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#she lives in a little village now
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recently got these little toys that remind me of ethan and rose... i could not help myself from drawing them as bunnies...! so cute!
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quietwingsinthesky · 2 months
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i do love canon amy & rory but god, does some part of me wish they really had gone with the idea of the doctor picking up a child as a companion (and then later, that child’s best friend with a huge crush on her.) with the rest of the season really not changing at all, except now it’s amelia pond with an angel in her head killing her and lost alone in the woods. it’s little rory who dies and is forgotten and becomes a toy soldier. if this is going to be a fairy tale, then let it be one. children have never been safe in fairy tales.
#it wouldn’t have to change any of the actual plot of the season. except MAYBE amy’s choice but even then i think amy’s choice would be the#one episode where they should be adults. if only for the half where they live in a village in that dream.#because that’s the kind of future that children would dream up. they live in a little cottage and nothing ever goes wrong and their best#friend visits them all the time even though they’ve grown up.#they aren’t actually adults there just children with an idea of what they should be as adults and acting accordingly#and it would still end the same way.#but idk its just. rory’s 2000 years waiting for amy inside the pandorica is already tragic. yes.#now imagine its a kid. a kid in a little roman soldier helmet who will never grow up. who will not leave his best friend.#he loves her and she’s more important than the whole universe and that sort of love is supposed to MEAN something in a fairy tale!#its supposed to melt the ice out of hearts and transform people from stone.#and what that love means here. is that he will have to wait 2000 years. a child and a box.#little rory and the amelia who followed the doctor’s letters to the pandorica. and she doesn’t recognize him again.#and amelia in the pandorica… 2000 years a child trapped in a small box waiting to be rescued.#s5 is already fucked for them but it could be worse. it could be so much worse.#and it would make the doctor choosing to take her place in the pandorica to save the universe later even better.#because who else but the doctor would put the fate of the universe on the shoulders of two children and realize much too late what a#monstrous thing he’d done. and still have to hope. have to hope. that amelia would remember him fondly enough to bring him back to reality.#the logistics of all of this would have been a pain lmao. child labor laws in acting and all that.#BUT. hypothetically. it would have slapped.#doctor who#amy pond#rory williams#<- also this entire time ive been referring to him in my head as rory pond so much that i fuckin. forgot his actual last name.#and then like if you want them to be adults in s6 or whatever you can just timeskip to them getting married and still have amelia remember#the doctor there. it would work. it would.
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whimsyprinx · 11 months
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thinking more about Cashmere and realizing what a social fucking mess this thing (Cashmere being the thing) is
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un-pearable · 2 years
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so i’ve been pondering the sonic triple threat au again (sonic underground au i’ve been working on about ~a year now that lives in my brain but i always forget to record) and incorporating movie stuff where i like it,, but honestly nothing tops the two year gap where sonic disappears into the wilderness after his foster parents get backstoried and then shows up out of nowhere at uncle chucks with a whole little brother and absolutely no explanations
#the most important thing about this au is Tails Is Everyone’s Little Brother#everyone loves him this kid could get away with murder#but also this au spans ~7 years of actual plot and 50 years of timeline at its most conservative#it is SPRAWLING i just need to actually get it all written down again instead of just scattered across discord#team chaotix is in it. the babylon rouges are in it. manic and sonia are main characters. sonia and amy are dating#amy is a time traveler who is unaware she time traveled bc she comes from a village on little planet#she’s secretly from the future. silver and gold are from the past and aware of it#but gold is missing and silver is desperately trying to hide why he’s here to look for her#sally and sonia were childhood friends. mighty and ray help redeem metal sonic into shard#sonic breaks his arm and it is a deeply traumatizing experience where he nearly murders his best friends#but also sonic is the lead of a famous band and that’s how they meet amy#the freedom fighters do exist but they’re all so exasperated by the fact the kids able to channel almost infinite power are all untrained#and too traumatized to actually do it#tikal is here and she is basically a force ghost/avatar spirit and the only person to successfully maintain a superstate#this au is EVERYTHING and i love it to bits#yet i will never find the time to actually do anything with it bc i am forgetful and busy#but whatever sorry i just wanted to gush about my nonsense#laid awake for so long thinking about how i’m rewriting knux based on. the movie last night and now i’m remembering EVERYTHING#MARIA IS ALIVE AND SHES TWINS WITH HOPE. MARIA GOT TO LIVE BC OF SOMETHING SHADOW DID BEFORE HE GOT TUBED AND ITS MY FAVORITE PART#SHE REUINTES WITH HOPE KINTOBOR AND THEY GO TO COLLEGE TOGETHER#before the world ends bc this is a post apocalypse/rebellion kinda story#BUT THEN 50 YEARS LATER SHE GETS TO REUNITE WITH SHADOW WHEN SONIC N FRIENDS FIND HIM IN YHE HUNT FOR THE EMERALDS. HE THOIGHT SHE WAS DEAD#FOR SO LONG BUT SHE GETS TO BE THERE FOR HIM!!!#i love this au so much it’s my baby. i traumatize and comfort these kids in equal amounts agshdjdk#anyway. i’ll stop. to all two people reading this ty for your time#sonic triple threat#untitled sonic au#sonic
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baked-hylian · 1 year
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Ah, I get it now
ninja society doesn't do the whole foster/adopt thing
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altfire · 11 months
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i literally cant help but rp in any game im literally thinking abt the lore of my current. modded minecraft world w my friends. god
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tobiasdrake · 1 month
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*deep breath* Okay. Here we go.
I don't think the Netflix Avatar show likes women very much. It's a great show for fans of Aang, Sokka, Zuko, and Iroh specifically. All four of those characters get a ton of great material. In fact, it's super great for Sokka stans, because the show takes him ultra-seriously and can't go five minutes without one character or another (usually a woman) praising him.
But the way it handles its female cast is troublesome.
Katara
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So, all three of the main trio got some changes made to their stories. They changed Aang's story so that he wasn't running away from his responsibilities; He was just clearing his head and somehow accidentallied himself into a tsunami. Whoopsy-dooodle. Aang did nothing wrong.
They changed Sokka's story so that him being a leader of his people and a great guardian warrior is treated with complete seriousness. Multiple times, characters stop to talk about how brave and noble Sokka is for taking on such an intense responsibility, and tell him to his face what a great warrior and a wonderful leader he is. Also his misogyny is erased.
And they changed Katara's story so that she directly got her mom killed because she sucks at waterbending.
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Katara tries to waterbend to attack the Fire Nation soldier but couldn't manage it, provoking the soldier to start actively searching for her and forcing her mom to fake a waterbending attack and draw his fire. They changed Katara's story so that her bad decision making fucking got her mom killed.
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This is treated with the same level of severity as "Sokka was bullied by mean kids and also his dad doesn't think he's good enough to be a leader."
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"I hoped Sokka would do better but not everyone is meant to have people's lives in their hands," Sokka's dad says of him.
Yeah, you're right, that's totally comparable to watching your mom get barbecued because you tried to waterbend in a situation you shouldn't have and then failed.
In fact, they give Sokka's greatest trauma more weight because it gets examined again with Yue next episode, while Katara actively getting her mom killed isn't brought up again at all. We get traumatized glimpses of it throughout the season leading up to the reveal, but after this scene in episode 5, it never comes up again.
But to be fair, Katara was a child. An event this significant would surely have motivated her, driving her to become the great waterbender she is now, right?
No! Katara sucks at waterbending and needs men who aren't even waterbenders to teach her how to waterbend. She requires instruction from Aang in episode 1 to learn how to waterbend, then from Jet in episode 3 to learn how to waterbend better.
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And unlike the show, her relationship with Aang isn't a give-and-take; Katara doesn't teach Aang a single goddamn thing. He never learns to waterbend. She is a strictly a pupil throughout the whole season. Though she at least gets officially labeled a master in episode 8, so there's that.
In any case, the whole traumatic memory thing isn't even the only time she's directly compared with Sokka. Episodes 3 and 4 see Katara and Sokka bicker over whose morally dubious side character is better. Sokka likes the Mechanist and Katara likes Jet.
Ultimately, Katara is forced to eat crow when Jet turns out to be the worst, while Sokka is vindicated when the Mechanist sees the error of his ways and reforms. But not before two separate arguments where Sokka calls Katara childish and accuses her of acting like a little girl.
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Arguments ultimately resolved when Katara apologizes to Sokka for not adequately respecting his very serious and ultra important role as village protector and leader. Gives him a whole speech about how great and glorious he is. And Sokka... appreciates Katara learning to respect him properly, I guess, because he never offers any similar sentiments back to her.
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The show just... They need you to know how important Sokka is, okay? It's very important that you respect Sokka.
Suki
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Suki suffers tremendously from that whole "Sokka's misogyny was removed" thing. Y'know, because they need something else to do with that episode. The show is deeply aware that Suki is Sokka's love interest, so they just do that right off the bat. Suki falls madly in love with him from the moment they meet, and spends the entire episode making goo-goo eyes and trying to get him to Notice Me Senpai.
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They still do the "Suki Trains Sokka" stuff. But Sokka is a serious, dignified manly man worthy of the deepest respect now, so of course they don't make him wear the Kyoshi uniform. Instead, the main purpose of his training is to allow them to flirt some more. It's less martial arts training and more an excuse to grope each other and near-kiss.
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Suki's just a waifu now. She still fights real good, but all of the stuff that made her relationship with Sokka interesting has been erased.
Yue
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Yue, similarly, leaps straight to shipping from the word go. They write out her fiance, Hahn, by having Yue briefly meet Sokka earlier in the season. She spends one minute talking to him in the Spirit World about Spirit World lore; In that time, she falls so desperately, madly, unfathomably in love with him that she breaks off her marriage to Hahn and devotes herself to waiting for him to one day come to her.
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"Never have I known such joys as that time you let me explain the spirit bear Hei Bei to you. Truly, we are destined to be together for life."
Like with Suki, they go out of their way to have Yue and Sokka already be a ship from the word 'go' so they don't have to spend time developing any kind of meaningful attraction.
They just. They really want you to know that Sokka is the manliest and most desirable man ever to walk this earth. It is very important that you understand how great he is. Women hurl themselves into his arms with zero effort whatsoever, because he's just so goddamn irresistible.
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Fortunately, Hahn is super okay with this turn of events. He's the most chill guy ever, he gets along perfectly well with Sokka, and he completely supports Yue's right to dump him! In the famously misogynistic Northern Water Tribe, no less! What a swell guy. Aren't men swell?
June
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June gets hit with that "rewritten as hollow waifu" stick too, but her eyes are set on Iroh. They rewrote June to be super attracted and flirty towards the man who was her unwanted sexual harasser in the source material. So that's fun.
Also, she barely does anything. Zuko hires her to find Aang, she succeeds, and then she fucks right off out of the show - But she manages to find time to express how unbelievably sexy Iroh is twice during that time.
She seriously just dropped into the show to flirt with Iroh and leave. She is unbelievably inconsequential.
Kyoshi
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And then there's Kyoshi. They really want you to hate Kyoshi. She's constantly shot from below, as if looking down on Aang and the audience. Her voice takes on a demonic echoing reverb at one point as she's screaming at Aang that "THE AVATAR MUST BE A MERCILESS WARRIOR!!!"
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She despises Aang, calling him a coward for running away from his responsibilities - Which, I remind you, is no longer a plot point because they unwrote that flaw from his character. So she's just a complete and utter asshole, shot from the asshole angle, yelling violently at him with asshole sound effects. They want you to despise this woman.
Azula
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Awkwardly, they do not seem to want you to despise Azula.
There's a lot to be said for how Ozai treats Azula in the original show. The way the favoritism he shows her is every bit as cruel and manipulative as the unfavoritism that he shows Zuko. Ozai does not love Azula. He loves the reflection of himself he sees in her eyes, and his encouragement urges her to polish herself to ensure his reflection always shines through.
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This is not that. The show instead erases the favoritism entirely. Ozai doesn't really care one way or another about either of his kids. He plays them against each other, bragging openly to Azula about how great Zuko is and unpleasably writing Azula off as weak and useless.
They've rewritten the dynamic between abusive father and his two abused kids in order to take Azula's pride away. Reimagining her from a gifted prodigy who excels at imitating the toxic behaviors of a father who doesn't truly care for her, to a put-upon overachiever tearing herself in knots to live up to the standards of her unpleasable father.
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This results in a truly wild portrayal of Azula as insecure and jealous of Ozai's seemingly love for Zuko. Here, she is simply a browbeaten child constantly complaining to her friends about how mean her father is and conspiring to get one up over Daddy's Golden Child Zuko.
Which she fails at, because she backs Zhao. Zuko deftly defeats her without even realizing they're in competition.
Conclusion
The season ends well for some of these women. It ends promising that maybe we'll see Katara teaching Aang some day. It ends with Zhao bragging that Ozai just used Zuko to train Azula so maybe we'll see the more confident and misguidedly proud Azula some day. Yue becomes the moon like she's supposed to. June's still out there so maybe she'll get to do something again some day.
Katara gets to fight Pakku and lose, but she looks pretty cool. She gets to fight Zuko and lose, but she looks pretty cool. Azula learns to lightningbend because she's just so mad about Ozai's contempt for her and favoritism for Zuko, which isn't how you lightningbend.
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But promises of future content fall flat when the content that exists is so underwhelming. This season made its feelings on these characters pretty evident, and it's unwise to expect better material from creators who've disappointed you with the material they already made.
The women of Netflix Avatar simply do not get to shine, outside of superficial moments like the "Women of Northern Water Tribe demand the right to fight and then fuck off and don't do anything for the entire rest of the episode" bit.
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"In the midst of battle, we demand that you stop being sexist and give us permission to fight! This is a way better idea than convincing you to teach us to fight before the battle begins."
The characters of this show feel as if they've been reimagined to glorify the boys at the expense of the girls. The boys are treated with a great amount of care. They're dignified and made important movers of the plot, with their rough edges sanded off. While the girls are molded around them.
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pandoraslxna · 6 months
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Lo’ak using visiting Spider as an excuse to come over and steal your panties to Jack off with later 🥴 he conditions himself thag your scent = getting off, and now he can’t jack off without them AND he has to hide his dick coming out of its sheath every time he gets too close to you
Addicted to you
adult Lo‘ak x female human reader
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Words: 4.7k
Summary: The first time it happened, could be considered an accident. He didn’t mean to come over and steal your underwear, stuff it in his tweng and take it with him, like a dirty little secret. The second time however, was less an accident and more a strategic planned theft.
Warnings: explicit smut, perverted Lo‘ak being a little panty thief, masturbation, scent kink, slight somnophilia (with consent), childhood friends to lovers, fluff, mutual pining, reader is spiders sister, oral (f receiving), obsessive behavior, Lo’ak has retractable genitals
Translation:
Tweng = loincloth
Tanhì = star, bioluminescence freckle
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Lo‘ak, by all means, is no pervert.
