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moonselune · 5 months ago

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Could I request a Tav that has a gorgeous sibling, that has stolen at least one of Tav's lovers in the past, and tries to put the moves on one of the boys when they get back to the city?

ooohooohoooooooooo I love this

Gale:

The library at Candlekeep was a sanctuary of knowledge and tranquility. Gale was engrossed in a tome, his mind deep in the arcane intricacies of a spell when he heard the soft padding of footsteps approaching. He looked up to see your sister, a vision of beauty with her hair cascading in waves and eyes that sparkled with mischief.

"Gale," she purred, stepping closer. "I've always admired your intellect and… other qualities."

Gale arched an eyebrow, sensing the underlying tone of her words. He had heard about her previous antics and was prepared to be anything but tolerable. "Is there something you need?" he asked, keeping his tone polite but distant.

She moved closer, her fingers brushing against his arm. "I was hoping we could get to know each other better," she murmured, leaning in as if to kiss him.

Gale stepped back, his expression one of clear distaste. "You must be joking," he said, a hint of laughter in his voice. "The very idea that I would be interested in you rather than dear Y/N is frankly laughable."

Her eyes flashed with surprise and embarrassment. "But… why?" she stammered.

Gale's gaze softened slightly, but his resolve remained firm. "Because I love them," he stated simply. "And nothing you could offer would ever tempt me away from them."

With that, he turned back to his book, chuckling to himself, leaving your sister standing there, her cheeks burning with humiliation. You walked in, a brow cocked at your sister, wondering why she looked distressed and it didn't take you long to piece together why.

Smugly, you strode over to Gale, placing your chin on his shoulder and wrapping your arms around him, kissing his neck. Gale flustered but reciprocated and your sister quickly left to leave you to your private moment.

"I love you," You told him between kisses.

"I love you more." Gale smiled and held you closer. Your sister long forgotten.

Halsin:

Halsin was tending to his herbs and potions in the corner of the camp, his hands moving deftly as he worked. Your brother approached, a feigned look of distress on his face.

"Halsin, I feel so unwell," he said, clutching his stomach dramatically. "Could you please help me?"

Halsin glanced up, his keen eyes immediately recognizing the act. "Of course," he replied, though his tone carried a hint of skepticism. Especially as this was only one of your brother's latest acts. "What seems to be the problem?"

Your brother stumbled forward, leaning heavily on Halsin. "I just need some… intimate attention," he said, his voice dripping with insinuation.

Halsin's brow furrowed in confusion and then realization. He gently but firmly pushed your brother away, his expression one of clear rejection. "I'm afraid you're mistaken if you think I would fall for such a ruse," he said, his voice calm but stern.

"But Halsin, surely you could make an exception," your brother pressed, trying to regain his footing. "I know nature calls to you just as it calls to me, primally."

"It does," Halsin shook his head, his eyes unwavering. "But my heart belongs to your sibling. They are the one I care for deeply, and I will not be swayed by your attempts," he said firmly. "Now, if you are truly unwell, I will help you. But if not, I suggest you leave."

Your brother's face turned red with embarrassment, and he quickly retreated, his plan thwarted. As he walked away you approached Halsin, no words needed to be exchanged and you relaxed in his embrace, knowing that his heart was yours, and yours was his.

Wyll:

Wyll was in the middle of practicing his swordplay near the camp when your sister approached, her eyes gleaming with mischief and intent. She had a reputation for causing trouble, and Wyll had heard the stories, but he always gave people the benefit of the doubt.

"Oh, Wyll," she exclaimed suddenly, her voice filled with a dramatic tone. "I feel so faint!" She staggered forward, pretending to swoon, and Wyll, ever the gentleman, instinctively moved to catch her.

"Are you alright?" he asked, concern evident in his voice.

She batted her eyelashes at him and clung to his arm, her face inching closer to his. "Oh, Wyll, you’re so strong and handsome. How could I ever resist you?" She leaned in for a kiss.

Wyll's eyes widened in realization, and he immediately pulled back, letting her drop unceremoniously to the ground. "What are you doing?" he asked, a mixture of confusion and disgust in his voice.

Your sister looked up at him, shocked and embarrassed. "I thought—"

Wyll shook his head, laughing at the absurdity of the situation. "You thought I would choose you over my love? The very idea is laughable. My heart belongs to them, and nothing you do can change that."

With that, he turned and walked away, leaving her sitting in the dirt, her face red with humiliation.

Astarion:

Astarion was sharpening his daggers by the fire, his eyes reflecting the flames, when your sibling approached, their steps deliberate and their eyes predatory. Astarion glanced up, sensing their presence, but he kept his focus on his task.

"Hello, Astarion," they purred, their voice dripping with false sweetness. "I hear you're quite the expert in, shall we say, matters of blood?" They extended their arm, a small cut visible on their wrist. "Care to help me clean up?"

Astarion's eyes narrowed, his nostrils flaring slightly. He could smell the desperation and deceit. He leaned closer, his expression turning from mild interest to utter revulsion. "Your blood stinks," he said bluntly, pushing their arm away.

They recoiled, shocked and offended. "What did you just say?"

Astarion stood up, his gaze cold and piercing. "I said, your blood stinks. And more importantly, you disgust me. Do you really think I would prefer you over my beloved? The very idea is laughable."

He turned away, leaving them standing there, their face flushed with shame and anger, the sting of his words lingering in the air. "Oh darling you would never guess what just happened-"

Rolan:

Rolan was busy studying his spellbook, completely immersed in his magical studies, when your sister approached, her intentions clear to everyone but him. They sat down next to him, leaning in far closer than necessary.

"Rolan," she whispered, their breath brushing against his ear. "I've always admired your intellect. Maybe you could teach me a few things… in private?"

Rolan looked up from his book, blinking in confusion. "Huh? Oh, sure, I can teach you some spells if you want," he said absentmindedly, turning back to his book.

They placed a hand on his thigh, leaning even closer. "I was thinking of something more… personal."

It took a moment for the implications to register, but when they did, Rolan's eyes widened, and he burst into laughter. He laughed so hard that tears streamed down his face, his laughter echoing through sorcerous sundries.

"You… you really think I'd be interested in you?" he gasped between laughs. "That's hilarious! Oh gods, that's rich. You should be a comedian at the Elfsong!"

Your sister's face turned bright red with humiliation and anger. "But—"

Rolan wiped the tears from his eyes, still chuckling. "Oh, please. The very idea that I would choose you over Y/N is laughable. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have some actual important things to do."

He turned back to his book, leaving them fuming and embarrassed, her plan thoroughly thwarted. He was still laughing to himself when he returned to the tower and you looked up in him at confusion yet he wouldn't tell you what happened, just suggested that you should skip your trip to your sister's next month:

Raphael:

The elegant and opulent atmosphere of the Hells always had an air of temptation and danger. Raphael lounged in his luxurious chamber, a goblet of fine wine in his hand, when your brother approached with a sly smile.

"Raphael, I've heard so much about your… unique talents," he said, his voice smooth and seductive. "Perhaps we could make a special deal, just between us."

Raphael's eyes flickered with amusement and disdain. "Oh? And what could you possibly offer that would interest me?" he asked, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

Your brother moved closer, his intentions clear. "Anything you desire," he whispered, leaning in.

Raphael laughed, a sound both melodious and menacing. He pushed your brother away with a flick of his wrist, sending him sprawling. "You really think I would choose you over your sibling?" he scoffed. "The idea is utterly laughable."

Your brother's face flushed with anger and humiliation. "But I thought—"

"You thought wrong," Raphael interrupted, his tone icy. "My interest lies solely with them. You are nothing but a poor imitation."

