FLAPDOODLE
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“You said you would be my slave.” She coos, raising her head, staring down at him so full of pride.
“I said we were equals.” He responds cautiously, leaning back on his hands as he watches her intently, trying to guess her next move.
She walks toward him, crowding his personal space until she crouches down, tilting her head to the side. He mimics her, his breathing already growing heavy.
“We are.” She agrees, raising a finger and pressing it to the centre of his chest. “But you still want to be mine, deep inside.”
Bookmarked by FLAPDOODLE
24 Feb 2026
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He was disgusted with himself. Fascinated with her. Drawn to the way her pretty face fit perfectly in his hands, five fingers wrapping around her skull as his thumbs absently stroked her cheek. Quaritch has always prided himself in his loyalty for humanity. Never would he have thought to find himself obsessed with the way she moved, how her hips swayed when she danced by the fire. The female. A Na’vi.
God, he could feel his old self raging at the fact. But Miles Quaritch was a dead man, after all. With the same hands that once crushed his old skull, this pair of new hands were carefully caressing her features. Somewhere in hell, he can’t do shit but watch as he traced the trail of red paint from the parting of her hair, down to her nose. Stopping at her mouth, his thumb tugging at her bottom lip. Varang didn’t hiss, didn’t bite. Instead she watches silently, taking him deeper into her mouth, tongue instinctively rolling at his thumb.
For a split second she had the look of a domesticated animal.
Bookmarked by FLAPDOODLE
23 Feb 2026
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"Hungry?" His girl had a habit of waking up hungry as a pack of wolves, which could put his—Quaritch's—limbs in danger. A hungry Tsahìk was no joke, ladies and gentlemen.
"Mmm, no. But, I might be thirsty." She said it in such a sultry voice that Quaritch had no doubt whatsoever what exactly the Tsahìk was thirsty for.
Well, he certainly wasn't going to refuse her.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 1,744
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Collections:
- 1
- Comments:
- 1
- Kudos:
- 55
- Bookmarks:
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Bookmarked by FLAPDOODLE
22 Feb 2026
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Kremy LeCroux, the best conman in all of Agwe and slowly expanding to the best conman in all of Avantris, stood in front of the mirror in the dingy bathroom of their current tavern.
Having drunk more than necessary already, he felt his head swim like a lazy fish in the sluggish waters of the bayou he called home. His palms gripped the cool sides of the mirror.
He wasn’t sure why he’d decided drinking would douse the flames of jealousy burning in his chest.
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Kremy's met with Garou, paid their debts and then some, and is now ready to live it up for a week or five in the prettiest city he'd ever been to, roads swimming with lights and flair as the street parades began for the Week of Deities. Unfortunately, old faces lead to old places, and it seems the stream is twisting in a way he isn't too keen on.
Caught between a waterfall of tears and the rocky rapids of regret, he needs to learn to ask for help. A new deal with Garou weighs on his heart and hips.
Series
- Part 1 of Ledet, Cowle, and Crumbs
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 135,907
- Chapters:
- 22/22
- Comments:
- 806
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- 441
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Bookmarked by FLAPDOODLE
21 Feb 2026
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It starts with whiskey. High-proof, clean-burning, magically fortified whiskey that does something to Gideon’s blood, awakening his fiery ancestors' heat. Kremy’s ready for intensity. He’s not ready for what happens when Gideon's flames turn his favorite color. Neither is Gideon.
Gideon goes into heat and can't stop until he's satisfied.
Written to fulfill a kink meme
Bookmarked by FLAPDOODLE
20 Feb 2026