He’s not a freak, even if some small minded people had called him that before. But that’s because of his fingers, and not because of this.
It’s hard to explain how any of this has even started.
It’s just, you’ve always been there. Always running around with him and his siblings, playing in the mud and chasing each other through high branches of trees. Riding piggyback on his shoulders, letting Kiri braid your hair. Crying into Neteyams shoulder when you scratched your knee and then letting grandma take care of it. Sitting by the campfire together, baby Tuk in mums arms while dad tells them stories from earth, from the place you’ve never even been before, yet it’s where you come from. Originally. But to Lo‘ak, you’re all na‘vi. Just like Spider is all na‘vi.
You’ve always been there, small little tanhì. Until you’re not so small anymore. And Lo‘ak isn’t small anymore either.
When they come back, years after seeking oturu with the metkayina, his eyeballs almost pop out of their sockets at the sight of you.
Small little tanhì, he scoffs at the memories of his childhood friend. You’ve grown. Not much for Na’vi standards, still the size of Tuk when she was like 8, but Norm makes jokes about you and Spider not being kids anymore, so he assumes you must’ve reached your maximum height. How cute, he thinks. Lo‘ak however, well, Max says he’s making dad competition now. Almost choked on his coffee when he first saw him again. Apparently you must’ve realized the change in his physical appearance too, because you said stuff like the ocean did him good and giggled when you asked what they were feeding him over there, squeezing the muscles of his upper arm with your small hands.
Apart from your size, Lo‘ak was surprised to see you in human clothing. He assumes, and maybe that makes him a little sad but he would never admit that out loud, that after his family had to leave and Spider was also gone for a very long time, you barely had any reason left to visit the village, other than accompanying Norm and Max to the lab. So you ditched the loincloth for a pair of pants and a shirt. That however, doesn’t change how beautiful you are to his eyes. His little tanhì.
Luckily, that’s pretty much everything that has changed.
Funny enough, because that meant Spider still had to share a room with you now that he’s back. Neither of you are very pleased about this, but as long as he and the Sullys are finally home, none of you would openly complain about the temporary living situation, until Norm had moved some of his stuff out of his office so Spider could move in.
The room you and Spider share isn’t that big. Two beds, a window, a small desk and a wardrobe, that’s basically it. It’s even more cramped when a full grown Na’vi lays sprawled out on Spiders bed, but that doesn’t keep him from coming over every couple of days to hang around like he’s still a lazy teen.
Lo‘ak still can’t get over the sight of you running around in these human clothes. They’re odd. Even worse when you wear them, when you’ve changed so much and there’s so much more, so much new of you to see and now you’re hiding it from his gaze, underneath those entirely too long and plain looking fabrics.
Lo‘ak can barely peel his eyes off of you, swirling around the room with a woven basked on your hip, picking up stuff from the floor while simultaneously nagging at Spider to strip and— pause.
"Anything else?" You ask, taking the shirt that Spider had just worn to put it into the basked.
"Nope", he says, pronouncing the p with a little pop sound. Glancing around the room for the final time, you spot a pair of dirty socks in the far corner and as you bend down to pick them up, something seems to fall out of the basket that you don’t notice right away. Before Lo‘ak can react however, you’re already out of the door.
Sitting upright on the bed, Lo‘ak wants to reach for the tiny piece of fabric that you had lost, but then he’s interrupted again.
"Oh shit, I forgot to give her my tweng", Spider groans, pulling a woven cloth out from where it was sandwiched between the mattress and Lo‘aks butt. "I’ll be right back, bro." And then he basically sprints after you.
Chuckling to himself, Lo‘ak now finally gets to pick up what had fallen out of your basket.
It’s pink and small, looks like a triangle almost. Too small to be any kind of clothing. No, there’s really not much fabric on it. Strange, he thinks. He turns it in his hands and then spots a tiny, white ribbon on what he assumes must be the front, and now that he holds it like that…
It almost sends him off the edge at this very moment as he realizes— It’s underwear. Great mother, those are yours!
Lo‘ak almost passes out as he spots a tiny wet patch on the fabric. It makes something in him throb, knowing that your cunt was once pressed there, your sweet, sweet pussy rubbing and pressing against the soft cloth, while some of your juices leaked out and stained the material.
He swallows dryly.
Your clit must have rubbed on it, too, he thinks before he can even stop these thoughts from coming. And Lo‘ak, by all means, is definitely no pervert, but he can’t help but imagine the cute little nub dragging across the fabric, the nub that he just wishes he could wrap his lips around and slowly suck, watching as you writhe and cry out from the stimulation on your sensitive form.
Lo‘ak doesn’t know, can’t even explain it to himself as to what has driven him to his next move, but he then puts the fabric to his nose and, almost on instinct, inhales.
The very scent of your sex on the fabric makes his head spin and his cock stir to life.
Oh, how he loves your scent. That filthy, sinful scent on your panties, the lovely fragrance enhanced all around the cloth. With each trembling intake of your smell that his soul inhales, the harder his cock grows, until it finally unsheathes, bulging a tent into his now entirely too tight tweng.
The first time it happened, could be considered an accident. He didn’t mean to come over and steal your underwear, stuff it in his tweng and take it with him, like a dirty little secret.
The second time however, was less an accident and more a strategic planned theft.
Lo’ak now knows where to find them, knows that there’s a small woven basket in the far corner of your room, and if he lays on Spiders bed and stretches enough, he can just reach into it with his very fingertips. So when you and Spider are busy with something else, he so casually stretches his long limbs and grabs the first, black little slip he can reach, stuffs it in his tweng and then pretends that Neteyam is calling him through the throat comm or that he suddenly remembered he had stuff to do at the village or whatever reason is believable enough to hurry out of the door and hide somewhere in the forest.
Once his heart stopped pounding in his ears and his lungs stopped burning, Lo‘ak settles against a tree and pulls the small piece of fabric out of his tweng. Pretty black, cotton panties. Warm now, from rubbing against his skin on the way here. His hand twitches as he examines them in awe.
In all honesty, Lo‘ak really thought that the silly little childhood crush he once harbored for you was finally filtered out of his system after spending the first few nights at the metkayina village bawling his eyes out because he missed you so much. But no amount of other girls he tried to occupy himself with to forget you could change anything about those feelings that came rushing back to him like a tsunami, the very moment his eyes fell on you again, even after all those years apart. And now you’re all grown up, both of you are, and he’s not that awkward little guy anymore, had his fair share of girls to know how to talk to you, how to flirt and maybe even confess his feelings that could lead to something more, yet here he is. Cock throbbing in his palm with your slip pressed against his nose while he furiously jerks himself off to your scent. Like a pervert.
He was gritting his teeth as he stroked over his shaft, squeezing the light blue tip of his cock just right, forcing the very first droplets of pre-cum to form and spill over his knuckles. There’s a tightness, a warmth that swells inside him and it gets even worse when he inhales deeply, your scent filling his nostrils. His hand strokes faster, harder and he moans against the soft cotton.
Speeding up his movements, Lo‘aks hips were already bucking up to fuck into his fist. His imagination, those clear images in front of his minds eye, of your pussy dragging over the same spot he was rubbing his nose against were only egging him on more.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck", Lo‘ak was chanting curses as he felt the coil in his stomach threaten to snap. His head was thrown back in bliss, your underwear pressed tight to his nose and he couldn’t help but bite down on the fabric to stifle his moans when he finally came.
And suddenly Lo‘ak feels like he’s 14 again, blushing like an idiot whenever you’ve hugged him, not getting the words out when it was just the two of you together.
He was so head over heels for his little tanhì, that this seemed to be the only way to give him some temporary relief, until he would finally get his shit together and gather enough courage to ask you out.
But before this could even happen, things were already getting out of hand.
The first time might be an accident, the second time not so much, but the third, fourth, fifth … and then the tenth time— that’s when he realized this was growing into some strange form of addiction.
Of course he made sure you would never realize what a perverted friend he was, always making sure to rinse his cum and any stains out of the fabric before stuffing them back to the basket in your room, switching them out for a new pair. But not making you realize how perverted he actually was, that was easier said than done.
Naturally, all Na‘vi had a keen sense of smell. Lo‘ak had always been able to smell your natural scent when you were near. And in the beginning, just holding your used underwear in his hands got him hard, made his nose twitch, fingers itching to get them closer, bury his whole face in them and inhale. It was intoxicating.
But Lo‘ak didn’t even realize what he had done to himself, up to the point he came completely untouched for the first time, just from smelling them. That’s when it finally dawned on him. Your scent was enough to get him off. He had actually managed to condition himself to this– coming to your scent, not being able to come when he couldn’t smell you.
Oh, that was bad, he thought. That was really, really bad.
Even worse, because you’ve always been touchy with him. Always hugged him, held his hand, jumped into his arms. And Lo‘ak was so used to carrying you around on his shoulders or his back, that it would’ve been strange of him not to. So now here he was, again, suffering from the consequences of his own actions.
One of your soft, squishy thighs on either side of his shoulders, the back of his head snugly pressed between your thighs and his hands holding your ankles so you wouldn’t fall off as you wandered through the forest.
Normally, he’s a good listener. But he has long stopped listening to whatever you were talking about, now that your scent was so close to his nose that his cock was already pocking out of his sheath and Lo‘ak was slowly loosing every internal battle of trying to keep it in there until they had reached high camp.
Every time you giggled or laughed, Lo‘ak could feel the vibrations against his neck. He could feel every shift, every drag of your clothed cunt against his skin. The warmth radiating from your core, the softness of your thighs on either side of his head, while dainty fingers played with his braids.
Suddenly there’s tug on his braids and Lo‘ak damn near whimpers as you pull his hair to get his attention and— no, no, no you had to get off, you had to get away from him, because this is all too much.
"Lolo", it’s the silly nickname name you gave him as a child, the one that still makes his eyes roll because you used to tease him wit it. "Are you even listening? I asked you a—"
"Sorry it’s just, you– you’re getting kinda heavy, tanhì." Two hands grab your hips before you can even protest and there’s a look of utter confusion on your face, once your feet meet the ground again. Too heavy, Lo‘ak mentally slaps himself. He can lift you up with one hand, so who’s going to believe that?
You look at him with your brows knit tightly together, eyes narrowed to scan him up and down like you were trying and could actually see through him and fuck, his body was working against him in this moment, because the feeling of his own slick coating his cock as it slowly slid out of its protecting sheath sends a shiver up his spine.
"C‘mon let’s keep moving, we’re almost there", he hastily blurts out, leading the way now, hands clenching into fists at his side.
Lo‘ak tries to ignore that your scent still lingers heavy in the air, even as you walk behind him. He also tries to ignore how silent you had suddenly gotten, tries not to look back because he knows you‘ll look hurt or confused, or both, as to why he had suddenly decided to put distance between you and him –and called you heavy, on top of that.
The entire walk back to the village was filled with silence, and even though it felt heavy in his heart, it’s what he needed to calm himself, to make his cock soften and breathing even, to put his focus on something else other than the flowery sweet smell that’s walking just a few feet behind him.
It’s not hard to guess why he doesn’t see you the day after that. Spider visits high camp alone, says you’re out with Norm somewhere to gather ar'lek seeds so they can plant them in the small herb garden in hells gate. He knows that’s just partly the truth.
The next day, Lo‘ak doesn’t even wait for you to come over, or not. Spider spends the day with Kiri anyways, and maybe that’s his sign to finally get his ass up and do something about this whole fucked up situation, apologize for acting so weird and put an end to his strange addiction.
It’s already late in the afternoon when Lo‘ak reaches the human outpost camp. He taps the code into the small keypad on the front door of the facility, puts a respirator on and walks down the hallway. Several turns later and he finds himself at your door, knocks ever so lightly, it’s almost too light, before slowly opening the door, crouching under the frame and stepping inside.
The sight he’s met with definitely gets his knees a little weak.
You’re curled up on your side, your lashes are softly resting on your cheeks, lips slightly parted with quiet sighs of sleep falling from them. Your shirt has ridden up a bit, exposing your hips and stomach to him, blanket nowhere to be found. His gaze wanders over your body, the curve of your waist, down to your legs and eywa help him, you’re not wearing pants. All that’s covering you, are those pink panties that seem very familiar to him and fuck, if that doesn’t make him swallow hard because he just realized these are the ones he’s first taken from you. The ones he had completely soaked in his cum until he nearly passed out, shooting blanks from how many times he jerked off with them pressed to his nose and then wrapped around his cock once he had completed inhaled your scent off of them.
And now he has to hold himself back, because your deliciously sweet scent almost suffocates him the moment he settles to sit on the end of your bed.
He can’t help the way his hands move on their own, just a soft caress up and down your thigh. Completely harmless, he wants to make himself believe.
You hum in your sleep, eyebrows pinching together for a brief moment before you relax into his touch. It’s like your scent grows more intense the longer he strokes his warm palms over your exposed skin, running up your thigh, the curve of your hips. His fingertips trace the cotton fabric of your panties, hooks it under his finger, plays with it, before he runs his hands back down your legs.
Lo‘ak feels his body heat increase the longer he plays with you like this. Feels his sheath opening up, the tip of his cock teasing against the cloth of his tweng, the retraining tightness of trying to keep it in there. His tail curls like he’s in pain from holding himself back, and then your thighs spread into his hands, opening up like a pretty flower, subconsciously presenting yourself to him.
He knows he shouldn’t… but he can’t help it.
Swallowing hard, Lo‘ak kneels at the end of the bed. Careful as ever, he pulls you towards him, holds you open like a five course meal on a silver plate with both of his hands on the backside of your thighs. He nuzzles his nose against your skin, tenderly. Inhales, places soft kisses here and there, moves further to the inside of your leg. His nose never breaks contact to your skin, you just smell too good, he’s completely lost in it. Addicted.
His breathing soon turns into shallow pants of air, his mind growing dizzy and pupils dilated to the absolute max as he continues to scent you like a drug.
The content little, "Mmh…" followed by the arch of your back as you stretch yourself, hands coming up to rub the sleep in your eyes away, do little to faze him now, let alone stop him from what he was doing. It’s too late to stop anyway.
Glancing down on yourself, Lo‘ak feels your breath hitch in your throat in a shy little gasp, thighs trying to close shut, but his hands keep them in place.
"Lo‘ak?" You ask, face flushing red and for a moment he comes back to himself and his heart aches because he thinks he fucked up, crossed every possible boundary, ruined your friendship because he got too lost in his perversion– but then you bite your bottom lip and brush your dainty fingers through his hair, cradle the back of his head and pull him closer.
He grins.
Lo‘ak doesn’t break eye contact with you as he kisses your inner thigh, fangs grazing your skin before he sucks a small hickey right there. He kisses the purplish mark on your flesh before he moves further, eyes on yours before he presses his nose against the cotton fabric of your underwear. Your hips rise off the bed, impatiently bucking against his face and Lo‘ak groans.