With that, Raphael dismissed your brother with a wave of his hand, turning his attention back to his wine, his loyalty to you unshakable.

Hope y'all enjoy this - Seluney xoxo

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hornedstorys · 3 months ago

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Jason Todd x Reader - you are Pregnant and he saves you Part 2

Warnings: Dirt, breeding fetish, Jason has caught baby fever, you feel uncomfortable after giving birth because your body has changed, fear, blood. More Babydaddy Jason!

Synopsis: Jason loves his little family that you gave him, but he notices how uncomfortable you feel in your body and he wants to show you how beautiful you are, meanwhile he is haunted by the thought that you are carrying his children.

It had been a month since you gave birth to your little girl and Jason adored her. You were fortunate that she was really sound asleep and therefore a quiet child. Jason came home to you and the first thing he did was pull you into a big hug, which you gladly accepted. He loved smelling your scent, it made him feel at home and it eased his frazzled nerves.

Then he took his little girl out of the flu and she cooed at him delightedly. A grin was on the man's face as he lay down on the sofa with her on his chest and dozed. You watched her lovingly. It really was a sweet sight and you knew it was good for Jason to get some rest too. He was still a mercenary and was really falling on the road.Later that day, as you were preparing food, the tall man came up behind you and scrutinized your form. There was pure love in his eyes, but he didn't notice how you were lost in thought about how fat your belly looked today. You cut the vegetables and bit your lips.

"Did she fall asleep?" You asked him with a smile and he nodded.

"When does she not sleep," he chuckled and came to your rescue before you could resist.

"I think she gets that from her father. He was always the quiet type too," you mentioned casually and suddenly Jason's hand was gently on your shoulder.

"Are you okay?" He inquired, his beautiful gray eyes looking at you searchingly. He wasn't stupid, he was like a bloodhound who just had a sense that you were unwell. You didn't know what was going on between you and Jason. He had almost moved in with you and he helped out everywhere, even after the pregnancy. He was a really good guy, but neither of you had ever said the three big words, even though deep in your heart you felt so much for him.

After the death of your partner, no man was good enough to take your place as a father, especially not a young woman who was already a mother. And now you still felt uncomfortable with your body. Stretch marks, excess skin and more flab than usual. Of course you knew that this was all normal, but your sex life was dead and it was somehow eating away at your self-confidence and self-esteem. You wanted love, lots of love, sexual love and the feelings for Jason almost drowned you because you just didn't know if he felt the same way. He had never kissed you, never just touched you anywhere, he respected you but he didn't say anything about his feelings.

"I'm fine, Jason," you lied, smiling wider. He looked at you skeptically, but he didn't ask any more questions, but suddenly he came closer to you and you felt the heat on your cheeks.

"You look really beautiful today, by the way," he breathed and your mouth fell open. You felt completely different.

"Oh no, look at me. I haven't showered, there's vomit on my top and I have dark circles under my eyes," your voice broke, you were so ashamed and you felt your eyes start to burn. You inhaled and exhaled deeply and avoided Jason's gaze. Jason tried to say something back, but you avoided him.

"(F/n) needs something to eat," with those words you left quickly and Jason looked after you, snivelling. He could feel that something was bothering you and he tore at his heart, but he thought you were beautiful and that you were a wonderful mother. It made him long for more, he missed your swollen belly that he could stroke, the kicks against his hand and your helplessness.

He loved protecting you and he would kill anyone who got too close or hurt you, the same for your daughter. He would love to say our daughter. He wanted to be a really solid part of your little world and he wanted to be there 24/7. The thought of you carrying his children excited him and at the same time made his heart beat faster. Jason never thought he would fall so much into the role of father, but he did and he fell deep and he fell even deeper for you. Damn, he wished he had the courage to tell you how he really felt. He was so close, he was so close to you and all that was missing was one last push.

That evening you were in your room and wanted to change. You were standing naked in front of the wardrobe, looking for your sleeping clothes, when suddenly the door opened and Jason walked in. He had to go on patrol and wanted to say goodbye to you both, because he might not have time to come by for the next two days.

When he saw you standing there naked, he stopped and his eyes widened as he took in every curve of you. You were beautiful and briefly he caught a glimpse of your breasts, he didn't want to stare, but the sight of you made him weaken. He was already in his full Red Hood uniform and his helmet was now held ironclad in his hand.You gave him a startled look and hid your breasts.

"Jason!?" He turned around immediately, as if you had snapped him out of his trance."I'm sorry. I just wanted to say goodbye," he entegenet you and wouldn't look at you again until you were dressed.

"It's all right, I have to apologize for making you look at that," you blurted out and immediately his head snapped in your direction and anger flooded through him. His look was uncomprehending.

"What are you talking about?" He growled and came towards you, you looked at him with wide eyes as he grabbed you and his face was only a few centimeters away from yours. You could feel his warm breath on your nose and his now storm gray eyes gazed intently into yours.

"You're fucking wonderful and you know it! You're beautiful and strong and damn I-" he broke off when he realized what he was about to say. He quickly pulled you into a tight hug and you wrapped your arms around him, still surprised.

"I'll be back soon," he whispered and gently pressed a kiss against your cheek. Your heart tightened at those words as memories came flooding back.

"Take care Jay," you breathed and he put on his helmet, his white eyes looking to you once more as he playfully gave you a military salute with his index and middle finger.

"I'll be back, (y/n). I promise."

Two days turned into three and Jason didn't come back. You sat anxiously on the sofa and poked your daughter, but she didn't really want a drink. She seemed to sense your anxiety and you swallowed hard. You were afraid that he wouldn't come back, just like your deceased partner. And slowly your fear really turned into panic.

You put the baby in the cradle, sighing, and paced restlessly back and forth in your apartment. You felt really sick.

Suddenly you heard a loud thud in your room and you immediately started moving. You felt nauseous and when you pulled open the door, there was a blood-covered figure lying on the floor.

"Jason!" You shouted and knelt down next to him. He groaned as you turned him onto his back, you gently but firmly removed the mask from his head and tears gathered in your eyes.

"Hey," he breathed and grinned crookedly at you, but you didn't feel like laughing. You carefully helped him up and took him to the smaller bathroom where you got rid of his clothes."Not so fast, aren't we still in the dating phase," he joked, but your cold gaze silenced him and he lowered his head.In just his underwear, he sat shakily on the toilet seat and you cleaned his wounds, then got the sewing kit and sewed them up. It made you shudder, but you had to do it. Carefully, you grabbed his light-colored mop of hair and pushed his face up. Your wet eyes looked into his and he looked at you apologetically.

"At least you kept your promise," you sobbed out and Jason's face screwed up as you threw yourself into his arms. He closed his eyes and hugged you tightly against him, not caring that everything hurt. You were more important.His sweaty forehead lay in the crook of your neck and he could feel your frantic heartbeat, beating like crazy against your ribcage. After a few minutes you disengaged and you helped Jason freshen up. He had cuts and bruises all over. Carefully, you wiped him down with a warm, wet sponge.

"How's (F/n)?" Came out of his mouth as you wiped his face. He almost felt like a child being washed by his mother, but he enjoyed your warm little hands on his bare skin. It gave him goose bumps.

"She's fine, but she was just as restless as I was today, Jason," you puffed, tossing the sponge and rag aside. Your gaze sought his and his gray eyes looked at you apologetically.

It was pretty late. You fed your daughter and took her briefly to Jason who was lying in your bed. His heart blossomed when he saw you with the baby in your arms and you sat down with him and put your arms around him (F/n). It always made her so happy to see Jason and her beady eyes lit up.

