#precious moments jewellery

[dolcevalentinaofficial]

Celebrate Milestones with Personalised Engraved Baby Bracelets — A Timeless Keepsake

Welcome to the world of timeless treasures for your little ones! Personalised baby jewellery, particularly engraved baby bracelets, offers a unique and heartfelt way to celebrate the precious moments of your baby’s early years. In this article, we’ll delve into the charm of personalised baby jewellery and explore why engraved baby bracelets make for a perfect keepsake.

The Significance of Personalised Baby Jewellery:

In the delightful journey of parenthood, finding meaningful ways to celebrate each milestone becomes essential. Personalised baby jewellery goes beyond being just adornments; they are expressions of love and individuality. From birthstone pendants to customised name bracelets, these pieces carry sentimental value that lasts a lifetime.

Capturing Memories with Engraved Baby Bracelets:

Engraved baby bracelets elevate personalisation to a new level, creating a lasting memory in a tangible form. Whether it’s your baby’s name, birthdate, or a special message, the fine art of engraving transforms a simple bracelet into a cherished memento. These delicate pieces not only adorn your baby but also encapsulate the uniqueness of their early years.

Quality Craftsmanship and Materials Matter:

When it comes to personalised baby jewellery, quality craftsmanship and materials are paramount. Opt for bracelets crafted from durable materials like sterling silver or gold for longevity and safety. The meticulous attention to detail in the engraving process ensures a clear and enduring impression, making the jewellery both beautiful and safe for your little one.

Conclusion:

As you explore the world of personalised baby jewellery, consider the enduring charm of engraved baby bracelets. These timeless keepsakes not only adorn your baby with elegance but also capture the essence of their earliest moments.

[euphoricfilter]

more silent love:

pairing: jungkook x reader

genre: fluff || non-idol au

summary: jungkook’s book of silent love

tags/ warnings: more fluff, they’re in love it’s kinda sickening, more silent ways to say i love you. i am once again sleepy and thinking of the cute kinda love

notes: part two of this fic, but can be read as a standalone :D

where you can find all my other work!!

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆.

The list of silent love is a forever growing one. 

A small notebook sits on the kitchen table, one you had never bothered to pick up. Though Jungkook likes to spend quiet evenings alone, handwriting far from legible as he scribbles down each of these precious moments.

Memories set in stone as the ink seeps into flimsy paper; perfect, beautiful, love tucked between pages like his own little secret. 

As of late, the both of you spend Sunday afternoons learning how to bake bread. A new type of loaf every week, flour clinging to clothes and smiles tugging at both your lips. It had become your own personal mission to never buy bread again, taking hours out the afternoon, simply basking in the company of one another as you learn something new. 

He finds himself associating the smell of fresh bread to you. Quirk of a smile tugging at his cheeks as he walks past bakeries, fleeting memory of you in the forefront of his mind. A permanent home you've burrowed.

Jungkook, of course, likes to make you sandwiches with your homemade bread. Some mornings waking up, quietly slipping out of bed before you wake to pack you lunch, sweet little note slipped into your bag before he hears your footsteps patter out the bedroom, sluggish as you wake up. 

And on those mornings your patience wears a little too thin, the world a little too much for you to take so early in the day; Jungkook will make sure to sit you down in front of the vanity. Where he detangles your hair ever so gently. Careful as he helps you put your earrings in– he’d gotten quite good over time, learning how to match your jewellery to what you were wearing. Observant in all your favorite pieces that he knew he could never go wrong with. 

Every night as he showers, you sit yourself up on the kitchen counter, reaching for Jungkook’s favorite herbal teas. And every night, as he dries his hair, slinking into the kitchen, there will always be a tea there waiting for him.

He wonders how you’d learnt to time it perfectly. Knowing when to pour the hot water with just enough time before he gets out of the shower where the temperature is perfect. So he can easily slip under a blanket with you, your cold feet warmed up between his thighs as he sips sleepy tea and you doze off beside him. 

He’d learnt you loved when he made you heart-shaped pancakes. And as much as he always eyes the cute little pancake pans online, there will always be something slightly more rewarding about his own hand-crafted hearts that have you giggling into his mouth– lips syrup sticky and sweet. That slight effort more just to see you smile forever lighting up his life. 

He likes to watch you smile as you re-read your favourite books. Where he’d taken time out of his lunch breaks to respond to all the annotations you’d made on your first read through.

He’d glance up at you from his phone as the pen glides across the page, your own mind conjuring up replies to his questions and comments. Like that in itself was its own love language. Silent words slipped between pages of stories that aren't your own, words that only the two of you will ever see. A glimpse into your mind and in return a peek into his.

Every time he is the cause of your smile, his chest goes warm and his heart feels fluttery and light. So gooey warm and raw and lovely and so many words, so many thoughts and feelings all at once he will never be able to truly explain it in words. And maybe that’s why he likes to write down all the precious moments you share. Because that is love. The epitome of love in every sense of the word and it's meaning and yet, it's more than that.

It is your shared love in words without fancy vocabulary and poems and unheard confessions of adoration that will never leave the corners of his mind. Simply unreadable gibberish to hold each of these moments in time, cradled against his beating heart, so that even when the both of you leave this world, part of your love will live forever between the pages of that book. 

Because that's what your love is. An eternal thing that will dance between the stars after death and kiss the both of you in your graves as you blossom into new life. Sure to meet one another again no matter where you end up.

You are Jungkook's forever, even if that means he has to scour the earth to find that little notebook, to relive those memories and learn to love you the right way again.

[melodic-haze]

Arlecchino with a dom filthy rich reader. Reader showers her with lots of gifts on a daily basis. Jewelry, clothes, you name it. Reader would buy it all for her. Arlecchino is spoiled rotten by reader. Arlecchino would always say how reader doesn't need to give her gifts everyday. She finds it unnecessary but the way Arlecchino would wear those expensive outfits and jewelry as Reader fucks her says otherwise.

[Sorry for my bad English]

☆ — DEMO TRACK: sub!Arlecchino x dom!afab!Reader

☆ — TYPE: NSFW

☆ — CONTENT WARNINGS: Reader with a strap

☆ — NOTES: NOOO DON'T BE SORRY DUDE❗️❗️ It's easy to understand and it got the point across, this is actually pretty good english :333 gonna tell you rn it's so much better than the english from people where I'm at 😭 actually atrocious

Arlecchino would ABSOLUTELY try and refuse your gifts at first, saying that she has no need for such material things when she already has you :333 (could not be my ass I'm so money-oriented it's so bad LMAOOO)

You have money to burn though—you can so easily buy your lover whatever she may want without needing to look at the price!!! You wanna spoil this woman in a way that she had never been spoiled before, so you pay attention to her likes and dislikes, take notes on her preferences, buy things that link with your observations and/or remind you of her

Eventually though Arlecchino would come to accept that buying her things, especially when they're so expensive, is one of the many ways that you show love. Far be it for her to reject your gifts when you've taken the time to pick them out with her in mind, even if yeah she says it's unnecessary. If it's coming from you then why would she refuse???

I think she'd initially like. Not wear them though 😞 not bc she's ungrateful, but bc she personally thinks whatever you've bought her doesn't suit her unless it's something practical. This ESPECIALLY applies to jewellery bc like. It's. An accessory. She doesn't really need it in her life, does she???? But she warms up to it :33333

The jingle of the precious necklace around her slender neck definitely helps with convincing that perhaps such gifts were okay.

It was a custom-made gift crafted using the finest metals, notably the highest-quality starsilver one could find in Dragonspine's unstable landscape. Perhaps you could have bought something much more.. easily produced such as gold, but you didn't—couldn't—settle for less when it came to the prime target of your bountiful affection and the person who was in need of true love.

Though you admit, it wasn't because of the item's worth that had you wanting for a custom gift for your paramour, no. Rather, your thoughts had often wandered to the crafted image of a red glow illuminating pale skin, along with how beautiful a sight it must be.

