What if Eclipse from AP was a naga? And this took place in the deep jungle of the amazon, where photographer y/n is trying to take pictures of the wildlife?
I'm vibrating at the speed of sound over this ask while also nudging my naga au
Naga Eclipse from AP would have the tail of a Green Anaconda, with an olive green scaly color dotted with black, framed by burning-like flares of orange along the length of his slithery body. He's also decorated with orange-yellow striping on either side of his long, slipper form. His upper half is scaley with a lithe deadliness to his musculature and decorated by frills surrounding his head with brighter orange-yellow colors, almost hypnotic in their gradient hues. One eye is deep emerald green, and one is midnight blue.
Lucky you—you're out on a once-in-a-lifetime expedition to explore a jungle closed off to the public, funded by Fazco, and occupied by two researchers who will be your bunkmates for the next few weeks. You're itching to take photos of the large river, including swamps, marshes and streams, and whatever wildlife is out there.
The few locals you did meet before you left to hike the rest of the way to what would be your new, isolated home warned you of a dangerous snake—a large, mythical beast. You take note of the local folklore. You understand the truth is hidden in there somewhere, and you are well aware of the dangers and diseases you could be met with in such a harsh environment, but you're determined.
It doesn't take long for you to feel eyes watching you when you first venture out by yourself. You take beautiful pictures of freshwater fish, big and beautiful, unlike any you have ever seen. Of course, you have hundreds of snapshots of the local flora, the trees, the floating meadows, the thick vines that drape each branch and hang thickly about the ground. You almost forget that you eerily don't feel alone.
But you swear something moves in the water—the ripples stop as soon as you look. The stillness is suddenly stiff, lifeless. Even the birds have stopped chirping.
You lower your camera and carefully put it away. A trickle of fear slips into your heart. You turn away from the river's edge only to be met by a low hiss and a creature, unlike anything you witnessed in your travels, spooling itself neatly out of the water, blocking your path to the base. An incredible creature with long arms and a great, serpentine tail that seems to stretch for yards and yards. You can hardly breathe in his presence—he's otherworldly with his frills and scales and fangs.
His eyes contain a mesmerizing shine as if staring into a fire as it burns or watching the ocean as it laps up against the beach, drawing your attention, demanding you don't look away. You couldn't anyway. Half-frozen, you struggle to keep from collapsing. He beckons with a sharp talon. He hisses softly for you to come closer, mouse. He wants to see you. You try to beg no without revealing how terribly you tremble. He doesn't let you go. He insists. His eyes flash with an allure. You almost step close when he murmurs that you need to be good.
But then your sense of survival kicks adrenaline into your heart, and you turn to run—
He strikes faster than your eyes can follow. Two loops of his green and orange tail surrounded you in an instant. You're dragged to the ground, your arms pinned under his mass, and the back of your head cradled by his large palm as powerful muscles squeeze you in the slightest—a gentle rebuke for thinking you could get away. You're hyper-aware of the terrifying bulk of muscles as you lie trapped in his coils. One strong twist and your eyes could pop out of your skull, and every bone protecting your heart and lungs would crumble to shards. You gasp. An urge to kick your legs and struggle erupts in your panic; a sinking feeling tells you it would only make things worse.
He coos over you, hissing and humming in an ancient song of the jungle you have no name for. When you whimper, he shushes you and strokes your cheek. He tells you how lovely you'll be. When you talk back to him, somehow finding your tongue amid your horror, you find out his name. Eclipse. He moves you more upright, resting you on his tail so you're not petrified by how vulnerable you feel lying down, but he never loosens his scaly bindings. He hovers over you. You gaze into his stunning frills of yellow-orange and wonder how a being like him came to exist. He studies you as you study him. He grins at how you shiver when he traces your collarbone with a sharp fingertip.
You remind yourself that you can still breathe. He hasn't crushed you—yet—but you don't like how wide his smile is. Sometimes, his jaw stretches a little too long as if dislocating from his skull, ready to devour you. His eyes gleam with a ravenousness as scales twist around you, holding you close enough to smell the slick green water he had been in and deep musk.
He tells you that he'll see you again very soon—away from other humans, lest you bring him a fine gift for a meal. You can only flex your fingers, silently pleading in your heart that he won't unhook his jaw and eat you alive.
Then, he unravels himself from your limbs. But before he lets you go entirely, he leans in close, his serpentine tongue flickering close to your neck and by your hair, tasting the air around you as you muster all your strength to not scream. He inhales deeply, pleased, before he murmurs, "Sweet mouse. You are mine. Say it."