"Hello sweetie," he cooed and he had become much more confident with her than at the beginning. He had been afraid he would crush her or drop her, but you trusted him one hundred percent.

"So you two, bedtime," you smiled and took the little girl from him again and put her in the cradle, which was just opposite in the nursery.Exhausted, you fell into bed and Jason looked at you, partly amused and partly worried.

"I can sleep on the couch too. I'm used to it," he grinned and you shook your head.

"You stay here so I can keep an eye on you. With you, I have two kids in this apartment to look after," you paused as the one memory came up.

"But I still owed them something anyway, Jason. Now I've saved you for once," you joke weakly and Jason hums: "And I'm really grateful for that."

His gaze became more thoughtful as he scrutinized you.

"But I can think of a better way for you to return the favor," his gaze was serious, but loving. Your gaze became confused as your brows drew together.

"Take your clothes off"

"Excuse me!?"

You almost slapped him, but he didn't make any facial expressions, he didn't even look at you flirty. You closed your eyes and sighed, then took off your top and your pants. But you quickly covered yourself up.

"I know what a woman looks like," Jason said quietly, his eyes now twinkling with amusement. You blushed.

"That's not the point, Jason," you grumbled, suddenly flipping the covers off your body so he could really see everything except for the spot between your legs. But he wasn't staring at your genitals, but at your stomach and thighs.He hesitated, but carefully stroked over his thighs, up to your soft belly. You watched him with wide eyes.

"It's not nice," you sniffled.

"Bullshit! I'll tell you every day if I have to, but you're beautiful," Jason growled sternly, gently caressing your stomach. The backs of his hands touched the soft skin of your breasts and you closed your eyes, relaxed.

"You look much better than me," came out of your mouth and Jason grimaced, even though it pleased him at the same time that you liked him.

"It's the body of a dead man and murderer (Y/n). He's scarred," he took your hand and let you run it along his T-shaped scar. You stared in awe at the stitched tissue and swallowed hard. This man had suffered so much in his past.Suddenly his sultry hands gently stroked your hips and for a moment you forgot that you were lying naked next to him. Your hand was on the side of his neck and your eyes devoured each other. But Jason didn't want to wait any longer and gently pressed his lips to yours.

You opened your eyes at first, but then you gave in and kissed him back. A longing rose up inside you and he seemed to lose himself too. Because he pressed you closer against his chest and ran his fingers over his broad thighs, exploring. He gently kneaded the flesh and you gasped into his mouth, making him grin. You looked at him sheepishly.

"It's been a long time," you whispered with red cheeks.

"The stupid men who just let you goddess go. But now I'm here to give you the attention you deserve," he growled against your lips, gently stroking the sensitive skin. Now you were the one pressing your lips against his and Jason hummed in pleasure. Your tongue invaded his mouth and you playfully started a little fight that took both your breath away.

Jason now lay down gently between your legs. You could clearly see the big bulge in his underwear and he also noticed the wet spot on your underwear.

"You looked so good when you were pregnant," he cooed, gently stroking your breasts which were glowing with sensitivity. You moaned softly and bit your lips.

"Such a beautiful, swollen belly," he licked his lips as he watched white drops come out of your chest and your cheeks grew even redder. He leaned forward and gently licked the drop of sweet milk from your pebbled nipple.A gasp escaped your mouth and you grabbed his hair to hold on. You liked it far too much.

"You like that, don't you?" He teased, sucking harder on your breast which made you hiss. Your wet pussy was already throbbing and Jason's hard cock pressed against your clitoris.The next moment he ripped your underpants off and gently kneaded every bulge in your thighs. He had long forgotten his pain.

"I've so often imagined what you would look like, swollen with my seed," his eyes darkened with lust and this statement made you hold your breath. Had he just confessed to you that he wanted a child with you?"Jason," you started, but he didn't give you a chance to speak and hungrily he pressed his lips against your wet pussy and you moaned out as he caressed your sensitive bud. It made your legs tremble. His tongue was so warm and wet and you thrust your pelvis hopelessly towards him.

"Tell me what you want (Y/n)," with a smacking sound he broke away from you and looked deep into your eyes. You gasped pleadingly as he broke away from you.

"Do you want me to fill you with my seed?" Slowly, he ran his tongue over your clitoris again, but his gaze remained fixed on you. You moaned, "Yes please, Jason! Fill me, I need you!"

He didn't need to be told twice as he carefully rose up and settled between your legs. You were still sensitive down there after giving birth. But you were so ready to take every inch of this man he had you and there was definitely enough there.You wrapped your legs around his hips and Jason put his warm lips to yours, you could taste yourself and it made you whimper.

Slowly he entered you and you clung to his shoulders. It was unfamiliar, but at the same time it felt so good and intense.As Jason pushed deeper, you both groaned. He stretched you so well and the pain turned into something intoxicating. You thrust your hips towards him and he began to thrust.

But instead of going faster, Jason did it gently but deeply. He rested his forehead against yours and his scent fogged your mind, even without his jacket he still smelled of leather and gunpowder, but there was something else in the air, something metallic.

"You're doing so well, beautiful. Look at you, damn it," he growled and you whimpered. Your breasts bounced along and your belly and thighs bounced too and it only made Jason get harder.

"I can't wait to fuck you until you're carrying my baby," he moaned, his hips slamming harder against your ass. His cock tried to penetrate you even deeper and his thrusts became faster and harder.The room was filled with moans, gasps and the smacking sound of your pussy being stretched to the limit.

"Jason I-," the pressure in your abdomen built up and Jason understood immediately as he could feel you tighten around him. He took his fingers and started stroking your clit, it was just a gentle touch because he wanted to tease me. You gritted your teeth but moved against him more, the pressure in your abdomen kept building and you threw your head back as your orgasm hit you.

"Oh Jason! I love you!" You cried out as the waves of pleasure overwhelmed your body and your words sent jolts of electricity coursing through Jason's body as he buried his seed deep inside you.

Panting and wet with sweat, Jason still lay over you, looking into your eyes. Your embarrassment returned. You were at a loss for words.Panting, your foreheads lay against each other and Jason looked at you hopefully.

"I love you too (y/n)," he panted, kissing you deeply. You melted into the kiss. He kissed every inch of your body, every stretch mark, every dent.

"Do you believe me now that you're beautiful?" He asked, brushing a strand of hair from your face. You nodded, still too dazed to say anything.

"You love me, Jason?" You breathed and softly the mercenary nodded at you.

"I loved you right after I rescued you back then. You gave me a sense of family and love, something I've been missing for a long time. I was afraid to tell you," he confessed and you gently placed your hand against his cheekHe leaned into your touch and closed his eyes. Then he opened them again and there was mischief in his eyes.

"That wasn't a lie, by the way, about 'I'll fuck you until you carry my child,' " he said, his eyes darkening again. You licked your lips and rolled your eyes.

"For now, you're already a father, Jason," you smiled softly at him and his look seemed surprised."Really?" he breathed and you nodded.

"She's not just my daughter, she's yours too, Jason. Ours."

Jason's chest swelled with happiness and love. Like a guard dog, he watched over you, watching you as you pressed against his broad chest. Comfortable and safe in his warmth.

He was so grateful to you for everything and he really wondered what he had done to deserve all this.

#x reader #Jason Todd x Reader #DC #Batman #Red Hood x reader

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wintersongstress · 5 months ago

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A — Affection;

In a touch, in a glance, in a simple gesture, you know how deeply Simon cares for you. He hopes you do, because he can’t always find the words but will swallow past the stones of them if you need to hear it.