"You smell so good, tanhì", he murmurs, nosing your clit, nudging the little nub until a whimper falls from your lips. "So sweet, I just… sorry, I had to."
A soft laugh draws his attention from your clit back to your face and he lifts his head up to properly look at you.
"Don’t apologize", you say, chest heaving, "I was waiting for the day you finally decide to make the first move." He smiles at this. And maybe he blushes a bit too, but there’s barely any time for you to see it, before his face is buried between your thighs again. He inhales sharply, letting your scent cloud his mind and then he presses a kiss to the outline of your clit, feeling it twitch beneath the thin fabric.
Hooking his fingers under the waistband, he tells you, "lift your hips for me", and as you do, he slides them off of your legs completely.
You watch his eyes darken with lust once you spread your thighs further for him, watch him part your folds with his thumbs almost tenderly, brushing over the little hood of your clit to get it into his direct view.
"Don’t tease", you then whisper and Lo‘ak thinks, if only you knew how much he was holding himself back right now. "I would never", he chuckles, and you squeak when he grabs your thighs and pulls you closer, bends your legs so your knees are almost touching your ears.
Flattening his tongue, he then licks a board stripe from your dripping entrance up to your clit, and oh tanhì, you’re making even the sweetest fruit competition. Lo‘ak groans, loud and shamelessly, once your slick juices run over his tastebuds like sweet nectar. Your hips jolt, moans spilling from your mouth as he closes his lips around the little nub of pleasure and sucks, hard.
You gasp sharply, hands fisting his hair tighter and mindlessly tugging as your thighs snap close around his head.
"O-Ohh god, fuck, Lo‘ak", you moan, back arching to get his mouth closer to you and Lo‘ak thinks it’s adorable. You’re panting, gasping and moaning like you can’t believe how good he’s making you feel.
Between your thighs, you hear him hum at your taste, your clit drags against his nose and those puffy lips, while he slurps your slick like he’s starving.
A glance up at you reveals that you’re staring sightlessly at the ceiling, slack-jawed and dazed, and Lo‘ak feels a surge of amusement and affection. So cute, looking almost as sweet as you taste on his tongue.
While sucking on your clit earned him the most of a reaction from you, he more often switched to sticking his tongue into your clenching hole as far as he could reach– which was deep, considering the proportions of a Na‘vi compared to a human. Like this, he could perfectly smooch the flat of his nose against the little nub that made you cry out, could smell you at the same time he was tasting you and that combination made something in him twist into a tight knot, daring to snap at any moment.
"Lo’ak, Lo’ak, oh– holy shit, Lo’ak", you moaned his name like a prayer, and the sound of it was send straight to his cock that had fully unsheathed itself by now. It throbbed heavily, pre-cum soaking his tweng and bringing friction to the sensitive tip once he’s started humping the air, hips bucking and thrusting, searching for more.
There’s nothing he wants more than to bring a hand down to his cock, get rid of the loincloth and start stroking himself, fuck his fist if necessary, anything to get the edge off. But his hands can’t, don’t, want to move. They’re perfectly comfortable where they are, holding your thighs, spreading you wide open while he devours you. He can’t bring himself to do anything other than grind his face against your pussy hungrily, tongue gliding through your folds, sucking and slurping and kissing until tears prick at the corner of your eyes.
"Lo, I’m close", you whimper, hands tugging harder on his braids and he loves it. "I’m- I think I’m coming. Please. Please don’t stop!"
And stopping is the last thing that’s on his mind.
Your tiny hole clenches around the tongue that’s thrusting in and out of you, and Lo‘ak can’t help but imagine how you’d feel around his cock. He wants to, he really fucking wants to split you open on it, bend you in every possible position and feel your tight walls clamping down on him. But this right here is his priority. He wants you crying out and coming on his tongue, wants to drown in your slick and inhale your scent for a good while longer before he can stuff you full of his cock.
"Yeah? You’re gonna come, tanhì?", he mumbles against your clit and your hips buck against his mouth, desperately searching for more. "Come for me then, c’mon. Let me taste you, give it to me."
"Uh-huh", you nod frantically, lifting your head up to look at him. Your hands tug on his braids, guiding him back to where you needed it most and Lo‘ak gladly complied your order. And then your hips were rising off the bed, and you nearly sobbed as you chanted, "m’coming, m’coming– oh– fuck!"
Your hold on his hair loosens just as everything below your waist tightens.
The sounds that were reaching his ears were a combined chorus of groans and high-pitched whimpers coming from both of you. While Lo‘ak feasted on your arousal, his tweng got equally as soaked in his cum than his face got soaked in yours.
You like the way that the gold in his eyes seems to glow up at you from between your legs, when you manage to pick your head up and look down at him. You like the way that his fingers dig into your skin as a stern reminder for you to stay there, and you like the way that his tongue continues to lave at you, despite the trembling of your legs.
The expanse of his tongue drags methodically against your cunt one last time, gathering your taste like he means to savor it. Then, his head raises, all glistening lips and prideful eyes, his hands sliding up your sides to hook around your waist. 
"Holy fuck", you exhale a shaky breath. "Lolo, what the hell, where did that just come from?" You laugh in disbelief, a bit more than just breathless from the intense orgasm, and Lo‘ak chuckles with you, crawling onto the bed to settle himself between your thighs.
"Don’t call me that childish name when I just made you come on my tongue, tanhì", he purrs into your ear, grinning, and the feel of his canine grazing your ear sends a shiver up your spine. Lo’ak then nuzzles his face into the crook of you neck, pressing his weight down on you and if it weren’t for the uncomfortable slick and sticky feeling between your thighs, you could actually enjoy this.
"Can you give me my underwear", you whisper, blushing, "please."
"No", Lo‘ak tells you ever so nonchalantly, face still buried against your skin. Your brows furrow and you can’t help but laugh, "What– Why?"
"I‘m keeping them", he says, "As a little souvenir."
Hearing that, makes a completely new wave of heat wash over you, lightening up your cheeks in crimson red.
"Perv", you mutter quietly, a smile tugging at your lips.
"Hmh, yes I am. But you also can’t have them back because…"
Theres a pause, two arms snake around your middle and hug you tight, before he rolls over and drags you with him. You gasp at the sudden change of position, now straddling his stomach with him laying flat on your bed. Rising a brow, you look at him, waiting. Lo‘aks hands then grab you by the waist and he pulls you up in one fluid movement, your hands fly up to catch yourself just in time, both of them on the headboard of your bed now as your core hovers only mere inches from his face.
His breath his warm on your skin, sending goosebumps all over your body as it fans over the slick covering your inner thigh. Licking his lips, he grins up at you, the hunger in his eyes evident, as he says,
"Because I’m not done with you yet, tanhì."
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cursingtoji · 8 months
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as requested, a longer version of this drabble
synopsis: geto spared one woman from the village he exterminated due to the pleading of mimiko and nanako, now he has to live in between preaching a world without non-sorcerers during the day and sleeping with one during the night; a dive into the mind of a conflicted man.
cw: canon events (no major spoilers), death topics, fem submissive reader x cult leader geto, smut, oral (m -> f), 1.6k words.
part 2
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The day was horribly busy, on days like these, where he had to talk in front of a crowd for such a long time, then entertain donors, then eat curses, Geto can’t sleep due to the loud noise of his mind, he would probably sleep if he was in a equally loud environment, but, except for the sound of your soft breathing, the room has dead quiet.
Dead quiet.
Geto sits up, the cold air hitting his bare chest as he takes in the sight of the red temple across the open window, a ruffling makes him draw and narrow his eyes to the figure in his bed.
He remembers the day he first saw you, trying to sneak in the room where Mimiko and Nanako were locked in, he was in the process of exterminating the people in that village so he didn’t think twice when he grabbed you by your hair ready to let a curse rip you apart but the deafening sound of the girl’s scream stopped him, only then he noticed a bag with food that fell of your hands.
He could see from a distance, you were like the rest of them, a regular non-sorcerer and a few minutes ago he decided what he wanted.
A world free of non-sorcerers.
He can’t make an exception. He shouldn’t.
The twins had tears in their eyes. They’re young and his responsibility now, so a helping hand couldn’t be a sin. He could leave you for last. 
Somehow he finds in his heart to spare you, and once he consolidated his power as a leader, he took the three of you in, the girls only leave your side when he’s around, they don’t approach anyone else except the two of you.
The first week you were around sorcerers he could see the fear and confusion in your face. Nanako tugged his clothing and he squatted to listen as she whispered to him “She cannot see them”.
So he provided special glasses for you, one with cursed energy so you could see what people like you shouldn’t, and he made Nanako hand it to you as you slowly began to comprehend what the weird events around you actually were.
She should be thankful, she’s only alive because of me.
He thought about that constantly, especially when watching you smiling and minding your own business.
And you are grateful and respectful towards him, almost never making eye contact, just keeping your head down and only calling him “Geto-sama”, he appreciated that, you should know your place.
It’s only a matter of time before he grows fond of you too, with his influence and your submission, it didn’t take long before you were in his bed, being happy to serve him in any ways.
It’s a contradiction having you around, he knows it. A monkey.
You sleep so peacefully, he wonders if you understand how lucky you are to make it this far.
Tonight could be your last night on earth, how deserving are you to live in his ideal world? You have two little girls that adore you, is that enough? He could just tell them something awful happened.
His cold fingers trace the back of your neck, ghosting your cervical spine.
You fell off the stairs and broke your neck, so sad.
That’s believable, the temple has many stairs.
His index finds your pulsing point.
A man attacked you, another monkey, and cut your throat, how horrible.
His eyes drop to your rising chest.
You fell on the lake and drowned, a terrible accident.
There’s so many possibilities to get rid of you without them blaming Geto.
Warm fingers unexpectedly find his hand, your small hand covers his. Suguru feels his human side returning to him, the dark cloud over his head slowly fading away as you take his wrist and you turn your head to kiss his palm.
He feels like crying, confused and guilty.
The bedroom is dark enough for you to miss the look of despair in his eyes, he allows you to caress the veins in his forearms, tracing it all the way to his biceps until you find his neck with your arm completely extended. Suguru gives in to the light pressure you make, bringing him to lay back down with you. You kiss his shoulders, his chest, his neck.
He doesn’t feel worth your kisses.
Again the contradiction.
You kiss his jawline and he stops you with a hand over your lips, he doesn’t want you to feel the way his lips quiver, you don’t ask questions, just accept and kiss his palm again, holding it against your cheek.
Geto is hard on you sometimes, giving humiliating tasks such as cleaning up the remains of someone who wronged him or capturing a curse that will for sure attack you. As much as he sometimes thinks of creating a space between the girls and you, the little ones always find a way back, helping you clean while keeping a non-morbid conversation topic or helping bandage the scratches you got from the small but feisty cursed spirited you were assigned to.
Yet you never once complained, always bowing in obedience with a soft “Yes, Geto-sama” coming out of your lips.
He knows when to treat you well too, sometimes he knocks on your room at night, sometimes he sends someone to call you over to his. When his whole cult speech was over he would dismiss everyone except you, to be alone in the giant spacious room with him, he likes to take you there, where your quiet sounds of pleasure bounce through the walls and create an echo.
You’re good to him, not to his cause, to Geto-sama you’re useless, but to Suguru Geto you’re an anchor.
He returns your kisses, sucking on your clavicle then down the soft skin of your breasts, where he takes in one nipple and licks until it gets hard enough for him to gently bite on and make you gasp.
Your hands find his hair, his long soft locks, the same ones you brush ever so patiently when Mimiko and Nanako turn it into a mess of knots from braiding and tying tiny silicone elastics on, you don’t scold them, even if it means to stay hours with Geto trying to undo it afterwards. 
They will grow up to be spoiled.
But he also could never scold them like a father is supposed to, deep down he knows he won’t need to, they adore him, anything he’ll say they’ll do. 
They’re good kids, he supposes he owns it to you too.
Suguru leaves a wet trail of kisses down your body until he’s between your legs, he first starts by licking the surrounds of your clit teasing patiently as you get wetter, the sleepiness doesn’t allow you to protest or whine, only to close your eyes and take whatever he’s willing to give you while tangling your fingers in his hair.
When he finally gives your nub some attention in the form of sucking, your leg twitches, he squeezes it and places it over his shoulder, at this point he’s laying on his stomach vaguely thrusting his pelvis onto the mattress to relieve a bit of the aching in his cock he gets when eating you out.
He adds more tongue as he moves down your needy hole, which pulsates around nothing, Suguru hums nuzzling your glossy folds, the vibration goes straight to your hardened nub.
“Geto-sama” you moan when he fucks you with his tongue, the tip of his nose hits your clit perfectly, once he looks up to see you falling apart on him you shiver, his eyes are predatory, you wonder if you should retrieve your hand from his head, but he quickly closes them again, losing himself in the taste of you. God, you taste so good. What makes him get through the day when he has to absorb those disgusting curses is the thought of getting lost between your legs, sucking your nipples, eating his own cum off you, sucking your tongue…
He feels your orgasm approaching as you tug his locks harder, whimpering softly. Usually he would make you beg, stopping his ministrations just before you get there and delaying it until there are tears in your eyes. Tonight he’s enjoying the silence, he might just let you go ahead, but there’s something he wants to hear.
“Say my name” he orders with a raspy voice.
“Get—“
“No” he bites your inner thigh, “My actual name.”
“Suguru” you roll his name so beautifully on your tongue.
“Keep saying it” he dives back, making out with your pussy and paying extra attention to your puffy clit as you call his name in a prayer.
He misses it, the way his first name used to be used, nowadays is just “Geto-sama this, Geto-sama that, master, sir”. It would inflate his ego if it didn’t come out of monkeys' mouths.
But Suguru? He left that for you only, even the other sorcerers he considers family just call him Geto.
Before he realizes you’re already cumming, hole pulsating around his tongue and heels digging on his back. He slows down his pace, nibbling on your glossy lips then taking your hand out of his hair to kiss it like you did earlier, the act makes your heart swell, you caress his face, thumb rubbing the dark circles under his eyes.
“Suguru” you call his name again, this time looking straight in his eyes, they don’t seem predatory anymore as he moves up finding a safe spot on your chest, where he lays down listening to your heartbeat as your fingers work through the knots in his hair, this time caused by yourself. Your other hand caresses his back and shoulders, whatever skin you can find to soothe him. Now he doesn’t have the loud voices in his head and bitter taste in his mouth and manages to fall asleep again.