You don't understand, but you echo his command, and when he taps your chin once in what might have been a loving gesture, you force your jelly legs to solidify before you run and run, all the way back to base. You slam the door to your room behind you. You touch your ribs, your arms, still caught in the heavy sensation of his loops as if he were upon you right now.
The stories are true—there is a giant snake in this jungle, and he wants you. You're afraid to discover if Eclipse's intrigue with you is only an exotic way to satisfy his hunger.
327 notes
·
View notes
for ypur 1k game can i get a "lady of the house" + ghoap💋
1k game here - no more please!
you said lady so im assuming you meant ghoap x reader <3
2.5k of a kinda historical au ft. flirty stablehand johnny x kinda shy reader x very horny simon (cw for oral sex in a public place, though there's no audience except a few horses)
Your husband's staff seems to have no concept of propriety.
No, no, that's not fair to most of the servants. Your husband's stablehand has no concept of propriety.
You'd complain to Simon, but he's hardly around to find most days. While the two of you share a bedchamber, that's nearly the only time you see him. You're lucky to even share a meal with the man, these days. The housekeeper tells you he's holed up in his office more often than not, and that feels like a clear sign that he would rather not be bothered. You two aren't particularly close, so you're more than content to find other ways of amusing yourself.
You've spent most of your time since moving into the manor with your mare, a gift from husband on your wedding night. She's a lovely beast and you've found great joys on long rides with her, despite the persistent ache in your thighs recently.
But that stablehand... Johnny's too handsome for his own good and he knows it, more than willing to flirt with you even though his own master has a claim, and too skilled for you to really ignore.
You hate that you've become so endeared to him, but it's impossible to ignore his flirtatious remarks. You've been a bit starved for affection since your marriage, and Johnny really isn't bad company by any means.
In fact, as much as you know you shouldn't, you can't help but feel a bit excited as you venture down to the stables to go on your daily ride.
You're halfway there when you're joined by someone new, a large figure suddenly walking shoulder to shoulder with you. He nearly makes you jump out of you skin, but you calm a bit at the sight of your elusive husband.
"Oh!" You gasp, pressing a hand over your chest. "You nearly gave me a heart attack."
He inclines his head a bit, wrapping one hand around your elbow as you continue to walk. "My apologies. I thought I might join you on your ride today."
You're not sure how he knew where you'd be, but you take the new company in stride. "I'd enjoy that."
You're silent for the rest of the walk, not entirely comfortable in this veritable stranger's presence quite yet. Your spouse is an intimidating man, and you've hardly spent any time with him, so there's very little comfort to be found in his presence. What little time you have spent together has been in the bedroom and well... if you think of that for too long you'll go red in the face.
"Ah, the lady of the house!" Johnny calls as you enter the stables, stepping away from your mare. "You're late, my lady."
You giggle a bit at his tease. "My apologies, Johnny, I didn't realize you were on a schedule."
His smile grows and he leans against the gate to one of the stalls. "I simply have certain expectations of you, my lady - you're quite the creature of habit."
"You two have gotten close, then?" Your husband asks, and you're swiftly reminded of his presence. Your face flames at how easily you'd shown your friendship with Johnny off in front of a man you're meant to marry.
"I'm sorry," you demure, glancing up at Simon and feeling relief when you find him looking merely curious, not angry. "Johnny's- Mr. MacTavish has been helping me learn to take care of the mare you gifted me, and we've... developed a bit of a friendship in our afternoons spent together."
Simon hums, nodding to himself as his eyes flick between you and the stablehand. The only sign that Johnny is even the slightest bit fazed is the way he straightens up from where he was leaning, back straight and shoulders rolled back.
"No disrespect meant, sir," he apologizes. "Your wife is a lovely creature, I couldn't resist getting to know her a bit better."
"Yes, she is quite enchanting," Simon says quietly, guiding you a bit closer to Johnny. "You're unmarried, aren't you Johnny?"
He nods, and the two of you share a slightly confused look.
"And do you have any prospects?"
Johnny clears his throat, a tinge of red lighting up his cheeks. "No, sir."
Simon hums again, his thumb stroking over the crook of your elbow.
"Have you been taking care of my wife in my absence, Johnny?"
Now he really does blush, and you feel the same heat race through your own face.
"Only..." he clears his throat again, shifting his weight. "Only in ways entirely appropriate, sir, I promise."
"Oh, I don't doubt that. You're a good worker, a good boy, I can tell."
