘Doesn’t matter much t’me, doll face.’ he drawls, still maintaining a rough pace between your clamped thighs. ‘Either way I get off in that tight cunt of yours. I’ll ruin ya; you’ll never fucking walk again once I’m done.’

‘F- fuck you.’ you manage to muster, your English broken and voice unsure. He smirks, his ears pricking as he fucks himself into your pretty thighs. ‘I’ll consider it if ya tell me where Sully is.’

You sigh, squeezing your thighs around his cock in the hopes it’ll hurt. ‘Kehe...’ you repeat for the millionth time since he forcefully whisked you into his quarters. Quaritch chuckles grimly, his expression drunkenly wild. A frightening sight. ‘Oh, fine. Looks like I’ll get what I want anyway - Sully, or you.’

You shoot him a pleading look as tears gather, your ears tipped back so they disappear amongst your black hair. ‘Kehe, rutxe!’ he grins down at you and you’ve never been more disturbed by something so sinister. ‘You’re in for a long night, kid.’

You whimper, shaking your head. He’s still thrusting himself into the non-existent crevice of your closed thighs, snug and secure.

‘Brought this upon yourself, girl.’

[snoobertos]

idk what to post

[pragerism]

footballer prager idk

[whoeverbeatmetotheusername]

I feel like I haven’t posted anything in a decade so I’d like to provide anyone who is unlucky enough to stumble upon this post with another question:

Do the recoms have their own specialised clothing and accessories? How big would stuff like toothbrushes and shoes be to regular humans?

I do like the thought of the recoms stuff from their lives as humans being kept in some kind of storage only for them to realise that “Shit, none of this fits us.”

Like, for Walker and Prager, did they randomly just stumble upon a washcloth or something and go, “Wow, this would make a bloody magnificent bandanna.”

[clutchtramatic]

Seems like sumthin’ his old ass would do while ranting about not trusting the cloud. (Uncensored version on my Twitter.)