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part 2 ->
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halfvalid · 7 months
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pretty in that
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ABOUT
rating: general audiences
characters: live action!roronoa zoro | fem!reader | live action!monkey d. luffy | live action!nami
pairing: live action!roronoa zoro x fem!reader
word count: 4.2k
description: you have a hard time picking a dress for dinner whilst in kaya's mansion. zoro (sort of) helps!
tags: strawhat!reader, female reader, fluff, kissing, confessions, no use of "y/n", special straw hat appearances (nami & luffy), soft zoro
author's note: i'm a sucker for dress-up scenes so i KNEW i was gonna write smth like this once that ep3 scene started playing. reader chooses a dress at the end; dress is non-described so you can imagine your ideal dress!
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You were on Nami and Zoro’s side when it came to whatever was going on in Syrup Village. Kaya’s mansion made you feel vaguely unsettled, and stepping into the building made your heart pound quicker than you would like to admit. But if there was one thing that piqued your interest, it was the order of changing clothes for dinner. You’d been stuck in the same few outfits for weeks now, and the promise of something new—and formal—was nearly exciting, although you’d never admit it in front of Nami and her disapproving gaze. 
Kaya’s kindness combined with the private guest room and bath you were treated to helped soothe your nerves. Soon you found yourself being led to the giant closet the rest of the Straw Hats were already in—Nami was trying on various different pieces, and Zoro seemed to have something in hand too. 
“Ah, there you are!” Luffy said, swiveling on his heel and giving you a big grin as you entered the room. You stared in disbelief at all of the racks around you. Hell, there were even clothes hanging from the ceiling. 
“Well, we certainly have a lot of options,” you said, skimming a hand over a nearby rack. There were a variety of different fabrics, but they all felt expensive: silk and velvet, damasks and brocades. “I don’t even know where to start.” 
“I’m just trying on anything,” Nami called from where she was, before stepping out from the room divider she’d been changing behind. She wore an emerald dress with a plunging neckline, the patterned silk clinging to her curves, and did a little spin. “What do you think?” 
Luffy shrugged. Zoro wrinkled his nose, barely glancing up from the armchair he was lounging on. “I think it looks nice,” you offered, but Nami still seemed dissuaded. 
“Ugh, these two are impossible. What are you going to wear?” 
“Uh, I’m getting there,” you said with a little laugh. “It’s a bit overwhelming; I’d rather help you guys pick first. Luffy, have you found something yet?” You turned towards the man in the center of the room, who nodded enthusiastically. 
“Yeah, I found this!” He raised up a black waistcoat. You frowned at it. 
“Um, Luffy, waistcoats are supposed to be worn with a suit,” you said, then paused, seeing his blank look. “...Never mind.” 
“And I’m wearing black,” Zoro added, despite the piece of clothing slung along his lap definitely not being black. You exchanged a glance with Nami, who just rolled her eyes. They’re stupid, she mouthed, then returned to the rack she was glancing through. She worked quickly, pulling out various numbers that she scrutinized before either setting on the couch beside her or putting back. 
“Okay,” you said slowly. “Need me to find you some pants with that, Cap?” Nami and Zoro let out identical groans as you spoke the pet name, both turning to give you exasperated looks. You suppressed your laugh. 
“Stop calling him that,” Zoro said with a tired sigh. “You’re encouraging him.” 
“Kind of the point, yeah,” you said cheerfully. While Zoro and Nami were both still largely unconvinced about the whole pirate crew thing, you’d joined the bandwagon rather quickly. Zoro rolled his eyes, and you turned towards the racks to find Luffy some slacks. “Assumedly you need something other than that shirt too?” 
“I’ll look later,” Zoro said passively. You watched him out of your peripheral vision. He was outfitted in a patterned kimono, his three swords slung along his lap. He didn’t seem too interested in his surroundings, though what he was doing, you weren’t sure. You let him be, turning to page through the racks of clothes again. Finally you found a pair of slacks that seemed like they’d fit Luffy. 
“Here,” you said, passing them over to him. “And find some shoes while you’re at it.” 
“Why does she even have clothes that don’t fit her?” Zoro murmured, sounding as baffled as he could get. “What, she just casually has clothes in all four of our sizes hanging around?” 
“Rich people own things just to own them,” Nami called. She’d changed again; this dress had a halter neckline and was blush pink. Zoro motioned with a hand at it, and Nami frowned, glancing down at the dress. “You don’t like it?” 
“Eh,” Zoro said. Nami made a face. 
“At this point I think you’re hating just to hate.” She pulled up a few more options, narrowing her eyes as she surveyed them. Luffy was seemingly satisfied with what you’d given him, because he took the pieces off of their hangers and slung them over his shoulder. 
“I’m off,” he announced. “Gonna go change in my room and do some exploring before dinner. Have fun!” With that, he left, and Nami sighed, turning towards you. She held up her final two options—a red cheongsam with delicate gold embroidery and a pastel blue dress with an a-line skirt. You gnawed on your bottom lip as you studied the two.
“I think the blue one might wash you out a bit,” you said eventually; it’d clash with her hair no doubt, and make her skin look even paler. The shade wasn’t a right match with her eyes, either. “I like the cheongsam; I think you should go with that one. It contrasts nicely with your hair.” 
Nami raised up the dress again, inspecting it. “You’re right,” she said, ducking back behind the room divider to change. You started pursuing the racks again; Nami stepped out a few moments later, successfully outfitted in her new dress. “Okay, I’m going to go do my hair in my guest room. Good luck.” 
“Bye,” you called, watching as she left the room. You clicked your tongue, almost alone now and with absolutely zero options of clothing. As much as you liked the idea of new clothes, the abundance of options was starting to seem a little daunting. “Okay, now that Nami’s done, it’s my turn to play dress-up.” 
Zoro laughed from where he sat, and you startled, almost having forgotten he was there. He was watching you attentively, his attention having diverted from whatever it was he’d been thinking about earlier. “You like this kind of thing?” 
“Well, I mean.” You shrugged, peering at a few of the pieces on the rack in front of you. You pulled out a deep green dress, eyeing the lace by the neckline before setting it back. “It’s kind of fun, isn’t it?” 
“Not really what I’m into.” 
“You wear jewelry, so clearly you have some fashionable instinct,” you pointed out, bending over to glance at the clothes hiding by your knees. These were all skirts or unreasonably short dresses, with so little fabric you were uncertain they would cover anything at all. “Unless the earrings are for another reason…?”
“Three swords, three earrings.” 
“Makes sense. What are you wearing with your shirt?” You glanced back to see Zoro’s answer, but he merely shrugged. “Do you want me to find you some trousers? A suit?” 
“You don’t need to find clothes for me. I can do that myself.” Still, Zoro made absolutely no move to do so. You rolled your eyes, but turned your attention back on what you’d be wearing for the dinner. Vaguely you wondered how Zoro would look wearing a suit. You flushed almost as soon as the thought popped into your head, shoving it into the very back of your skull and banishing it from seeing the light of day. 
“If you say so,” you said instead, mostly to distract yourself from the beyond inappropriate thoughts starting to run through your head. Honestly, you barely knew your crew mates—the four of you were close to tearing each other’s throats out before you ran into Buggy, after all. And the fact that Zoro was, well, conventionally attractive—and you tried to keep your thoughts on that and that alone, anything emotional was strictly out of the question—shouldn’t be something your mind lingered on. 
You picked out the first dress that looked to be your size. It was dark purple, backless with a tight trumpet skirt. Ducking behind the room divider Nami had used, you stripped off your clothes, donning the dress. There was a mirror along the other side of the divider, and you turned, trying to appraise the dress on your figure. The color didn’t look entirely right, and you were uneasy about the lack of mobility the skirt might have—Kaya’s staff were still extremely suspicious, after all, and you’d rather be safe than sorry. 
“Let me see,” Zoro called from outside. You tugged at the dress, suddenly nervous, but stepped out after you couldn’t find a good enough excuse not to. Zoro’s eyes ran up and down your figure, and you did a slow circle, showing off the dress. The bare skin of your back prickled. 
“You’re not going to be able to move in it,” he eventually said. 
You huffed out a breath, the nervous energy that had accumulated in your chest leaving with the action. Something in your belly stirred; disappointment, maybe, that Zoro had only commented on the practicality of the dress, not how you looked in it. But you pushed those thoughts away with an angry shove. Not the time, and definitely not the person to be thinking those sorts of things about. “Yeah, that’s what I was worried about. Let me find something else.” 
Zoro’s gaze didn’t flicker from your body as you started across the room, ducking between more racks to find something. “You dead-set on a dress?” 
“I haven’t worn a dress in a while,” you answered, picking out a red one before remembering Nami’s choice and setting it back. “Might as well take the opportunity.” The next one you pulled was blue, all shiny and soft. The material looked like some kind of tender silk. You set it aside to try on. “Why?” 
“Haven’t seen either you or Nami in a dress before.” 
“Actually, you have. I’m wearing one right now and Nami tried like five on earlier,” you said, glancing over your shoulder to shoot Zoro an unimpressed look. He scoffed, though there was a smile at the edges of his mouth as he turned his head away. Your next choice was soft pink, and made of tulle that vaguely resembled a puff pastry. You pulled it up. “Think I should try it?” 
“I mean, pick whatever,” Zoro said, though he seemed mildly disgusted by the amount of fabric the skirt had, all bunched up with layers like something a ballerina might wear. “What are you trying to achieve with the dress?” 
“What am I—I’m trying to look nice, Zoro,” you said, stifling your laughter. You set the pink dress back, replacing it with a sage green number instead. “Not everything has ulterior motives.” 
“You always look nice.” 
You froze, a soft chill curling around the back of your neck. Carefully, you straightened up from where’d you been bent over yet another rack of clothes, turning to look Zoro in the eye. His eyes hadn’t moved. “Oh,” you managed out, throat all dry and tongue like sandpaper in your mouth. “Well, thank you.” 
Zoro cleared his throat, a dull noise he made in the hollow of his throat without even parting his lips. His gaze flickered away. “Yeah. Go try those on.” 
Wordlessly, you stepped back behind the room divider and slipped on the blue dress. It had a texture like water—it was some kind of high-end silk, flexible enough that it was near liquid in movement. The dress itself fell to your ankles, and had a simple square neckline. You stepped outside, doing another slow twirl. “Better,” Zoro said. 
“Better how?” 
“You can probably run in it.” 
You twisted your lips, trying to suppress the urge to turn them down into a frown. “Okay. It’s not doing it for me.” You ducked back behind the divider to change yet again; the sage green one was satin, with long sleeves and a neckline you hadn’t anticipated would be that deep. 
Still, upon exiting the divider and turning for Zoro again, he didn’t have any worthwhile feedback. “It’s kind of plain,” he said eventually, not meeting your eyes. 
You huffed, crossing your arms over your chest; you had to almost resist stomping over to the racks to find something more, and spent another few minutes gathering dresses and trying them on. 
To your immense disappointment, each one garnered little to no reaction from Zoro. You even shoved on one of the tiny, too-little fabric dresses you’d disapproved of earlier, but all Zoro did was scan you from head to toe and say, rather flatly, “you’d get stabbed pretty easily in that.” 
Frustration bled into your nerves as you hid behind the divider again. You glared at yourself in the mirror—your skin had started flushing with how annoyed you were getting, which might’ve been funny had you not been so ticked off. Men, you thought, irritated. Was it really so hard to tell you that you looked pretty? 
He’s a bounty hunter, you had to remind yourself. He doesn’t care about this kind of thing. Besides, he was the last person you should be setting your sights on anyway. You tugged at the short dress, the hem just barely grazing the tops of your thighs. 
You heard footsteps approaching from outside the divider, suddenly too close as you snapped yourself out of the reverie of thoughts you’d been lost in. Zoro turned the corner, arm propped up against the divider edge as he peered in, brows furrowed. “You stopped coming out,” he said. He was still in his kimono, swords tossed over one shoulder. The shirt he had was, assumedly, left on the couch he’d finally stood up from. 
“I’m frustrated,” you told him blandly. His frown deepened. 
“Because of… clothing?” 
You suppressed the sigh that threatened to escape your lungs. “Never mind. I’m fresh out of ideas.” You pushed past Zoro, opting to stand in the center of the room as if analyzing it from a different view would magically give you more options. Zoro turned to stare, still looking perplexed. “With so many options, it’s hard to make up my mind, that’s all.” 
“Uh huh.” Zoro was still studying you. “Did I do something?” 
“What? No,” you said hastily. Too hastily. The words had ripped out of your throat like a hiccup, and you seriously needed to learn how to lie a bit better because now Zoro’s expression was even more confused. “No. Why would I be mad at you?” 
“I don’t know. That’s why I’m asking.” 
“It’s nothing,” you insisted, turning away from Zoro to stare at some of the clothes hanging on the wall above his head. These were too high up to properly look at, and as you stepped back, you glanced through the dresses hanging off the arch of the ceiling. You perused them without too much interest, eyes glancing over the various colors and fabrics until— 
Zoro stepped next to you. “Hey,” he said, and you jolted, head snapping down to look at him. You let out a noise of irritation, then turned your focus back on the ceiling. 
Your gaze flickered through the racks until finally falling on one particular dress hanging by the mouth of the room. It was somewhat hidden, tucked in a little corner beside a few other pieces, but from your vantage point it seemed about your size. 
You took a step closer to it, surveying it with your neck craned. The material looked soft and comfortable but it still retained shape, and the color—even in the dim lighting of the closet—was one of your favorites. The undertone would suit your skin perfectly. And, well, you didn’t want to put all your bets on one dress you hadn’t even touched, but it was certainly promising. 
Zoro stepped past you, barely exerting any effort to reach up and bring the dress down from where it hung up high. “This one, right?” he asked, and you swallowed, some of the annoyances you had towards him dissolving as he extended the dress hanger towards you. You nodded wordlessly, taking it. You stood there for a second before Zoro gestured with his head towards the divider. “Go try it on.” 
You did so, retreating safely behind your wall and stepping out of the little dress. You surveyed the one Zoro had grabbed for you again, heart lodged in your throat. It really was beautiful, and exactly your style; now that you saw it up close, you could safely affirm it was your size too, but nervousness still pulsed through your veins at it. 
Carefully, you slipped it on, adjusting the fabric around your hips and fixing up the neckline to rest evenly on your skin.
Zoro spoke out from the rest of the room. “So why are you mad at me?” 
“I’m not—” you sighed, dropping your arms before returning to fiddle with the dress. “I’m not mad at you.” 
“Is it because I wasn’t being helpful with the clothes? Because I already said that’s not exactly my area of expertise—” 
“It’s not because of the clothes, Zoro,” you said sharply, cutting him off. Zoro clicked his tongue, the sound reverberating around the room and thudding in time with your heartbeat. You turned your attention back onto your reflection. “It’s just me being silly. Don’t worry about it.” 
‘I’m worrying about it,” Zoro deadpanned. You sighed, adjusting the dress one final time before arranging your hair and staring at yourself in the mirror. It fit you perfectly, emphasizing all the right places and hiding all the parts of your body you were more insecure about. “Changed yet?” 
“Yeah,” you said, voice limp. 
“Let me see.” 