He would do anything for you, don’t you know that? You brought out some undiscovered need in him to protect and cherish and provide. If he finds you at home laying down in the dark because you’re feeling unwell, he’ll ask if there’s anything he can get for you in the softest of tones. Closing the curtains, bringing you a glass of water and some ibuprofen, he assures you not to worry about dinner or putting gas in your car for tomorrow, he’ll take care of it. If it’s your period cramps, he’ll get out the heating pad and run to the shop to get your favorite snacks and sweets and won’t take it personally if you snap at him over something trivial. Whatever he can do to make your life easier, he will try his best to think of. That’s the best way Simon knows how to show that he wants to take care of you and prioritizes your wellbeing.

In the realm of physical touch, Simon’s hand, in the beginning of your relationship, was not so guided by certainty and purpose as it would come to be. What did it mean, to hold hands and impart kisses? To have his scars traced and his nose nuzzled by the tip of yours? And when you laid beside him and said his name in the dark like it meant something more? Your soft and flowing affection sent shudders through him each time, and you were so patient and discerning with his bewilderment. Simon came to understand what it was you stirred in him: it was a butterfly trapped inside his chest whenever he was with you. The sunshine and nectar and soft breeze of your tenderness succored his soul and placed him under a foreign spell, and touching you becomes something he cannot help himself to.

He’ll stroke your cheek at times when he finds your face so pretty, he doesn’t know what to do about it. If your hair falls a certain way he’ll reach out and twirl it between his fingers. You’re so beautiful to him, he can’t quite believe you’re real. And that’s what touch comes to mean to him: this is real, I am yours, and you are mine.

#simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #call of duty #ghost x reader #simon riley x female reader #cod #*my writing #everytime i post my writing i feel like i'm going to be boo'ed off stage

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crimsonred-hi · 8 months ago

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Pregnancy—Headcannons

Pairing: Andrew Hozier-Byrne x Reader

• Andrew goes through multiple stages:

—> 1. Happiness

—> 2. Excitement

—> 3. Disbelief, wondering if the test is wrong, is it his.

—> 4. Joy, relief, contentment, he knows he’ll be a good father.

—> 5. Love, Andrew is already attached to his baby and he hasn't even met them yet!

• Andrew is over the moon when he finds out his girlfriend's pregnant. He buys her the best baby stuff, is super supportive. He couldn't be happier.

• He would be the sweetest, most supportive boyfriend and future father ever, and he would be so excited for his newborn to arrive.

• He would be patient, reassuring and gentle, and he would always make sure his partner felt supported, comfortable and loved.

—> Andrew was supportive, encouraging, and loving during your pregnancy. He took the burden of household tasks off you. He made sure you were safe, healthy, and well rested when you felt unwell. He rubbed your back to alleviate aches or helped you when you couldn't keep food down.

—> He was excited for your pregnancy and made sure to make you feel your best during this time. He was also there to support you emotionally, keeping you calm and reassuring you that everything was going to be okay.

• But he struggles watching you got through the symptoms of pregnancy. Watching you be sick, not being able to eat what you want, your fatigue and pains.

• Andrew struggles to watch it. To the point that he decided, soon after you started having morning sickness, that he wound not be in the delivery room.

• The sheer idea of you having a c-section has made him physically sick. Not because he doesn’t want to be there, but because he doesn’t want to stress you out during the experience by stressing himself.

—> he just knows he would pass out.

• And he’s so affectionate.He love eachother dearly. He loves your, cares you, cuddles you, rubs your belly, kissing you, and always makes you. laugh.

___ After the Baby is born & During Recovery___

• Andrew loves your baby, kisses baby, holds baby, cuddles baby, plays with baby, holds their hand, sings to them, feeds them, plays with them, carries baby, cuddles when baby’s crying, and makes baby laugh by being a playful silly father.

• Refuses to let you stay up with the baby, to him you’ve just created the miracle of life. Therefor, he bans you from doing anything that isn’t necessary.

—> Andrew takes care of you, he helps you move around because you aren’t able to. He carries you, picks you up, holds you, makes sure you’re alright. Andrew stays with you, cares for you.

—>Andrew makes sure your is alright, Andrew supports you emotionally, mentally, and physically during your healing period.

—> you want food, he’ll make it: you need a shower, he’ll help: you need to feed the baby, fine but you’ll have to do it under his watchful eye.

• He’s so protective of the baby, he wants to be with the baby and his girlfriend at all times, he cuddles the baby, he wants to hold the baby and care for the baby as much as possible.

—> he’s the kind of guy to do skin to skin with the baby to make them comfortable.

• He just wants his baby to be comfy and happy, he wants to feed the baby, burp the baby, he loves the baby so much.

• He’s just incredible in every way.

• He’s so sweet and attentive.

• Andrew is an attentive father who is deeply invested in his child's development and well-being. He's a patient teacher who patiently guides them through their milestones and encourages their exploration.

• He also sets examples of honesty, compassion, and kindness for his child to follow. Andrew is also protective of his child, making sure they're safe and teaching them how to look out for themselves.

• Andew is a caring and supportive dad who loves his child unconditionally. (He’s honestly the most beautiful person, inside and out)

#andrew hozier byrne #hozier x reader #hozier #the hoziest #hozier my beloved #hozier imagine #unreal unearth #hozier fluff #hozier headcanons #headcanon

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piratecaptainscaptainpirates · 4 months ago

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There's something that makes me so emotional about the truly unconditional love Ed and Stede have for each other. They always just meet each other where they're at, with so much compassion and understanding and empathy.

Just thinking about the way they slot back together in season 2 is so beautiful. Ed's grumpy with Stede at first, but when Stede compliments him, Ed just can't help but believe him. He can't listen to Stede saying nice things to him and imagine that Stede would be saying them disingenuously or to hurt him. And when Stede hears the stories of what Ed did during the Kraken spiral, Stede knows that Ed was deeply, deeply unwell, and he cleans up his cabin with a profound sadness.

They're so gentle with each other. They love sharing things with each other, just chatting about their day, getting advice and help from each other. They're in love, and they're best friends, and they trust each other so deeply and easily, and it shines through every time they're on screen together.

#ofmd #our flag means death

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most-datable-datable-bracket · 9 months ago

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ROUND 3 MATCH 18

Dys propaganda:

“Autistic ecoterrorist king - not canonically autistic afaik but he's one of those characters where it's like come on. This is basically canon. He's deeply weird and very distant from most people but if you get close to him he's ride or die, he's quietly adventurous, he says at one point that he feels like he was born in the wrong species, in the prepubescent stage of the game one of the default openers for approaching him is that he's sitting there sorting rocks for fun. I love his weird emo ass <3”

“Maybe I just have a thing for sad emo boys but I immediately loved dys so so much. kind of an outcast boy for the entire game, he feels like he really does fit in with the rest of the colony kids and is honestly pretty upset about people trying to industrialize/destroy the nature of the planet they've landed on because he thinks its so beautiful and they'd be best to just leave things alone and let nature run its course. has a twin sister who's pretty much the exact opposite of him and they both have a kind of jealousy about what the other has (dys thinks everyone thinks his sister is better than him and that everyone likes her more than they like him and wants to feel cared for the way he thinks she is. she feels she has a lot of expectations on her and wishes for the freedom she believes dys has with no expectations or eyes on him) however you can make them kind of bond if you choose to. if you dont date him and kind of if you do he falls in love with a humanoid alien on the planet that the player can also date and be in a polycule. i really just wanna give this boy a hug because he desperately needs one”

Nightowl propaganda:

"VOTE NIGHTOWL MY MENTALLY UNWELL MOMMY ISSUES FUELLED PUPPYBOY BOYTOY TWINK !!!!!!!!!!! MY TELEKINESIS THROWS EVERYTHING ACROSS THE ROOM"

"HE'S SO SPECIAL HE CALLS YOU A BITCH LIKE YEAH DUDE I'M ALSO MEAN WHEN I'M ANGRY ITS OKAY HE'S STUDYING TO BE AN ARCHITECT HES CUTE AND FUNNY AND ENERGETIC HE LIKES PLAYING WOULD YOU RATHER AND JUST TALKING AND HAVING GAME QUIZZES HES PERFECT AND HES FLAWED AND THAT JUST MAKES HIM EVEN MORE PERFECR INSECURE BBY MY LOVE"

#dys exocolonist #i was a teenage exocolonist #iwatex #nightowl #Blooming Panic #Bloomic #Round 3 #MDDC 2

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whataboutthefish · 2 years ago

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Steve is in love with his alpha, he has the perfect life. He's living the dream, he dotes on his alpha, he keeps a beautiful home and dinner is on the table by 6pm every night.