And when you see the magical jewels reflect its crimson light on Arlecchino's naked skin, when the chains clink quietly as the pendant bounces on top of her chest, you pride yourself in being right as you smirk and continue to fuck her with your faux appendage.

Your hand went to graze her neck, fingers trailing down as you slowed your efforts. It would have been nice to overwhelm her, to fill her over and over until she forgot herself, but you adored the view you were blessed with right this very moment. Despite how formidable this woman was, you still managed to leave her grasping for breath, glistening chest heaving as her necklace followed suit.

Such a thought itself had prompted you to reach for the camera on the bedside table before taking a quick picture. She would often question your want to capture her visage in such an unruly state but really, you can't help it!

After all, she looks positively delightful, all dressed up and gilded with your money.

My GOD being rich would also mean you can do that thing where like you rip the clothes off bc you got way too excited. She'd ask you why you did that but then you can easily tell her that you'll buy her another one and more 🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️ full disclosure heat shot up to her very core at the display ☺️

This is like the greatest sort of ask I've ever had bc I LOVEEEEE jewellery just saying

I read something somewhere about how if you buy your partner a necklace or smth then it's like you're binding them to you. Like a collar but a lot more innocent unless yk you WANT it to be less-than-innocent

Buying her all these things being not just a way to show your love but also to show ownership is kinda crazy in a hot way, and really why wouldn't you?? When she's this formidable and Beautifully Handsome figure, why wouldn't you want to show off the fact that she's fully and utterly yours???? Just clocking onto how perhaps her children point out that the sparkles make her look brighter, or how random people may stop and stare at the shimmering pendant on her neck and knowing that you've given her whatever bounties she could ever ask for (if she wanted to ask) is!!!! Definitely A Feeling 😋😋😋

BONUS if the necklace itself is sturdy too. You'd have to think of how she would much prefer practicality, so you've made sure the metal is STRONG and REINFORCED enough to withstand force........esp when you go to tug on it harshly like a collar. Bc really at the end of the day, that's what this is—the only difference is an actual collar would be thick and would wrap around the neck while a necklace is thin and hangs loosely

In any case you tug on it harshly, bring her even closer and more personal as you start drilling into her again, and it lifts her up instead of breaking thank god ☺️☺️☺️ and she does NOTHING but take what you give her!!!!! She hangs there like a ragdoll, eyes glazed over as little grunts and quiet moans escape her lips before you hit that One Spot at that certain and then suddenly her hands are grasping onto you frantically :3

And at daily life THEN that's when she starts fully accepting your gifts and wearing it without feeling like she's extorted you somehow. When people ask her about it, she'll say that she got it all from her lover before looking at you with a tint of red on her cheeks, remembering the times when you've fucked her to the point where she felt like an object herself 🫶

[colourstreakgryffin]

hi! Please ignore this request if you don't want to do it/your request are closed.

Do you think you could do a part 2 to hells angel? Or at least like more bonding moments between the two Im in love with father alastor sm 😭🙏

It’s not closed! It’s open, wide open and yes, I’ll happily write more for Papa Alastor! I’ll happily continue the little saga of Papa Alastor and his little fawn! Kinda short but I hope that’s okay!

Alastor- Shopping Trip

“Is this one something you’d like, Princess?” Alastor asks gently, his voice both menacing because of the radio effect and soothing because of the genuine love pouring out uncontrollably, as he draws down an adorable puffy old-fashioned but colourful little dress, long sharp fingers snapped on the small silky shoulder straps slightly. A outfit just the right size for a young girl

Specifically, his little girl. Leitora, a unique deer-featured soul born from pure powerful demonic magic. The one now forming his own soul and heart, he is so glad birthing the little devil darling was successful

His precious baby daughter, a seven year old with matching little deer ears and crimson red gradient in her pretty long hair. She has been waiting a long time to be able to spend time with her father and now, Alastor has taken the whole day off from duties at the Hazbin Hotel, to spend it exploring a wild wondering sinner-filled shopping institution with his babygirl

“Yes, Père! I love it!” You immediately pipe out soft yet eccentric back, excited and hopping right in front of the Radio Demon as he quickly hooks this little clothing present onto the size-appropriate hanger it was originally left on and hands it to you without another word. He currently has a few more shopping bags over his left forearm and an another much bigger shopping bag over his right shoulder as well as your needed travel supplies in a cute old fashioned pastel schoolbag over both of his shoulders

Your father doesn’t mind carrying everything nor does he mind overspending. After all

This is a father-daughter all-day shopping trip

One. Two. Three. Four. Five. A pretty clothing store, full of women’s to men’s to children’s fashion. The fifth store you’ve gone in with Alastor since the pair of you woke up early in the morning and headed over to the biggest mall in the Pride Ring, the mall both of you stand in at this very moment. He has been needing to get you some new clothing for a while now so being able to get your opinion on the cute dresses, tights, accessorises, pyjamas and much more he picks out for you is simply perfect

Alastor has truly missed being able to spend time with you, even if it includes milking his credit card. You’re worth far more than all the wealth he’s stolen and gathered

Taking your hand with a lean down, Alastor waits patiently for you to take his offer as you quickly readjust the clothing store hanger holding up your cute little present. Moving that hanger from both hands to your wrist, you reach up and immediately grab his much bigger hand. Two to three fingers are enough to hold your whole hand, the size difference is simply precious

“Père! Père! Look! Look!” Speaking with a adorable little French accent upon pointing out and chiming excitedly in fluent French, Alastor’s crimson red eyes sharply fling away from the cute rows of female children’s clothing to the single rack of children’s hair accessorises to jewellery. The reason you pointed it out, only seconds after taking your beloved father’s hand was because you noticed something really pretty you wanted your father to see

“What is it, Princess?” Alastor lets you drag him over to the colourful rack, his own eyes wondering around with tall fluffy deer-like ears flicking a bit as if an instinctive twitch. You still have the dress your father handed to you and you reach up as a sign for Alastor to help you. Following your little cute pale fingers, the Overlord picks out a set retro pearl tassel hairpins. Something he never thought you’d like but it may fit with your red hair

He isn’t sure if he wants the metal touching your skull however, so he holds the white cardboard support holding the hairpins still, just scanning over them a bit firmly and if not protective over you

Until your voice breaks him out of his intense thought. His ears shooting up in shock as your own ears draw back slightly, not necessarily concerned but wondering why just a pair of cute accessorises would possibly make him fall so deep into a thinking trance

“Père… What’s wrong?” You’re now the one asking your father to speak to you with big sparkly eyes looking up at him, he takes a few seconds of his head shaking in slight disorientation before he finally gets back to his senses and speaks out his opinion, uncertain but yet uncertain if he wants to reject you

Alastor is not good at saying no to you, he’s good at giving out needed discipline and can be rather strict about specific things but when it comes to mundane things like a pair of mere hairpins, he doesn’t like to say no

What can be said? Alastor is the type of father to spoil his daughter absolutely rotten

“Princess… are you sure you want this one specifically?”

[yourlocaltreesimp]

The First to be Forsaken

been in the works for a while!! This was actually a request that got deleted.

So to the anon who requested a reader who was cursed by Hylia like Eda in the owl house, this is for you!

tw: chronic illness, death

۵♡۵

The ache in your hands never lessened and the maring cracks in your skin never healed. It made for a rather ugly sight, all considered. The creeping vine-like scars showing in rather gorey details the tainted flesh.

No medical salve nor healing spell could rid you of the malice that poisoned your blood. And according to the words of the fairies themselves, it’s latched to your very soul. It festers, feeding off of your energy until you’ll be left as a husk. A puppet with no one to pull its strings.

It’s not pleasant knowing you’re going to die, but it’s less so knowing that no matter how often you pray to the goddess it will not be fixed. The divine never needed to give reason for why they shunned that which gives them power. Still, the chain did what they could, and for that you had many thanks.

