#bottle of fermented fruit
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A bit of drunk Ralak i’ve drawn recently👌🏻 Quote belongs to @tiredmamaissy, check out her impeccable work❤️
Please accept my kind offer, thank you🙇🏻♀️
#avatar the way of water#na’vi#na’vi oc#na’vi art#metkayina#digital art#sfw little post#for now#bottle of fermented fruit#ralak#the#not#so#gentle#atm#giant#atwow fanart#art
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i cannot stop thinking about the alcohol world
#if you ever wanna buy gurgaon is the best place you'll get 2.5k bottle in 1.2k and 10k bottle in 7k atleast#but thinking about humans clinging onto this mode of escapism right from wherever we have history from#madiralaya by harivansh rai bachhan#and how they've invented not just once various methods to rot away fruits over and over#how its such a prosperous market#how i touched each and every bottle at that supermarket thingy which is fun to say hey we have supermarket for alcohol#because i didn't know you only go to shops and purchase they don't let you touch#im being emo over alcohol can you imagine#it was like touching the past somebody decided to ferment grapes 15 years ago that are being sold now#wow
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Just tasted my boyfriend's homemade mead. Not bad actually, considering I have no taste for anything other than sweet wine 👍🏻
#he'll adjust the recipe to make it more aromatic in the future#this one has cinnamon and lemon#and cloves#there's still two bottles waiting to finish fermentation (these ones have passion fruit)
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If you are buying fruits and veg from green grocer/ grocery warehouse to do some preserving, make sure they are not ‘coated’. There are several ways to remove some of it (short of removing all peels). You really need to remove this coating for a healthier food whether fresh or preserving. Watch how you wash the fruit or veg if you plan to ferment as some washes will reduce/prohibit fermentation,
#winter pantry#frugal living#preserving food#fruits and veg#coated fruits and veg#canning#bottling#dehydrating#pickling#fermentation
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Ralak te Sepwan ieyk’itan: Chapter Five
An Illustrated Collaboration with @zestys-stuff
Masterlist ; Rut/Heat/Knotting Info
🔞 minors, do not interact 🔞
Hyperlinks are attached to specific paragraphs that when clicked on will lead you to its illustration by Ralak's creator @zestys-stuff.
Characters: Metkayina!Ralak (24) x Sully!Omaticaya!Reader (19)
Warnings: nsfw, smut, fluff, profanity, age gap, size difference/kink, praise kink, breeding kink, alcohol consumption, tattooing, blood, sexual tension, masturbation, fingering, p in v, mating/bonding, mentions of knotting, let me know if I forgot anything?
Word Count: 11.3k (i know i said it wouldn't be long, i'm so sorry i literally do not have an excuse)
Requested: Yes || No
Author’s Note: Cheers to the final chapter of this series, guys. Thanks for coming along for the journey! 🤍🤍
Synopsis: Your family seeks uturu with the Metkayina in the village of Awa’atlu. You have a difficult time adjusting, and are assigned your own special teacher, Ralak.
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When he finished the bottle, he was woozy enough to crawl back into bed with you and snuggle behind you. His eyes finally closed when the first rays of sunshine beamed through the marui pod, shining on your face – waking you up.
----
The heavy, quick thump of your heart pounds in your ears, drowning out the waves that crash onto the shore outside your marui. Whilst the first rays of sunlight shine on your face, heating it up and making your eyelids flutter. Smacking your dry tongue against the roof of your mouth, the need for water becomes exigent.
You try to swallow whatever saliva you could pool in your cheeks, but it’s not nearly enough to clear the dryness of your throat. Looking to your left, you see Ralak sleeping soundly, head propped up on his makeshift bedhead with a hand resting on your inner thigh. He fell asleep mid-checking on you, wooziness of the fermented fruit getting the best of him.
As you sit up slowly, the soreness of your pelvis becomes undeniable. You take your time scooting back, leaning into the headboard as you catch your breath. Everything feels delayed, like pandora is spinning at an even slower pace. And that’s when the headache hits. Like you had just gotten in the middle of herd of stampeding 'angtsìk (hammerhead titanotheres).
You groan, ball of your palm rubbing a tight circle into your pulsing temple. A gust of wind blows the flap of your marui open, prickling your skin from the coolness of it. You feel your nipples harden into peaks on your chest, a hand quickly moving to cover them.
Oh.
Ralak had taken your iknimaya top off sometime during your sleep and hung it by the entrance of your marui to dry. It’s blood red leaves make a rustling noise as the draught of wind breezes through them, little rays of sunlight shining through the slivers of space.
Gently removing his hand from your thigh, you get out of the bed and make your way over to the swaying top. There’s a wobble in your step, dizziness swirling in your head making it hard to walk straight. When you finally get your hands on the top, you contemplate whether you should even put it on or not.
“As much as I love seeing you with nothing on...” A raspy voice startles you as two large hands slide down the sides of your waist, “...I love the way you look in that.” Ralak nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck, rubbing his nose into the suppleness of your skin. “So, take care of it.” He mumbles, pressing his warm body against you. “And if you are cold... come back to bed.”
Is this my Ralak? You think, turning around to confirm if this talkative man is indeed your mate.
And that’s when you see that inebriated stare – the same gaze he had during his flashback a little over a week ago. Except, this time there’s a smug look to his face, corner of his lip curling upwards into a smirk. When you inspect a little further, you see the darkness under his eyes and the dampness of his hair.
“Lak. How long did you sleep? Are you–” You lean in to get a whiff of him, only to regret it a second later. “Eywa.” You mumble, looking at the shelf behind him to see the empty bottle of pxir. “Did you finish that last night? By yourself?”
“Mmm. Perhaps.” He hums, curving his back to snuzzle into your neck once more, snaking his arms around your waist to pull you in close.
“I see. So, it takes a bottle of pxir to get you to talk, hm? What else does a bottle of pxir do to you?” You tease, hand smoothing over his morning bulge, hard as rock and sheathed.
“Ah, tanhì. I am not that drunk.” He reaches behind you to retrieve the top. “...I would not do that before you are healed.” He pulls away from you, “I hurt you last night.” His voice falters as he slips the top over your head, securing the back with a quick knot.
You click your tongue against the roof of your mouth, purse your lips and shake your head. “Is that why you couldn’t sleep? Kept drinking? Ralak. I’m fine. Really.” You cup his cheek, trying to show him the sincerity in your eyes.
“I gave your father my word.” He utters, breaking eye contact.
Brows pinching in confusion, you tilt your head to try look him in the eye. “Your word?”
He finally lifts his gaze to meet yours. “To never let anything happen to you.”
For a moment, you feel those butterflies in your stomach, fluttering away like they did the first day you laid eyes on this man. It’s sweet. Seeing such a big, strong man feel this way over a little blood. Because that’s what it was – just a little blood. Surely, other na’vi experience something similar during their first time, too. You move your hand to cover your mouth, feeling a scoff making its way up your throat.
“Pfft. So that’s what you two were talking about?” You ask with raised brows, and when they pinch together you let out a chuckle. “You were trying to fuck me, not kill me Lak.” You jester, but he didn’t find it as funny as you did, glaring down at you with a deadpan expression.
“Look, I wanted it. I still want it.” You grip his jawbone, pulling him in to look at you in the eye. “And I feel fine now.” You tell a white lie, hoping to make this gentle giant feel better.
He shakes his head, letting out a long sigh. “No. You do not. You still smell... wounded.” He utters the last word with a wince. “And I have been checking.”
Nothing gets past this man. Not when he has mastered the ability to tune into his body and all his senses. You gnaw on your bottom lip, little pointed canines nicking the thin flesh. The metallic taste of blood floods your tongue, setting off a spark in your brain. You scan his bare, sinewy torso and catch sight of his shoulder. Taking a quick breath in, you understand what he means by a ‘wounded’ scent.
“Well, I hurt you too. So, we’re even. Okay?” You insist, hand grazing over the scabbed-up bite mark on his shoulder.
He cocks his brow and scoffs, quickly glancing at the dark red indentations before looking back down at you like you just told the joke of the century. “That little scratch?”
Your drop your hand from his jaw and straighten your smile, mirroring his blank expression from earlier. Ralak and his word infamous word ‘scratch’. And most importantly, why didn’t he find your actual joke funny? Maybe you should make the best of this situation, then. Your eyes become beady, peering at him with limited vision.
“Fine. You hurt me.” You state, shrugging your shoulders a bit. His brows exchange a peck, ears twitching and jaw clenching. Hearing the confirmatory words made his heart sink. “But there is one thing you can do to make it up to me.”
You walk behind him towards the shelf of different sized and coloured bottles – some dusty, some not – and grab the fullest one. When you spin around, he has the guiltiest expression on his face, prepared to do anything to remedy the situation. It almost makes you want to stop with your little scheme and cradle him close into your bosom until he knows it’s okay. But not after his little scoff.
“My tattoo.” You sing, voiced feigned with innocence.
He exhales a sigh, smile slowly creeping up on his face once he’s figured you out. “Alright, little one.” He chuckles, stretching over you to grab the drinking bowl from the top shelf – far out your reach. He plunks it into your hand and takes the bottle from your grasp, popping it open with his back-teeth. With a few glugs your cup is full, prompting him to nudge it to your lips.
“You drink. I get everything ready.” He says before turning his heel to walk out of the marui pod. As he’s lifting the flap to the door, he projects his voice, “It will help with your head.”
It feels like an eternity since Ralak left, leaving you with nothing but you and this drink. You rotate the cup, whirling the iridescent colours of the pxir. It smells much better than the bottle you shared last night, and tastes better too.
It’s sweeter, with a slight bitter aftertaste. You knock it back as if it were a medicinal concoction that your grandmother gave to you, wincing as the burn trails down your throat. You let out an ah and lay back into the cot, waiting for Ralak’s return. It’s been almost an hour now, and yet –
Still no Ralak.
You get up with a huff, pacing around the marui as you fidget with your thumbs. The nerves are setting in knowing that you’re about to get your first tattoo. But what makes it worse is where you’re getting this damn tattoo. Anxious – and thirsty – you pour yourself another cup, downing it in one go. Then another. And another.
At this point, it’s got no aftertaste at all. Just pure sweetness.
Once you swallow and go to put the cup down for good, you see Ralak standing by the marui door, hands above his head holding onto the stilt. It’s as if he were there watching you, waiting patiently for you to become aware his presence.
Unclothed and exposed right in front of your eyes.
The same drunken eyes peer back at you, ocean blue with a glint of gold, slightly lidded and glazed with something deeper than just lust. He stares at you longingly, wet hair plastered to his chest, right between his erect nipples. The more your gaze trails down his body, the more you realise how strong this man really is.
Each dip and ridge of his muscular physique is on full display, crossed ribs protruding from the stretched position he’s assuming. It’s like he’s posing like this just to... tease you. Because when you wonder down a little further, counting the stripes of that tattoo, he clears his throat. Loud. As if to say, ‘eyes up here’.
No sort of grating noise could avert your gaze from this. His cock.
Its thick. Veiny. So heavy that it hangs down, resting against his thigh. His balls stay firm underneath it, sides of them barely peeking out around his girth. His head is barely sheathed, just the tip poking out – glistening with a tiny bead of precum. You swallow the saliva pooling in your mouth, reminding yourself to breathe.
“See something you like?” His voice is deep and gruff, hands falling from the stilt to his sides.
“Mmm. Perhaps.” You repeat his words from earlier in a similar tone of voice.
“Ah.” He says with a slight smirk, bending down to reach for the small woven basket. “Is that so?”
“Mhm.” You hum, smile growing wider as he approaches you.
At this point, you’re all woozy in the head – bubbly yet heavy. Your shoulders bow, weight of your body increasing as the minutes pass. And soon your eyes are so lidded that you can barely see the man in front of you. Letting out a slow breath, you blink lethargically, leaning in to see what’s in the basket.
“Been a good girl for me, I see.” Ralak husks, observing your less than sober state.
“Only because you took so long.” You retort, hand darting to grab onto his bicep for support.
Hand missing his arm entirely, you lose your balance and start stumbling towards the basket. He catches you, body slumping into his as he steadies you. He takes a quick glance over to the half empty bottle on the shelf, before looking back down at you with wide eyes and a growing smirk.
“Well, my little rou tanhi [drunk freckle/star]. I had to hunt for squid, didn’t I?” He says, dipping his hand into the basket to retrieve the squids’ ink sac.
“That’s – that’s what you’re putting inside my skin?” You hiccup, examining the black, blubbery sac. It looks like a vein, with a more bulbous end.
Ralak nods as he moves quickly, setting up the area as best and clean as he can. He pulls out two low stools from the corner of his marui. Laying a thin cloth over one stool, he carefully places the delicate ink sac on it, reaching back into the basket to retrieve the other items.
Sitting on the other stool, he pulls out a bowl, blackened by the ink from his own tattoo, and a wooden tool. It’s lengthy, with the bone-white tooth of a skimwing lodged into it. Their teeth are needle-like, piercing the skin with ease and precision. Using the tooth, he pierces the ink sac and pours all the contents into the stained bowl.
“Where?” Ralak asks nonchalantly, taking out a similar tool, without the pointed end.