Everything is just how it's supposed to be.

That is until Steve finds out he's pregnant. He's so excited, he can't wait till his alpha gets home, running up to him with the test in hand and happy tears in his eyes.

But he doesn't get the response he was expecting, instead of dropping to his knees and kissing Steve's still flat stomach, his alpha flies into a rage. He never wanted children, he screams, especially not with him.

Steve feels as if the winds been knocked out of him, he holds a protective arm over his stomach, backs away in fear. Begging for his alpha to change his mind, that surely he doesn't feel that way?

His alpha relents, says he over reacted but as the weeks go by he gets more and more distant until one night he doesn't come home. he's gone for three days before he returns. Steve's been in a panic, his distressed scent fills the house and his alpha coughs and scrunches his nose.

Instead of comfort, Steve is met with his worst nightmare, his alpha breaks their bond and kicks Steve out. he's kind enough to find him a home at the trailer park and give him a couple of grand before officially breaking their bond. Steve manages to keep it together for one whole day, he unpacks his clothes and the couple of personal items his alpha let him keep, before he collapses into his bed.

He has barely any nest, his alpha didn't allow him to take his scent when Steve left. His body aches, he feels sick and sweaty and he can't stop shaking. His stomach cramps and he begins to panic, he can't lose this baby, not after he's lost everything else.

He stays curled up in his bed and prays. Steve doesn't know that his body is sending out pheromones, seeking out the closest available alpha to come and soothe him. His body knows it will lose this baby, going into a mock heat in a bid to find a alpha.

Eddie is drawn to the trailer by the scent, he's full of concern and there is nothing that can stop him from breaking into the trailer.

When Eddie finds Steve, scenting heavily of rejection sickness, pain and most certainly pregnant, Eddie flies into a panic. He runs back to his trailer, gathering an arm full of blankets and pillows from his nest and bringing them back to Steve. The strange hint of heat in Steve's scent doesn't call to Eddie, there is no way he'd have sex with a stranger, especially when they are so clearly unwell.

Eddie doesn't even know this omega's name, so he does the only thing he can think to do and surrounds Steve with his nesting materials deeply saturated with his scent then curls up behind Steve and holds him.

Eddie tells Steve who he is, explains he has no need to worry that Eddie will only hold him and scent him, that he promises to get Steve through this.

Eddie stays with Steve for 5 days, during this time Steve isn't able to speak. Eddie manages to get Steve to eat and drink but it's clear the omega is working on instinct alone as his body and mind work through the rejection.

Wayne found Eddie after the first night he didn't come home. He curls up with Steve when Eddie needs a break, but Eddie is never gone long. A strong trauma bond has taken hold of him and the ache when he's not at Steve's side hurts.

On the 6th day Steve finally wakes. He feels spent, but the aches and cramps that had consume him were gone and now and he's surrounded in the most amazing scent.

There's a noise from the kitchen that catches Steve's attention, and then an alpha walks into his room. Eddie swears and almost drops his coffee.

Steve pulls the blanket up to his chin, eyes wide and heart rabbiting in his chest until he realises the scent on the blanket is the same as the scent pouring off this alpha.

Steve knows in his core that this alpha saved his life and the life of his child. They spend the day talking, getting to know one another. Eddie continues to hold Steve when he sobs as he tells his story. Steve clings to Eddie when he can't find the words to thank him.

When the trauma bond fades they find true attraction. As Steve's pregnancy progresses so does their relationship. Eddie moves in a week before Steve gives birth. With Wayne and Eddie by his side for the birth of their baby girl. Steve finds his truly perfect life

#stranger things #steddie #steddie fic #Steve harrington #eddie munson #omega steve harrington #alpha eddie munson #omegaverse #alpha/beta/omega #rejection sickness #pregnant steve

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soleilnomoon · 1 year ago

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hey miss kaia 😼 I wasn’t sure if I should message you or send it this way butttt I’d love a strawberry-mango mai tai (crocodile or shanks) w/ songs 12, 15, and 23 from the playlist 👩🏾‍💻

hiiiii bb 🥰️ ty for requesting! i am so so sorry this took so long, but it’s here at last. also this was my first time writing crocodile, so i was v excited and wrote more than necessary but lbr i’m a long-winded mfer ok, that’s just how it is there’s no cure unfortunately; anyway i like how it turned out and if i kept writing we’d be here forever ପ(๑•ᴗ•๑)ଓ ♡

2.1k words (don’t look at me), fem reader, nsfw, 18+ mdni; fluff if you count him not choking her as fluff & smut (and angst that u didn’t ask for but i gave it to u bc i’m unwell like that 😊; feat. post-time skip crocodile in denial (he’s king of it clearly), reader who is (rightfully) in her feelings abt everything, smoking, established relationship, exes 2 lovers bc that’s my jam, a lil bit of miscommunication, crocodile is bad at emotions and reader is too emotional — they’re perfect for each other obvy — rough sex, is it considered knife play if he has a hook (asking 4 a friend), a lot of kissing (hello romance), probably other stuff but idr. crocodile comes w. his own damn warning tbqh. reader sippin that clown girl juice like a champ, i’m proud <3

(if u see spelling/grammar mistakes no u didn’t 💕)

it’s late at night when he arrives at your doorstep; you’re in the middle of flipping through a magazine, the ceiling fan silent and slow, the heat a little more than tolerable as you sip a cool drink. you have no intention of entertaining anyone, but when you recognize the heaviness behind the loud knocks, you make an exception.

of course, you do, there’s no other choice but to do so.

sir crocodile is a man that takes, and takes, and takes without remorse; there’s an insatiable greed — hunger, rather — that he can’t seem to satisfy. or maybe it’s that he’s been denying himself for years and it’s finally become too much for him. a small, quiet buzz infiltrates your body when you yank open the door. you half expect to find someone else there, so you stare openly, disbelief and shock holding you in place.

he peers down at you when you stand there and don’t bother to invite him inside. he knows his presence is probably more than you can handle, but he’s a selfish man and his time is very limited right now. with a subtle nod of his head, almost as if he’s telling — no, commanding — you to let him in; he’s always been like that, wordless commands that he expects to be followed without question.

if you had more sense, you’d slam the door in his face. but sadly, you don’t.

you try not to appear too affected, but as crocodile walks inside, dark eyes taking a sweeping glance around your modest living space, you suddenly remember how to speak.