Wild always had hearty food to replace the energy stolen from you, Legend let you wear whatever charmed jewellery you wanted, Time would never let you take night shifts, Warriors would carry you on the days you were too fragile to walk, Twilight doubled as a bed and his pelt as a blanket, Four made braces for your brittle joints, Hyrule was always testing different mixes in hopes that one might lessen your pain, Sky would hold your hand and talk to you on the days you could walk to make sure that you had something to distract from the crying of your nerves, even Wind spared some of his grandmother’s soup in hopes that of it didn’t rid of pain, it might ease your distress. Your Heroes were funny like that, sacrificing whatever they had for anyone that needed it, no matter how precious their time or belongings are. Certainly not a coincidence they act this way. They’ve seen what’s become of you under the neglect of the gods. And you’ve seen the familiar ache in their eyes, the recognition of themselves within you.

The newest hero, First —well perhaps then he’s the oldest— was in many ways similar. He too would offer you stories and ballads from his time, forgotten by the time the next era rolled in. His words had a majesty that had the whole camp turn an ear to follow whatever tale he recalled. And by the time it came for you to lay your head and rest, your woes would be far off from the front of your mind.

He’d sweep you off your feet both in the figurative matter and the literal. With only the gentlest graze of your skin and only the sweetest words that could be uttered did he regard you. He did not hold you to a sense of pity, as was common among many who knew of you, but a genuine care. A care for you beyond measure that he’d shown on many occasions that he would stop at nothing to ensure that if you could not be comfortable, you could be content.

And currently you were, despite it being a bad day.

The champion watched over the cooking pot carefully and the traveller flicked through one of his journals, looking for a combination of herbs that might be of help to you. The two passed questions back and forth in an effort to find an overlap of medicinals they haven’t already tried.

You had Twi’s pelt, Sky’s sailcloth and First’s scarf to try and dull your cold flashes. You leaned back against the First hero as his arms warped around you and his face buried into your shoulder. You shiver as the next cold wave hits, wincing. The moment sits in silence before his arms around your abdomen gently pull you closer.

“I am sorry for what she did to you, My beloved.” His voice was deep and poetic as usual, the unwavering strength he displayed to the world melted to softness at your touch. Through the staticky emptiness that settled in your brain, the question stood, alone and without any real context nor answer.

“What do you mean?” Your brows furrow and you look over at where he rests his head on your shoulder. He draws a heavy breath, mumbling something into your layers of clothing.

“Hylia- all of this because of her vanity. I am sorry you fell victim.” There is a pain in his voice, a guilt he’s held for long. Shackles upon his wrists that he’s not willing to let himself be freed from. You suppose it is him where their united care for the world came from, no matter how unrequited. He’d bleed himself dry for the world if it meant that it’d be better.

“I don’t mind being here with you all” You hear the distant rowdy laughter of Wind and Twi, and you find it in yourself to bask in this one moment, “It’s certainly worth it. To me, at least.” He grumbles happily, kissing the nearest place of unscathed skin he can find, right below your jaw.

“I am glad, Dearest. But that-“ His voice wavers as another chill wracks your body. You can only find a wince as you try to block away the ever advancing chill.

“That is not what I meant. I- It’s because of her that you cannot find rest. It is she who whittled down your bones and set alight your nerves” You find nothing to say as you stare at him, urging for more. “She thought it was wrong for me to love you, to long for your care and yearn to hold your heart. So, she tainted y-“ You wish to hear his words. A muse longing to read the poets works, and yet-

The words grow fuzzy as the gloom within you swells, gnawing painfully at your bones. It seems that you had forgotten exactly how brittle you were. It was always hubris that killed heroes, wasn’t it? But that didn’t make sense. You were no hero. How could it be hubris if you never meant to taunt the gods. How could that be- you weren’t dying, are you?

They said you’d be ok.

You’ll be ok right?

Everything will be ok?

The pressure in your head doesn’t stop growing and your stomach hurls.

The sun is so bright.

It hurts.

She’s taking you again, isn’t she?

[margaretoakgrove]

Caring Lord Heisenberg

First of all, let me to wholeheartedly congratulate you on being one of the luckiest people in the world!

Yes, that's right, you have automatically become one since that very moment when the heart of lord Heisenberg himself chose you as his only one beloved.

And despite of the tough personality and rough exterior of this man he is, actually, quite kind, caring, gentle and attentive within the soul and will do literally anything to see a genuine smile of happiness on your face.

You will probably not hear him saying "i love you" hundred times a day because, not going to lie, Karl is not very good at expressing his feelings with words, but he will definitely always find many other different ways to show how deeply he really cares for you.

On daily basis the lord lavishly compliments your outward look, making your cheeks redden like two ripe tomatoes, and persistently encourages you not to give up on your cherished dreams but devotedly follow them no matter how difficult that is, this way helping the wings of your soul remain unfolded.

All needs of yours Karl is very well aware of and always ready to help you out to entirely fulfill each and every one of them. He buys your favorite beverages and food from the Duke, even without paying attention to the prices; masterly unnoticeably steals breathtaking books from the rich library of lady Dimitrescu, makes Donna special orders for her to sew new clothes to your liking and asks Moreau for all necessary and qualitative medicines when you are in a poor state of health.

Speaking of your health, it is extremely important for the lord for you to stay well as much as possible and for this reason, knowing his habit of smoking like a chimney, Karl avoids puffing cigars near with you.

Making jewellery of metal has now turned into Heisenberg's new little hobby in his spare of work time. He enjoys sitting in one of his workshops in a calm atmosphere, painstakingly designing and creating another trinket, at the same time quietly humming some nice melodic song and vividly imagining how doubtlessly glad you will be to receive one more peculiar handmade gift from him.

Sometimes because of an especially unpleasant family gathering or an unsuccessful experiment, the blood within the man's veins begin to boil out of irritation and pure anger. Remembering how highly sensetive by nature you really are, Karl politely asks you to leave him for some time alone in order to cool his jets and be able to think straight as he desires not one bit to accidentally snap at you and break your fragile heart.

For Heisenberg there is nothing more unbearable than to watch his darling cry. Therefore when your precious eyes start filling with bitter tears of sadness, the lord, as if on autopilot, gives you a firm yet gentle hug. Carefully and caringly stroking your hair and back, your beloved tenderly soothes you, assuring that everything is certainly going to be alright because he is always here…with you…

When you wish to take a slow stroll in a forest or simply around the village, usually Karl gladly joins you, serving you as a loyal and reliable defender. But at thouse moments when he, unfortunately, cannot come together with you, being too busy with working on his projects, the lord sends a pack of lycans in order for them to protect you from every ill-wisher and each potential danger during your walk. Don't worry! These fluffy guys just look so intimidating, but Heisenberg trained them too well, and, believe me, they will never dare to cause you any harm.

At the restless nights of your life when you, being attacked by a bunch of poisonous anxious thoughts, try to desperately fall asleep, almost constantly tossing and turning in the bed, the strong arms of your beloved wrap around you even more tighter than usual. Pulling you closely to his sturdy wide chest, Karl softly and gently caresses your tensed body, placing simultaneously little loving kisses on your face, neck and shoulders, from time to time speaking into your ear very pleasant amazing things in a whisper until you feel absolutely relaxed and sleepy.

Closing your eyes and sinking into the land of sweet peaceful dreams, inwardly you sincerely thank the Universe for allowing you to love this incredible man and to be loved by him tenfold back, feeling with all your heart that, in fact, only he and he alone is everything you have ever truly wanted and everything you have ever so badly needed.

[littlemissclandestine]

Can you make soft Vladimir makarov? Please?

Hello my dear Anon!