You close the distance between you two, resting a hand on his shoulder and pushing your crotch into his face. His head snaps up, eyes directly in front of... you. Your exposed skin. Your soft folds, touching one another to hide your clit. His eyes widen a bit, gaze coming to a standstill to take it all in.
“See something you like?” You giggle, breaking him out of his trance.
He swallows thickly, eyelids fluttering as he tries to peel his eyes away from such a... delectable sight. They trail up your body, lingering at your crimson-coloured top, before landing on your downward gaze. He cocks a brow inquisitively, quickly glancing back down to your bare pelvis before locking eyes with you once more.
Ralak places a gentle hand on your lower abdomen, “Here?”
You smile, nodding your head slowly. “Just like yours.” You say quietly, hand momentarily lifting from his shoulder to tie his hair into a loose, messy bun. “Exactly... like yours.”
It’s the way you said the words that sent a shiver down his spine. He tries to fight the curl of his lips, denying himself the pleasure from you wanting a tattoo just like his. There’s something about you with a matching tattoo that makes him feel loved, special – horny.
“Are you sure, tanhì?” He asks through a low, steady voice, peering up at you achingly.
“Yes. It is special to me.” You gulp, nodding slightly. “To us. To mark the beginning of our life together.”
He gives you a firm nod, dropping his head to smile his growing, beaming smile. Hand falling from your abdomen, he fetches a small cloth and a jelly-like substance from the basket. Your stomach tenses when he smears the cold substance on your skin, rubbing it in until it evaporates.
After cleaning the area, he readies himself with the pointed tool, dipping the needle-like tooth into the bowl of ink. Barely grazing the skin, he traces out the design of the tattoo on your skin, providing himself with a pattern to tattoo with precision. That alone hurt.
“Wait. I-I need more.” You say quickly, voice laced with anxiety.
Ralak takes a glimpse at the nearly empty bottle on the shelf and continues with his task. “Give it more time.” He mutters, dipping the pointed-tip of the tooth into the ink, positioning it carefully over the pattern.
Tip of the needle hovering a millimetre away from your deep blue skin, he waits patiently for your body to tell him to start. After a few moments, he senses you relaxing, taking it at his cue to start the process. With the end of the blunt tool, he taps the end of the pointed tool, penetrating your top of skin with the tooth.
Ralak’s gazes snaps up to yours as soon as he removes the needle, “hurts?”
The sting is barely noticeable, feeling more like heat than pain. You shake your head with a wobbly smile and tighten your grip on his shoulder. He continues with the tattoo, piercing your skin continuously until your little nails sink so deep into his skin it draws a little blood.
“Sorry.” You utter out a strained apology, realizing you’ve practically mutilated both shoulders now.
He lets out a deep chuckle, shaking his head a bit as he pricks you once more, gently blowing on your reddened skin. The cool air helps a bit, but at this point, it’s welted and raised – stained with a sheer layer of blood. He’s only just finished one of the 6 stripes on the left side of your navel, and the first eclipse is already starting. Resting your free hand on your hip, you take a few deliberate breaths, doing your best to slow your galloping heart.
It’s such an intimate, overwhelming experience.
“A break? With some more pxir, yes?” He suggests, already putting down the tattooing tool.
“Yes... please.” You groan with trembling lungs, legs going all wobbly from how long you’ve been standing.
You go to lay down on the cot, spreading your legs just enough for him to see. He tries his best not to look, immediately dropping his head and fixating his gaze onto his darkened fingertips. But with a little, filthy moan of ‘pain’, his gaze flies up, landing right where you want it to.
Legs spreading a little more, he becomes mesmerized by the little show you’re putting on for him. He stares through lidded eyes that become glossy with greed and desire. Like he wants to pin them down and devour you on the spot. He huffs out a sigh, reluctantly slamming his eyes shut, denying himself the pleasure.
“Tanhì. Do not tempt me. You now have two wounds to heal from.” Ralak utters the words in a low voice.
Oh, right. Choosing to have your tattoo in this particular spot would definitely make things... a bit more painful. You close your legs, accepting your failed attempt to seduce your mate and lie back into the soft pillow. The ceiling is spinning, but not nearly as fast as it should be for this tortuous process to be over with.
Rolling your head to the side, you look at Ralak, whose eyes are still closed. “Lak.” You whisper, prompting him to look at you. “I could use more pxir now.”
Ralak stands up and walks over to the shelf and retrieves the bottle. He pours the rest of it into two cups, one for him and one for you. Handing you your drink, he sits next to you on the bed, resting his hand on your inner thigh. You sit up and take the cup, chugging it before he can even put his to his lips.
“Another.” You mumble, handing him back the empty cup.
“Easy, my paysyul.” He chuckles, pouring you another drink.
----
It’s been a week since you got your first tattoo, which took two days to complete, leaving you dumbfounded at how Ralak was able to tattoo himself. Since, you’ve not only added three beads to your songchord, but also a piece of the cork from the bottle you shared after your... eventful first time together.
You had pretty much healed three days after your iknimaya night, but your tattoo remains irritated. Nothing you couldn’t handle, just a little inflammation with an itch you couldn’t quite scratch. Not when Ralak’s watching, at least. He’d be quick to shoot you a scowl, instilling some level of obedience in your little, defiant body.
Despite his continuous repudiation of your attempts to become intimate, he would do his nightly... examinations. Insisting that you still smelled ‘wounded’, he’d spread your legs during your slumber and ‘check on you’. Or maybe it was more so to check you out. To see your plump folds and the way your little nub peeks out between them.
Sometimes he’d let his gaze linger a little too long to be considered an act of benevolence. But rather, an act of greed and lust. But he just couldn’t help it, you look so... perfect. So untouched. Soft and supple. Like silk under his calloused touch. It’s maddening, taking everything in him to look away and close your legs.
Truth be told, he was unsure of what he was really looking for, all he was going from was your scent. He knew it was radiating from this specific area, and truly didn’t want to take any chances and accept your advances if you weren’t fully healed and ready. At that point, you had just accepted the way things were and let him get along with whatever he needed to do to feel better.
And you’d pretend to be asleep, enjoying whatever little touch you could get from him.
Other than that, Ralak has been nothing but sweet and patient with you, as he usually is. Bringing you breakfast in bed was one of his favourite things to do, other than cooking the meal itself. Meticulously diced fruits and freshly caught fish, plated perfectly, and presented by the chef himself – in all his naked glory.
That was another thing.
After mating, Ralak seemed to have lost his tewng [loincloth] altogether. Always walking around with nothing but maybe his cumberband or chest piece. At first, it was fun and tempting, putting a shy smirk on your face whenever you’d see his heavy cock laying freely between his thighs. But now, it’s just downright torment – teasing at its finest.
No matter how many times you ‘accidentally’ flashed him, bent over a little too much, or just straight up went naked too, he would continue with the task at hand, completely unbothered. You could look, but you couldn’t touch. Until you grew so fed up when you saw him in the most torturous pose of them all.
Until tonight.
----
Ralak sits comfortably on his knees in the soft, wet sand, sharpening the point of his spear. He’s so focused on his task that he doesn’t even realize your stare, nor the little strand of curly hair in the centre of his forehead. Even kneeling, this giant remains... a giant. Thick and burly, muscular physique defined from the way the last rays of sunshine on his skin.
His freckles twinkle, darker blue swirled and striped patterns moving with how his muscles tighten and untighten as he presses the waterstone against the blade. Every now and then he would dip the stone into the water to rewet it.
You watch him intently, counting the number of times he rewets the waterstone. How many times he swipes the blade. How many abs pop out as he leans further back to get a better look at the entire length of the spear. How many stripes in that tattoo that started it all. All of which, turn out the be the same number.
Six.
And once you got to the sixth stripe, your eyes trail down its length, catching sight of the singular dot right at the base of his cock. Swallowing the excessive saliva pooling in your mouth, your lidded gaze pierces into him, taking in every small detail of his cock. Barely sheathed. Thick. Slightly veiny and darker towards the glossy tip.
Then, he chucks the spears over his shoulder as if they were little twigs back from hometree, making a clunking noise so loud you couldn’t help but avert your piercing gaze upwards. You bite your lip from the motion, so touch deprived you begin to fantasize about being his little vultsyìp [stick; branch] again, draped over on his shoulder as he carries you back up to the marui.
Yet he remains focused on anything but you, trying his upmost best to maintain what sliver of composure you allow him to have left. The restraint is visibly plastered on his face – gathered brows and a tensed jaw. You slide a hand behind your back, untying the knot of your loincloth, allowing it to drop to your feet.
“Mind having a look? It’s a little itchy.” You ask, voice feigned with innocence.
His concerned gaze snaps up to your tattoo, eyes darting in all directions to scan the inking properly. After seeing that it’s just fine, his features soften upon realizing what you were actually doing. “Looks fine.” He mutters, eyelids fluttering a few times, landing his gaze upon yours.
And when you meet his ocean blue eyes, you swear they lustre over with something of wanton – of greed. Silently telling you how badly he wants to pin you down into the sand and slide himself inside you. To fill up your little body with every single inch of himself, until you’re moaning nothing but his name. You can feel the flutter of your stomach – excitement from thinking your attempt at seducing this overly-patient giant was finally a success.
Then he looks away.
As if he didn’t just fuck you with his eyes. As if he didn’t just worsen the sexual tension that’s been brewing between you two for over the past week, and honestly – few months. Eywa, that makes you frustrated. Fuck – no, it makes you angry. So upset to the point you huff out a ‘hmmph’ and walk away to prepare yourself for an early bed.
“Tanhì!” Ralak shouts after you, shuffling to his feet with the spears still on his shoulder. “Y/n!”
You ignore his calls, storming up to the marui pod. You sit on the end of the bed, face buried in your hands as you try to calm down. But the more you sit here, the bigger the flame grows in your chest. It’s obvious that you’re ready to try again, yet he’s blatantly ignoring your advances. At this point, you may have to try and pleasure yourself.
Keyword being ‘try’.
You’d never been able to make yourself feel all that great, let alone cum. But at this rate it seems like you have no other choice. That’s it. You’ll make yourself cum. No need for him, right? Right. You knew Ralak wouldn’t follow you when you’re this upset. He’d let you come to him when ‘you’re ready’, rather than invading your personal space.
You hype yourself up, lying flat on your back and closing your eyes. You allow for your wandering hands to barely graze your body, hardening your nipples into peaks almost instantly. Parting the red leaves of your top, you expose your breasts, thumbs giving them both a flick.
Listen to your body. Ralak’s voice echoes in your mind – an intrusive memory resurfacing all on its own.
Rather than scaring you, his voice arouses you, back bowing against the bed in response. A hand slips down your stomach, finding comfort between your thighs. You squeeze your hand with your thighs, fingers pressing into the softness of your folds. You let out a breathy, soft moan, tips of your digits now parting your pussy lips.
The cool air hits your exposed bundle of nerves, having you clench around nothingness. Pressing the pads of four fingers onto your sensitive nub, you rub slow, loose circles into it. Little shocks travel through you in jolts, spasming your thigh muscles. It feels like too much, but not enough all together.
You grunt, level of frustration doubling by the second. Dipping into your core, you slicken your fingertips, gliding them back up to your clit. You try tighter, faster circles, and apply a little less pressure this time. And fuck, did that make a difference. The wetness of your fingers had them gliding effortlessly over that little nub, making it stiffen beneath your fingertips.
Head sinking into the softness of his makeshift pillows, your mouth hangs agape, breathy moans losing their softness and turning into little mewls and whines. Your hips lift off the bed, chasing your building orgasm. You try to zero in on the feeling, but it feels so weird, but oh-so fucking good at the same time. It’s almost like the flame in your chest spread throughout your body – heat pooling in your core.
“What are you doing?” A thick, accented voice pierces the air, gruff and monotonous.
You’re too into the moment to stop – to even bat an eye. You can hear your mate’s voice, but what you’re doing feels so good that you can’t even tell if it’s just another intrusive thought or if its real. You feel your toes curl, hand working even faster as your stomach muscles tense up. You’re so, so close.
And Ralak could tell.
He stands there, beads of water from the ocean rolling off his body, dripping through the cracks of the woven marui floor. Hair plastered to his chest; he stares at the sight unfolding in front of him through lidded eyes. He grits his teeth to hold his tongue, but he couldn’t deny the way seeing you do this to yourself makes him feel.
Aroused. Frustrated. Jealous. Possessive.
“I said. What are you doing?” Ralak growls low in his chest, thick fingers gripping your wrist to put a stop to your frantic movements.
“No. Don’t.” You huff out, fighting his grasp to pick up the pace of your fingers. “Trying to – fuck. Trying to c-cum!”
“I can see that. But why?” He asks through another growl, letting go of your wrist.
“’c-cause – ‘cause you’ve given me no other choice! You won’t even – haah ah – you won’t even touch me, Lak!” You whine loudly, desperately trying to re-establish the perfect movements and pace you had before.
Ralak does nothing but stand stock-still for a few moments, watching his numeyu [student] work hard to make herself cum for the first time. Pride swells his chest, seeing you so close – yet so far away. And for a second, a pang of pity clenches his heart, brows creasing as he watches you squirm about. Has he really been that distant? Distant enough to make you resort to self-pleasure when you have a perfectly capable mate right here?