“h-how did you find me?” your voice is much too soft and timid, something he clicks his tongue at, annoyance slightly bubbling underneath his skin. maybe it’s because he hasn’t seen you in so long, or maybe it’s because he’s much too taken by your beauty — something he tried to forget but was wholly unsuccessful.

he doesn’t spare you another glance as he hangs up his coat, doesn’t bother asking for permission before he rummages through the cabinets in your kitchen to pour himself a drink, and doesn’t think anything of his overly familiar actions in a home that doesn’t belong to him when he makes himself comfortable on one of the plush armchairs in the living room.

you scurry after him, steps soft and hurried, the smoke from his cigar wafting towards you the closer you get. he tilts his head back and exhales deeply, eyes closed as he blows smoke above him — a heady, intoxicating scent that triggers memories of the nights you spent with him before.

not that it matters, but crocodile’s nerves got the best of him before he arrived; he hasn’t seen you in two and a half years, and he always wondered if someone finally snatched you up. he told himself, a long time ago, that he would wreck whatever relationship you found yourself in anyway, but the uncertainty still lingered.

do you still care for him like you claimed you always would?

it’s a question he refuses to ask you because he’s convinced that the answer will ruin his plans no matter what your response is.

when you finally snap out of that momentary stupor, you stand in front of him, eyes glossy, as if you’re holding back years’ worth of tears. but somehow, you both fall back into the same routine you swore you’d never go back to — you straddle his lap, shorts riding up your plush thighs, his golden hook cold as he uses it to lift your chin up.

you remind yourself to keep focused, to not fall for his charm again. you don’t tell him that you’ve stayed single this whole time, mostly because everyone who came into your life after him didn’t compare.

“i hate the smell of smoke,” you declare boldly, voice strained, and maybe a little needy — even though you closely press yourself to him, even though you’re shamelessly rubbing yourself against him with slow, deliberate rolls of your hips. an inescapable, irritating heat passes through him, threatening to burn him alive; already his cock gets stiff when you move on him like that. if he had a bit more sense in him, he’d just leave right now.

but old habits die hard, and for some reason, your presence alone throws him off completely.

in a good way. even though he claims otherwise.

he reminds himself that he’s only here to talk as he runs his large hand along your thigh, admiring the smoothness of your skin — the sensation oddly calming to him. the feel of his rings along the back of your thigh triggers a vivid memory that makes you inhale sharply — you remember that the last time you saw him, you were on your knees and gagging on his cock. that night he fucked you like he knew he’d never see you again; you remember how you felt like melting into him every time he buried his cock deeply in your cunt.

you want to hate him all over and never think about him again.

except you can’t, can you?

there’s a brief pause before he takes another drag from his cigar; and when he lets the silence hang for longer than necessary, you find it hard to breathe.

“and i hate liars,” crocodile says finally, conveniently forgetting that he’s a notorious liar himself. you blush and turn your face at the hidden meaning behind his words — a poor attempt to deny it — but when you look back at him, he blows smoke above your head and fixes you with a pointed look.

an absurd thought occurs, making you curl your fingers as you tug on his shirt and finally question his reappearance. jealousy coils itself tightly around your legs, making your movements sluggish and ineffective. unbecoming, utterly childish, and unavoidable — but you know he won’t listen to that sort of rhetoric. not after being away from you for so long.

you lick your lips and muster enough courage to say, “i wrote to you.” several times, in fact. you figured he was either dead or didn’t want to speak to you. a part of him wants to ask if you’re serious, but from your demure demeanor, he already knows the answer.

crocodile lets out a humorless, pitying laugh.

“it must be nice to live in delusion,” he says bitterly. you look at him, confusion evident in the way you press your lips together as your brows slope down slowly — so he just sighs, defeated by your genuine naivety that he finds terribly charming. when he drags the curve of his golden hook along your jaw, your starts beating faster than necessary, the noise so loud you can barely think straight.

he knows that when he talks to you, he has to… mind how he phrases things, and while it annoys him, he does it anyway. “do you think impel down just allows former warlords the luxury of personal mail?” it’s a rhetorical question, but you shake your head no anyway, teeth sinking into your bottom lip as you grab onto his shirt again.

guilt has a nasty habit of making him more considerate than he’d care to be, especially if that guilt comes from you. it has him putting out his cigar and tossing it onto the floor; he’s not sure who kisses who first, but his lips slant against yours and move with familiarity.

your soft whimpers are a honeyed, melodic experience; they wrap around him possessively, driving him to tear through your clothes with his hook, shredding the fabric into large, unusable pieces that languidly slide off your body. a flush settles on your skin, making you feel lightheaded — each kiss more electrifying than the last as he licks inside of your mouth, tongue stroking against yours hotly.

crocodile pulls away suddenly, already feeling like the control he’s kept is practically nonexistent because your mouth is much sweeter than he remembers. your fingers tremble slightly and a breathy moan tumbles out of you when he slaps your ass hard.

the impact is a surprise — one that has you whine pitifully, arousal dripping from your slit in a way that should be embarrassing, but you’re too far gone to care. a lust-induced haze circles around him, nearly clouding his vision as you unbutton his shirt, fingers roaming against his stomach, exploring the dips and grooves between his abs. your touch is much too gentle for a man like him; he knows you deserve better, but he’s too selfish to tell you that. his cock is stiff and heavy in his pants; you relieve that ache as soon as you tug his zipper down and wrap your soft hands around him.

he watches you, amused at your focus and determination when you stroke him faster; and while he’d like to take his time with you, he doesn’t have that luxury tonight. he grabs onto your wrist, halting your movements quickly before biting your lower lip and kissing you greedily; it’s all-consuming, scalding, and possessive.

you should ask him why he’s kissing you like that when he has no intention of staying, but you know it would be an unfair question given his circumstances.

still, your curiosity eats you alive, although not for long.

he lifts you with ease and you sink down onto his thick cock, pussy tight and warm. part of what kept him sane while he was in prison was thinking of you and how much he missed being with you like this — another truth he refuses to reveal, deciding to suffer through the consequences of another failed confession on his part.

you scratch at the skin on the back of his neck the moment he bucks his hips against yours, burying most of his cock inside of you. his thrusts are quick and brutal; you do your best to match his movements, moaning loudly as he wraps an arm around you. he kisses down the length of your neck, teeth grazing your skin roughly as he bites and sucks on your skin harshly. you know there’ll be bruises and marks in the morning, but you don’t care.

all you care about is enjoying this moment with him, one that you’ll commit to memory forever.

his name comes out of your mouth sweetly, like a rhythmic and lyrical poem you crafted for him specifically. he shouldn’t care about any of that, but he can’t stop himself; and maybe he’s just tired of denying it. he tells himself that when he fucks you harder, breasts bouncing and rubbing against his hard chest; he tells himself that when he angles his hips, thrusts frenzied and powerful.

sweat glides down your skin and the heat threatens to suffocate you, both of you are panting and moaning in between kisses. you doubt your poor little heart can take much more of this, but you power through anyway. and maybe it’s because you’re tugging on his hair roughly, almost impatiently, but he takes that as a challenge, holding you steady as his cock bullies into your wet cunt. between the lewd, squelching sounds coming from your pussy and the way he simply can’t stop kissing you — like there’s a thirst he can’t seem to quench, no matter how many times he fucks you — a warmth spreads through your chest.

unbeknownst to you, though, he’s going through something similar; he realizes, belatedly, that he might not be able to let you go after this. impossible thoughts pummel through his mind, ones that he desperately tries to shove aside. intimacy and vulnerability are deadly, in his opinion, but he decides to make an exception for you — and only you.

you cum unexpectedly, hips bucking against his wildly, pussy clenching around his thick girth without remorse. you actually feel your heart skip a beat, like you’re in some romance novel, when he calls out your name — his own orgasm finding him shortly after, thrusts slowing, his cum thick and hot as it spills inside of you.

your legs turn to jelly, making it impossible to move right away, so you slump against him weakly and take deep breaths to calm yourself. he closes his eyes briefly and runs his hand up and down your back; here’s another opportune moment to say something, to say anything, but he swallows back the words, instead opting to kiss your forehead softly.