Of course I can 😊 - thank you so much for the ask! Wasn't sure whether you wanted MWIII or OG MW Makarov so I just went with MWIII. I'm also only comfortable writing for a female reader so hope that's okay. I hope these are to your standards and make you happy, honey. Enjoy! <3

Soft!Vladimir Makarov x Reader

WARNINGS: Mentions of sex, suggestive, MDNI, 18+ only

🖤 Soft!Mak who, initially, seems like a cold, distant man who isn't capable of loving anyone, only interested in his work but who has a soft spot for women like you

🖤 Soft!Mak who gently tilts your head up to meet his eyes, his calloused thumb on your chin, stroking it as he whispers lowly how precious you are, his lips curving into a smile as his eyes dart from your left eye to your right and back

🖤 Soft!Mak who uses terms of endearment in Russian regularly such as любимый (beloved), Дорогая (dear), Любимая (darling), Котёнок (kitten), and ангел (angel) - especially loves calling you 'my beloved' or my angel'

[i most definitely have got these wrong as i don't know Russian so someone please correct me if need be!]

🖤 Soft!Mak who loves running his hands up and down your sides as you stand in front of him while he's sat down, looking up at you

🖤 Soft!Mak who gives you that knowing smirk when you wear skirts or tight dresses and just has to compliment your shape and how stunning you look, not being able to keep his hands off you

🖤 Soft!Mak who tends to get possessive when any of his bodyguards or anybody at all looks at you in a way only he's allowed to -> (He may also beat their faces to a pulp, the skin on his knuckles broken, his crisp white shirt now stained with their blood, his face too. As you try and pull him away, he'll spit on them and curse at them. Yes he definitely gets jealous...)

🖤 Soft!Mak who takes your hands in his, holding them together, cocooning them, giving you reassurance everything will work out and he'll be back soon

🖤 Soft!Mak who kisses your forehead tenderly, closing his eyes, his hands on either side of your head before he ruffles your hair when he leaves, cracking a joke to lighten the mood when he sees you crying or saying he'll treat you to something special when he gets back

🖤 Soft!Mak who shows you how much he appreciates you for sticking by him through thick and thin, knowing the questionable things he does daily and putting that aside because you love him

🖤 Soft!Mak who sometimes takes his stress and anger out on you but would never lay a hand on you like that because how could he?

🖤 Soft!Mak who instead, prefers some time apart but only a little. You walk into the main room in your hotel or the living room in your house in the morning, finding it filled with hundreds of bouquets of flowers and your favourite chocolates and a card addressed to you, a handwritten letter detailing how much you mean to him and that he'll be back to talk things through. -> (Timing is everything with this man)

🖤 Soft!Mak who constantly wants to provide for you, spoiling you with the money he brings in, not hesitating to buy bespoke, elegant, matching jewellery for you to wear in his presence

🖤 Soft!Mak who will use as many burner phones as he needs to to call you, telling you how much he missed your voice, holding the phone away for a moment when he starts choking on tears, looking up and blinking quickly to get rid of the tears, clearing his throat and resuming the call, his voice seemingly normal

🖤 Soft!Mak who would rather keep his business with the outside world hidden from you as best he can because really you're his world, the only world he wants to be in, the only one he really wants to focus on. 'The less you know the better' kind of thing because he has to protect his woman

🖤 Soft!Mak who will, however, give you basic firearms training in his private shooting range. Just the two of you. Him standing behind you, hips pressing into yours, his hot breath tickling the shell of your ear and neck, a hand squeezing your hips as the other arm adjusts your stance and giving you a kiss on your neck when you hit your targets

🖤 Soft!Mak who will bury his face into the junction between your neck and shoulder, inhaling your scent and leaving a hickey as he wraps his arms around your lower body, hugging you from behind as you both look at the view from the balcony

🖤 Soft!Mak who doesn't mind PDA, but nothing too extreme, reminding you and everyone watching who you belong to, not thinking it's a sign of weakness but instead strength

🖤 Soft!Mak who has no guilt when it comes to the bloodshed he causes, but feels incredibly guilty when he leaves you for just one moment

🖤 Soft!Mak who needs to feel you on him all the time and touching you whenever he gets a chance to, the expression in the eyes of this trained killer turning into one of pure love and admiration

🖤 Soft!Mak who will pull you down by your wrist, causing you to fall into his lap so he can kiss you softly, his fingers digging into your hips and back, tongue intertwining with yours as you both fight for dominance

🖤 Soft!Mak whose ability to compartmentalise and keep emotions out of things is at serious risk when you came into his life because you're all that's on his mind

🖤 Soft!Mak who treats you like the rarest, most valuable thing in the entire universe, doing everything with the utmost care when it comes to you

🖤 Soft!Mak who loves you for you, admiring your strength, and treats you how a man should, his actions exemplary (even though he is often away but he makes up for it)

🖤 Soft!Mak who loves your vulnerability too, reminding you that you're both a team and to work through things together

🖤 Soft!Mak who never makes you feel like a burden on his shoulders

🖤 Soft!Mak who notices how you tend not to bother him when he's preoccupied, his gloved hands on his hips as he's talking to someone, his head tilting to the side and noticing you hunched over, immediately walking up to you because he feels bad for not spending as much time as he wants to with. Him kneeling down in front of you, removing his gloves, his hands caressing your cheeks as he asks what's on your mind with a warm expression on his face

🖤 Soft!Mak who takes your soft hands to his lips in the middle of a conversation, kissing them while maintaining eye contact with you, listening to you fully

🖤 Soft!Mak who interlocks your fingers with his in the backseat of an SUV and has an arm around you or his hand on your thigh, your head on his shoulder when you're on the run and need to relocate, being driven by a chauffeur to the next place you call home

🖤 Soft!Mak who always wonders what he did to deserve you

🖤 Soft!Mak who is full of surprises, showing you his experience in every field ;)

🖤 Soft!Mak who is big on consent, only engaging in anything sexual if you're in the mood, taking his time, talking you through it, guiding you through it, getting rougher later if you're comfortable with it

🖤 Soft!Mak who chuckles when he hears you moan or scream his name, whispering things in Russian directly into your ear that turn you on even more...

"Hehe you like that my love?...Fuck you're killing me kitten nghh look at you, so beautiful, so...sexy."

🖤 Soft!Mak who, in a mad rush, fuelled by the adrenaline and cortisol running through his veins and the fact he might not make it back before a mission, where he has a standoff with TF141, asks that million dollar question in a hotel, not his ideal proposal location but anyways he slips that ring onto your finger, lips meeting yours harshly with desire, as tears stain his cheek, saying he loves you repeatedly, cupping your cheeks as your foreheads touch and he pulls you into a quick tight hug

🖤 Soft!Mak who, when the opposition are closing in on his location, will grab your hand tightly, running through corridors on high alert, a pistol in the other as he shouts commands to his soldiers, glass breaking, bullets flying as he shields you from it all

🖤 Soft!Mak who directs you out of the area first as your safety is priority, you bring him more joy than anything in the world, the only thing he truly needs and if he lost you knowing he had a part to play, he'd never be the same again -> (would probably make his reign of terror worse, wanting to brutally torture or kill the rest of our tf141 lads in cold blood as he looks for someone else to blame even though deep down he knows some of it lies with him - I LIVE FOR ANGST. Can you tell?)

🖤 Soft!Mak who remembers your talks together in bed and how you wouldn't want him to lash out in grief and be impulsive like that or seek so called 'revenge' in the first place even though you knew what you were getting into when you began dating him

🖤 Soft!Mak who starts to question whether his cause is worth it because of the danger he's putting you in, trying to push those thoughts aside because he's THE Vladimir Makarov, the ultranationalist, the terrorist, the man whose authority and work should not be questioned by any being or they'd face the consequences...-> (the internal conflict mwahaha! *rubs hands together*)

🖤 Soft!Mak who is 110% loyal to you and you only

🖤 Soft!Mak who thinks twice about everything now that he has you

dividers by @saradika-graphics <33

Next time, don't be shy anon - YOLO. Please know this is a safe space, my love. 🙃 (Also lowkey almost fell for him a second time writing these. First time was OG!Makarov, however. Yeesh...dear God, please not again. NEVER AGAIN bdjcdjsksk) -Star ☆

[reveluving]

I AM BACK AGAIN WITH MY HEAD IN HANDS AND HORNY BRUCE WAYNE ON MY MIND I NEED THAT MAN ABSOLUTELY INSANELY DESPERATE FOR BATMOM. SOMETHINNG ABOUT THE URGE.... DELICIOUS

BRB MICROWAVE NOISES ARE HAPPENING IN MY HEEEEAD 🏃🏻‍♀️💨

writing milf!Batmom was bound to happen at some point lol I was waiting for the day to finally happen fr fr SO HERE ❤

warnings: smut (18+ content, minors DNI!)