You're not entirely sure what's going on. The tone of voice Simon has adopted is near salacious, a tone you recognize from the few times the two of you have preformed your marital duties together. The tone sets your heart racing, a slightly uncomfortable awareness settling over you.
"Thank- thank you, sir."
"Do you know how to properly take care of a woman?"
"Simon, I'm not sure-" you try to interrupt, uncomfortable with the direction the conversation seemed to be heading.
"Hush, darling, I'm only asking the boy a question. Well, Johnny?"
Poor Johnny's face is as red as a tomato, and you'd tease him if you weren't sure you looked the same.
"Well, sir, I've... I've never had a woman of my own to take care of, but I try my best."
"Oh I'm sure you do."
Simon's contemplative look is a little concerning, so you tug on his hand just a bit. "I'd like to ride today, Simon, if you're ready?"
"In a moment," he dismisses, giving you a soft pat on the shoulder with his free hand. "Would you like to learn how to take care of a woman, Johnny?"
"Simon," you hiss, sure that he's not implying what you think he is.
He looks down at you with an innocent if slightly confused face. "What, darling? The boy needs to learn at some point."
"Not-" you clear your throat, glancing at a very confused looking Johnny from the corner of your eye. "Simon, not here."
"Oh, come off it," he scoffs, a soft smile tilting up his lips. "Is that truly your only complaint? The location? My dear, no one will see us this far out but the trees and the horses. Well," he glances over to the stablehand. "And our Johnny, of course."
"I'm sure he's familiar with how to... take care of a woman."
"I'm not," Johnny blurts, then clamps his lips shut tightly together. His blush spreads down to his neck, and you worry the poor thing might just explode.
"See? So, Johnny, would you like to learn how to care for a woman? I'm sure my lovely wife would be more than happy to introduce you to the pleasures."
Your blush doesn't calm, but looking at Johnny... the idea isn't entirely off-putting.
Johnny's about as handsome as a man can be, and if Simon has no compunctions to sharing a bit of your pleasure... well, you've always been a bit of a glutton.
Johnny seems about as unbothered by the idea as you are.
"Really, sir? You'd let me... you'd let her teach me?"
Simon laughs a little, stepping closer to Johnny and turning you so you're shoulder to shoulder with him. "Oh, I'll be doing the teaching, boy. She's just out practice doll, yes?"
That makes your breath hitch, the idea of being just a thing between the two handsome men a bit more pleasing than it should be.
"Now," Simon says, gripping you suddenly by the waist and lifting without warning. He sets you onto a wooden table, then spreads your legs. "Women's clothing can be quite annoying to work around, but the end result is more than worth it. Hold your skirts for us, love, thattagirl."
You're silent as you take the layers of clothing from your husband, afraid that if you speak you'll simply burst into flames. Exposing yourself to a man like this is difficult enough in the dark of your bedchamber, it feels near impossible in front of Johnny and in broad daylight.
But you can feel the way your center grows slick, so you obey your husband.
"Now, Johnny, kneel here, in front of me."
Johnny nearly scrambles to where Simon gestures, almost throwing himself to his knees in front of you. He's left between your thighs and Simon's legs, your husband almost stradling his back.
Simon laughs a bit. "Eager, are we?"
"Yes- yes, sir." Johnny pants a bit, staring up at you from the floor. He can't seem to decide whether he'd like to look at your undergarments or your face, eyes flicking between the two.
"Good lad," Simon brushes a hand over the back of Johnny's head, palming it. "Now, you'll have to take off her undergarments before anything else."
You shift a little in your spot as Johnny reaches up tentatively, eyebrows slightly furrowed. His hands brush over your bottom half for several long seconds, and you start to shift a little more, near whining.
"Hurry now, Johnny, you'll drive the poor thing mad."
He adopts an almost determined expression, and a moment later you hear a rip and feel a breeze against your most sensitive parts.
"Johnny!" You scold, leaning far enough forward to glare down at the man.
He flinches a little, sinking away. "I'm sorry, my lady. I didn't know how else to get them off!"
"You never destroy a woman's clothing like that! You're not off to a very good start so far."
You regret the words a bit when Johnny's face drops, his lip poking out in a slight pout.
Simon laughs, shifting to rub a hand over your bared knee. "Let up on him, darling, he's inexperienced. Besides, it's rather easy to make up for a few ripped seams."
You glare lightly at Simon, just to make sure he knows you're unamused, then lean back to relax against the wall. "Well, then you'd better get started."