“Touch you, hm?” He hums lowly, resting his hand on your sweaty thigh, “like this?”
“N-No. Y-You know what I want.” You barely sputter out, shaking your head side to side.
“Say it. Say the words.” He growls, fingertips sinking into your skin.
“Oh. Please, Lak. Please touch me. It’s been too long!” A frustrated, desperate groan falls from your lips, legs snapping wide open.
His eyes widen at the sight of you so vulnerable and exposed; puffy, glistening clit on full display. Gaze flying up to yours, he sees the utter state of desperation plastered all over your face. You already look so fucked out, brows pinched, and lips parted – eyes so lidded he can barely see the glint of gold in them.
“Here?” He breathes, sliding his hand up your thigh and barely brushing his three fingers against your sticky clit.
“Mmm – please.” You pant, grabbing his wrist to position his hand properly. “Right h-here.”
“Ah.” Ralak finally takes a seat on the edge of the cot, eyes fixed on your carnal expression. He presses right into the bundle of nerves, sending a jolt through your legs. “And what next, my numeyu?”
Grip tightening around his wrist, you move his hand erratically, hips moving along with it. You hear the click of his tongue and look up to see the slight shake of his head and curl of his lips. That same smug face he makes when you’re not quite getting something right.
“Karyu. [teacher]” You moan softly, doe eyes peering up into his, lashes fluttering as you blink repeatedly.
His brows jump at the word. It’s been a while since he’s heard it fall from your lips. Your flushed, swollen lips. He looks back up to your little fucked out eyes, glossy with tears and want. He hates to see you cry but for some reason the tears you’re fighting back are only making him hornier. Is that how bad you want his cock? Bad enough to cry about it? His hung cock springs from his thigh, jumping up to slap his stomach.
“Must your karyu teach you how to cum again?” Ralak growls, sliding a finger down to your slickened entrance. “Hm? Were our lessons not enough?” All you can do is mewl and claw at his wrist, lolling your head from side to side. “Answer me.” He says roughly, prodding at your hole with very tip of his digit.
“Yes! Fuck – yes. Please, t-teach me.” You beg breathily, rolling your hips down onto his single digit. Having one last, quick glance between your legs, he clenches his jaw as he slides his finger inside you. And when it comes to a hilt, a moan of relief evades your agape mouth, head sinking back into the soft pillow.
For a fleeting moment, he remains completely still, ensuring that you’re alright. Ralak stares at you, eyes darting in all directions to detect even a hint of pain etched into your features. A brow jumps when he realises that all you’re feeling is pure ecstasy. Taking this as his cue to continue, he pulls his finger back a bit, lining it up with the gummy part of your heat.
“If you want to cum...” He roughly curls his finger, applying a blissful pressure to your sweet spot, earning him a sudden whine from your lips, “...you touch right here. Understood?”
“Mhm. Mhm.” You frantically nod as you hum the words, feeling an itchy feeling brew in your core. You need to scratch it. So. Fucking. Bad. And his finger just isn’t enough. “Mh – more!”
“More?” He smirks, swiping his thumb over your clit. “Like that?” His voice is gruff, and anything but innocent. Like he takes joy in seeing you in such a desperate, needy state. “Or is it her –”
“For the love of Eywa, Ralak. Just fuck me, please!” You cry out, tears now rolling down your cheeks. If he didn’t take care of you now, you’d just lose it. He lets loose a loud chuckle, predatory gaze boring into your innocence. As if your little pleas and begs were entertaining him – getting him off.
“Take all three, then I think about it.” He teases with a cocked brow, pulling out of you tenderly to realign two digits at your opening.
“Y-Yes – Just, hurry Lak.” You whine, tugging at his wrist to sink his fingers inside you. “Oh, shit.” You exhale a sigh of relief. The stretch is divine, filling you up and just barely scratching that itch. To have his two thick fingers buried inside you is like ice on a burn, soothing all your pent-up frustration.
Ralak groans at the way you’re squeezing his digits, pussy so soaked they slip in and out with ease. As badly as he wants to let you know you’re being such a good girl for him, he decides to hold his praise for the bigger stretch. His last finger. Waiting patiently for your body to tell him you’re ready, he uses his free hand to massage your clit.
He fingers you roughly, pussy walls clenching and unclenching around him, telling him to go even deeper inside. Your whole-body squirms around, hips stuttering from your unadulterated desperation. The little, sweet cries and mewls escaping your lips are like music to his ears, sinking him deeper into his state of arousal.
Ralak situates himself between your legs, preparing you for the next stetch. Last time, you took it well, and perhaps if you hadn’t used your mate’s word against him, you would have had more time to adjust to all his fingers. The desperation you feel now is nearly as intense as your iknimaya tonight, but you find the strength to bite your tongue and allow Ralak to take over completely.
With your body now in a state of pure submission, Ralak leans in to kiss you, slowly sliding his last finger inside you. Your moan of pleasure is muffled by his soft lips, last knuckles meeting the softness of your plump pussy lips. He pulls away from you, moving his wet kisses up to your ear.
“That’s my good girl.” He whispers in a gruff voice, bottom lip brushing against the lobe of your ear. Angling his wrist to prod right into your sweet spot, he pumps all three fingers in and out of you.
“Feels... s-so – so good.” You pant quietly, rolling your hips into him. He can feel your body opening even more for him, sweet nectar dripping down to his wrists. After two more pumps of his fingers, you push him away from you, causing him to settle into the dips of his feet.
Both of you pant for air, chests heaving wildly, fully exposed and on edge. You can see the way his cock twitches to be sunk inside something – anything. It’s throbbing and so hard it must be painful, bead after bead of precum just oozing from his slit. It’s almost as if he enjoyed depriving himself of the pleasure of your tight cunt around his cock.
But tonight, there’s a glint in his eye.
A predatory, rapacious one. And when you exchange glares, there’s a silent understanding between the two of you. The understanding that you both want it just as bad as the other. The understanding that his patience has been stretched thin – so thin that all he needs is a little push.
“My body is ready, Ralak. I want you inside me, please.” You beg pathetically, looking him deep in his eyes.
Your sensitive pussy walls ache to know what it feels like to tighten around him, all gummy and slimy from the slick your body won’t stop producing. It’s like it’s in overdrive, sensing how big your mate is, and doing what it needs to accommodate his sheer size. Your legs spread wider, glistening pussy on full display – acting as bait to lure him in.
Ralak repositions himself closer between your legs, staring intently at the soft flesh, flushed red with arousal. Gaze darting up to yours, he sees your eyes gloss over with want, more tears of desperation threatening to roll down your heated cheeks.
He can tell you were ready, body completely submitting itself to him and his touches. He’s never seen you this needy, not even in heat. This past week has been tortuous for the two of you, waiting patiently for you to heal fully before touching you in the way you want.
“You must tell me if it hurts. Please tanhì.” He says low in his chest, rubbing his crown of his cock between your slickened folds.
“I will. Please.” A breathy whine parts your lips, hips shimmying down towards his. Left leg loosely resting on his thigh, you hold your right leg back, knee brushing against your shoulder.
He looks as if he were in pain, grimacing from the anticipation of possibly hurting you again. He ensures to take his time, aware of how well-endowed he is beneath his loincloth. He begins rubbing soft, loose circles in your swollen, sticky clit. It’s all red and puffy, making wet, sloppy noises with each stroke with his tip. He lingers there for as long as he can, playing in your wetness in hopes it’ll make it less painful for you.
Now with your verbal consent, he leans in, supporting his body weight with his hands nestled by your sides. His hips snap, throbbing, veiny cock sliding over your tender clit. You feel his warm, swollen tip poke into your lower stomach, pearls of precum leaking into the dip of your navel. He pulls back, trying to line his cock up with your entrance once more, hips stammering to sink himself inside you.
Fat tip bucking against your tight hole, it slides between your pussy lips and over the bundle of shot nerves again. You can’t help but moan, the sensation of his warm cock rubbing against you only makes the need to be fucked grow stronger. His breaths turn raggedy, huffing and puffing hot air as he snaps his hips back a final time. You reach down with a trembling hand and grip his girth, positioning him at your entrance.
“Relax for me, tanhì.” He grunts, shuffling his left knee closer towards you. “Let me in.” He feels you loosen up, releasing the breath you weren’t aware that you were holding. “A little more. There you go.” He hums, point of his tip now slowly breaking the resistance.
He pushes gently. Carefully. Slowly. Your chins meet your chests, both watching as his tip pops inside you. You take a sharp, shaky breath, feeling the immense pressure of something so thick bury itself into your tight opening. Eyes flicking up to yours, he searches your face for any kind of discomfort.
“Oh Lak. ‘ts s-so big.” You whimper under your breath, hand flying up to grip his forearm. “D-deeper.”
Inebriated eyes struggle to widen at your words, just like he struggles to fight against his urges to slam the rest of his cock inside you. He takes a deep breath, mesmerized by the way your cunt sucks him in another two inches. You’re so tight that he can’t help but grimace, brows tightening from the way you’re pinching him.
He stops, wanting to let you adjust to what’s inside you so far, only for you to wrap your slender, soft tail around his thigh. You know that it drives him crazy, it’s one of his favourite parts of you. A gruff grunt vibrates in his throat, hips bucking on their own to sink another couple inches inside your wet, tight cunt.
“Deeper. Deeper.” You blubber, grip on his forearm tightening as he obliges. You want all of him, every, single, fucking inch of him to stuff you until you feel queasy. Until he couldn’t push anymore. Until he can’t do anything but grind himself inside you. “Deeper!” You cry out a pathetic whine, just as his mushroomy head presses intp your cervix.
Ralak continues to push against the resistance, biting down on his bottom lip from the way you squeeze him so tightly. He bottoms out in your slippery pussy, his tattoo finally kissing yours. They align so perfectly, each line pressed against one another with precision.
He’s so deep inside you, that it feels like he’s in your tummy, knocking the air out of your lungs. Your mouth hangs open, tongue relaxed against your bottom lip as saliva dribbles down your chin. Brows kissing in fervour, you stare into his eyes while you relish in the sensation of your mate all the way inside you for the first time. He watches as the colour in your face turns almost purple, nails sinking so deep into his skin that they draw a little blood.
“Breathe for me, tanhì.” He huffs, easing up on his pushes. With his reminder, you gasp for air, salty tears flowing onto your tongue. “You are doing so well. You know that?”
“Oh – Ralak.” You let out a sweet, little cry, nipples hardening into stiff peaks from his extra hoarse voice. You couldn’t stop the tears; they always came when you feel too much of anything. And right now, you were feeling so full, so good. Even the stretch feels good, the sting and hint of pain from his cock burrowing all the way inside you.
He could feel the blood slowly trickle down his forearm, but the way your tight walls are nipping at him is much worse. The scent of his blood mixes in the air with the scent of your arousal, sending his nostrils fluttering in fear that he’s hurt you again.
“Feeling pain?” He asks, breaking eye contact briefly to check if you’re bleeding again. An expression of relief washes over him when he realizes that you’re not – it’s all just him. All he can see is the supple skin pulled taut around his cock, doing its best to stretch wide enough for him.
“No.” You lie, afraid it’ll be a repeat of last time. The pain is more like a burn, but the way the ridge of his cockhead pushes up into your gummy walls masks it just right.
“Tanhì.” He rasps, glancing at your disconnected kurus laying on your stomach, silently asking to make tsaheylu – for the truth.
“I – I mean, a little.” You confess, holding both your kurus in next to each other. “Just... stings. Feel me.” You breathe, urge to bond so consuming that your tendrils dance wildly as you move them closer together. Tsaheylu is made hastily, kurus tugging together with a quick, sharp movement. You stare into each other’s lidless eyes, pupils blown to full capacity.
Ralak’s ears tuck next to his skull, brows pinching and lips parting. In an instant, he can feel everything you’re feeling, and for a few moments its just overwhelming. He feels the slight burn between your legs and pants a few times, breath syncing with yours.
“See? You feel…good. Really good.” You moan lowly, finally relaxing your stomach muscles.
“Good.” He gulps, corners of his lips curling upwards. He stays as still as he can, waiting for your body’s command to move. “You feel… tight.”
There’s a moment of silence where you both take in how one another feels. How you can feel each vein of his cock. The way his mushroomy head throbs against your cervix. How warm and soft you feel around his length, sucking him in with greed.
It almost feels like it did when you mated – blown pupils and heightened senses. It’s just another way of connecting with each other. Ralak drops his head, gaze landing on your tattoo, distorted from the way your belly bulges from his cock.
“Oh shit.” He curses under his breath, voice laced with panic. He begins pulling out, prompting you to wrap your legs around his waist. “That must hurt.” He says, putting all his weight on one hand to caress the bump protruding from your abdomen with the other.
You look down to see his fingers graze over the bulge, shock raising your brows. “I- It doesn’t. I’m fine.”
His hand continues to stroke the bump, fantasizing about how one day this bump would be by something else entirely – his baby growing in your womb. He tries his hardest to fight the arousal brewing in his core, the type that makes his hips snap forward all on their own. All so he can see that bulge protrude even more.