“you’re an impossible man,” you say with a sigh, blinking as you look up at him; he raises a brow at that, but doesn’t offer a rebuttal. “don’t break my heart.” you jab a finger at his chest, but your features soften when he chuckles at your demand.

another long silence follows, before crocodile speaks again, voice low, but certain as he says, “alright, i won’t.”

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under-cotton-and-calicos · 2 years ago

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Golden

Male Naga x AFAB Reader

AN: This started out as a horny concept but it turned out a little angsty. I feel like with this setup and oneshot, I haven’t done Isil justice ;-; Also, can you tell that new Hozier EP is influencing my brain chemicals.

Tags: light angst, emotional hurt/comfort, descriptions of injury, established relationship, relationship problems, blindfolded sex, oral sex, vaginal penetration, non-human genitalia, fluff

Word count: 3.1k

For the past few weeks, your lover has been exceptionally- no, overly cautious around you.

Isil wears a thick, opaque strip of black fabric around his head to cover his eyes. Although it obscures his vision, he’s able to move without much impediment thanks to the rest of his keen senses. He has made it a point to wear it whenever you’re around, just in case.

It just so happened that one day, you’d found him napping close to the river rocks beside his home. It was a beautiful sight- his emerald green scales iridescent under the sun, his body stretched comfortably in a pool of light with an arm thrown under his head. More than that, it was the first time you had seen his eyes, closed of course, but you could make out their shape. Wrinkles you had never seen before in their corners, and his lashes, thick and dark against his cheeks.

You should have turned around before calling him. Instead, you had continued walking towards his napping spot, breaking a twig underfoot with a loud snap, waking the naga who instinctively jolted up and set his gaze dead on you.

What stood out the most to you in that moment was the colour of his eyes. Isil had told you that they were yellow before, but he failed to convey to you their depth and richness. Gold was what they were, not yellow, you remember thinking dimly before your limbs seized painfully and a foreign emotion that you had never envisioned yourself feeling in his presence overtook you. As you toppled to the ground you realised it was terror.

You remember hearing a heart wrenching cry. Then Isil by your side, hand over your eyes to block the sunlight from getting into them. He carried your stiff body into his home and administered an antidote to you, weeping and begging while your limbs gradually regained mobility.

Thankfully, no long term damage was done. You were walking and talking as usual by the evening, but Isil was affected deeply. You couldn’t blame him. If your roles were reversed you, too, would feel awful even though it was not Isil’s fault, a point you had reminded him of over and over again. The two of you had talked extensively in the wake of the incident- him asking you if you ever felt unwell, if you feared him, if you hated him. You, reassuring him, promising him that yes, you’re perfectly fine, and no, you would never be.

Afterwards, you expected things to carry on as they did. You love him with all of your heart after all, as you know he does for you, so those sort of things would bear little weight in your relationship. But Isil has been on eggshells around you ever since. He’s just as doting and affectionate as he always is, but now he handles you like you’re porcelain. Simple things like cleaning or going outside for a walk, he shoos you away from the task and fusses about you. Even lovemaking, once vigorous and passionate, became a painfully slow and hesitant thing.

You were sure that these things would fade away with time as he grew desensitised to caution. But you soon noticed that Isil began to carry himself differently around you. He would be rigid when you faced him, a hand subconsciously covering his face even with his blindfold on. On occasion, he would have a wretched expression on his face, no doubt recalling the events from that day. Despite it all, he would put on a happy facade, his usual gentle smile and soft words. This, you could not take.

One day, you approach him outside of his home. It’s close to night and he’s sitting on his pile of coils, whittling away at a piece of wood, the flickering light of the bonfire casting shadows over his handsome face. He’s wearing his blindfold, using his touch to feel the thickness and shape of his work. It sends a pang of hurt through your chest. Now he doesn’t even dare to take it off.

“Love.” He says softly, long since heard your footsteps on the pebbles.

“Hello, Isil.” Your curt greeting doesn’t escape his notice and he quickly sets aside the wood and his carving knife.

“What is it? Come and sit here, love.” He motions towards his coils, but you take a seat on the log facing him instead. The frustration in you dissipates a little when you see the smile fall from his face. You need to remember that this has been hard on him.

“Could we have a chat?” You say as gently as possible.

“Of course.” There’s an edge of uncertainty in his voice, yet he sits up and gives you his full attention. After a bout of silence, struggling to think of how to begin this conversation even though you’d run it through your mind countless times, you finally land on something.

“Lately, you’ve been acting strangely around me. And I have to ask if it’s because of what happened.”

With his blindfold, it could be hard to read him. But there are always subtle visual cues that you’ve picked up in your time together. The small pinch of his brows when he’s disturbed, the quirk in his lips when he’s happy. Though you have never needed them much, because Isil is honest. Isil is genuine and wears his heart on his sleeve. He is soft-hearted, perhaps too much, which is why the two of you have become caught up in this predicament.

“It’s nothing, I assure you.”

“Is it really? Isil?” You’re sad because you know it’s not the truth. “I can see it. In your mannerisms, the way you treat me, and I’m worried about you. Have you been wearing your blindfold all day?”

He doesn’t need to answer. The way he flinches tells you all you need to know.

“This…it’s not healthy, Isil. So tell me, please, is it because you’ve been carrying something from that day? If so, we can talk-”

“No! No, it’s not.”

“Then? What is it?”

You bite back the urge to say what’s on your mind, to label what he’s feeling. A tense few seconds amplify the silence between the two of you. You can tell that he’s distraught, the end of his tail is weaving through the air. Slowly, you get up and ease yourself onto him. For the first time in a long while, he holds you firmly within his arms, as if your weight anchors him to the moment. If anything, it’s a comfort for the both of you. You wait patiently.

“I feel guilty.” His voice is meek, barely a murmur. “There’s nothing that I can do to remedy what I did. I hurt you.”

A part of you had expected this. He had always prided himself on never turning his power onto humans, and put deliberate effort into concealing his eyes, living far away from cities or even small towns. So to hurt one, his beloved no less, must have been especially egregious.

“I understand that you feel so, Isil. But must you torment yourself, deny yourself your vision? You know I wouldn't want that."

He’s silent, but there’s the seed of understanding within him. You cup his cheek in your hand and find that it's damp. Oh, it pains you to see him this way, but at least you’ve managed to have him talking.

“Let’s move inside.” You wipe the tears from his face and take his hand, moving together past the threshold. After taking off your shoes you climb into his nest, voluminous piles of pillows and blankets to keep him warm through the night. He slithers wordlessly in and you pull him close.

“I wish that my eyes weren’t the way that they are.” His face is tucked against your chest but you can hear the pout in his voice, like a petulant child.

“Come now, that’s unreasonable.”

You can feel that he’s become relaxed, his muscles are loose, the tension in his body dissolved. It must have sapped a lot of his energy, and brought him relief.

“Is there anything I can do to help you feel better?”

“ I should be the one-” He sighs against your neck. “I think…I need to do something. But what would be enough?”

You bring his face up to meet yours, kissing him long and deep. He starts slow and melts into it, pressing into you with greater fervour, a hand tracing your jaw, fingers feeling the flutter of your heartbeat in your neck. As you stroke his hair an idea comes to you. Something that could kill two birds with one stone, so to speak.