You bit your lip, suddenly nervous about how he’d react. Knowing him, it’d be something like it’s okay or the color’s fine; perhaps can you even walk in that? or weird shape if he was feeling a little more critical. Still, you stepped out anyway, not meeting Zoro’s eyes as you spun for him, letting him look at the dress from all angles. When you’d finished posing you glanced up, eyes meeting him tentatively. 
“It’s…” Zoro cleared his throat, ripping his gaze away from the dress on your figure to flicker up to your face. His gaze dropped again nearly as fast, like he couldn’t bear to keep eye contact. “Uh.” 
“It’s what?” you prompted, turning to face the nearest mirror. Your lips twisted into a worried frown, turning to glance at the dress again. Was it really not as perfect as you’d thought originally? “Do you like it? It’s my favorite so far, I think, but if you don’t like it—” 
“You look pretty in that,” Zoro blurted, cutting your rambles off with the strident, too-loud sentence. You froze, eyes flickering to meet him in the mirror. Carefully, he glanced up at you, and you could see his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed hard. 
“Oh.” 
Zoro coughed, averting his gaze as you slowly turned around to face him. You couldn’t see properly with the less-than-ideal lighting of the room, but his face seemed to have taken on a ruddier complexion. “I like it,” he said, words softer than they’d been before. “It’s the one.” 
There was a little rush of something through your veins, and you felt vaguely lightheaded. “Okay,” you barely managed to squeak out. “Thanks.” You stumbled back behind the divider, sucking in a deep breath and trying to regulate your breathing. God, this was actually shameful at this point. 
You composed yourself quickly, gathering all the dresses you’d tried on and abandoned to return to their proper places. Zoro was still watching you attentively, and you glanced over your shoulder at him. Sparks prickled along your skin as your eyes met. “What?” you asked. 
“You’re acting weird.” 
“Am not.” 
Zoro stood up, rolling back his shoulders and stretching his head from side to side. He glanced through the racks and, without even a minute’s hesitation, plucked a suit jacket and matching pants out from beside him. “Yeah, you are. What’s up?”
“You’re just grabbing those without thinking about it?” you demanded, eager to change the subject. Zoro rolled his eyes.
“I picked them like fifteen minutes ago,” he said. “Just didn’t grab them until you were done your whole… thing. Now spill it. You’re all red again.” 
You swiveled towards the closest mirror, unable to suppress your gape as you saw that your skin had indeed turned a distinctive shade of scarlet, flushed undertones creeping their way up your skin. It was entirely recognizable even in the terrible lighting. Even your skin was treacherous, now. “Nothing,” you muttered, unable to meet Zoro’s eyes as you spit it out. “I was annoyed because you weren’t telling me what you thought of the dresses.” 
“I… did, though?” Zoro said, perplexed. You let out a grating sigh, cheeks flaring even hotter now that he was forcing you to confess the entire extent of your sins. 
“Yeah, like, practically,” you said, wrapping your arms defensively over your chest. “You’ll get stabbed in that so easily. You won’t be able to walk. I just wanted you to tell me that—” you cut yourself off with another groan. “Don’t make me say it.”
Zoro blinked. “I have no idea what you’re edging towards, so you’re going to have to say it.”
“I just wanted you to tell me I looked nice!” you finally burst out, turning so you wouldn’t have to look at Zoro’s face. God, you were going to have to quit the Straw Hats after this. It was so entirely stupid. 
“But—” There was a laugh in Zoro’s voice, and you glared down at the floor, all of your dignity having left you by this point. You had no shame left to feel anymore. “I said ‘you always look nice’. Doesn’t that insinuate—” 
“That’s not the point,” you said hotly, tone almost argumentative now. “I wanted you to think I looked pretty in a dress, Zoro.” 
Zoro didn’t respond for a moment, brows creasing and face taking on a baffled expression. “But why—” Zoro cut himself off, and you turned even redder, holding your breath as he finally connected the dots. A single word fell from his lips, like a soft breath of air as he spoke. “Oh.” 
“Oh,” you muttered under your breath, unable to stop the almost whining tone your voice took on. Zoro stepped closer to you, a hand wrapping around your wrist and forcing you to look up at him. 
“I said you looked pretty in this one.” 
“I know,” you insisted, still all red, “which is why I’m not totally mad at you, but—” 
“You looked pretty in all of them,” Zoro said. He didn’t look bashful, per se—you didn’t think Zoro could get shy—but his voice was low, all hoarse in a more tentative way rather than one of his grating remarks this time. “For the record.” 
Your breath caught. 
“This one’s my favorite, though,” Zoro muttered. And then he was leaning down to kiss you, the ghost of his lips just on the corner of your mouth. You gaped up at him in shock as he averted his gaze, staring at some spot about your head. “Was that—” he started, before clearing his throat and trying again with a little more of his dignity this time. “Was that okay?” 
“Yes,” you blurted fervently, and before you could fix up the moment with something more, well, suitable, your big mouth ruined it for you. “But I think we’re holding up dinner. You should get changed, and I still need to find shoes.” 
You bit your tongue immediately after the words had been said, but it was too late—Zoro coughed, turning away from you. You panicked, and now it was your turn to grab his arm and tug you towards him. “Wait!” 
Zoro glanced down at you, perplexed, and then you leaned up to kiss him square on the mouth. He stumbled back, surprised, but adjusted quickly, hand going to cradle the back of your neck and pressing you right to him before you finally broke apart. 
“You should steal it,” he started. You stared up at him in question. “The dress, I mean. You should steal it.” 
“When am I ever going to need to wear this again?” you asked, perplexed. Zoro shrugged, fingers tugging at the edge of the dress's neckline. 
“Dunno. Just take it. She probably won’t even notice.” 
“You’re adorable,” you teased; Zoro wrinkled his nose but didn’t complain, opting instead to move away and pick up the clothes he still hadn’t changed into. “Go change. See you at dinner.” 
“Yeah,” Zoro said, his eyes not straying from your figure as you ducked out of the room. Before you could fully leave, though, Zoro grabbed your wrist, spinning you around towards him.
You didn’t have enough time to ask what he was doing when he leaned around to kiss you one final time, his hands cradling your face as your lips moved against each other. It was only a moment later that he stepped away, looking rather sheepish but not very apologetic as he finally let you go. 
“You look more than pretty,” he murmured, eyes sinking into yours, and your throat dried, any words you might’ve formed dying away within seconds. “You always look more than pretty. You look gorgeous.” 
“Thank you,” you whispered, and then he ducked back inside the closet to change. 
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© halfvalid 2023
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onesettleronebullet · 2 months
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My father was a talker and a storyteller. Because of this, there was no time when we, his children, did not know we were Palestinian. The stories I remember about his boyhood in the 1930s and early 1940s were nostalgic, both comic and bitter. But there were more political stories that began to teach us what it had meant to be Palestinian under the British Mandate. According to my father, people were barely aware they were on the eve of disastrous events that would make them refugees. They did not realize that the Zionists, not the British, were their real adversaries. Yet, while I was growing up, I don’t recall hearing his stories of 1948, the last months before the fall of his hometown, Jaffa. Were we too young to be told? Did it not mean anything to children who had never seen Jaffa? What happened when my father returned to Palestine was that his memories now became the guide to a living history and a real place. And he told the stories to me and to anyone who would listen. Jaffa was the heart of my father’s Palestine. On the wall of his apartment in Ramallah when I came to stay in 2001 was a large sepia poster: a historic photograph of an Arab man staring wistfully out to sea with a large town in the background. At the top, in Arabic, it said, “Jaffa 1937.” On my first visit to Palestine to see him in 1993, I sensed the thrill he felt at having mastered the new situation. The good part was embracing and being embraced by the community he had found, whether in the West Bank or in various other parts of pre-1948 Palestine. The anxiety of being there was betrayed by his dry mouth and the beads of sweat on his forehead as he drove us around, approaching Israeli military checkpoints or getting lost because he couldn’t read Hebrew. For me, the landscape was familiar from Lebanon and Jordan, which I had known well growing up. The barren highways and the cities branded by Hebrew sounds and sights were menacing, though, especially when combined with the heavy presence of Israeli soldiers, reservists, and guns. He was eager to show me and my small family the whole of Palestine, from Jerusalem to Bethlehem, Nablus to Nazareth, Jericho to ‘Akka. His tour of Jaffa, the same one, I was a little hurt to discover later, he gave to many others, was about claiming and reclaiming the city in which he had been born, the sea in which he had swum as a boy, and the home he had been forced to flee in 1948. On his own first visit in 1991, he’d asked friends to take him there. Initially he was disoriented. Most of the landmarks weren’t there. The neighborhood by the sea where he’d grown up had been razed by then, though twenty years earlier his brother had done what so many Palestinians have done and described: knocked on the door to find out which Jews—Russian, Moroccan, Yemeni, Polish—were now living in their old family homes. Suddenly, my father said he had spotted the Hasan Bek mosque where he had made the call to prayer as a boy. Bit by bit, circling more widely around the mosque, he began to find his way. It was a former student of his who had made him rethink his refusal to go back. She often traveled to Israel and the Occupied Territories. He recalled that she had told him once, “Ibrahim, Palestine is still there.” He was happy, he said, to find this true. There is an image in one of Doris Lessing’s African Stories (1981) that has never left me. A young girl, a white settler living in southern Africa, looks out over the savanna and acacia trees and sees the large gnarled oak trees of her English fairytales. My father did the opposite. Where I, who never knew anything else, could see only the deep gouges in green hillsides made for Israeli settlements with garish red tile roofs, or miles and miles of highways criss-crossing the rocky landscape and claiming it with modern green signs in Hebrew and English, or non-native evergreen forests to hide razed villages, my father saw beyond, between and behind them to the familiar landscapes of his youth.
– Return to Half-Ruins: Father's and Daughters Memory and History in Palestine by Leila Abu-Lughod.
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absdoll · 4 months
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Hi bee:3 requesting for Abby eating out or playing with readers 🐱 with her fingers while reader is playing a game
It's all I've been thinking about lwjeuvesivdsi
hi qt ૮ ˶´ ᵕˋ ˶ა i luv this idea ! ty for requesting 🎀
cw : pervy!abby <3 my beloved ♡ // reader is playing animal crossing new horizons !
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“abs! guess who just came to my island?!” you squeal as abby lifts her head from her book to meet your sparkling eyes. “hmm let me guess, the weird looking red dog?” she asks, quite genuinely.
“wh-… oh! cherry? she’s so cute! you’re mean.” you furrow your eyebrows at her, offended she called one of your favorite villagers weird looking.
your girlfriend smirks, a sigh leaving her mouth. abby gets a rise out of making her sweet doll-face frown and pout. abby knows it’s wrong to think such dirty thoughts about how innocent you are. the way your cute little butt peeks out of the bottom of your cotton shorts when you try to reach the top cabinet. when you’re all doe-eyed and curious asking her what she wants for dinner. how you sit crisscross applesauce in the big comfy living room chair, looking so small and fragile. and right now, the way you’re so giddy about a silly animal video game. she takes a deep breath as she moves over to where you’re lounging.
“i’m sorry baby, can i see?” abby rests her head on your shoulder, her right hand settling on your bare thigh. you giggle when she gives your soft flesh a little squeeze.
“it’s chai! i’ve wanted her to move to my island since i started playing!” you ramble on about your beloved blue elephant. “she’s just like cinnamoroll, look!” you tilt your nintendo switch screen in abby’s direction, biting your bottom lip in excitement, so happy you get to share this moment with your favorite girl.
abby glances at the game for a moment, then looks up at you, your eyes glistening. she looks back down at the screen, noticing your small fingers toggling with the knobs of the device. she takes another deep breath.
“mm so cute angel, i love the little teacup on her head.” abby kisses your shoulder. “i’m gonna get something to drink from the fridge, you want anything?” she inquires. you shake your head no, too focused on trying to make a good impression on your new guest.
the tall blonde stands to walk to the kitchen, stopping to stretch her arms above her head, letting out a long sigh. she turns around to give you a sweet look before she leaves the room, but her eyes fall somewhere else.
as you sit with your legs in the butterfly position, your pretty pussy on half display. abby clenches her fists, she’s resisting the urge to pry your game out of your soft dainty hands, pin them above your head, and fuck you dumb. she can’t hold back much longer.
“baby,” abby breathes, she walks back over to you, kneeling before you, elbows on your knees. “just keep playing, okay? don’t mind me.” you’re too busy cleaning up your island and making small talk with your digital neighbors to give abby any more than a “mhmm! okay bibi!” and she knows it.
abby begins planting gentle kisses to your cold thigh, humming against your skin as she sees goosebumps rise up your legs. you shiver a little when her face gets closer to your half covered heat. you move your game slightly to the left, looking down at her. “what’d i say pretty girl? hmm? eyes on the screen, don’t look at me again.” abby softly speaks through her pebbled kisses. you frown, confused, but decide to listen and be the good girl abby wants you to be.
abby’s mouth is nearing your pool of slick, you can feel the warm breeze of her breaths tickling your entrance. she uses her nose to reveal your wet pussy from your shorts.
“abs!” you attempt to close your legs around her head, but she knows you, she knows your movements. she knows that you like to play this little game where you say “nooo abs! don’t wanna! too sensitive!” and then a few seconds later, you’re spread wide open, desperately waiting for her skilled tongue to plunge into your aching hole.
“cmon princess, i don’t have to tell you again, do i?” abby coos. “spread.” her voice a little huskier.
you nod and relax your legs. you resume playing, eyes glued to the screen again, quickly getting distracted by the singsong isabelle is putting on outside town hall.
abby’s tongue now inches away from your puffy pulsating clit. all she can think about is devouring every last ounce of you while you sit there, so innocently focused on something far less disgusting than what she’s doing.
your perverted girlfriend watches as your cute hole tightens around nothing, a smile forms on her freckled face. she extends her wet pink muscle and licks a gentle zigzag from fold to fold. “mm-aahh!” you let out in a high pitched moan. abby shoots you a glare, a warning, that if you acknowledge what she’s doing again, she isn’t gonna be so sweet and soft anymore.
she’s drinking your pussy, tongue circling your sensitive nub, slurping every drop of white cream that’s sticky all over her chin. abby glances up at you, “good girl, so proud of you angel.” you bite your lip so hard that you wince a little at the sudden taste of blood, but you know better than to look at abby, let alone let her know how good she’s making you feel.
abby slides one finger into your pussy with ease, your drenched entrance practically sucking her in. “so wet for me.” she’s making out with your thumping clit, curling her index finger up, the pad perfectly tapping your g-spot.
you can’t breathe, you can’t think, you’re trying to move the controls of your game, your hands shaking. all you want to do is buck your hips up to her face, shoving her tongue so deep inside of you that feel her nose touch your clit over and over and over. “you’re close princess, i can feel it.” abby hums.
she’s going so agonizingly slow, the soft sensation of her saliva mixed with the unhurried pump of her finger, you’re dying for her to pick up the pace — and that’s exactly what she isn’t gonna do.