Ralaks’ breathing is so heavy and hard that it’s audible – a low, continuous growl rumbling deep in his chest. Hand slowly sliding down your tattoo, he presses the ball of his palm into your pelvis as his thumb caresses your puffy clit. It makes you squirm a little, walls relaxing and contracting around his cock. He can tell that your body is ready for him, pussy producing so much slick it’s dripping onto his swollen balls.
“Please….” You moan softly, trying to grind into him. “Need you so bad, Lak.”
“Tell me what you need, my little paysyul.” He groans, inching closer to your face, hand moving from your clit to cup your breast.
“Need you… need you to fuck m-me.” Your breath hitches at the last word, body shuddering from the way his slickened, calloused thumb grazes over your nipple.
“Fuck you, hm?” His accented voice is thick with want – with rapacity. He thrusts into you suddenly, knocking the air out your lungs. “Like that?”
“Mmnfuck! Ye-s.” You inhale shakily, nodding reassuringly as you claw at his face to pull him closer to you. He quickly props himself up on both his elbows, leaning in to rest his forehead against yours.
Ralak clenches and unclenches his jaw, ears twitching in synchrony, as he tries to resist scratching the itch to pound into you like his own little personal fucktoy. No matter how badly he wants to. To pump you full of his seed. To breed you. To knot you.
He sighs, momentarily closing his eyes to regain his composure. It’s already here, the animalistic instinct to turn you into a vessel to carry his offspring. It’s so close. Creeping up on him like a menace.
His rut.
Though it’s not due for another week, the way you’re staring up at him, eyes glazed over with need, begging him to fill you up didn’t help. Yet, he bites his lip through it, determined to make your real first time a special one. An enjoyable experience. So much so, that he forgets it’s his first time too.
Gently, Ralak. He reminds himself, rocking into you languidly, back muscles rippling with every thrust. Glancing down, he witnesses the bulge move as he rolls his hips into you. Sticky pelvises connected by strings of slick as he pulls out, he grunts quietly, feeling ashamed by how aroused watching you stretch to these lengths makes him feel.
He leans into you, peppering wet kisses down your jaw line, working his way up to the lobe of your ear. “Being such a good girl for me, hm? For your mate.”
You can feel the way his cock moves inside you, so deep and thick that every part of you is being stimulated all at once. You can’t even think straight, not with the way he’s grunting and whispering sweet praises into your ear. You hold on tightly to your mate, wrapping your arms around his neck as he moves at a steady pace.
That hint of pain quickly subsides, morphing into waves of pleasure so intense that it’s etched into your features. Your little mewls and whines turn into soft moans, breathy and shaky from the way he fucks right into your gummy sweet spot. You tighten your hold around his waist with your legs, encouraging him to fasten his pace and deepen his strokes.
“Please. More! Need more of you!” You cry out, nails scraping down his back to pull him in closer.
“Patience, tanhì.” He huffs, moving his kisses down to your neck, suckling on your supple skin – leaving little bruise like marks behind. “So tiny” A kiss right on the column of your throat, “So tight.” A gentle roll of his hips as he pulls back to look you in the eyes. “My sevin [pretty].”
“Ralak.” You moan softly as you lift your hips up into him, feeling absolutely nothing but absolute and utter bliss at this point. “Please.”
He rolls his hips into you once more, slowly, and tenderly, ridge of his cockhead gliding past your swelling sweet spot. “My mate.” He groans, pulling back just to push himself inside you at a torturously slow pace. “All mine, yes?”
“Yes. Yes. All yours, ma’ lak.” You breathe, snaking your arms around his neck to tug him into you. “F-Faster.” You ask coyly, trying to keep your legs as wide open as you possibly can.
Ralak moves a little faster, but not nearly as fast as you need. He’s so big – so thick that it doesn’t matter the angle, some part of his cock is stimulating every part of you. Looking down, you see himself only halfway buried inside you, refusing to let your tattoos touch anymore.
Beady, displeased eyes snap back up to meet his, “I want to feel all of you.”
Ralak almost laughs, but instead cocks his brow and smirks. He leans down to play in the dip of your collarbone with his tongue, moving quickly to pepper a few kisses on the curve of your shoulder. “You like pain that much?”
For second, you really think about it. His cock is so deep that you feel like you can barely take a full breath. Not to mention the bulge from him being inside you alone. Yet you want all of it. Perhaps you do like pain. But with the way he’s touching you it’s hard to think clearly whatsoever. All that’s running through your head is Ralak pinning you into a mating press and pounding you the way you want.
“I like Ralak. And if Ralak means pain...” You wrap your arms and legs tightly around him, using all your weight and strength to roll him on to his back and situate yourself comfortably on top of him. “...then yes, I like pain.”
“Is that right?” He huffs as his back slams into the ground, hands instinctively flying to grip the softness of your hips.
“Yes.” You let out a shaky confirmation, bringing your knees to your chest so you’re squatting over him. Sinking all the way down onto his cock, he watches as you suck in every single inch of him with ease. You’re tight – really tight – but you were practically made for him. He exhales a chuckle, finding it interesting how such a little thing could take his cock so well.
“What?” You snap, hands pressing into his firm chest as you reposition yourself on top of him.
“Who knew someone as small as you...” He slides his hands from your hips to your waist, “... would be made for someone like me.”
You gasp as he completely bottoms out inside you, lungs filling with the scent of his arousal, “Someone s-so big?”
He chuckles, calloused thumbs grazing over your raised tattoo, entranced how you can make such an inking like his look so good. There’s just something about the way it trails down to the most sensitive, vulnerable area of your body that drives him crazy.
“I can see why you couldn’t stop staring at mine.” He husks, hand sliding over the stripes to feel their raised texture.
The sensation makes your hips snap back, tattoo still a little sore and itchy. But the way his cock tilts right into your walls washes away the sting with a wave of pleasure. And soon your hips are stuttering all on their own, chasing that budding heat in your core. Every time you move back it feels like a jolt of white-hot pleasure, and when you move forward it’s like –
Satiation.
A feeling of fullness and satisfaction, so intense you feel like you’re about to explode. The sensation is a new one altogether, something you’ve never felt before. It’s so much – so overwhelming you could just scream. It’s like a pressure in your chest, like a heated pot with an airtight lid, about to pop and release.
Your body chases it, grinding back and forth into him at an unrelenting tempo. And the sounds that are coming from your mouth are just straight up vulgar. At this rate, you’re using him for your own pleasure, frenzied movements only increasing in speed and force. He’s so deep the bump protruding from your abdomen has completely deformed your tattoo, pushing against his thumbs.
He presses into it, feeling the crown of his cock through your soft skin. You’re arching your back, angling the tip of his cock to pummel into you even more, fingernails digging deep into his chest for some sort of leverage. You lift your hips up and slam into him repeatedly until the sound of smacking flesh overpowers your filthy noises.
“E-Easy tanhì.” His gruff voice breaks from your erratic movements. “Slow down. You are going to hurt yourself.” He grunts as he grabs your hips to slow you down, feeling his own climax quickly approaching.
“Quiet.” You shush him, weakly smacking away one of his hands to prevent him from ruining this for you. “Fuck. This feels too good. So fucking good. I-I feel like I’m –” You cut yourself off with a quick gasp for air.
Ralak looks up at you with lust in his eyes, pride bubbling in his chest from how you’re working for your climax all on your own. And from the way you’re clamping down around him, he can sense that you’re close. Maybe he could just give into you. Just this once.
“There you go. Just like that.” He encourages you, sliding his thumb between your folds to play with your sticky clit.
“Ugh! Lak.” You moan his name as you release the breath you’ve been holding. Eyes slamming shut, you shift your focus on the unfurling coil in your core. It feels like your nerves are shot, body teeming with pleasure.
Ralak stays still, allowing his little tanhì to do all the work. He can’t peel his eyes away from such a sight. The sight of his mate using him for her own pleasure. It almost sends him over the edge, urge to fuck up into you becoming an itch he must scratch.
“Y-You like how I feel around you. Don’t you?” You breathe, corner of your lips pulling up into a smug little smirk. The question snaps his gaze up to yours, blue eyes locking onto your flushed face. How was it possible? For your face to be more arousing to him than the sight of him inside you. For you, it’s the way he’s staring at you, as if you were the topping on the finest matkayinan dessert.
“Yeah? Haah, ah – say it. Tell your numeyu.” You pant shakily.
Ralak’s jaw twitches, chest rising and falling from how hard he’s breathing. He looks like he’s biting on his tongue – literally and figuratively. To hold back even just an ounce of self-control. So not to admit how good it feels when you squeeze him with your innocence.
It’s so pure. Untouched. Unfucked.
“I love it.” He growls through a clenched jaw.
“Oh, fuck.” You let loose a sudden scream, your hand flying to cover your agape mouth. Then there’s –
Silence. You hold your breath, feeling your eyes burn as they gloss over. All you can hear is the sound of your slick smearing all over his pelvic bone as you grind into him, and his intense breathing. Until you feel like you’re about to burst. Your hand falls from your mouth, leaving it wide open.
“Ralak.” You moan his name, although it sounds more like a desperate cry for help.
Rather than answering, he picks up the speed of his thumb, swiping over your swollen clit at a merciless pace.
“Ralak.” Another little cry falls from your flushed lips to let him know you’re close even though he can feel everything through tsaheylu. “Ra –” You cut yourself off with a quick snap of your hips, jamming his head right against your swollen g-spot. “–lak!”
“Ralak!” You cry out for the last time, frenzied movements turning into quick, rough grinding. You gush all over your mate, force of your orgasm so strong that you push him out of you, painting his stomach in your pussy juices as if he were a blank canvas. Your legs shake uncontrollably, all strength of your body washing away to leave you weak and wobbly. Pushing down onto his chest, you do your best to hold your shuddering body up.
“Fuck. Good girl. Good girl.” He curses a well-deserved praise, accent extra thick over such a novel word to him.
“I-I just made mys-self cum, Lak.” You groan breathlessly, feeling the walls of your cunt pulsate around him as confirmation.
“I can see that tanhì” He chuckles breathily, chin meeting his chest to look at the little puddle of cum you’ve made on him. You look down to see what he’s talking about, blurred vision making it so that you can only see the intense glisten of his skin. You slide one hand down from his chest onto his stomach, feeling a warm, watery liquid glazed over his cyan skin.
“Oh shit, I’m so sorr – ”
“Shh. Again. Do that for your karyu again.” He hums, rolling his hips to grind his cock between your slippery pussy lips.
“Oh – Lak, I – I really don’t know if I can.” You say with trembling lungs, feeling so spent that you’re light in the head.
Ralak clicks his tongue, swiftly moving his hands under your thighs to lift you up. “You can. Hips up.” With one quick movement, he positions the tip of his cock at your tight opening and lets go of your thighs. Due to the heaviness of your body, you slam down onto lap, taking every inch of his cock all at once.
“Oh, great mother!” You cry out her name as a curse, crown of his cock threatening to pierce through your cervix. It hurt so good that you can’t help but grind further into it his relentless pushes. Fuck, maybe you do like pain. White hot pleasure surges through you, but morphs into something totally different when you feel his fingers wrap around and sink into your hips.
He repositions himself, heels of his feet sinking so deep into the cot that there will be dents for weeks. You bob and sway as he wiggles into place, all-consuming eyes boring into yours of delirium. They had a glint of... intent.
Intent to make you cum again.
And again. And – honestly, as many orgasms as he could squeeze out of your little body. And before you can even process all of what’s going on, Ralak begins pounding into you. Wet, squelching noises and sounds of skin smacking against skin become louder than the filthy moans he’s expertly working out of you.
“This is what you want, yes?” He grunts, pulling out just to slam himself back into you a little deeper. “All of me?”
“Lak!” You barely get out, a hand against his tattoo to push him back. “W-Wait, it’s too much –”
“Answer me.” He growls, angling his pelvis to fuck right into your most sensitive spot.
“Oh – fuck! Y-Yes!” You let loose a sudden, hoarse cry of defeat, taking his hammering with no where to run.
He can’t stop the buck of his hips. It’s just the way your heat sucks his in his twitching cock, milking his sticky precum into your empty womb. And that belly bulge – that damn bulge makes it twice as hard to fight to urge to fill you up until it’s even more swollen. He watches as it moves, ramming so hard into you it protrudes a little more with each thrust.
“Then cum for me.” He demands of you, eyes locked on the way your breasts bounce under your crimson top from the sheer force of his thrusts.
“Please! Please –” You beg, unsure what even for. You could already feel yet another orgasm approaching, and it’s not yours. It’s like a heat is transferring through his queue to yours, and down your spine in shocks. You try to close your legs in anticipation of it pooling in your core, setting off your own orgasm.
“Tell me what you need.” He growls, thrusts becoming shorter and deeper, bulge at the base of his cock growing by the second.
He’s on the brink of cumming, and you could feel it.
“I-Inside.” You blubber, head dipping back from the overstimulation as he gets himself off with your tight cunt. He tsks, thrusting up into you hard. “Ugh! I need your cum inside me!”
“Shit.” He growls deeply, manhandling your hips to keep your squirming body down on his cock. You feel it throb inside you, filling up your empty womb right before your pussy walls flutter around him. Your brain short circuits, body convulsing violently before slumping down into his. He holds you tight, giving your sopping cunt a few more deep thrusts, knot prodding at your entrance.