Look, with that many kids in the household, did you really think no one's going to talk about how sexy of a mother Mrs Wayne is?

Don't get me wrong, Bruce being called a DILF is not uncommon! Just look at him; a rich and respectable hunk of a man, who is also a father of six children and counting? So much hotter than when he was known as a playboy all those years ago. It was only natural for the public to talk about the missus in question as well.

Who could've possibly been the one to finally tame the Bruce Wayne and better yet, encouraged him into the married life?

You, obviously, and boy, did the public understand why.

No matter how much the media tries to deny it, they can never ignore your beauty, your grace, and dare I say, your MILF-ness.

C'mon, everyone's eyes were always on you the second you'd step foot into the gala. Oh, Mrs Wayne is here, in her new silky, silt-cut dress, matchint heels and jewellery that complements your every feature?

Sign me the fuck up!

You may have acknowledged the reputation bestowed upon you, but what you didn't realized was just how strong that power was.

But, of course, your reputation comes with a bit of a price to pay. Not by you, but by your children.

If there was one thing Dick, Jason and Tim were especially too familiar of hearing, especially on social media, it's about you, and the Internet can be very open with their thoughts. People are getting too comfortable on the app, as one would say.

While there was no denying that you were in fact beautiful, they were still your sons, and to see such language about you was almost as traumatic as seeing you and Bruce fooling around in bed.

• 'Mrs Wayne is so hot??? HAVE YOU GUYS SEEN HER IN THOSE HEELS??? GYAT'

• 'I've seen her IRL when I was visiting her café and let me tell you; photos do NOT DO HER JUSTICE 🥵'

• 'If my future husband and I don't give Bruce and (Y/N) Wayne energy, I don't want it ☝🏼🤨'

• 'mrs wayne's thighs appreciation: a thread that will having you SCREAMING [includes 10+ photos]'

That last one in particular had an intimidating number of likes, mind you. As if their own set of fans weren't a lot to deal with already.

But hoho, if we're talking about Bruce Wayne's opinion on the matter?

Picture this.

It's like watching an edit of your favourites; going from a random video of you adorably scrunching up your nose to BAM—a slow-mo of you looking like a literal model. How or where anyone's ever gotten that footage from was uncertain, but if you asked Bruce if he's ever seen that video before?

Chances are, he'd say yes.

Repeatedly, even.

Hell, he might've saved it somewhere, amongst other 'tresures', for educational purposes.

He acknowledges the fact that you may be a teenage boy's fantasy, the dream trophy wife of many men, regardless if they were in their lonesome or in a tasteless marriage, but in the end of the day, you were his, just as he was yours.

And while he has the means to save your most intimate moments via his greatest machines, he actually prefers the good ol' polaroid. Saving at least a couple of boudoir photos in his pocket, wallet, the Batmobile, locked away in one of the Batcomputer's rack and much more. Whether they're photos of you lying on your stomach cross-legged in your lingerie, or even a picture of the two of you, glistening in sweat and naked in front of the mirror, he never ran short of his precious 'supplies', and he has more where that came from.

Knowing he was the only one able to not only see you, but make you writhe and scream and cum in his bed—in your bed, around his cock? He could die a happy man, truly. And he'll do just about anything you ask him to, no question?

Want his fingers inside you while he smothers his face in between your breasts? Certainly.

Want him to lie back so you can straddle his face and make you cum with that talented tongue of his? You don't have to tell him twice.

Want him to take your dress and lingerie off so slowly, even though his cock is aching to be touched by those sweet hands of yours? Say no more.

That man is always hungry for you, borderline desperate even, but what's new.

But, if it ever goes down to you, or when the public gets too comfortable voicing out, especially in front of you, and it clearly rubs you the wrong way, best believe he'll do something about.

He doesn't need the comments of others to know how sexy of a woman his wife really is, after all.

I wanted to write smut for this, considering it is a milf!batmom after all, but we all know how long it takes for me to do that HAHA I hope y'all still liked this one tho! Please don't forget to leave some sugar! ❤

[ranposbabe]

Wine settles the nerves | Aegon II Targaryen x implied Strong!Reader

A/N: As I am not fluent in Valyrian, please excuse any mistakes in the translations etc, thank you !

“Ah six years since we’ve last seen our blood my dear brother.” You sigh as you walk along side the quiet dark haired lad.

“Cheerful are you ?” Jace inquires with a slight smirk forming. “Oh Jace ! Please enlighten me !” You laugh, pulling at your elder brothers arm. “If you had it your way we would’ve never of left Dragonstone, y/n.”

“Lyka” (Quiet) You tease, giving him a playful punch to the shoulder. “What does that word mean again ?” Jace wonders, raising a brow. You simply scoff before turning to run off only to be chased by him. “It’s not my fault you somehow manage to be skilled speaking our mother tongue !”

Oh how the roar of your laughter could’ve been heard throughout the seven kingdoms.

Time Skip…

You were late. You can recall so vividly how your mother, the realm’s delight softly scolding you on any occasion for never arriving on time while your father figure Daemon sat back surprisingly for once holding back his laugh.

But now here you were practically running to the throne room with your small heels clicking against the ground and your black and red dress slightly swooshing away. The same exact dress your mother gave you some time ago, that she once wore years ago where she had slaughtered some boar.

But you knew how important this was.

Your younger brother Lukes right to Driftmark was being questioned and you would not just stand aside and not let your support for him be unknown.

As you slyly snuck by your cousins Beala and Rhaena you hear

“Princess Rhaenyra, you may now speak for your son Lucerys Velaryion “ Spoke the sneaky hand of the king.

“Where have you been ?” Jace asks, tilting his head. Your mother spared you a glance before walking up front to address everyone. It was only truly now in the moment you could take in the scene before you. You swore to keep your head low out of respect yet your curious eyes betrayed you as you scan right over to the gleaming light that was green.

It had only been half a decade since you last seen your aunt and uncles yet it felt like a century. Years back before Vhagar’s now rider had lost his eye, you had gotten along quite well with the young boy and his older sister.

However the same could not of been said for Aegon. He always had his nose stuck in a cup drinking and it bored you nonetheless. You can recall multiple occasions where you repeatingly stole this cup and then ran round the yard forcing him to chase you while he slightly struggled due to the wine intake.

As the young prince seemed so desperate for the precious cup you had made a joke how he should have the blacksmiths make him the finest jewellery out of the cup so the chances of it being stolen again was unlikely.

The last time you had seen Aegon before returning to Dragonstone, he placed a ring on a string and practically flung it at you and called it a day. Yet when you actually had the chance to study the “necklace” you couldn’t help but notice the striking resemblance its appearance had to the cup he had chased you for.

“Well ?” Jace says, impatiently waiting for your response. Your eyes were practicing glued to the sight of the greens. They all stood tall, especially Aemond who now wore a patch over his lost eye yet your eyes couldn’t move away from his older brother who’s hair was now cut and lacked the vibrant curls they once had. He seemed to have not noticed your stare as he himself stared off almost as if he was deprived whether it be sleep or alcohol or both you were unsure.

You turn to your brother who seemed to be the only one noticing your longing gaze yet made no comment about it.

“I was just-

Just then the booming noise of the doors opening rang through the room and a guard called out the titlements of your grandsire. At the sudden loud noise you gasp, instantly hiding behind the rogue prince like a small child. Daemon takes notice of this and sends his kind smile your way.