Johnny looks up at Simon, neck craning back. "How...?"
Another rough chuckle from your husband, and he shoves Johnny forward by the back of the head until his face is buried between your thighs.
"Oh!" You yelp.
"With your mouth, Johnny. Trust me, it's far easier to learn to use your tongue like this than it is to learn how a lady likes her apologies."
You shoot an unimpressed look up to Simon, but it quickly melts off your face when you feel Johnny's lips and nose press to your center. He doesn't really do anything, just sort of stays there.
You shift again, try to press forward.
"Lick her, Johnny," Simon explains, putting a bit more pressure on the back of the stablehand's head. A moment later, there's a tentative brush across your folds.
You jolt a bit at the first tough, then relax into the second. Johnny's clumsy but confident, and you spread your legs a bit wider so he can fully explore you.
"Lift your skirts a bit further, love, I can't see," Simon instructs, leaning over so he's hovering directly above Johnny. You obey, and your husband hums as the view.
"Do you see the little bud at the top there, Johnny? Focus in on that, it's what gives women pleasure."
Johnny's evidently a quick study, as he focuses his attentions onto your clitoris as soon as the instructions are out of Simon's mouth. "Oh!" You gasp, back shooting up from the wall.
It takes him several long minutes to figure out what keeps you moaning in pleasure rather than whining in frustration, but once he does he keeps his tongue stroking in just the right way to make you go boneless.
"Attaboy, there you go," Ghost praises, stroking over the stripe of hair on Johnny's head. "Hear her moanin'? That means you're making' her feel good, so keep going."
He's a good listener, Johnny, and you're nearly brought to a peak with just his tongue alone.
"Add a finger now," Simon says.
Johnny pulls back just far enough for you to see his confusion. "A finger, sir?"
Simon huffs out a laugh, reaching down to grab Johnny's right wrist and pull it to your bared core. "Yes, Johnny, a finger. You put one or two into her hole to stretch her out enough to take you. Now, you won't be fucking my wife today, but the stretch will still feel good for her."
The way he talks about you like you're not even there combined with the sudden slow stretch of Johnny's fingers has you moaning. If you were even slightly more aware of anything but the two men in front of you, you'd worry about being heard. As it is, the attention returning to your clit keeps you suitably distracted.
Simon scoffs in front of you, tugging Johnny's hair a bit in reprimand. "You have to move the finger, boy, you can't just set it in there and do nothing. C'mon, push it in and out a bit."
"Yes, sir," Johnny pants, glancing up at you past all the skirts. "Sorry, my lady."
"That's- that's alright," you excuse, trying to keep your voice steady. Judging by the smirk on your husband's face, you're not particularly successful.
You let yourself float off in the pleasure for a bit, smiling gently at the cautious movements of Johnny's finger - he almost seems scared to hurt you, and you can't help but be endeared to the stablehand all over again.
"Look at that," Simon sighs, his hand moving further up on your thigh. "Hear how wet she is? Means she's ready for another finger. Go on, Johnny. Stretch her out some more."
The two fingers are enough to get you off - all that attention focused right on your clit and just enough of a stretch for you to feel. You come with quiet moans, shifting your hips forward into Johnny's lips as much as you can.
He doesn't slow or change his motions at all, and you ride the orgasm to completion happily. After, though, you can't help but whine at the overstiumlation.
"Alright, pull off now, Johnny. You hear those noises? Those mean she doesn't feel good anymore."
Johnny almost jerks away from you, glancing up at you with wide eyes. "I'm sorry, my lady," he quickly apologizes, rising up on his knees to get closer as you drop your skirts. "I didn't meant to hurt you."
You smile softly at him, reaching down to cup his cheek. "You didn't, Johnny, it's alright. Just a bit too much."
He nods as he leans into your hold, and the three of you rest in silence for a few moments.
Eventually Simon tugs you off of the table, pulling both you and Johnny into his arms for a half-hug. It's nice - your husband isn't too much of a fan of physical contact, so you relish in it when you can.
Johnny coughs a bit with a blush when you all three finally seperate. "So... when's my next lesson?"
You smirk as you loop arms with Simon, both of you sharing an amused glance.
"Come to our chambers anytime, Johnny," you offer, patting him on the chest before stepping away. "I'm sure my husband wouldn't mind giving a longer demonstration on how to fully pleasure a woman."
You leave a red-faced Johnny in the stables with tented pants, both you and Simon chuckling to yourselves as you head back to the manor.
310 notes
·
View notes