“cum slowly for me baby, ride it out.” abby continues lapping up your slick, using her free hand to hold your legs open. “that’s it sweet girl, riiight…. there.” you’re cumming all over her face, from her nose to her chin, her face is buried in your juices.
“let me hear that pretty moan of yours.” abby’s eyes fixated on your blissed out face. finally granting you permission, you scream out in euphoria, “uug-uuuh aahh aaa-bby-y-y!”
abby removes her finger, plopping it in her mouth, eyes rolling to the back of her head as she sucks your cum off.
sliding your shorts back up your legs and kissing the top of your head, she starts to walk towards the kitchen. “you want something to drink now?” she teases.
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a/n : i loved writing this ପ૮๑ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ๑ აଓ hehe if u don’t love pervy!abby then idk what to tell u , ur missing out ! 😵‍💫💕 hope u enjoyed bbs <333
⋆.ೃ࿔*:・⋆ @whore4abby @hersweetheart @enbesbians ♡🧁
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thebigbiwolf · 5 months
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Spittle - Part 2/2 (Astarion/F!Reader)
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Summary: The chocolate seems innocent enough - if you look past the Infernal writing on the wrapper, and with so few pleasures in the wilderness, you all but jump at the chance to sneak yourself a small treat.
Unbeknownst to you, the bar is infused with succubus spittle. Just one square is rumored to contain enough potency to send a mortal into the throes of ecstasy.
This is what happens when you eat half the bar.
Fic Tags: Sex Pollen (kinda), aphrodisiacs, a bit of dom!Astarion, unprotected piv, overstimulation, he talks you through it (iykyk),
Fic Warnings: Explicit Smut (18+ MDNI), Language, No use of Y/N, magical influence
Read Part 1: Here
Read on AO3: Here
Word Count: 4k
A/N: Wow. I'll try to make this brief. First of all, I just want to say thank you all so much for your continued support. I know this took me forever to write, but I've been going through a lot of emotional turmoil with school and some health issues with my animals. Your patience means so much to me, and I can only hope this lives up to everyone's expectations! This is my first time writing smut, and ngl I feel a bit like Icarus, so let me know if y'all liked it. Last, but not least, thanks again to my bestie/beta @imaginarydromedary for holding my hand through the shame.
Astarion sits quietly beside the fire, absently picking the dirt from beneath his manicured nails. The night had unfolded like countless others before it: boring, mundane. Uneventful.
Perhaps he should retire early. The Realm According to Bumpo sits patiently atop the desk in his tent, and if he heads to bed now, he could potentially finish a chapter before his watch begins.
He stands, patting the dust off his trousers, just as Shadowheart emerges from your tent. He initially doesn’t pay her any mind - fails to notice the concern etched across her face. 
“Astarion.” 
He snaps to attention, recognizing the fear in her voice.
Astarion’s stomach sinks when their eyes meet. Shadowheart isn’t normally one to succumb to panic, but she looks as though she’s just stumbled out of a wolf’s den.
“What is it? What’s wrong?”
“I don’t know. She - I’ve never seen…” Shadowheart pauses, taking a steadying breath. “She’s feverish. She was fine only hours ago. I heard a cry from her tent and feared something was amiss. When I found her, she…” The cleric hesitates, eyes contemplative - as if weighing exactly how much she wants to reveal. 
“Out with it, damn it!”
“Is there any chance she’s been poisoned? You two stayed behind, back in the village. Did she come into contact with anything that might have pierced her skin?”
“Poisoned? No, she -” Astarion retraces the events, turning over your brief conversations in his head before landing on the only noteworthy detail he can think of.
He taps a finger on his chin, a thoughtful smile creasing his face. “Unless, of course, the Infernal chocolates didn’t agree with her.”
“I’m sorry, the what?” 
“The chocolate she found at the apothecary. I assumed she hid it away so she could enjoy her little treat, unbothered. There was Infernal text on the wrapper.”
She stares at him with wide eyes, jaw slack with disbelief. “And you didn’t think to mention this earlier?”
Astarion shrugs, unfazed.
“Where’s Wyll?”
He rolls his eyes. “How should I know? I’m not his keeper.”
“Astarion!” 
“Oh, come on. That chocolate must have been at least a decade old. Are you certain this isn’t just some sort of stomach bug?”
The cleric shoves past him, groaning in exasperation. She shoots him a glare and mutters, “I’m certain,” before jogging in the direction of Wyll’s tent. 
“Infused with succubus spittle. Just one bite will have you and that special someone rolling around for hours. Consume responsibly." 
Astarion giggles boyishly. “An aphrodisiac? How fun.”
Wyll squints as he silently reads the next bit to himself, fingers tracing the text. He turns to Shadowheart, jaw tightening, "How much of this did you say she ingested?"
"I only found half the bar."
Wyll’s expression grows more serious. "This says the recommended serving size is one square… How many squares were left?"
“Oh, gods…” she breathes, "Six."
The three exchange silent, worried glances.
“Could she die from this?” Shadowheart asks, her voice trembling with uncertainty.
Wyll’s lips press into a thin line. In truth, he doesn’t know the answer. He could ask Mizora for guidance, but the devil’s been awfully silent after his recent failures. He isn’t sure she'd be willing to answer him, let alone grant any favors. Still, it may be worth a call.
Just as Wyll’s about to suggest it, Astarion heaves a deep, dramatic sigh, throwing his hands up in defeat.
“Alright, I know what we’re all thinking. I’ll take care of this.”
The other two regard each other, thoroughly confused.
“Look," Astarion explains, I may not be well-versed in magic, or magical remedies, for that matter, but now that we know what’s causing this… I think it’s obvious what needs to be done.”
“You’re joking.” Shadowheart laughs, incredulously.  
“No,” he continues, “We can’t just sit here and hope for the best. We need to act quickly, and let's just say, this fits into my... skill set.”
“So, you’re going to, what? Have sex with her? You think she’ll be capable of saying anything but yes, given the state she’s in?”
Astarion shoots her a glare. The mere thought that he’d ever so much as suggest doing something like that - bedding you when you’re too weak to reject him - the very idea of it makes him sick. 
He isn’t that evil. 
“Watch your tongue,” he spits at her, “before I do us all the favor of removing it.”
“Hang on, you two,” Wyll interjects, “Astarion, I think you might have a point. You would know better than anyone whether she’s in a right enough state of mind to… consent to this. You’re closest to her. She trusts you.” 
He turns to Shadowheart, “It’s worth a try.”
Astarion notices two things as he pulls back the flap of your tent.
The first is that it is unseasonably warm. Scorching hot, like summer. A stark contrast from the welcoming cool of the early spring night behind him. 
And second, that the air in the tent is heavy - heady with the scent of sweat and something else he can’t quite identify. It's clouding his senses, making his head swim. The taste of it settles on his tongue, like salt on the rim of an otherwise very sweet drink.
The moonlight at his back casts a dark shadow over your sleeping form. Astarion hesitates for a moment, taking in the sight of you, vulnerable and oblivious to his presence, feeling too much like a wolf looming over a snared rabbit.
You twitch, grimacing in pain. 
He frowns. This wasn’t the way he wanted to go about seducing you. His plan was much more sophisticated: a carafe of wine, a few honeyed words leading to a night of passion, your endless thanks, all culminating in some well-earned release and his assured protection.
A mutual exchange.
But, this?
He’s roused from his thoughts by another grunt, escaping from between your clenched teeth.
Whatever you’re going through, it looks like hell.
Ugh. You know what? Fine. Maybe this isn’t the way he envisioned it, but when has life ever blessed him with a perfect scenario? He’ll offer his… services, and respect whatever answer you give him. If you refuse him now, he can always try again later. Under less perilous circumstances, provided you survive the night.
And if not, well, he's never been one to play the hero, but at least he tried. 
He steps further inside, closing the entrance behind him. The moment he seals the tent shut, there is a palpable shift. The space feels infinitely heavier, laden with unnatural energy, reminiscent of anticipation, but just slightly… off.
He breathes, trying to focus on anything but that intoxicating scent. The haze of it is maddening.
The elf sits on his knees beside you, hands resting in his lap. 
He clears his throat, hoping the sound would be enough to wake you.
There’s no response. 
He whispers your name.
Nothing.
No choice, then.
He drums a finger against your bare arm.
The cleric was right. Your skin is so hot, it borders on scalding.
Finally, you begin to stir.
-
Again. It happened again. 
As soon as you closed your eyes to rest, you saw him - That thing that wore his skin. You felt his hands and mouth as he ravaged you until you fell apart beneath him, above him, wrapped around him, like he was everywhere all at once. 
He was demanding as he took pleasure from you. Ravenous. Mocking your cries, your begging.
The hours stretched into what felt like lifetimes, and you’d nearly given up hope, resigning yourself to the idea that this was your new, endless reality. 
Until suddenly, you hear a voice that pulls you from the dark recesses of your subconscious-- the very voice being used to torture you
Your name, uttered quietly by Astarion. Just Astarion. No second, more sinister layer beneath it.
Your eyelids flutter, then widen as a chilling realization washes over you. 
He’s touching you. The pads of his fingers are both a balm and an irritant, soothing and igniting the flames licking at the corners of your mind.
“You look like you’ve seen better days.” He teases. 
You recoil from his touch, sitting upwards and crawling back away from him. 
He can’t be here. He, of all people, can’t be here.
And yet, something within you is screeching in delight.
'That’s him, isn’t it? The object of your desires? How fun!’
You swallow. Hard. 
“Astarion, I -” 
He holds up a hand, silencing you. “I’m aware.”
“Shadowheart informed us of your… predicament,” he continues, “I can’t help but feel partly responsible, seeing as I was there when you found the chocolate -”
“The chocolate? Is that - wait, what?” 
Shit. Your head is pounding. 
You press your palms against your eyes and groan. 
“I’ll spare you the details, but that chocolate was laced with succubus spittle - a highly potent aphrodisiac - and you, my dear, have consumed enough to bring an entire brothel to its knees.”
Your eyes snap open, meeting his own. There isn’t an ounce of humor in his tone. No sign of his usual mischief.
Gods, he’s being fucking serious.
“Now, as amusing as this might be if it were anyone else, I’d prefer it if our party’s leader made it out of this alive, and that leaves us with a choice."
You gaze at him silently, waiting as the candlelight paints his sharp features in warm hues of amber and honey. 
'He’s quite handsome. I see why you like him.’
“You can ride this out alone,” Astarion explains, “Shadowheart will return with her best salves and more potions for the fever. We’ll hope this passes quickly, but Wyll’s translation suggests the amount you consumed could leave you in this state for up to a week.”
Your stomach churns. You’re going to be sick.
“And the alternative?” you manage to ask.
His hand finds yours, fingers intertwining with your own. Your skin prickles at the contact.
“The alternative is that you let me help you through this. Consider it a repayment, of sorts, for gifting me your blood. I’m somewhat of an expert on… well,” he lets out a humorless laugh, “let’s just say, I’m the best chance you’ve got.”
Maybe it's the blood roaring in your ears, or maybe you’re still dreaming, but it sounds like Astarion is offering to… fuck you?
“I’m sorry, what?”
He groans, visibly frustrated. “Sex, my dear. If the magic is compelling you to have it, I think we should listen.”
‘Handsome and smart.’ 
You hiss, “Would you please shut up?”
Astarion squints. “What was that?”
“Nothing, sorry.” You clear your throat. “Listen, I - I get what you’re trying to do. I appreciate it, really, but -” 
Pain lances through your abdomen, a sharp, icy shard that interrupts your words. You clutch at your side, releasing Astarion’s hand before falling helplessly on your back, twisting in agony.
He inches closer, voice tinged with urgency. “We’re running out of time. If you want my help, it's best to ask now, because as much as I love the idea of you begging for me to bed you, I won’t be comfortable doing this unless you agree to this while you’ve still got your wits about you.” 
Tears sting the corners of your eyes, blurring your vision at the edges. He’s right. You don’t think you can endure this alone, and as much as you fucking hate to admit it, the damned succubus magic - that thing - is right.  
You do desire him. You’ve wanted him since the moment you met beside the nautiloid. Now here he is, offering to alleviate your suffering.  
There’s just one part of his offer that you can’t quite come to terms with.
“I didn’t let you drink from me because I was hoping you’d repay me.” Your voice warbles, wet and stressed, “I can’t have sex with you if it’ll just be part of some ridiculous transaction. Not with anyone, and certainly not with you.” 
His expression softens as your words sink in. It’s a confession, of sorts. The kind he’s wholly unfamiliar with. It stuns him almost to the point of speechlessness.  
“My apologies. Believe me, it was more of an excuse than anything. I didn’t mean to suggest…” He lets his words trail off, shaking his head. You two can revisit this conversation later, when time isn’t of the essence. “It doesn’t matter. I want to do this. Let me help you.” 
The sincerity in his voice sends a shiver up your spine.
It’s clear he means this.
He means every word. 
You nod. “Okay.”
Astarion clears his throat, rolling the tension off his shoulders. 
“Good. Now that we’ve got that taken care of,” he says as he throws one of his legs over your waist, straddling you, “Why don’t you lie back and let me take care of this, hm?” 
His posture is relaxed. Confident. He regards you with hooded eyes and the faintest hint of a smirk. It’s quite the sight, one you’d enjoy significantly more if your body wasn’t busy screaming for his attention. 
His deft hands make quick work of the laces of your shirt, and with every string that loosens, your composure unravels further. You squirm, unable to resist the heat that teases your skin and the growing itch beneath it. 
As if Astarion can sense your rising panic, he places a cool palm against your burning cheek, his touch both gentle and practiced as he rubs smooth circles at the dip of your temple. 
“Relax, dear,” he whispers, both a request and a command. The gentle lilt in his voice masks the underlying authority, but your body obeys all the same, tension releasing from your muscles. “I’ve got you.”
Astarion quickly rids you of the offending fabric, chest and stomach now bared to him. His eyes scan over your form with focused intensity, lips pinched between his teeth, like an artist deciding what to make of their blank canvas.
“Normally, I’d take my time with this,” he admits, “but given the circumstances…” He swiftly undoes the buttons of your trousers before yanking them off along with your smallclothes. One single, fluid motion. 
He can’t hide the mild shock that follows when he sees the state of you - dripping wet, red and pulsing with need. 
He dips the tip of his finger between your folds. It glides over velvet skin, coating the digit in warm, wet slick. A strangled, pitiful noise escapes from your throat.
For a moment, Astarion’s calculated expression falters, surprised by the rate at which your body opens itself up to him. A glint of hunger lurks beneath the surface.
“This may be easier than I thought.” He says with a smirk, more to himself than to you. 