“W-What’s t-that?” You blubber breathlessly into his ear, feeling your eyelids grow heavier.
“Knot.” He barely grunts an answer, thick, sticky seed dripping down the growing, throbbing bulge as it has no where else to go. His fingers dig into your skin, deeper and deeper as he squeezes his eyes shut – resisting the urge to sink his knot inside you too. That would hurt. Too much.
He hums out his orgasm, rocking into you a few times to ensure you’re as full as can be. Well, you feel that way. You’re so full of not only his cock but also his huge load, you can practically feel it slushing around inside you. You groan when the sensation makes you a little queasy.
Ralak feels your discomfort, tenderly pulling out of you. That alone took a while, each inch coming out of you slowly and gently. “You okay?” He huffs, just as his cockhead pops out of you, allowing his warm cum to seep out of you and down your thighs. You nod into the crook of his neck, closing your eyes and letting your body rest on top of him.
“You took me so well.” He coos at you, supporting the back of your head with one hand and the swell of your ass with the other. “You know that?”
“Mhm. L-ak.” His name comes out broken as he shuffles to his feet with you in his firm hold. “I see you, ma’ ‘lak.” You mumble, letting your eyes flutter shut.
“I see you, my little tanhì.” He utters the words in a hoarse voice, making his way to the cave to take care of you.
----
Now that you’re all healed and settled in to your new forever home, Ralak urges you to pay your family a visit. It took quite a bit of convincing, and honestly a little bit of bribing, but it worked and here you are – standing in your own family marui. Kiri, Tuk, and Neytiri were out with Ronal and Tsireya, leaving the boys behind.
Just your luck.
“C’mon, let’s see it.” Jake crosses his arms and takes a step back.
“Yeah, y/n. It’s been over a week since we’ve seen you. I haven’t even seen your tattoo yet.” Lo’ak chimes in, leaning against the stilt of his family marui. Neteyam stands tall, keeping to himself as he listens intently to the conversation.
“Guys.” You chuckle nervously, fidgeting with the cork on your songchord.
“Why so nervous, baby girl? Somewhere where we can’t see or somethin’?” Jake jesters, uncrossing his arms to walk behind you, inspecting your back.
“Uh – uhm.” You stumble with your words, looking at Neteyam for some sort of rescue. Rather, he cocks a brow in agreeance with his family. He wants to know too. You look at Lo’ak, who’s now making his way towards you too. It feels like they’re all closing in on you, teaming up on you to give you no other choice.
“Fine. If you guys want to see it that bad.” You shrug, hooking your thumbs under the band of your tewng and tug it down until the six lines begin to show.
The men’s eyes snap down and widen once they all realise what you’re doing. They begin retreating to the back of the marui, hands splayed in front of their faces to shield them from the unfolding sight.
“Alright. Alright!” Jake shouts, waving his hands for you to stop.
“Yep. Nevermind. Message received.” Lo’ak mutters, making his way through the back door of the marui. Before you can even look Neteyam’s way, he’s right behind his baby brother, shaking his head and escaping this whole ordeal.
----------
THE END :)
I hope you guys enjoyed this (slow burn) Ralak series. I just want to give a special thank you to @zestys-stuff for allowing me to bring this man to life in a fic. This collaboration has been unreal and so much fun and honestly, I look forward to doing more collabs with you in the future (cus I know you got more delicious OC’s hidden up your sleeve). You’re so fucking talented and I literally cannot get over it.
Now, now. Ralak is not gone forever. I’ll be doing special episodes of him (and reader) going forward, and you can expect the first special episode very soon – “Ralak’s First Rut”. It’s a bit of a mind fuck (literally) so bear with me! Anyways.
‘nuff love,
Issy <3
#ralak#ralak smut#avatar smut#awow smut#metkayina#metkayina smut#metkayina oc#oc smut#avatar oc smut#awow oc smut#sully reader#sully reader x oc#oc x sully reader#oc x sully reader smut#na'vi smut#na'vi x reader#na'vi x sully reader#na'vi avatar#Ralak te Sepawn ieyk’itan#smut#metkayina x omaticaya#metkayina x omaticaya smut#metkayina x fem reader
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love realization #10 with “you’re so pretty...” “and you are drunk.” for Neteyam I just know you’ll EAT
stoppp you’re gonna make me blush omg!! i was so excited for someone to request this one eeee 🤭 first commission for the party! wc: 873
Neteyam x fem!na’vi reader
prompt: “you’re so pretty” “and you’re drunk” drunk flirty prompts #4
warnings: none!
Neteyam knew better. Honesty, he did. What kind of idiot challenges Lo’ak, of all people, to a drinking contest?
“Loser does the other’s chores for two weeks.”
“Oh, you’re on baby bro.”
It was lighthearted, at first. Realization quickly setting in that a celebration within the village like this was something that didn’t come around often; a chance for them to kick their feet up with zero worries of responsibility even rarer. And the large bonfire roaring in the middle of the common grounds, embers crackling amidst the steady hum of cheerfully sparked conversations, solidified that fact.
Couples, brothers, sisters, all sat around, enjoying each other’s company while the children had long ran off with their peers, eagerly urged by their parents to wear themselves out for the night with repetitive games of tag.
It was clear this was a time to relax, something that was usually unknown to the eldest sully. But a quick glance over at his parents, giggling and huddled up, served as ample reassurance. And with each swig from the leather bota bag Lo’ak had shoved into his hands just moments prior, he felt himself relaxing more and more.
You’re seated on a fallen log beside the swaying figures of the two sully boys, a little ways in the distance from the lively dancing bodies of fellow na’vi. It’s probably been going on for fifteen minutes now, the repetitive shoving and roughhousing between the brothers as they place their bets higher and higher on who can drink the most of the strong liquid. Your forehead almost aches from the amount of times your palm has smacked it.
Neteyam holds a weary hand up, nodding deeply and laggardly waving the limb in his brother’s direction as he urges himself to continue. “Alright, *hiccup* I… I got this. Just *hiccup* give me a second.” The statement comes out slurred and choppy, his free hand balanced on his knee to keep himself from falling over as he reaches out with the other to take the flask from Lo’ak’s hands— or struggles to, rather.
“Alright, that’s enough.” You quickly chime in at the sight of Neteyam’s dizzied state, leisurely leaning forward to snatch the bottle of fermented fruit from the hands of his challenger. Your movements were far from rushed, but Neteyam couldn’t have caught up with you even if he wanted to. “Congratulations, Lo’ak. You win.”
It’s painfully delayed, Neteyam’s reaction, that is.
“Wait, wait-“
But it’s too late, you’ve already dumped the remains of the liquid out in the bush behind you, and Neteyam tosses his hands up in the air in regards to you waving his white flag before he could even agree to it.
“Fuck yeah!” Lo’ak is quick to shoot up on his feet, a little too quickly, seeing as he stumbles a bit before catching himself. “Have fun scooping ikran shit, big bro.” His words are spoken at a teylu’s pace, a heavy hand lifting to his forehead as he signs a mock salute to his tipsy sibling.
You watch Lo’ak wobble away with a shake of your head, knowing he’s probably off to go challenge yet another victim to a game he’s never lost. A laugh was set to leave your lips, until you heard Neteyam groan and felt his body slump over into your lap.
His unfiltered weight is heavy in your hold, but you let him, nonetheless. He lazily shifts from his side to lay on his back, his head cradled in your open palm as you stare down at him with a quirked brow.
“God, why is everything spinning?” His eyes pinch shut and he drags his hands down his face before they move to rest over the steady rise and fall of his stomach.
“Maybe because you’re an idiot and tried to out drink your brother. Do you not remember how badly you lost to him last time? You couldn’t get out of bed for two days.” You tease.
His lids peel open and they narrow to glare at you for as long as he can keep up the offended act.
But with the way your hair cascades over your shoulders and frames your face, your eyes twinkling with amusement as you look down at him, he can’t pretend for long. His resolve crumbles in seconds, the slightly fuzzy image of you causing a goofy smile to spread along his flushed lips.
Your head tilts quizzically at his sudden change in expression and you go to tuck a strand behind your ear. “What are you smiling at?”
His lashes flutter and he gives you a sluggish shrug of his shoulders, pearly canines peeking through his boyish grin as his fingers reach to twirl a lock of your hair. And when he speaks, his words drag on much longer than they’re supposed to.
“You’re so pretty… Have I ever told you that?”
The sound of a hiccup cutting through his confession has your eyes rolling towards the stars, possibly to distract you from the fact that your face is heating up.
“And you’re drunk. Very, very drunk.” You giggle, gently brushing your fingers over the wispy baby hairs that peek from his hairline.
He hums, though it’s clear he’s not listening with the way his heavy eyelids fall closed in response to your touch. With a turn of his cheek, his head nuzzles against your thighs and closer to you, the soft graze of the tip of his nose below your navel nearly ticklish.
“I want you… want you, to be my girlfriend. Will you be my girlfriend?” He drawls with a smack of his lips.
His arms wind around your waist, letting you know that he’s definitely about to pass out and trap you where you’re sat until he stirs from the drunken coma.
You sigh at that, and your forehead thanks you for showing mercy when you restrain yourself from smacking your palm to it again as you respond to the dozing man in your lap.
“We’ve been mated for two years, Neteyam.”
Likes + Comments + Reblogs are much appreciated 💗
©teyums 2023
#— teyums’ 2k party#neteyam sully#neteyam x reader#neteyam x you#neteyam fanfiction#neteyam fic#neteyam imagine#neteyam oneshot#avatar way of water#avatar twow#avatar 2#neteyam
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Can you make Ghost Booze?
No really, serious question.
If Danny hit, say for legal purposes, 21 and TOTALLY not like 16+ with an internet connection and a dream, and looked a Zone Plants? And Wondered?
COULD he?
We know, basically, if it's Fauna it boozer. Gods bless the natural kingdom etc. BUT! While he maybe be looking at some sweet, FREE, neon day-glow fruits and veggies? They...are ectoplasm.
That Ectoplasmic Grape cluster? Ectoplasm. The neon purple mango? Ectoplasm again! These starchy tubers? From the fridge. But THESE tubers? The orange glowing ones? Ectoplasm! It's all goo, all the time, baby!
And DOES ECTOPLASM FERMENT? Is the question!
Cause we aren't ASKING IF there is ghost booze. Of course there is. But THAT may just form fully developed, bottle and all! So? Can they? Do we need Ghost Yeast? If it DOES ferment, does it even release ALCOHOL or something else? Like radioactive by-product?
Does it make sludge?
What does the illicit Ghost Moonshine Danny DEFINITELY hasn't made in the OPs center, TASTE like? Paint thinner with a hint of battery acid? Floral after taste? Is it fruity? Could it kill a man? Does it still GLOW?
The people demand ANSWERS!
@hypewinter @nerdpoe @ailithnight @the-witchhunter @hdgnj
#dp#dp lore#tw alchohol mention#booze#ghost booze#the MAKING of ghost booze by a professional dimwit#booze tumblr answer me!#ghost drinks#danny phantom and the hang over he wishes he didnt live to regret#his poor liver
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Kinktober 8- Voyeurism
Lo’ak X Human Fem Reader; Neteyam watching 👀
Warnings ⚠️: Fingering, Choking, P in V, voyeur Neteyam 😋, OC’s in the beginning for a smidge just for the plot.
I wanted to do something a little crazy and dedicate this chapter to @loaksulluyswife I see you liking and reblogging most of my posts and I wanted to show some appreciation to you as well, thank you for being you and thank you for liking my writing 😭
No use of Y/n in this so I’m happy! This shit is hard for me to do. Sorry for the late posts, I keep getting depressed asf (the weather aint helping) and I keep wanting to delete things.
Kinktober 2023 Masterlist
Translation Station:
Syulang: Flower
Tewng: Loincloth
Word Count: 2.5 K
“What about you, who would you rather sleep with, Lo’ak or Neteyam?” One of my friend’s, Amber, asks me. We were sitting in a circle, taking swigs of whatever fermented alcoholic drink we were able to snag from the party the Omatikaya were having outside of the base of operations, between myself and the other two before me I shrug. Spider usually hung out with whenever he wasn’t partaking in their celebrations or hanging with the kids we were currently discussing.
“I don’t think either of them would be willing to sleep with a human.” I answered honestly and feel the two girls before me groan in frustration and seem upset at my answer.
“What?” I ask as my eyes widened, I thought being honest was the best route to go for me, but judging by the looks of distaste on both the girls face that wasn’t what they wanted.
“We wanna know whose dick you’re thirsty for, not what they want.” Ashley speaks this time.
“Why is that such a big deal?” I asked while attempting to take a swig of the drink, feeling it snatched out of my hands, and I sigh.
“You look like a Neteyam girl.” Amber, the one who’d snatched the drink from my hands speaks, the same person I’d known since we were in diapers
“No way, she definitely wants Lo’ak.”
“What if I said both? Would the two of you stop bickering and let me get a drink?” I ask as I hold my hand out, expecting her to hand the alcohol back and see her scoff, taking a drink herself and passing it toward Ashley.
“Come on, Amber, what the fuck.” I groan.