You couldn’t help but admire not only your grandsire but also your king as even at his weakness still came to defend not only Lucerys but you and your mother as well.

As usual at any gathering suddenly events took a turn and Daemon killed Vaemond Velaryon in front of you all. You cower back into your mothers arms as she drapes her arm protectively over you knowing you couldn’t bare the gruesome sight.

You were late. Again.

The king ordered for a family dinner where everyone where to be present and yet suddenly the dreaded thought dawned on you that you would see everyone again. You were definitely in need of a confidence boost. As you stood in the dark corridor you shakingly run your hands continuously over your dress your eye catches a serving girl with cups of wine on her plate. “Excuse me !” You call to the serving girl.

“Where is y/n ?” Viserys croaked, slowly tilting his head towards Rhaenyra. Although the music continued, everyone stopped to raise their head to notice the empty seat next to Baela. “Rhaenyra.” Alicent spoke softly. “Where is she ?” She inquires.

The others dip back to their fallen conversations but Rhaenyra breaths stop for a brief moment. She doesn’t know where you exactly are and when she shares a glance with Daemon she learns that he doesn’t know either.

“My my everyone’s already here !”

You bow respectfully while trying not to trip before your king and then place a gentle kiss on your grandsire cheek and make your way to your empty seat. Of course completely missing the horrified look on the queens face and the confusion on your poor mothers. Everyone had already began drinking and could tell you started before them all. Luke couldn’t help but laugh as you simply sat down and smiled while being completely dazed. “y/n ? Are you alright ?” Baela asked, despite knowing the answer.

“Yes.” You chirped. “Indeed I am, cousin.” You smile, patting the Velaryon girls hand.

Your eyes regretfully turn to face in front of you to see Daemon like Luke, finding amusement in your state while your mother gives you that look that she gives in her eyes to say we’ll talk later.

Avoiding her stare, you turn to face Luke to indulge in conversation while not even noticing the silver head at the opposite end of the table staring your way. Soon, out of the corner of your eye you see Aegon speaking to your brother and you can’t help but wonder. If Aegon had no problem engaging in simple conversation with the others than what had set you apart from the rest ?

As soon as Jace got up to dance with Helaena, you unsteadily slipped out of your chair and stole Jaces seat, taking the spot next to the elder prince.

“Uncle ?” You whisper, all of a sudden becoming timid. It was as if the wine was instantly drained from your system.

“You have grown, niece.” He spoke rather coldly, reaching for his cup.

“Can’t you at least spare me a glance ?” You say, snatching the cup from him.

Aegon huffs as he sunk down into his chair , slowly tilting his head to you. His tired eyes meet yours and yet suddenly it feels too intimate.

You raise a brow as suddenly his eyes widen and he sits up straighter in his chair and his just then his hand reaches for your neck.

“You’re wearing it.” He mutters in disbelief.

“What ?” You question, looking down to see his fingers clutching the ring attached to your necklace. You can practically feel the queen’s eyes burning into you like a dragons breath yet you’re currently struggling to meet Aegon’s eyes let alone his mothers.

“Aegon I-

Instantly there’s a loud bang.

Your eyes momentarily meets that of the rider of the largest dragon and there he stood with a cup in his hand.

“Final tribute.” He confidently spoke.

“To the health of my nephews.”

You can’t help but be slightly relieved that Aemond completely disregarded your presence. You knew what was to come so to avoid the madness you stood up quietly leaving behind you could hear Jace daring Aemond to repeat himself. No more did you want to hear.

Time Skip…

After taking some needed fresh air, you decided that it was time to head back inside and face your mother as you could already imagine what she would say.

No more dragon riding !

You knew that you were suppose to be accompanied by a guard while outside yet since the wine was now drained from your system you could no longer feel the urge to hold a conversation. You let out a tiresome sigh and as you turn you gasp as suddenly a hand grabs your wrist. You calm as you notice it was only the silver head prince himself.

“Skorion jaelagon a ?” (What you want ?) You sigh, trying to pull away.

“Dohaeriakson raqan.” (I like to be served) He whispered, pulling you closer by the waist. “Struggled to find a servant girl did you, my prince ?” You wonder, tilting your head slightly.

“Earlier you were practically begging for my attention, now here you are acting like it’s the other way around.”

“That is due to the fact I am no longer persuaded by wine.”

“I saw the way you looked at me in the throne room, y/n.” He says, hiding in your neck before sneakingly placing a kiss under your jaw. Your eyes can’t help but widen at his words. You were sure that he hadn’t of seen you yet you clearly stood mistaken.

“You think that strong boy was the only one who caught that look ?” You can practically feel his smirk pressed against your skin. “Don’t call him that.” You groan, rolling your eyes at the typical comment.

“Do you feel that ?” He whispers, dragging your hand down low. Despite him removing his hand, yours lingers for a few more seconds. “That is for no serving girl.” He proudly claims. “How honoured I am.” You laugh.

“You’ve really kept it after all this time ?” He asks with an almost pleading look evident in his eyes as he stares down at your necklace. “Of course.” You mutter, slightly playing with the string.

Slowly but surely you find yourself moving closer, craving to be in his presence just like before and maybe to even-

“What’s going on here ?”

You turn round, horrified to see the sight of your own mother standing there with a guard behind her. “M-mother I-“ You stutter, not able to comprehend what was happening. “y/n we are to be heading back to Dragonstone. We cannot waste another moment here.” Rhaenyra states, glaring at her half brother.

“Please escort the princess back to her brothers.” Rhaenyra ordered the guard. Your head hangs low as you head back with the guard, tears already welling up in your eyes. Rhaenyra steps closer to the younger Targaryen. “Whatever happened here, ends now.” She promises.

“We’ll see about that.” Aegon smirks.

No more dragon riding !

[thelordofgifs]

Congrats on the milestone! How about Maglor or Maedhros and jewellery, from the worldbuilding prompt list?

Digging up this old prompt for @maedhrosmaglorweek day 3! Have both of them.

"You will jingle as you walk," says Maedhros, "they will hear you coming for miles."

Maglor laughs, and tosses his head so that the dangling silver earrings chime. "A poor minstrel I will make, if my jewellery plays more music than I! No, Nelyo, these will not do." He removes them carefully, and lays them aside in the growing pile of precious metal heaped upon the side-table.

Maedhros, sitting cross-legged on the stone floor of his chambers in Himring, watches him with a faint little frown. "You must choose something," he says; "you cannot go to the feast dressed as plainly as a Vanya monk."

"My songbird's voice is adornment enough," Maglor says blithely, "and anyhow I did not come here to pick out my own gems. We must make some progress on deciding what to bring as gifts."

From the chest Maedhros draws out a long string of pearls, meant to be draped three times around the neck for the full effect. A souvenir from a summer Maglor spent in Alqualondë, long before the light of the Trees went out, or indeed before their father took it into his mind to preserve it. Maglor chose the pearls himself, going up and down a hundred beachside stalls to pick out those most perfectly round and white, and had Finrod his cousin teach him how to string them on a thread of silk before presenting them to Maedhros. How lovely they had looked set against his brother's fair skin; they had seemed almost to glow.

"These – these stones," Maedhros says, hesitant, "we could gift them to the envoys of the Sindar, perhaps."

Maglor swallows. "They are pearls, Nelyo," he says, keeping his voice light. Maedhros blinks at him, and he explains, "They come from the sea, from oysters. We used to get them from the Teleri." He pauses, and then, when Maedhros still looks bewildered, adds, "I do not think it good politics to gift them to the kin of those we slaughtered, whether or not they know of it."

Maedhros' face darkens. "You are right – Nolofinwë's host will murmur to see them, besides." He gives the pearls another troubled look and then sets them aside.

No use, Maglor has learned, in dwelling on these missing spaces in his brother's memory. They frustrate Maedhros enough as it is: and it is nothing personal, Maglor knows, that he has forgotten the pearls were a gift from Maglor. Their Enemy has taken from Maedhros things far more precious than the recollection of a trinket. It does not sting, that Maedhros does not remember.