He presses two digits in, slow and intentional. There’s no resistance; A knife through warm butter. You’re dripping down his knuckles, gripping around him like a vice. He slides all the way in until the heel of his palm meets your clit. 
“Breathe.” 
Not even realizing you’d been holding your breath, you release it with a shutter.
“Very good.” He punctuates his words with the slow drag of his fingers. Long, languid movements. He’s taking his sweet time with you, pulling scandalous little cries from your lips. It’s like he’s toying with you - seeing how long you can hold out before breaking. 
It doesn’t take much time at all.
“Astarion -”
“Yes?”
“Please.”
“Please, what? What do you need, darling?” His eyes are fixed on your own, grin tugging at the edge of his mouth. A cat playing with a cornered mouse.
“More. Anything.” 
He hums in approval, then wets the pad of his thumb on his tongue before drawing circles exactly where you need. Heat coils at the base of your spine, forming a ball of tension that threatens to snap. 
The sheer intensity of it is enough to scare you, caught between the urge to chase the sensation or flee from it. “Astarion, I -” 
He ignores your warning as if he hadn’t heard it, plunging his fingers into your heat and curling them - expertly caressing a spot that threatens to shatter you. Your hands fly out, gripping the fabric of his shirt, the sheets beneath you, anything in a desperate attempt to ground yourself.
“Go on, love. Let it out. I’ve got you.” 
Your body seizes as your orgasm tears through you, igniting every one of your oversensitive nerves. Back arching off the bedroll, several strangled sounds - almost pained - rip from your throat. The pleasure threatens to tear you apart, but the thick fog of lust occupying your mind begins to subside, offering the slightest bit of clarity as you twitch beneath him. 
Astarion grabs you by the jaw, tilting your head this way and that, admiring his handiwork. He's quite pleased with himself, with the mess he's made of you - jaw slack and brows pinched. He coaxes out the aftershocks, watching you squeeze around his fingers.
"There,” he gives you a playful pat on the cheek, "You're looking better already." 
"You're - agh - enjoying this too much."
"I never said I wasn't going to enjoy it." 
A beat of silence passes between the two of you as he allows you to catch your breath. For a moment, you think the coast is clear - that maybe, this was as far as things had to go. This was what the magic was compelling you to do, or at the very least - it was close enough. You fulfilled its wishes. Surely.
But then he pulls out of you, and the second you feel the vacuum of emptiness where his fingers once were, that voice in your head is screeching like some sort of petulant child. It pouts, waggling its non-existent finger in your direction. The demanding bitch. 
Part of you, instinctually, realizes that this is just the beginning - that you’re simply at the edge of the shore watching the tides recede while a devastating wave builds somewhere in the distance. 
“What is it? Does it still hurt?” Astarion asks, breaking the silence, and you realize that no, it doesn’t. Not like before, at least. 
You shake your head.
“Good. I’d wager that means this is working.” He smiles triumphantly, working the laces of his own clothes, and ridding himself of the final layers between you, revealing an intricate network of muscle beneath. For a man who’d supposedly been starved for the last two centuries, he certainly doesn’t look the part.
Astarion nudges your legs apart with his thigh, then settles between your knees, dragging the head of his cock between your folds. He hums in approval, admiring the sight as he coats himself in your slick. It practically drools out of you.
There’s no resistance when he dips himself into your entrance. 
His eyes scan over your face, searching for any discomfort, but all he finds is need. 
So, he presses in further. 
“Shit, you -” 
He hisses, sucking in a sharp breath as he bottoms out, then takes a moment, eyes pinched shut, collecting himself. 
He slides out, just an inch or so, before plunging back in, buried as deeply as he can reach. It’s so damn easy, the sinfully wet mess you’ve left all over his cock allowing him to glide in and out, tilting his hips with each thrust.
The stretch of him is perfect, like you were made for this - made to take him. His length rubbing and dragging against your walls acts like a balm, relaxing your body as you swallow and grip him in scorching heat. 
He grabs one of your thighs, pressing it into your chest - the new angle allowing him to sink even deeper into your core.
It isn’t long before you’re begging him for more, digging your heels into the curve of his back.
Astarion starts pounding into you - a new, brutal pace spurred on by your encouragement and the wet, filthy slap of his skin against yours. The sounds reverberate off the canvas of your tent, blending with your choked sobs. You just know your companions are going to have something to say about this in the morning, but you honestly can’t bring yourself to care. 
The only thing that matters now is the man above you - his nails digging into the flesh of your ass, whispering how good you feel. How well you’re taking him, “Like you were made for this - for me.” His grunts are like music to your ears, drowning out all other thoughts as his chest vibrates against your own.
It’s all too much. 
Your orgasm sneaks up on you before you have a chance to warn him, but he feels the way you flutter around his cock and acts on instinct - snaking his fingers between your bodies and rubbing your clit in quick circles. 
You throw your head back with a cry, shaking beneath him, and grip him like a vice as you come. The force of it slams into you, hot and devastating, tightening every muscle within its wake. You wind your limbs tightly around the hard planes of Astarion’s body as he rolls his hips into you, slow and deep. 
You can feel him twitching inside you, his rhythm suddenly stuttering with each thrust. Something tells you he’d come now, if you’d allow him.
But where?
'Where else?'
The very idea of him not spilling every drop he has inside of you disturbs you nearly to the point of panic, and with that, you finally understand what this damned succubus has been demanding of you this entire time.
“Astarion, please. I need you.” 
“Where?” he asks, voice muffled, panting hot and open-mouthed against the swell of your shoulder.
“Inside,” you beg, “Please. Please -  It’s alright.” 
He shudders, surging up into you one last time with a strangled grunt. Holding onto your hips, he pulses within you, the warmth of his release filling you to the brim, until a thick white ring of come forms at the base of his length. You can’t help but clench around him, moving to match his previous pace and trying desperately to wring as much out of him as you can, until it begins to seep out onto the sheets beneath you.
It isn’t until he stills inside of you that you release your hold on him. The two of you take a minute to collect yourselves, waiting for your heart to settle and listening to Astarion’s ragged breaths. 
He lifts his weight off of you with a grunt, settling back on his knees. 
“That was - agh,” he shivers as he pulls out of you. You don’t even want to look at the mess.
“I’m going to have to burn these sheets, aren’t I?” you ask, sitting up on your shoulders.
He throws his head back with a genuine, hearty laugh, and cards his fingers through his dampened hair. 
This is the most relaxed you think you’ve ever seen him - not a scowl line in sight. He rolls his shoulders, and sighs at the subsequent pop before turning his focus back on you.
“I’ll have you know,” Astarion muses, “I’ve done this more times than I can count— but this, my dear,” he chuckles, “This was one for the books.”
“So, was sleeping with me everything you could have possibly imagined?” It’s an obvious joke, given your tone. An offer to squash any chance of this happening again, should he wish to. An exit. 
He hums playfully. “Well, next time I think I’d prefer the subtle influence of wine over a mind-altering aphrodisiac, if it's all the same to you.”
There’s a beat of silence. 
Did he just offer to do this again? Well, not exactly, but -
“And how are you feeling?” Astarion asks. 
Better, is the honest answer. Slightly confused and deeply embarrassed, but better. 
The apologies you’ll have to make after the night’s over seem endless, both to him and to Shadowheart for all the trouble you caused. Not to mention the others, who’ve probably had the sound of your squealing burned into their memories forever. The idea of it is daunting.
“Because if you’re still reeling from any nasty, lingering effects,” he continues, “I’m sure I could be… persuaded to help again.”
Oh.
Hm.
“Well, now that you mention it…”
-
Tag List (sorry if I missed anyone! I only added you if you explicitly asked to be tagged): @daedriclys @captain039 @sushiumex @sugasweettea @marauders-moon @starlightelegy @ablxssm @the-lake-is-calling
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frogchiro · 6 months
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HII HII ur writing is perf 4 this idea but you don’t hav 2 do it !! i js thought of u <3 little red riding hood reader & big bad wolf (ko, ghost, price) any cod guy & i think it’s js soo cute !!!
[art by doujinpearl]
ARE YOU KIDDING ME THIS IS SO CUTE??? YOU NEVER MISS LOVE!!! And thank you it really means a lot to me that you like my silly writing <33
tw// horror elements and this has like one mention of a 'off-screen' death but no one major
I think I'm gonna go with König for this one?? Bc something about him just screams big bad wolf to me y'know? Also for the sake of this story, König is described like on the pics above, so his lower half is life a literal werewolf.
okay also i'm putting this under the cut because this somehow grew into a whole fic?? My dear @9irly9irl if you see this know that I love you and this was so. freaking. enjoyable to write??? I love this so much??? Also I'm sorry for the horror themes but I'm getting ready for October and the gloomy weather outside made me do this. I hope you still enjoy and PLEASE send me more for this au!!
Big bad wolf König who is on the prowl for some time now, he's on a hunt for you, the sweet girl who lives alone with her mother on the edge of the dark forest your good old momma always tells you to stay away from and for good reason. The townsfolk from the villages around whisper in fear and dread about a monster lurking in the woods, half man-half wolf with an insatiable taste for blood; they call the beast König, the undisputed King.
And honestly? König likes that rep. It means less annoying pests wandering around his territory safe for a groups of young guys from time to time who think they have the balls to try and 'kill the beast' but they are dealt with...pretty quickly.
But no, König has his glowing eyes set on something more...Exquisite. On something soft and pliable, sweet smelling and so so pretty. Namely on you. The werewolf guesses he has to be thanking his lucky starts or whatever bullshit that while sniffing around your cottage he overheard your mother talking about going out into the forest to bring her sickly mother, your grandma, a basket full of food and some other supplies and being the sweet little thing that you are, you of course cried and volunteered to go yourself, that your mother is already older and that you will make quick work of it.
König swears that day that his blood never rushed downward to his dick so fast. You, soft little you, all alone in his forest? His territory?? It's like you're begging to get taken and mated! The trek from your cottage to your grandma's home would take you about 2-3 days as she lives deep in the woods, the perfect timing for him to reveal himself and take you away for himself into his den in the darkest parts of the forest where you will have the perfect life with him! No more worrying about food or warmth during the cold, dreary winter months, he is more than a capable provider for his future mate, not to mention your future litter of happy yipping pups you will birth for him! It's a perfect plan!
And so he waits. And waits. And waits until the day you finally leave with your cute basket in tow and a tearful goodbye with your mommy dear that you will return as soon as possible. Yea, sure sweetheart.
I think he'd reveal himself by the time it's getting nighttime, when the sun sets, the air is getting cold and a ominous darkness sets over the forest where your trembling body sits in a makeshift nest made of a blanket and a thick animal pelt under a old, big tree. Everything seems so loud, the cries of nocturnal animals sound much more bleak and unnerving, not to mention the weird, chilling feeling of...something following you. Like there were a pair of eyes trained on you since a few weeks ago but you never mentioned this to your poor mother as you didn't want to worry her, but the feeling only amplified ever since you left your home and went on a trip to your grandmother.
You couldn't help the loud yelp you let out when suddenly a pair of glowing golden eyes appeared in the small clearing around the tree; a pair of glowing, unblinking orbs that seemed to be suspended in the air in the surrounding darkness, the weak fireplace you managed to make doing basically nothing to light up the area and your poor little heart started to beat like crazy when you noticed the eyes moving forward, closer and closer to you until the light finally caught what was moving towards you...or more like who.
It was an enormous man, easily over 7ft tall, his broad, bulky shoulders moving as he stood from the position he was in to his full height and those ominous glowing eyes still were unblinking as they stared at you like you were just some lamb and...you probably were.
The one thing that somehow stood out the most, even amidst literally everything else unnatural about this man, were a pair of ear on top of his head, which only now you noticed was covered in some sort of tattered old hood with holes for the eyes and ears, and a huge fluffy tail which was wagging faster anytime you seemed to look the man over, but what really brought it all together was his lower half...it-it was all fur. His legs were that of some bipedal wolf and in that moment a silent scream tried to make its way out of your throat; it was König, the brutal and unforgiving beast that resided in the surrounding forests, the one that people tell horror stories about around campfire and...he was here. He was here before you to tear you apart and leave nothing behind, not even bones.
Tears were streaming down your face, a look of utter defeat on it because after all, what more could you do? You can't possibly fight him, you can't outrun him, hiding is out of the picture too...You were ready to feel the unimaginable pain of those jaws locking themselves on your throat and draining you of your life but the you felt...warmth? A slick, warm feeling on your cheek and when you opened your eyes a bit you saw what it was. It was König, or more like his long tongue licking away at your cheek in an almost comforting matter, his wide unblinking eyes still trained on you though his pupils seemed to grow in size, now taking over most of the glowing yellow and when he deemed you to be clean of your tears, a large crooked nose with a scar running across it nudged into your cheek and took a deep sniff to get your scent. A stray thought ran through your mind when you took a closer look at his uncovered face and noticed another huge scar across his face and a few smaller ones, who or what in their right mind got close enough to inflict such wounds on someone like König?
When you stayed still and just stared at him wide eyed and out of breath König let out a deep growl like purr of content; he could hear your small aborted breaths still coming out quick and your heart fluttering in your chest like a small erratic bird but he could see that you were a tiny bit calmer now and not on the brink of hysterics like a few seconds before. He couldn't help but grin in delight, a nasty, wide thing that revealed rows of sharp teeth. He finally had you. He had you exactly where he wanted and now you were his. Well not completely yet, you two would need to mate first but still, everyone had to start somewhere right? For now he had you calmed down even for a bit, showed you that he wasn't a threat to you and wasn't going to hurt you. It was still only the night of the first day of your travels and he will offer to guide you, he couldn't possibly allow such a cute young lady to just wander around the deep dark forest all alone, right?
Of course he won't mention it that he will be herding you away from the path and instead guide you deeper and deeper into the heart of the woods where his den in. He won't mention it that he will be making very obvious and insistent advances at you, insisting on staying close at all times and wrapping his huge body around you at night for warmth, nosing and nudging at you to cover you in his scent and maybe make you a little bit hot under that deliciously low neckline of the dress that you're wearing, the cape in a lovely shade of red acting like a blanket to shield you away when König is nosing at your neck and bosom, greedy for all the tiny, shy, flustered noises you make, greedy for making you all hot and ready for him.
And of course he certainly won't mention to you about your poor old granny's corpse, rotting for weeks already in her old, decaying house where she died of some illness or old age. No, no, your new life is here, with him. Forever.