“That’s such a cop out, please tell me you’re a Lo’ak girl, you have to choose one.” Ashley asks with a hopeful tone in her voice and I about roll my eyes in her direction.
“Fine, Lo’ak, with Neteyam watching. Is that good enough for you?”
“In your face Amber, I told you she wanted Lo’ak.”
“She said she wanted Neteyam to watch!” She rebuts and I roll my eyes as she is givedn the drink again, having had enough I roll my eyes and stand, heading over to place a mask on my face and hearing the hiss signal that it was properly positioned, I didn’t feel like staying here and being denied alcohol. Plus I could hang out with Spider and his friends and it would be a nice change of pace from being stuck in here, Norm was in his link unit and I’m sure he’d be fine with it.
“Where are you going?” One of them yells out to catch my attention but I wave her off.
“Anywhere the two of you aren’t, that way I can get drunk.” I stated quickly and opened the door leading me into a small area for the oxygen to get neutralized, shutting it quickly to prevent the other two from seeking an invitation out with me, opening the second door out into the atmosphere of high camp.
It doesn’t take me long to spot out a table with a couple of drinks in the custom made jars they had, the intricate designs on them each meant the bottle held something different. I wasn’t in the mood to drink something that would get me drunk faster because the taste was usually worse, the phantom sting coursing through my throat at that moment made me shiver from the last time I’d drank from the jar with the purple designs on them. I wanted something painted in a turquoise and spotted several, they often incorporated their fruits into it and made it taste sweeter.
I smile and start setting a course to make my way toward the table, thinking of where I could enjoy the delicacy and figuring getting drunk in Pandoran atmosphere was probably not the best idea because I could end up forgetting to put my mask back on, but before I could even make it halfway to my destination, a tug pulls my concentration- and my body- off toward the left, my legs blindly following the semi familiar touch and my heart yearning for another drink.
“What the fuck-“ I stated before being shoved up against the slanted rock, my own breath coming out as a gasp at the feeling, eyes widening at the action as I stare at a pair of familiar eyes and feeling anger boiling over.
“What is wrong with you!” I stated angrily.
“I thought you wouldn’t mind if I brought you out here with me, syulang.” He lightly pinches one of my cheeks and lets out a chuckle as I swat his hand away angrily, all I wanted was to sneak some alcohol and enjoy it in a quiet place.
“You cost me some booze.” I stated as I crossed my arms and notice the smirk had yet to leave his lips, wanting to slap it off his face.
“I have an idea in mind on how I can make it up to you,” He offers and it has me raising a brow, eyeing him up and down, eyes squinting at his proposition.
“I might not be able to fulfill all of it but it might help, it’s up to you.” He shrugs smugly and I was starting to picture the different ways I could beat his ass at the moment, he was too vague for my liking.
“What are you going on about now?” I sigh.
“If my mind serves me right, You have to choose one, fine Lo’ak with Neteyam watching.” He tilts his head to the side, had this been a different circumstance I would have laughed along to his antics, but considering the situation I wanted Eywa to open up a hole in the ground to swallow me up.
“That’s not fuckin’ funny, dammit, you weren’t even supposed to be there-“ I cut myself off as a realization hits me.
“-What were you doing there anyway? Don’t tell me you were sneaking in to find Norm’s laptop so you could jerk off to some porn.” I began by letting a smile start revealing itself on my lips, watching his own smirk falter lightly, and feeling surprised at his reaction, ears drooping slightly before they pick up again.
“No bullshit?” I ask immediately and his eyes pick up again, eyes looking between mine before a smile settles on his features.
“To which one?”
“Your offer.” I crossed my arms, lifting my chin defiantly, not bothering to shy away from staring at his eyes.
“Can you even take me?” He crosses his own arms and looks down at me.
“I dunno, you seem quiet enough to make it seem like you have a big dick, do you?” I tilt my head slightly toward the side and watch him fight a smile.
_________
This isn’t the first time Lo’ak has been known to disappear, and as always, it had been my duty to retrieve him and bring him home, just for our father to reprimand him for his childish behaviors for disappearing. I’d seen him take off toward the link pods where Kiri’s mother was kept and had taken to peeking near the windows to only see two inebriated females laughing at something.
I must have mistook the sense of direction he’d taken, but even Spider had pointed toward where my brother went after I asked politely, both of them having pointed toward where the humans kept their machines to connect to their avatars. I head back to check and see if he’d been anywhere near the outer edged of the party where a lot of couples had taken to talk or sometimes decided it was appropriate to be intimate.
But I turn my head sharply once I catch the slightest whiff of his scent, taking a cautious step forward and sniffing the air around me, assuring that his scent is getting stronger, and slightly mingled with the other tawtute Spider likes to hang out with. I continue making my way down the path he must have taken earlier, wanting to know what the skxawng had been up to and why he thought he could sneak away when our father told him to stay near.
It doesn’t take long for me to find him, back facing me and he seems to be crouched down a bit, I want to yell out his name just as something lurches in my abdomen, a specific scent I’d only smelled a handful of times hits my nose and I stop myself from approaching him. Ears picking up the sound of his activities.
“See, I told you, you were worried over nothing.” He speaks in a hushed tone, almost soothing, something he rarely does.
“Look at how well you’re already taking my fingers.” I hear him mutter. I knew I should have left at that moment once I heard the sounds being made from the woman below him, her heavy breaths turning into soft moans, but I felt frozen in my spot listening to them, wanting to hear more as well.
“Your fingers are huge,” My eyes widen a bit as I realize whose voice it belongs to and feel my entire body straighten up once more, I really shouldn’t be here, and almost as if on cue, I can see Lo’ak moving out of the way just enough for me to see her facial expressions and blood was starting to pump toward my cock, hardening at the sight of her face alone.
“That’s not the only thing thats huge-“ He states and I can practically hear the smirk in his voice, mentally rolling my eyes at his comment, but standing here while watching her face with the light of the moon and plants glowing in the dark of night had me palming my growing erection, begging to be released from the confines of my tewng.
“Go fa-faster, please-“ I can hear her breathing getting heavier and from the angle I can see her body at, I can tell she’s moving her hips against his fingers, hearing him groan as his gaze shifts downward.
“I could just watch you fuck yourself on my fingers instead, syulang.” He mumbles and she gasps right as I hear a wet squelching sound, indicating he’d started moving his fingers faster, I palmed myself faster, the slight pain of being kept hidden inside my tewng was making my stomach bubble with anticipation of needing to come.
“Fuck Lo, I’m close-“ She pants out and I watch as he withdraws his hands from her, her protests being louder than her moans from earlier, the fingers he’d been thrusting inside of her glistening with the light provided and my ears flicker back, a blush settling on my face, I stop the groan building in my throat and see Lo’ak bringing his wet fingers in his own mouth.
He groans at the taste and I can feel my jealousy grow, how lucky he must have been to get a taste of her on his tongue, my hands balled up into fists and I’m almost tempted to walk over and punch him, but I shamefully remembered the erection I was sporting, knowing it was between walking away and letting myself grow soft, or allowing myself the pleasures of watching their activities and coming while watching them, and I found myself sliding my tewng off, erection slapping my thigh and I look back up to find Lo’ak lining himself with her entrance.
“Fuck-“ I groan right when I see her face scrunch up as he inserts the tip, holding her up at the perfect angle to see every bit of her body, the eyes she had once shut had opened as she looks right at me, eyes widening a bit, taking in a breath as Lo’ak pushes in further.
_________
I bit my lip to stop myself from making any more noise and pawed at Lo’ak’s shoulder, I still kept eye contact with Neteyam and saw his hand gripping his already hardened cock, feeling myself squeeze around Lo’ak at the sight and seeing his green eyes look up at mine.
“This is what you wanted, no?” He asks me right as he slides in further and I gasp, a broken moan being ripped out of me and catching movement from the corner of my eye, snapping them back to the older brother and catching him stroking his cock.
“Oh fuck-“ I mutter as Lo’ak bottoms out, stretching my cunt wide just to fit himself in snugly, eyes on Neteyam, moaning at him, right as Lo’ak slides back out.
“Faster.” I command, watching as Neteyam picks up his pace and bites his own lip to keep his noise down, his shaft glistening as his precome seems to slide out his fat head like a river, allowing my pussy to flutter around Lo’ak. Feeling his pace pick up after I’d stated that and throwing my head back with a moan, hands gripping harshly at Lo’ak’s shoulders.
My eyes shut harshly right as Lo’ak places one of his hands around my neck, squeezing the sides gently, his cheek nuzzling mine.
“Open those pretty eyes syulang, let him know how good I’m making you feel.” He grunts in my ear before pulling his face away, squeezing on my neck more, my hips moving against his and the sounds coming from my pussy could not be mistaken for any other activity.
Lazily dragging my eyes over to Neteyam who’d been matching his brothers pace, he’d been staring at my cunt, but shifted his gaze toward mine the second I looked over. I could tell he was breathing heavily, by the desperate look on his face, his hips starting to meet his hands thrusts, and how he’d squeezed the head right as he stroked it, I knew he was close.
“Lemme come, please-“ I whine, attempting to keep my legs spread, just to give Neteyam the view he’d been staring at this entire time.
“Of course you can.” Lo’ak grunts as he picks up the pace.
“N-not you, Teyam, lemme come, please.”
Any and every feeling in my body was set on fire as Neteyam faltered in his own ministrations as the realization hits, but picks up his pace again and groans freely, my own hips attempting to meet the fast pace Lo’ak has set.
“Fuck, thats hot,” Lo’ak moans lightly, ears pressed back as he squeezes harder on my neck, but my eyes never leave Neteyam’s.
“Please, m’close!” I beg just to finally see his nod of approval and allow myself to leg go, the waves of ecstasy crashing over my body, biting my lip in an attempt to keep my eyes open, watching Neteyam spill over his fists, Lo’ak never faltering in his pace as he comes inside.
“So how about next time I watch?” The man directly in front of me asks and although I’m still weak in the knees from the post-orgasmic bliss I make a face but smile at his comment, nodding my head lightly.
“You’re the biggest dumbass-“ Neteyam calls out only to get cut off by his brother.
“She said yes.”
“She said yes?”
#avatar#avatar smut#avatar the way of water smut#afab reader#human reader#avatar the way of water#lunaskinktober2023#loak x reader#neteyam#loak smut#loak
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whattt about going to the bar with your friend nathan works at and he tries so hard to get your attention by showing tricks and telling you random facts at the most random times while talking to your friends and he eventually convinces you to go home with him :)
ask box | taglist | blurb masterlist | main masterlist
w/c: 893
warnings: mentions of drinking and suggestiveness
a/n: i’m having way too much fun writing for nate y’all keep the requests coming! also sorry for the wait i had a little writer’s block again but it passed lmfhdjsj i hope you enjoy
it’s a typical night at the bar for nathan.
mix boujee drinks for customers with money to spare, make small talk with coworkers to pass the time. he enjoys his job, and he’s damn good at it. not many bartenders can pull off the tricks he does or tell you the history of drinks while concocting them. it’s a skill. it gets him extra tips, too. but as much as he enjoys his job, it’s predictable.
it’s a typical night at the bar for nathan until you walk in.
you instantly catch his attention in the little dress and strappy heels you wear. your smile when you laugh at something your friend says, accentuated by your lipstick, stops him in the middle of pouring someone a drink.
tonight just got interesting.
nathan absentmindedly pours the drink into the glass, eyes glued to you. you’re making your way up to the bar. the customer he’s serving has to pull the glass away before it overflows. they leave the bar with their drink, muttering a complaint under their breath.
that leaves an open stool open at the bar, and you take it. your friend stands beside you. nathan dries his hands off with a rag and throws it over his shoulder, looking between you and your friend.
“evening, ladies. what can i get you?”
“vodka soda lime, please.”
“i’ll have the same.”
nathan raises a brow at you, grabbing the glasses to make your drinks.
“lemme see your ID?”
you get it from your wallet and show it to him. he reads it over while cleaning out one of the glasses.
“y/n y/l/n.”
“and you are?”
“nathan, nathan drake. could i call ya y/n/n?”
“only if i can call you nate.”
nathan grins and sets down the cleaned glasses.
“call me anything you want.”
a smile tugs at your lips. your friend scoffs.
“you could put away your ID now. i just wanted to get your name.”
“how about asking instead of carding her?”
“yeah, nate. how about asking?”
you lean your chin in your hand, looking up at him through your lashes.
“i think the former was much smoother, y/n/n. don’t you? besides, it’s policy.”
nathan meets your eyes. there’s something between the two of you, you both feel it, but your friend interrupts again.
“what’s the status on our drinks?”
“coming right up, ladies.”
you smile fully at him, then break off into conversation with your friend. nate starts your drinks.
he gathers a shaker and bottles of vodka and club soda. you see him swing the vodka behind his head from the corner of your eye. intrigued, you turn to watch him. he flips the shaker in the air with one hand and catches it with another. a laugh of disbelief leaves your lips.
he’d hoped that trick would impress you. it’s always a fan favorite.
nate sends you a smirk from across the bar counter. you’re about to say something when your friend grabs your arm, making you turn back towards her. you continue your conversation while nate gets back to work on your drinks.
he scoops ice into the shaker and pours in vodka, then shakes and pours the chilled vodka into the glasses. he tops them off with club soda, lime juice, and a slice of lime in each glass for garnish. he slides the glasses towards you two.