Maedhros has turned his attention back to the chest before him. These are all his personal jewels, salvaged from their father's house in Tirion in the brief hours they had to pack before setting out on their ill-fated march. In the years of his captivity Maglor would indulge himself, sometimes, and open the chest, and admire the treasure within as though he were yet a fanciful child trying on his brother's baubles; and he would tell himself that he would hear Maedhros' laughing voice at the door any moment now, saying, Are you going through my things again, little magpie?

Maedhros does not much like to wear jewellery, these days. He says that it chafes against his skin, and on darker days that it puts him in mind of chains; occasionally he will consent to Maglor pinning back his hair with a bejewelled clip, or to an unobtrusive pair of earrings, but all his fine gold necklaces and ornate jewel-encrusted bracelets are useless now.

"Too few gemstones," he says now with a frown; "they were more marvellous than the metalwork, and would be better received."

Maglor thinks with some regret of a fine set of rubies his father had made him for his two hundredth begetting-day. Like all the house of Fëanor's best jewels, they were locked in the vault at Formenos, and stolen by Morgoth when he ransacked it.

"I know not how things are done in Doriath," he says, "but in any case the Mithrim Sindar are not over-fond of jewels, much like their Falmari kin. I do not think we need worry that our gifts will seem poor to them; in truth they will know not what to do with them. They wear flowers in their hair oftener than gems."

"It may be different in Doriath," Maedhros argues. "Findaráto says of Menegroth that the very walls are studded with jewels. Perhaps a gift of our own best would go some way towards earning Elwë's favour."

Maglor frowns. "Think you he will come himself, then?"

"Perhaps," says Maedhros, "but even if he does not we must not seem to be ungenerous. Many of those in Nolofinwë's host will be searching for any excuse to name us so." He passes his hand over his eyes, looking tired. Maglor only arrived yesterday, but he has his suspicions about how long his brother had gone without sleep before that. "We must choose presents for them too—"

"You gave Nolofinwë a crown," says Maglor; "surely he will be sated with that!"

The jest makes Maedhros laugh, as it would not coming from any of their other brothers, edged as it would be with resentment or mockery. Maglor is awfully, selfishly glad of that.

"Come here," says Maedhros, "you are distracting me. Help me choose what to give our own kin, at least."

Maglor settles on the floor beside him. "This for Findaráto," he says, picking out a necklace of sapphires that Maedhros never much liked in the first place, "it will go well with his eyes."

Maedhros favours him with a smile. "Well chosen," he says. Then he finds a very fine emerald, set into the front of a copper circlet but easily prised free, and examines it thoughtfully. This, Maglor remembers, is a relic of their father's first experiments with the art of capturing light; it does not shine with a light of its own as do the Silmarils, but catches and magnifies all the daylight coming through the window in a most pleasing manner, reflecting them back in every shade of green imaginable. Maedhros sets it aside, and when Maglor casts him a questioning look blushes and says only, "For Finno."

The next piece Maedhros draws out of the chest is a golden bangle, from Fëanor's filigree phase: the metal worked into the shapes of trees and flowers and leaping horses, studded all over with tiny gems in a multitude of colours. Their father was in a good mood, when he made this, Maglor recalls. The precision of the work appealed to him. Perhaps it was that more than the loveliness of the finished product that made Maedhros fond of it.

"You always liked this one," says Maedhros, his eyes warm now with recollection. "The number of times it turned up on your dressing-table, after I had spent hours searching for it! Here." And he slips the bangle onto Maglor's wrist.

Maglor tenses, forces himself to relax, and takes it off again. "I do not want it," he says, "thank you, Nelyo."

Maedhros blinks at him. "I cannot wear it," he says, "not a bangle, it will be – too tight." He shudders briefly and then masters himself. "You might as well take it, and then someone can have use of it."

You do not want him back, Celegorm spat once; all your mourning is performance only. You are quite content to sit here wearing his crown and playing dress-up with his jewels, in truth.

"I do not want it," Maglor says again.

"Káno," Maedhros says, very gently. He tilts Maglor's chin up to examine his face. "What troubles you?"

But how can Maglor tell him, I am not now the child you knew in Valinor, the little magpie who so loved to be adorned? How can he say, I too was sated with a crown? He cannot unburden himself to Maedhros, who so depends on him to be merry and bright and unruffled. He has lost the right to do so.

"It will get in the way," he says, "when I play my harp." Then he summons up a smile and says, cheerfully, "Five cousins yet to choose gifts for, and then you promised you would let me practice my new Sindarin songs after we dine! We had better hurry." And he turns back to the chest before Maedhros can object.

[mrs-illyrian-baby]

A Well Trained Pet | Prince Loki's Favourite Maid AU | Loki x Reader | Drabble 900 words

Loki has a gift for you, his precious pet.

Warnings: 18+ for sexual content, sex magic, pet play, dom/sub dynamics, dom!Loki, collars & leashes, oral sex, thigh riding, cum play, some arguing, Loki is both persusive and possessive. He's a Prince, she's a maid, you know the drill.

Divider by @firefly-graphics & @reveriesources

Masterlist | Prince Loki's Favourite Maid AU | Loki Masterlist

Loki stalked down the hallway, offical robes dusting the white marble floors as your shoes clicked just meters in front of him.

"Where are you going? Your Prince has asked for your company," he spoke sternly, but betrayed his jealousy with the hand that reached out to you.

"I'm going back to my chambers. You've embarrassed me in front of the court, how will I show my face tomorrow." You snapped back, surprising the royal as you whipped round to face him. "I have jobs to complete in the morning. Good night, Your Highness," you simmpered, curtseying formally before turning and stamping towards the servant's quarters.

"Come back" Loki reached out and grasped your arm, spinning you back round and pushing you against the wall. The tapestry of Odin and Frigga's courtship fluttering as he stepped closer, caging you against the fabric.

"Leave me be, Prince Loki," you stared back at him, defiant.

"My darling" his tone changed, softer somehow, concerned. "I believed you liked to be my little Pet, is that not so?"

"Well, your information is wrong." you blushed at the name, allowing your eyes to move from his, to take in the deep forest green robes, the gold jewellery adorning his neck and hands.

"It doesn't seem to be wrong, my Pet, you blush, you move to my touch."

"In private, Your Highness."

"Ahh, I see, well, then perhaps we should adjorn to my chambers instead?" He coaxed, a hand at the small of your back, holding you against him.

You thought for a moment, you should really be more angry about his public display in the banquet hall. Yet his warm hands, towering presence and silver tongue are telling you otherwise.

"What if I had a present for you, to truly make you my little Pet?" You narrowed your eyes, "a private present, for us, but so you always know I'm thinking of you."

"I suppose, if you've gone to the trouble of a present, Your Highness."

He smiled, the joy spreading slowly across his face as he leaned into your neck to whisper in your ear. "You know better than that, Pet," he teased.

"Yes, Master," you relaxed into his touch, allowing him to bring you closer. In a moment you're in the private warmth of Loki's chambers. A fire burning in the hearth, furs and blankets spread before it.

"Stay here, Pet." He pointed down at the warm nest in front of the fire and you knelt obediently, fiddling with the blankets. When he returned he was carrying a flat black box. "For you."

You opened it slowly to reveal a gold chain necklace with a single emerald set almost floating into one of the links. Beside the necklace was a second chain, this one has a leather loop at the end. Despite yourself you could feel heat pool between your thighs, clamping your knees together to try and hide your excitement.

"Ah, you can't hide from me little Pet. Perhaps you need a little Pet name, hmm? Bunny?" He looked you up and down slowly, eyes undressing you. "No. No, that won't do. You've got claws when you need them. A Kitten then," he said rubbing a hand over your head and down your back and it took all your control not to purr at his gentle, teasing, touch.

He took the chain and wrapped it deftly around your neck, clicking the delicate lead to the attachment at the front.