He tilts his head, puzzled, when you pull away from him and dig through a ball of cloth beside his nest. Long strips of inky dark fabric. Sitting before him, you wind the strip several times over your eyes and secure it with a double knot behind your head. Then you blindly feel around for his arm to guide his hand to you, his fingers tracing the cotton over your eyes.

“What…”

“You know how well these things cover your eyes,” indeed, you can’t make out anything behind them, “so take off your blindfold.”

Even though he doesn’t give you a reply right away, you can tell that Isil is resistant to the idea. A thousand churning anxieties no doubt plague his mind.

“I have faith in you, Isil."

He reaches to the back of your head and determines that the doubleknot is secure enough. You can hear the sound of fabric being untied, like sand running through fingers, soft and sibilant. It's dim in his nest so his eyes don't need to adjust much.

It's not the first time that both of you have done something like this, though it had been a long time ago, when you simply closed your eyes and allowed him to take a look at your face. You wonder what he looks like, so you map your hands up from his sides to his face. His eyelids are a little puffy from crying, nose angular, lips plush. You laugh, amazed by how you can envision him even without sight.

"I'm going to open them." You thought he already had. You drop your hands onto your lap.

And you can feel it. The weight of his gaze on you. It’s like a tingling beneath the surface of your skin and a shiver passes through you. You try to piece together what his expression would be in your mind, with his golden eyes taking you in. The silence makes you a little self-conscious and you shuffle around a bit.

“A goddess has made her way into my nest.” There’s a lilt of earnest humour in his voice which makes you smile and blush. He pushes away hair covering your face, tracing your cheeks with his fingers. “We must do this more often.”

“And if you want to…” you unbutton your shirt, exposing yourself to him, “you can do this, and it’ll be enough.”

Again, he’s quiet. Is this what he feels like all the time? Not knowing his expression is torturous, even more so because you don’t have the strong senses of a naga.

“Isil? If you don’t want to, it's ok.”

“No, no I want to.” He sounds embarrassed, a little breathy, like how he usually does when he’s excited. Isil helps you to undress. He’s taking his time, no doubt drinking in the sight of you bare. His breath tickles your neck, the feeling of his lips on your skin and the skillful nip of his teeth is sharp. Your lack of sight allows you to concentrate on the intense physical stimulation, anticipating where he’s going and what he’s going to do next through his trailing kisses. But it is never overwhelming, as he is deliberate and patient with every part of your body, worshipping them thoroughly before moving on to more delightful, untouched skin.

Like this you feel vulnerable and at his mercy, under the weight of his eyes pinning you to the bedding. You flinch when he licks a stripe between your chest.

“Sorry, sorry,” he rubs your sides, fingers squeezing soft flesh, “was that too sudden?”

“N-No..keep going please.”

He obliges, cupping your breast and using his forked tongue to tease your nipple, pebbling quickly under his touch. You’re unable to hold back your moans, the pleasure so much more concentrated and unexpected. While you would usually love for Isil to spend hours teasing you, there’s an unbearable urgency and excitement brewing in your chest, so you guide him down to your pussy, already slick for him. He peppers kisses and bites along your inner thighs and the throbbing between your legs urges you to groan at him.

“Come on, Isil, hurry.”

“I got caught up in you.” His tone is joyful, he's elated to see you like this for the first time. “But I won’t keep you waiting, love. Your word is law.”

He works you with his deft fingers, curling his tongue around your clit. You nudge him forward, hooking your heel around his neck which he loves. A delighted moan slips from his mouth and he presses his mouth flush against your crotch. All the while, you can feel his eyes transfixed on you, watching you shiver and twitch until you come undone. Isil gives you just a moment of reprieve before he continues, fingers curling inside of you while he sucks on your bundle of nerves.

“Isil!” You gasp, hand flying down to grab his silky hair, but the motion only seems to fuel him more than deter him.

“Mm, pull harder.”

You grab a fistful of hair at the nape of his neck, and you can feel a shiver roll through his body. He devours you, like a starving man with a feast laid out before him for the first time, finally taking in the full pleasures of sex. He could feel your soft body underneath his, hear your moans and watch the way you move, the indescribable allure of your bare skin and curves and expressions that touch could not convey.

“Fuck…” You’re surprised to hear him curse, the word on his tongue sounds hungry, feral.

Your second climax has you seeing stars behind the dark canvas of the blindfold, body curling in on itself and thighs squeezing around his head. Isil adores having his face shoved between your legs, your desire for him and how good he makes you feel articulated through the bind of your limbs. He’s giddy with exhilaration, taking his eyes off of you for just one moment to savour the softness of your thighs. When you part your legs, he pulls away from you to lick your slick from his chin, clouded mind urging him to eat you out again. His cocks are already free from their sheath, hard and leaking precum. He’s had to resist the urge to touch himself, otherwise he would be spent before getting the chance to be inside you.

“Are you alright, darling?” He asks you, reaching over to give you a kiss. You’re a little dazed, having two intense orgasms in a row leaving you quite speechless. For a while, you focus on the taste of musk on his lips.

“Very good,” you sigh, feeling around blindly until his hand grasps onto yours, “I want you inside of me now, please.”

Isil helps you to sit up, guiding you over his torso. Your hands follow where his skin melds into scales, finding his two cocks already erect and wet. You line up the lower, slightly bigger one to your hole, easing yourself onto his bulbous tip. As always, the stretch around him is divine, he fills you so well, like a craving fulfilled.

“Wait a second.” He hisses, the sight of your joining and the feeling of your pussy wrapped around his cock is almost too overwhelming, and he doesn't want to cum just yet. You wait until he calls your name, tender, and you lift yourself and thrust down onto him, the drag of his textured shaft against your walls makes your strained legs weak.

“I don’t think I can…” He grabs ahold of your forearms, snapping his hips up to stuff you full of him again. The motion tears a strangled gasp from your throat, he bottoms out inside of you, groaning as he slams you down on his cock and thrusts up sloppily to meet you. He can’t get enough you, a part of him wants nothing more than to hold you like this and use you, so hungry to feel you tight around him and to see you unravel, but he shouldn’t, he-

“More.” You groan, hands grasping onto his broad shoulders for stability. “Just like that, don’t stop.”

Isil’s mind goes blank. Hearing your pretty voice like that is hardly fair, he thinks. Wordlessly, he obliges, holding your hips steady as he thrust into you. With the blindfold, you can feel every bump, every vein on his cock rubbing deliciously against your walls, and you’re reduced to making pitiable whines. Even in this position, he manipulates your body with ease, and the thought sends another gush of slick down his cock. The steady work of his strong hips against yours builds your pleasure quickly, your core throbbing and squeezing around him more and more until you careen delightfully out of control. You cum with a cry, slumping over his chest.

Isil quickens his pace, helping you ride out your orgasm whilst intent on chasing his. He studies your face, the little frown between your brows, the shape your mouth makes when he grinds against the spot where you’re so sensitive. His long tongue snakes its way into your mouth, tangling with yours, breath and sweat mingling.

With a grunt he comes, spilling thick, hot seed inside of you before his second cock splatters cum on both of your bellies. Isil’s hips tremble, the heady rush of liquid over his cock milking a few more spurts of cum until he’s spent, panting and boneless underneath you. You groan when he pulls out, seed and slick making a mess of the sheets. Tomorrow, he’d have to clean them up.

For a long while, he holds you against his chest, the two of you taking in the warmth and fuzziness of the afterglow.

“Thank you.” He breathes, rubbing your lower back where he’s sure you’re sore. “Thank you for this, and for everything.”

“It’s no problem, love.” You sigh, sated and happy.

As the two of you drift off, your pleasant weight on his chest, you think that as much as Isil is harsh on himself, he’s always done his best.

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