“two vodka soda limes. enjoy.”
you trace a finger around the rim of your glass, lips forming a smirk.
“we will. thanks, nate.”
“yeah, thanks. let’s go, y/n/n.”
your friend picks up her drink and leaves the counter. you start to follow, but nate speaks up.
“vodka’s made with some pretty weird additives, y’know. fermented fruits, grains, sometimes even potatoes.”
“potatoes?”
“gives it a richer flavor.”
you squint at your drink.
“is this one made with potatoes?”
“nah, not too many brands use that method. only three percent of vodkas worldwide.“
“really?”
“really. go ahead, try it.”
you tentatively sniff your drink before deciding to take a sip. you hum in satisfaction, licking your shimmery lips when you’re done.
“whatcha think?”
“it’s good.”
“just good?”
nathan crosses his arms, tilting his head to the side. you sip some more of your drink, eyes locked with his.
“really good.”
you suck on the lime. nate watches your lips.
“could i get ya another?”
“i should find my friend. i’ll be back later, though.”
“that’s too bad, my shift’s just about over.”
“aw, i don’t want you to go. i like you and your fun facts.”
nate rests his elbows on the counter and lowers his head so it’s level with yours.
“you could come with me. i’ve got plenty more where those came from.”
“i dunno, i can’t leave my friend.”
“i think she’ll be alright.”
nathan nods out at the crowd. she’s right in the center, dancing with a group of girls. you shake your head lightheartedly.
“tell you what. if you’re worried, i could ask someone to keep an eye on her.”
“you wanna take me home that bad, huh?”
“isn’t it obvious?”
you laugh and push at nate’s arm.
“your friend’s kind of a cock block, anyway.”
“oh, totally. but now that you’ve got me alone, what do you wanna do with me, nate?”
nathan tosses aside the towel that’s over his shoulder.
“i’ll get us a ride.”
tags: @hollandsangel @parkerctrl @inthegetawaycarwithtaylah
#nathan drake#nathan drake x reader#nathan drake x you#nathan drake fic#nathan drake smut#nathan drake fluff#nathan drake fanfiction#nathan drake imagine#uncharted#tom holland uncharted#tom holland#tom holland smut#tom holland fluff#tom holland x reader#tom holland x you#tom holland writing#tom holland fic
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vanilla production facts
it is an orchid
the flower blooms one day per year and must be manually pollinated. pollination causes the base of the flower to swell almost immediately, from there it takes weeks to develop into a seed pod
vanilla costs about $300/lb. this being the pulp of the fruit itself, the extract we are familiar with is dilute. second only to saffron for expense. the price also tends to fluctuate greatly depending on the abundance of any given year's crops
there are three strains of cultivated vanilla. cultivation dates as far back as the totonac people in the 12th century, who live in present day veracruz, on the eastern coast of mexico. the olmecs may have also used wild vanilla in cooking thousands of years earlier
vanilla was cultivated in european botanical gardens but not really used much for 300 years after the colombian invasion of mesoamerica until finally some idiot realized the melipona bee doesn't live there, which may not have even been the correct type of bee (possibly euglossine)
five years later (1841) a 12-year-old slave named edmond albius on the island of reunion figured out how to manually pollinate the flowers, which is an extremely delicate and difficult process. some french botanist claimed to have invented this process, and people believed him for over a century
the aroma doesn't develop until after the seed pod is harvested and processed. it must be sorted, graded, blanched, then alternately sweated and dried for 15-30 days. the blanching halts fermentation, which makes one wonder, what is a fermented vanilla seed pod like?
synthetic vanillin is derived from eugenol, from clove oil, and lignin, from any number of sources. the vast majority of synthetic vanilla is made from wood creosotes which occur as a product of lignin pyrolysis (fire). its major source is, like anything, the petrochemical industry, which requires heat to fractionally distill oil into several byproducts (kerosene, naphtha, gasoline, etc). which is to say, 85% of synthetic vanilla is made from the wood smoke of the oil industry. you might be inclined to ask "doesn't this pollute" which, if you recapture the smoke to sell its particulate creosotes to synthetic vanilla producers, no, i guess not really, or "why don't they use oil to heat the oil" because it is more profitable to sell the oil and burn wood to make it, obviously
it is difficult to tell the difference between natural and synthetic vanilla in baked goods, because the baking process burns off the distinctive notes, most of which differ by growing region (tahitian vanilla is floral, indonesian vanilla is smoky, mexican vanilla is woody or spicy, bourbon vanilla from reunion has an alcoholic richness)
price markup occurs not at the point of farming, but after the point of curing. there is no set price for green vanilla beans, but there is a set price for dried vanilla beans, after they have passed through several middlemen from farmer to broker to curing. after this point, they are marked up several more times before finally making it to grocery store shelves in the form of bottled extract
in 2017 a cyclone destroyed maybe 30-80% of madagascan vanilla crops, where possibly as much as 60-80% of the global supply of vanilla is grown. in the 5 years since then, the price has not recovered, but boy howdy, have the labels gotten more fancy in specifying when it's from madagascar, haven't they?
70% of madagascar lives below the poverty line, despite the island producing the majority of the world's supply of the second most expensive spice
by volume, the number of vanilla beans imported to the united states every year is nearly two for every single member of the population (~640m, for a ~330m population)
anyway stop pouring a whole bottle of it into a cup for a joke what the fuck is wrong with you people i hope to god that ibuprofen potion post was staged with some vaguely brown liquid. also the word vanilla etymologically derives from the latin vagina meaning sheath ok bye
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What kind of drunk would the villagers of SDV be? 👀
Heh, it was so funny to write the answer to this ask right after my own hangover. Quite the experience, I would say 😅
I hope, anon, you don't mind if I don't write about Evelyn and George and the kids on this ask, because trying to imagine them drunk... is an unpleasant thought for me. But I will describe all the others (if I do not forget about someone). Thanks for your ask! ❤️
Drunk SDV villagers (except Evelyn, George and kids):
Oh what music! After 3 or 4 glasses of sambuca, Emily feels much more energetic (even more than usual) and simply has to find a potential victim partner to dance until they both fall to exhaustion. In the morning, however, she does not remember anything.
In general, Sebastian despises the taste of alcohol, but somehow he decided to try something like Amaretto coffee or Irish coffee (basically coffee with liqueur or whiskey). Yuck, Sebby didn't appreciate it. The taste of alcohol is terrible and now he feels sleepy and weak. And he can't ride his motorcycle in that condition. It sucks, now he's a mischievous and sleepy drunk.
Jodi is always busy cleaning the house and cooking, so she has almost no time to relax. But if she does get a chance to have a glass of wine with Caroline and Marnie, then she will be more cheerful and a little more chatty, nothing hardcore.
Preferring more green tea and coffee, Caroline, however, also agrees to hang out with friends with the bottle of something strong. Being slightly drunk from a couple of glasses of wine, Caroline will chuckle at her friends' every joke, and may even decide to order a stronger drink. True, all the energy leaves quickly and she immediately becomes drowsy drunk.
Cheerful and energetic, Abigail is ready to conquer mountains after a few strong cocktails. A drunk girl teeters on the edge of "noisy party soul" and "I'm ready to get into any fight for my homies." Luckily, she's not drunk enough to stubbornly go into the mines with a sword in her condition.
Marnie, having drunk about 5 glasses of wine, becomes flirty drunk. And Lewis's slightly angry comments about the fact that she can work on their secret relationship does not bother her at all. It's been a long time since she felt so cheerful and carefree, just like when she was young, ah...
Lewis, meanwhile, teeters somewhere between "paranoid drunk" and "sleazy drunk." At his age, it's not very useful to drink so much alcohol, and now to keep an eye on Marnie, who, as he thinks, will now blather everything about the two of them to everyone. Damn it, you can rest calmly without worries, you old fart.
Let's race, who's faster? Or let's fight on the hands? Alex wants the competition to prove that even though he's a little tipsy, he's still the best. Although the next day he will be ashamed if during the fun he broke some dishes or chair, and apologize to everyone.
Shane canonically is a depressed drunk. He sits in a corner of the Saloon and drinks mostly alone. Please don't touch him, otherwise he will transform from a depressed drunk into an angry drunk. And you definitely don't want to see Shane drunk AND angry.
If the Saloon has karaoke, then Elliott will be always there after drinking mugs of strong ale or wine. Apart from his loud singing, he becomes reckless enough to spontaneously do anything. Gus or the others often help Elliott get home before the failed singer (sorry Elliott, but you write so much better than you sing) hurts himself or others. The poor guy would later lock himself up in his cabin for a couple of days when he found out about his drunken adventures.
After an extra drink, Sam suddenly becomes overly affectionate and touchy-feely. In a state of intoxication, it seems to him that he did not hug someone enough, or that he was not hugged enough. Hug him please, he's like a little puppy.
Linus doesn't drink alcohol, but sometimes in the harvest seasons in the forest he often comes across fermented fruits and berries. Linus almost always processes them carefully before eating so that he doesn't get more intoxicated during dinner, but sometimes he can occasionally eat some raw fermented grapes before bed. He perfectly understands which fruits are more fermented or less. But he treats this without fanaticism, because the main goal is to eat, not get drunk.
"What if? No, it's impossible. But what if I use that formula, and... Nah, it still won't work. But what if I... No no no. Or maybe yes? Or maybe..." The constant ebb and flow of ideas for new inventions is a typical behavior for Maru when she has a drink that is quite strong for her. This will continue until she falls asleep. It is good that her brother is nearby and help her.
Ah, for old Willy there's nothing better than a bottle of mead after a hard day of fishing. So to speak, to celebrate a successful catch. He most often drinks alone, even when in the Saloon, but can occasionally tell his fishing stories to Marlon, Gil, or Clint with a few drinks. And no matter how much he drinks, he will remain the same. Honestly, as if in the mug not alcohol, but just water!
Penny will never touch a drink, but there was a case when she accidentally drank Sam's cocktail, confusing it with her glass of juice. She immediately became sloppy drunk, embarrassed by her condition and making haste to get home. Penny doesn't understand how her mother can enjoy such a state.
Oh, the doctor knows that in small doses, wine can even be beneficial to the body. But when, by coincidence, Harvey has to drink more than his body can handle, then this is a complete blackout. He doesn't remember anything and prays that he did not do anything obscene.
Pam is an aggressive drunk. This is even more noticeable when her order for another beer is delayed by more than five minutes. Mostly this is a verbal skirmish, Pam will not show physical aggression (unless it concerns her daughter. For her sake, she will grab anyone by the throat, and she does not need alcohol for this).
Usually Wizard is always strict about alcohol, but there are times when you just want to get drunk. Given that he always drinks alone, he is most often sad drunk, remembering the old days when he and his ex were still together. If anyone (Farmer) wants to console him, then let them mentally prepare for an hour-long story about his ex-wife, youth, and that "the grass used to be greener."
Marlon will also remember the old days with a glass of whiskey along with Gil, but unlike the same Wizard, Marlon's stories are more filled with fun and excitement. Usually he is strict and silent, but when a little drunk, he opens up a little more, with his comrade remembering their adventures when the young guys just embarked on the path of an adventurer. These old people deserve some rest and fun.
Pierre considers a couple of strong cocktails a well-deserved reward after a hard week at work. The alcohol in his blood makes him more talkative, but now his tongue is tangled up so that you no longer understand whether Pierre asked to repeat the order, or somehow insulted you.
The last cocktail was obviously superfluous, but Haley didn't care. She wants to have fun, and why is the music so quiet, and let's all dance, and she already changed her mind don't touch her, and anyway where is her other cocktail? Cheerful, energetic, but at the same time more capricious - this is how it goes.
Kent has been very wary of drinking since he returned to Stardew Valley. After all he's been through, it's very easy to drown at the bottom of the bottle, and he doesn't want to get to that point. He still has his family. So he asks Gus, Marlon or Willy to stop him if he gets depressed drunk after a mug of beer or two.
Ah, the tango began to play in the music machine! Robin will not miss the opportunity to dance with her husband to passionate music. She usually asks her husband, but after a few sips of ale, Robin pulled Demetrius off the table and onto the dance floor with almost one tug.
The same Demetrius, after drinking, was very sleepy, but the whole life flashed before the eyes of the poor scientist, when his dearest wife grabbed his hand and he heard the words "tango". Demetrius loves Robin and will not refuse her a dance, but still, a strong drink affected the scientist's vestibular apparatus, and he dances no better than a rag doll. But it looks funny Maru and Sebastian will definitely film this on camera as compromising evidence for the future.
Clint has a fairly high tolerance for alcohol, so he probably drinks almost every day. Even in the cinema, he manages to smuggle alcohol under the guise of Joja Cola. So you can call him secret drunk: no matter how much he drinks, he does not look drunk. Just like Willy.
#stardew valley#sdv#sdv headcanons#sdv marlon#sdv maru#sdv marnie#sdv abigail#sdv penny#sdv shane#sdv kent#sdv sebastian#sdv alex#sdv willy#sdv harvey#sdv jodi#sdv caroline#sdv sam#sdv elliott#sdv emily#sdv haley#sdv lewis#sdv linus#sdv gil#sdv wizard#sdv pam#sdv robin#sdv demetrius#sdv clint#sdv pierre#sorry if i forgot someone
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I wanna found out more abt ralak.. like how old he is.. just the normal description yk?