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melzula · 2 months
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Could you write a Sokka x firebender reader that has the plot of the secret tunnel episode but instead of aang and katara getting stuck together it’s him and reader? :)
Don’t Let the Cave In Get You Down
a/n: got two requests for this sokka storyline and i was very excited to write it! i couldn’t find a way to seamlessly include the fire bending part of the request but i could definitely build on that in another piece. hope you enjoy <3
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you met the Gaang when they were passing through a small trading village on the outskirts of the Earth Kingdom
they were low on supplies and in need of a shopping spree, so they stopped at your little food stand in search of fresh fruit and snacks for their travels
you seemed awfully young to have your own business, especially when compared to the other merchants, but you were kind and your prices were affordable
their shopping spree was cut short by the arrival of fire nation soldiers, but you quickly escorted them through the backstreets of the marketplace and helped them evade the soldiers
“That was a close call,” Aang breathed out in relief, “thanks for your help.”
“Those guys are jerks, I couldn’t live with myself if I had just let them capture you.”
“Who are you?” Katara asked in awe.
“My name is y/n, and I’ve been hiding out in this village for about three years now. I escaped from the Fire Nation when I was 12 and never looked back.”
“Wait a minute, Fire Nation?!” Sokka exclaimed before quickly pushing his sister and Aang behind him. Raising his boomerang in a threatening manor, he narrowed his eyes at you. “Is this some kind of trick?! Did you just lure us out here so you could capture Aang and get the reward for yourself?”
“Sokka, you’re being ridiculous!” Katara had scolded angrily, harshly pushing his boomerang away. “She said herself she came here to get away from the Fire Nation, I’m sure she’s just trying to make a better life for herself here and you’re not making that any easier for her by being a jerk!”
“I don’t trust her, Katara!”
You’re a little disheartened by the disdain in his voice when he speaks about you, and despite Katara vouching for you you can see that you’re out of place
“I’m sorry, I’ve made things awkward,” you apologized sheepishly, “I’ll leave you now.”
“Wait!” Aang called, stopping you from going. “If what you said is true then… then I think you should come with us.”
“Tell me you’re joking,” Sokka scoffed in disbelief
“If she’s from the Fire Nation then she must have knowledge about the ins and outs of that place. Maybe she can even help me find a fire bending master. We need her help, Sokka.”
Though he was reluctant and very distrusting of you, Sokka realized Aang was right, so he begrudgingly allowed the airbender to welcome you to their team
You agreed to help as much as you can, and the rest was history
From there on out you’re officially a member of Team Avatar, but that doesn’t mean Sokka becomes any more trusting of you
He always keeps a suspicious eye on you, never letting you help with tasks he deems too important to avoid having you “sabotage” the group
His lack of trust in you hurts, you can’t lie about that, but you continue to do what you can to aid the Avatar and his friends and earn their trust
Of course, this all changes when you get to the cave of two lovers
Unlike Sokka, you found Chong and his group of Nomads to be great fun. They’d braided your hair beautifully with flowers from the lake and performed wonderful songs, so despite your predicament you were in a cheerful mood
Being stuck in the cave had put a strain on your group’s mission to make it to Omashu, but you tried to remain hopeful and help as best as you can
Surprisingly, Sokka even puts you in charge of holding one of the torches
“I’m only giving this to you because I know you’re at least smart enough not to waste resources while we’re in here.”
It’s a start
And it’s a good thing he gave you that torch, because it comes in handy when you both end up getting separated from the rest of the group
“This is just great,” Sokka utters sarcastically after several failed attempts to dig through the rock and get back to the others.
“Come on, Sokka, lighten up. We have a torch and your map, I’m sure we’ll be able to figure something out,” you try to console. “What did Chong say earlier? ‘Don’t let the cave in get you down, Sokka.’”
He’s not amused by your singing
It’s a bit awkward being stuck with the boy who’s been so adamant that you don’t belong despite your best efforts to prove that you can be trusted
You don’t speak much and try to stay out of his way and follow his lead, but the tunnels keep changing and you keep getting lost and your torch is about to burn out, so things are beginning to seem hopeless
“Maybe we should try changing our strategy,” you offer only for Sokka to immediately dismiss you.
“Right, like I’m going to let you lead us through the cave. You’ll probably make us get lost on purpose.”
“You know, if you stopped being so judgmental for a second you’d probably realize that i want to get out of this cave just as much as you do!” You snap irritably, surprising Sokka. you’ve mostly stayed docile to try and keep the peace whenever Sokka accuses you of being untrustworthy, but at this point you’re finally starting to get fed up
“You’re right, I’m sorry,” he says softly, and this time you’re the one who’s surprised. You never thought he’d actually apologize to you, and it’s a nice feeling. “What do you suggest we do?”
“Well,” you start with a sigh, “maybe the story is right. Maybe if we trust in love, we’ll find our way out of here.”
“You’re joking, right?”
“Do you have any better ideas?”
You simply shrug, prompting Sokka to let out a heavy sigh. Your torch is going to run out soon, and his map isn’t doing anyone any favors. It seems you have no choice
“How exactly do we trust in love?”
“I’m not sure… the only love I know is the love I had from my parents, but I haven’t felt it in so long… I’m not sure I ever will again.”
“…What happened to them?”
“My parents were peasants with nothing but love to give each other. They were poor, but they were happy,” you explain with a faint smile. “My father was a fire bender, but he kept his gift hidden in fear he’d be forced to serve in the Fire Nation army. He didn’t want to leave me or my mother, but our home was attacked, and he had no choice but to bend to protect us. Our lives were saved, but he was taken away.”
Sokka hangs on to your every word, eyes glistening with unshed tears and sympathy. Your story is similar to his own, and he knows what it’s like to lose your family to the Fire Nation. He feels less disdain towards you now, more empathetic. He still isn’t 100% sure how to feel about you, but hearing your story makes you easier to understand now
“My mother knew I’d never be safe or happy if I stayed there, so she arranged for me to be smuggled out of the Fire Nation and brought to the trading village you first met me in. I haven’t seen or heard from her since, and I’m not even sure if she or my father are even alive.”
“I’m sorry,” Sokka utters solemnly. “Katara and I lost our mother to the Fire Nation, and we haven’t seen our father since he left to fight in the war. I know how you feel.”
“I don’t want to be Fire Nation, you know. None of this was a choice, and I understand why you don’t trust me but I’m not like them Sokka. Please believe me.”
“I’m sorry for always giving you such a hard time. It’s just… it’s hard to believe people from the Fire Nation can actually be good. But you’ve proven that you can be trusted over and over again, I was just too blind to see it.”
“Can we start over?” He asks with a sheepish smile, carefully sticking his hand out for you to shake. Instead, you push his hand away and throw your arms around him in a tight embrace.
The force of your hug knocks him back a bit, and though he’s unsure at first, he eventually returns your embrace by carefully wrapping his arms around your figure
The fire of your torch slowly begins to die, but neither of you seem to notice or care as you enjoy your moment together
You expect to be engulfed in darkness when the flame goes out, but instead you’re met with the beautiful shimmers of the crystals that line the roofs of the cave
“It’s so beautiful,” you murmur in awe, your eyes sparkling under the light
“Yeah,” your counterpart utters quietly, but he isn’t looking at the crystals
“Was she always this pretty?” Sokka wondered to himself
Together, you’re eventually able to follow the crystals and make your way out of the cave
And when you leave the cave, hands woven tightly together, you leave as two completely new people
You understand each other now, you trust each other
And your relationship will only continue to grow stronger from then on out
| atla tags: @sirkekselord @chronic-daydreamer @niktwazny303
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alisonwritesimagines · 6 months
Text
I Was Enchanted to Meet You ~LA!Shanks x Reader~
Summary: Shanks comes back to you before he leaves your village once again. Except this time, it may be your final goodbye.
Author’s Note: I just watched the live action One Piece show and I have to say... I am a slut for Buggy, Shanks, and Mihawk.
Fluff Ending | Angst Ending
Reader’s Pronouns: She/Her
Warnings: angst, some fluff, mentions of smut, reader and Shanks being Luffy's adoptive parents in a way
Side Note: This is a secondary blog. If you comment a question down below, I will not answer since this is not the main blog. Please send the question to my inbox if you want a response back!
Do not repost this anywhere!
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You were Luffy's caretaker and teacher. While his grandfather was a high respected Marine, he entrusted you with his grandson whenever he wasn't available to take care of him.
"I'm bored of this," Luffy said as you two were going over some reading.
"A good pirate should know how to read."
"Yeah but I should be preparing to set sail when Shanks comes back," Luffy said.
"How about this? We can go see Shanks today since he is suppose to be back today after we finish our lesson?" You asked him.
"Alright!" Luffy smiled before looking down at his book.
True to your word, you both headed over to the dock where you saw Shanks's ship. You watched as Luffy rushed over to the deck before helping out.
"Luffy! I was wondering when you'd pop up," Shanks said as he finally noticed the small boy. You leaned against the edge while Shanks looked around before finally seeing you. His smile widen a little more before walking over towards you.
"And how are you, my dear Y/n?" Shanks asked as he raised your hand to his lips.
"Nice to see you again Shanks," you smiled at him.
"I'm not joking! I'm ready to join your crew," Luffy insisted to Shanks.
"The sea isn't a child's game. It's dangerous. The scars on my face are proof of that. Besides, I need someone to watch over Y/n and I trust you," Shanks told Luffy as he continued to help his crew unload their ship.
"I can do it, Shanks. I swear," Luffy said.
"You're not ready."
"I am. And I'll show you!" Luffy said before rushing off in the ship. You walked over to Shanks before placing your hand on his. He looked over at you as you gave him a look.
"You really need to be more easy on him. You know how he can be," you tell Shanks.
"Better a disappointed kid now than a dead one later."
"I blame you for being a good pirate and influencing him," you tell him.
"I missed you. Let's celebrate my return tonight together shall we?" Shanks asked you.
"Hey, Shanks!" You heard Luffy. You quickly turned around to see Luffy standing on the top of the view port making you gasp once you saw the knife.
"Luffy! You better come back down here and put that knife back where you found it!" You tell him.
"Listen to Y/n, Luffy. Before you hurt yourself," Shanks called out.
"I'm not afraid of getting hurt. And I'll prove it to you," Luffy yelled before stabbing right below his eye.
"Luffy!" You screamed in shock and horror.
"Get the first aid kit! I'll get him down," Shanks told you. You nodded before rushing out of the ship to grab your first aid kit.
"Why would you do that to yourself?!" You asked Luffy as you stitched him up.
"You could've stabbed your eye," Shanks told him as he sat next to you.
"I was aiming for it, but I missed," Luffy told you.
"Ow," Luffy said as you tightened the stitches a little.
"I thought you said you were tough," Shanks asked him.
"I am! Y/n is just being a little too rough. I want everyone to see my scar," Luffy said.
"Scars don't make the man, Luffy. It's the lesson behind the scar and you didn't earn this one," Shanks told him before tapping his cheek.
"Then let me earn it. I'll be the best pirate ever. Look, I've been practicing what my face is gonna look like on my wanted poster," Luffy said before making a face. You shook your head at him as you gathered your things.
"You are going to give me a heart attack, Luffy," you tell him as you ruffled his hair. You stood up and walked away to put your first aid kit back.
When you made it back to the bar, you saw Shanks walk up to your with your favorite drink. You sat on the chair next to the bar as you faced Shanks. He raised the glasses to you with a smile.
"Have a drink with me," Shanks told you.
"I need to look after Luffy."
"One drink. Then later tonight, you meet me at my ship and we can have our little reunion?" Shanks insisted.
It was no doubt that the two of you had feelings for one another. Shanks loved how soft and caring you were while you loved his gentle touch when it came to you.
"Fine. I hope I don't find anything that belongs to another woman in your ship again," you tell him, remembering the last time you went to his ship after Luffy was asleep.
"It was one time and you know I changed my ways for you," Shanks said as he wrapped his arm around your waist. You took a swing of your drink before giving him a light kiss on the cheek.
Once it became nightfall, you got Luffy ready for bed so you could meet with Shanks. After finding out that he ate a devil fruit, you were livid but you knew that Luffy didn't understand what power and weaknesses the devil fruit had affected him.
"I don't know why you won't let us go with Shanks," Luffy said as you tucked him in.
"You know that the sea isn't for me and you aren't ready to be a pirate. Even if you did eat a devil's fruit," you tell him.
"But you and Shanks love each other. Why can't we just sail with him? I can learn how to be a pirate and I'm stronger now," Luffy said.
"Your grandfather will kill me if I just took you away. And like I said, I am not too fond of the sea. Now it's time for bed for you," you tell him.
"Fine. Goodnight, Y/n."
"Goodnight, Luffy."
Once he was fully asleep, you walked over to Shanks's ship where you could see his quarter's lights on. You walked over to his room where he lied on his bed with his shirt off.
"Getting straight to the point now are we?" You teased as you closed the door behind you. You locked the door before walking over towards his bed. Shanks sat up so you could stand in between his legs.
"I missed you, my love," Shanks said as he pulled you down on the bed with him.
He cupped your cheeks as he kissed you passionately. You cupped his cheeks as well, smoothing your thumb against his scars below his eye.
"I missed you too," you tell him in between kisses.
"Let me have you for tonight," Shanks said as he undid your dress. You sat up before slipping it off of your body.
"You're as beautiful as the day I met you," Shanks praised as he sat up to kiss your body.
-
"How long are you staying this time?" You asked him as you both lied in his bed. Your naked bodies was covered by the thin blanket as you both held onto each other.
"Till tomorrow," Shanks told you.
"How long will you be gone?" You asked. Shanks stayed quiet making you look up at him.
"Shanks. How long will you be gone?" You repeated.
"We're not coming back this time, my love," Shanks told you.
"What?"
"Come with me. I'll take care of you and-"
"Shanks, my home is here. And I can't leave Luffy. He's still a growing boy and I could never forgive myself if I were to abandon him," you tell him as you sat up.
"My love-"
"Shanks, I'm not joining you in the sea and you know why. I'm sorry," you tell him as you got up and put your clothes back on.
"Stay the night. Please," Shanks said as he held your hand.
"I can't. I think it's best if we ended this," you tell him.
"I don't want this to end. Please, Y/n. Come with me to find the One Piece and we can live our lives out together," Shanks told you. You shook your head at him before giving him one last kiss.
"I love you, Shanks. But I can't leave here. Not yet at least," you tell him before walking out.
-
The next day, you watched as Shanks says his goodbye to Luffy. You stared as he gave his hat to Luffy before making eye contact with you. He walked over towards you before taking something out of his pocket.
"I saw this while I was away and wanted to give it to you," Shanks said as he held out a beautiful ring.
"Shanks-"
"I just want you to know that I want you, my love. Will you wait for me?" Shanks asked.
"You need to find that one piece soon so you can come back and get me," you tell him with a small smile.
"I'll come back for you. I promise," Shanks said before sliding the ring onto your finger. He quickly gave you a kiss before walking away.
You put an arm around Luffy as you watched Shanks's ship sail off. You both waved at him as he stared at the two of you.
"When I become King of the Pirates, I'll give you a nice home where you and Shanks can live the rest of your lives together," Luffy tells you. You smiled down at him before ruffling his hair.
"I'll hold you to that," you tell him.
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