Of course love❤️ Here’s some basic stuff about him:
• He is a 24 years old na’vi, well developed and very mature
• He is now one of the best warriors (Tonowari’s right hand) but his former occupation was fisherman
• His height reaches 9.5 feet (290 cms)
• His nicknames are “Tik-Tak/Tak/Lak” (cause of the sounds he makes when he calls the ilu/tsurak)
• He’s a man of few words, calm and contained, but can be scary in his angry form
• Libido is 3 out of 5 points, his rut is aggressive and strong, can be calmed down within days not hours, his stamina is high, praying for his mate
• Seems innocent, is not so innocent
• Likes cooking, crafting spears and other weapons and taking care of them (sharpening, polishing etc), fishing and swimming (+ night bathing in small pools)
• Hates lies, deception, preconceptions and can’t stand betrayal (in any form), blackmailing, taking advantage of people and most of the sky people (some are acceptable for/to him)
• He doesn’t necessarily like being a warrior, he strives for the peaceful fisherman life he had, but honor and duty spoke louder so he had to take the role of being Tonowari’s right hand without saying a word
• He is a morning person, has a lot of chores and duty to attend to, he is a perfectionist and sometimes jealous (but not overly possessive)
• Sometimes he consumes alcohol (as @tiredmamaissy ‘s golden quote “Bottle of fermented fruit..”), he has a trauma from the time he was ‘coming of age’ and so he’s very reluctant about opening up to others
• He raises tsuraks and is in charge of them, he is very close to his animals, a lot more than he is to people
#Ralak’s notes#Ralak’s description#traits and characteristics#anon ask#chatting with noonies#with love#❤️#Ralak talks
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Wines Inspired by Characters
Henry Oak from Dungeons and Daddies [FULL EXPLANATION]
Starting off the series with one of my favorite characters from the podcast here's some notes I've written down for the wine.
Grape Type:
So Henry having a vegetarian/vegan diet I wanted something that would pair nicely with this. There were mentions of foods like Trail Mix, Nuts, Mushrooms and dried oats and a few wines fit perfectly with this but since Chardonnay is known for it's buttery taste due to it's fermentation in OAK Barrels the choice was a bit obvious.
Dry or Sweet?
Plus, this type of wine is known for being either sweet or dry depending on the temperature it was grown in. I feel like this reflects Henry's personality as he's both super sweet caring and very much a pacifist but also dry, angry and stressed.
Body
So, the body reflects not only on the amount of alcohol the wine has but also, it's acidity, color and tannins.
Acidity is sour and makes your mouth water but tannins dry your mouth.
That being said, medium body just means that there is a balance between both tannins and acidity and that it's within a 12.5%-13.5% alcohol level. Oaked Chardonnays are known for this.
The alcohol level is reflected on the amount of natural sugar the grapes have which can vary by the soil type, climate and variant.
This does NOT reflect on the overall sweetness of the wine.
Sweet wines usually have lower alcohol levels than bold wine since most of the glucose is broken up and fermented during the process there for making more alcohol.
Flavors and Aromas:
Several sommeliers have explained that flavors and Aromas AND will vary depending on the pallet. There are a few that are more noticeable to several but others that aren't. That is part of the magic and art of wine tasting.
That being said for Henry's Inspired wine I did use some fruits mentioned in his dialog during season 1. More specifically this quote:
What the freakin ding dang, gosh darn, dilly willy, heckin' shark tooth, banana chicanery, rootin' tootin', raspberry freaking FUCK are you two doing here?!
-Henry Oak (Dungeons and Daddies Season 1)
Although banana and shark tooth aren't main notes for this wine, I feel like Henry would use these terms to describe it. Raspberry on the other hand WOULD be a nice main note, alongside the classic vanilla and Oak combo from classic chardonnay with a hint of green apple, Jazmin and general minerals. Those last three I feel reflect Oakville a lot beside the obvious OAK.
Bottle Design
The main label reflects the physical appearance of the character both in its podcast cover and in the character's intro from Will Campos.
"Henry Oak is the Birkenstock rocking, crunchy, munchy, hippie, nature druid dad of the group."
Wanted to stick with the colors from the Cover art but with a more neutral tone so that it matches the colors and hue of this hypothetical wine.
Having the iconic Berkenstocks in the background on a rocky stone grown with vines growing around it, just felt like the perfect vision for Henry. And as a little homage to on of the several dadfacts I added a Trilobite insignia on the top of the wine cap.
Finally, I added the important info such as where it would have been produced, by what bodega and when. Obviously, Oakville in the Forgotten Realms would have been an interesting place to grow grapes. Bodega Daddies because it sounds both funny and well fitted and finally it's from 2019 because that's when Henry Oak first appeared in the first episode of that same year.
And I think that just about does it!!!
Thank you so much for reading and I'll be following up with the next wine of the series. Which character should I make a wine for next?
#dndads#dndaddies#dndads season 2#dndads s2#henry oak#lark oak#sparrow oak garcia#dungeons and daddies season 1#dungeons and daddies fanart#wine design#wine description#wine tasting#FICTIONAL CHARACTERS AS WINE#Soffsketches
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Y/n , looking at their reflection: Now, that's rubbish. Who's that supposed to be?
Narrator : Well, that's you.
Y/n : Me?! Is that what I look like?
Narrator : You don't know?
Y/n : Busy day.
---
Narrator : Don’t be sad!
Y/n : Why not?
Narrator :
Narrator : I don’t have a good answer.
---
Y/n : How’s practice going?
Narrator : Terrible. I want to stab everybody there.
Y/n : Okay, just don’t get any blood on your clothes.
Narrator : …you shouldn’t be condoning this.
Y/n : Don’t tell me how to live my life.
---
Y/n : I’m having salad for dinner!
Narrator :
Y/n : Well, fruit salad.
Y/n : Actually, it’s mostly grapes.
Narrator :
Y/n : Okay, it’s all grapes.
Y/n : Fermented grapes.
Narrator :
Y/n :
Narrator :
Y/n : It’s wine.
Y/n : I’m having wine for dinner.
---
Narrator : Y/n , why are you crying?
Y/n : This book is so sad!!
Narrator , picking it up: But this is my diary-
---
Y/n : Why am I the bad guy?
Narrator : I don't know, why am I the pretty one? We all have our thing.
---
Narrator : Bottling up negative emotions is bad for your health, so you shouldn't do it.
Y/n : I know, that's why I bottle up all my emotions, both positive and negative, so it cancels out.
Narrator : Th-that's not how that works-
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I wrote this last night extra horned up and tired 😂 forgive me for any errors or just plain shit writing but I couldn’t stop thinking about Ralak coming home from a long day and we’re just laying on the bed spread and expecting him to take care of us but he’s a little miserable and grumpy so he uses us for stress relief instead 😭
MDNI!! 🔞🔞
One particular night he comes home late from his duties with Tonowari and as he walks through the door you’re already naked and spread for him. Legs wide open and glistening pussy on full display. Your hole clenches around nothing and it’s more than obvious that you’ve been waiting very very patiently for your cock to come home. Your wetness is overflowing, sticky and thick as it drips onto your cot to soak your sheet. He has a glance and his gaze hardens instantly. His jaw tenses and you can barely see the minuscule jump of his brow bone. Then he looks away, seemingly unbothered and unclasps his gear from his chest and allows it to thud onto the floor. He walks past you and begins putting his damp hair into a messy bun, back turned to you.
“Tahnì.”
He says it as he reaches for a bottle on the top shelf, something he’d usually do after Tonowari worked him hard into the ground. He hastily pops the cork out and takes swig right then and there. Then another. And another. And after a few loud gulps he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and walks past you, bottle in hand. He plops himself down onto a wooden stool in the corner of the marui, getting himself comfortable as he leans back and props open his legs, settling the hand holding his bottle between his thighs.
Then his eyes snap up to you. Taking in every detail of the sight before him. Of the show you’re putting on for him. Because it is a show, right? There’s no way you could have yourself so widely spread for him to come home after a long day to deal with. Right? His stare turns a little dark when you see his eyes narrow and become lidded. It has you closing your legs in shame and even crossing them too. He takes a sloppy swig, allowing some of the pxir to drip down his chin. A sigh puffs past his lips after he swallows the bitter liquid.
“Fuck yourself.”
Not only do you rarely hear this man curse, but he also rarely expected you to do his ‘duty’ for him. But tonight is different. Tonight Tonowari more than worked him into the ground. His rut is close and he’s tired. No, not tired—exhausted. Wound up and in dire need of release. And after that first few swigs he quickly realized that a bottle of fermented fruit wouldn’t cut it, and if you’re going to be such a needy little thing then he may as well make good use of you.
Yet you stare at him in awe, flustered and unsure of what to do next even though he just stated it plain and simple. You watch him reach for the knot of his tewng, and how he untethers it effortlessly to reveal his half hard cock. You nervously uncross your legs, allowing your knees to fall apart, revealing your swollen pussy. It’s all sticky now, having your legs crossed smeared your slick all over and it only spreads the scent of your arousal into the air even more. He inhales longingly, letting out another sigh as he brings the bottle to his lips. Before he knocks it back he raises a brow and repeats,
“I said to fuck yourself, y/n.”
Your fingers start working away before your brain could even process his tone of voice or the fact that he called you by your name. It’s too slippery and you can’t get a good grip on yourself to feel much pleasure but it didn’t really matter. The nervous tingle in your tummy that he has you feeling is enough to keep your fingers busy. You watch as his cock grows in his lap, lifting off his thigh to lay on his stomach. God, that only makes it more slippery and even harder for you to feel much. You’re letting out frustrated moans and stuttering your hips just to touch yourself right. You finally shove in a couple fingers and fuck yourself with them, pumping them in and out of your cunt. But even that isn’t enough for you. You need something thicker. Something bigger.
His eyes gloss over with lust and grow even heavier now that the pxir is doing its job. He huffs out a breath and reaches for his cock, keeping his stare fixed onto you. He begins stroking his length, grunting each time he squeezes his cockhead. Precum spills into his fisted hand and dribbles down his wrist. And fuck, did that make you squirm and your fingers work a little faster. You scissor yourself open for him, exposing exactly where you’d like that huge thing to be stuffed. He strokes a little faster, brows scrunching together as he intently watches you quite literally spread yourself for his viewing pleasure. He groans from how empty you look without him inside you and it almost makes him cum right then.
“Another finger.”
It’s a demand, no doubt. He wants you to fill yourself up, stuff your cunt with fingers until he can see how stretched your little hole can get. He wants to see if your own fingers could even be a match for his cock, even though he already knew the answer. You close your eyes and stuff another finger inside yourself, actually feeling some sort of real pleasure now. He could see it too, it’s contorted into your face and evident from the way your inner thighs tremble. Your head sinks back into the bed from pleasure as you repeatedly smack your hooked fingers into yourself, blissfully unaware of the sound of his bottle hitting the floor. You can’t hold back your moans now, the budding pleasure is too raw but it’s just not enough. You’re still yearning for more. For the familiar sensation of his cock filling you until it stung and the unrelenting force of his thrusts. You start begging without you even knowing it.
“Please—Please, Ralak. Please!”
“Say what you need, little one.”
His voice booms over you, loud and clear. He’s towering over you now, cock in hand as he stares down at you with a hungry look in his eyes. You look up at him, pinched brows and flushed cheeks, begging him with your eyes that he put you out your misery. You glance down at his cock and see that it’s throbbing in his hand—throbbing to be stuffed inside your pussy. You know he wants it just as bad now. You know he’s a few swigs too deep to keep his composure. Leaving yourself empty, you reach out and wrap your slimy fingers around his cock, tugging it as you guide him to your slit.
“Want this. Right here.”
He wastes not another second and plunges himself inside you to the hilt, his mushroomy cockhead bullying it’s way to your cervix. The pxir is heavy on his breath as he praises you for your stress relieving warmth and tightness.
“Hnng—my good muntxate.”
——
#avatar smut#awow smut#high issy talks#smut avatar#smut awow#Ralak smut#ralak x y/n#ralak x female reader#ralak x you#ralak x reader#Ralak Sepwan#metkayina x omaticay smut#metkayina x omaticaya#metkayina smut#metkayina oc#metkayina#avatar oc smut#avatar oc#ralak#ralak smut
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Etoile gently turns the wine bottle in their paws
Etoile: I'm unable to feel the effects of the fermented fruit.. But it's still a fruit juice. So I still enjoy it.. Fruit was definitely one of Arceus' best plant life choices...
Etoile: I don't eat much. I don't need to. But it's.. nice to have a treat now and again, hmm?
Etoile: I wonder if little Allie would enjoy this... He seems quite keen on drinking tonight. Can't help but wonder why I seem to make him so nervous~
Etoile doesn't answer your question further, not with words anyways.
Why ruin a lovely evening
- - - -
[ Anon ]
[ Background by @/sinnohsiblings ]
#chrono#Etoile#sinsibgala#eye contact#staring#sfw#anon#mew#pokemon ask#pokemon ask blog#alcohol mention
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