"How do you feel, Kitten?"

You preened, feeling the metal warm against your skin, the knowledge that you of all the beautiful maids, not to mention the maidens, ladies and princesses, at court had gained Loki's specific favour.

"Wanted," you sighed, sitting forward to rest your head on Loki's knees. A familiar position, comforting for you both. As you sat together, Loki's hand on your head, you could feel an odd sensation building, like being able to feel your hair grow. Your own hand joined his atop your hair but something was in the way. Finer hair, the twitch of a pointed ear, your senses heightened, your pupils blown.

"You don't mind? I thought you could use some further help with your feline endeavours," Loki's voice was its own low purr and in surprise you sat up straighter, a matching black tail flicking out from underneath your uniform.

"Oh!"

"I can give you claws, as well, should I upset you?" He teased, pulling your head higher with a firm grasp on the golden lead.

"Oh no, Master, it's quite...an interesting sensation," the tail swished lazily back and forth on the ground, ears dipping a little at a scratch behind the ear.

When you were used to your new ears and tail Loki tightened his grasp on the lead a little further, keeping his hand low you crawled closer up onto his foot, until you were hugging his thigh. You hated it, how much you loved it, your core throbbing and your nerves fizzing at being so close to him.

"Now, Kitten, I think it's time to show your Master your thanks for your gift," he held you tight against his leg, your damp panties soaking through onto the cool, slick, leather.

"Yes, Master," instinctively you opened your mouth, this time letting your tongue lol a little, as he pulled himself free of his tight leather trousers. True to your knew name you gave his pink head a few cautious kitten licks, gathering his precum on your tongue before sinking down as far as possible, gagging on his length.

"What a good, well trained, little Kitten you are my Pet," his words made you throb and rub yourself against his leg all the more, humming and moaning around his cock as it leaked down your throat "Good, Kitten. Drink all your milk and you'll get a reward."

You looked up just in time to see Loki's grin turn feral, his cock throbbing against your tongue and then you closed your eyes, giving in to your animal instincts.

[cuffmeinblack]

From the prompt list

13,18 with Ominis?

A certain necklace of a certain aunt Noctua being gifted to a certain someone as a token of love and to remind others to back off?

Parting gift

Ominis Gaunt x gn!reader

Tags: fluff

850 words

"oh, shit. I'm in love with you??" prompt: 18. having them give something of importance to them for you, as a gift

A/n: Thank you for the prompt (and the gif)! I chose 18 for this one. He's a bloody romantic and you can't stop meeeeeeeeeeee.

Ominis had been acting strangely as you approached the end of your time at Hogwarts. The way he'd fiddle with his wand and become lost in thought couldn't be attributed to your examinations now that they were over. He'd secured a job, all was well, so why was he so distracted?

The nervous energy that radiated off of him was catching and set you on edge when you were alone with him. More often than not, you'd end up watching his movements, occasionally losing yourself in his turbulent eyes, wondering just what was bothering him.

You'd tried to ask him, of course, but he'd so far managed to brush off your enquiries. Even Sebastian had thus far been unable to draw an answer out of him. Perhaps a drop of veritaserum in his morning tea would loosen his tongue, you thought idly.

When finally he admitted what he'd been ruminating, it was the last day of term. Celebrations were being had all about the castle and tearful goodbyes exchanged. You had promised to write to Sebastian, as often as you could whilst you were travelling, earning you a heartfelt embrace, but the words didn't seem to elicit the same response from Ominis.

"I'm...not thrilled at the prospect of you being alone on your travels," he admitted.

"Are you worried? I'm more than capable of facing whatever is out there."

Ominis shook his head, whether in disbelief or to convey a misunderstanding, you weren't sure. His hand delved into the coat of his blazer, pulling out a familiar silver chain, draped over his delicate fingers. After a second of contemplation as he brushed the locket with his thumb, he held it out in the palm of his hand.

"Take this with you. For me?"

Reaching forward, you picked up the delicate chain, ignoring the flutter in your chest as you brushed his warm skin. It was beautiful, understated and too precious for you to keep.

"This was your aunt's? I can't take this, Ominis."

"Why ever not? Please, I wish you to have it."

The large opal in the centre of the locket glittered in the waning light, and you turned it over to run your fingers over the Gaunt family crest with a sigh. Returning your gaze to your dear friend, you noticed he finally seemed at peace; his hands clasped in front of him and face relaxed with no hint of a frown.

He been so eager to gift this to you, for reasons you couldn't fathom. His cloudy blue eyes held no answers, but you searched them anyway as your heart raced and a blush crept onto your cheeks. Ominis had always been generous in how he bestowed thoughtful gestures, though you now realised that you'd been their only recipient.

"This is...this is a family heirloom, Ominis. I know you don't care much for your family traditions but..."

"That is exactly the point, you see. I had hoped that one day you...," he trailed off, seemingly unable to finish his train of thought. "Take it with you, so that perhaps you might think of me. When you return I'll be waiting. You may return it then, unless of course you'd prefer not to."

You almost laughed at the thought of needing a trinket to think of him. You'd be thinking of him regardless, though you were no longer sure exactly how. Was he just a friend if the thought of being apart from him illicited such a deep sense of dread? That the jewellery now clasped tightly in your palm radiated comfort and quelled the longing which you already anticipated?

He cared enough to give you something so precious, which spoke volumes of his character and how he really felt for you. You'd been blind to his affections until this moment, and the sharp inhale of breath you took as the realisation hit you sent a ripple through the air between you.

"Do you understand?" Ominis asked quietly.

"Yes, I do."

You stepped towards him, gently brushing the back of his hand as he tilted his head towards the sound of your heavy breathing. Picking up his his hand, you turned it over and placed the locket in his palm, a pained expression crossing his face until you spoke.

"Could you help me put it on?"

Ominis smiled in relief, feeling the chain to find the delicate clasp as you turned to face away from him, exposing your neck. His featherlight touch glided over your exposed skin, tracing your spine before circling around to the side as he brought the necklace in front of you. Your fingertips glided over the opal as it lay perfectly just below your collarbone, turning back towards Ominis and gasping at how close he'd become.

"Ominis, I don't need this to think of you, but I'll take it with me," you whispered.

"Thank you. It's comforting to know you'll have something of me."

"May I ask for something else to take with me?" you asked, a sudden boldness overcoming you.

"Of course, what is it?" Ominis replied, tilting his head in question.

"A kiss."

[multific]

Sugardaddy Jesse Cromeans - Preference

Jesse Cromeans x Reader

Warnings: Smut

You were nothing like the woman he killed. You were so different and yet, you piqued his interest more than anything.

He knew he needed to have you in one way or another.

You were too precious to kill, so he used the one thing he had, money. 

Seeing just how bad of a financial situation you were in, he knew he didn't need to use much convincing. 

And soon you became his sugarbaby. Although you hated the title so he just called you 'My Girl'. At least that was your name in his phone.

You at first found his text to speech thingy a bit scuffed, but it was a good communication form. And you got used to it quickly.

At the beginning of your relationship, he wouldn't tell you about his hobby. It is because he decided to distance you from his bad side.

You are the most precious flower, how could he ever taint your perfection with such horrible scenes? You were not meant to see blood and bodies laying around. 

He would often tell you that he is on a trip and he would always come back with many many gifts. Forget any clothing you had in the past, Jesse would hire a stylist to help and create a new wardrobe for you.

Clothes, jewellery and anything you can ask for.

It was all yours within moments of you saying anything. No matter the price.

You would fail to notice, but in a way, these techniques were so you wouldn't start poking your nose around. 

He would walk around with you, showing you off to everyone. You wouldn't know why he loved to see you in silver metallic dresses, but who were you to ask?

When he finally decided to share that side of him with you, if you were honest, you kind of expected it.

He was happy to see you not freaking out, he paid special attention to you and you not even once tried to call the cops.

He loved that.

It was proof you were fully his.

And as a reward, he planned a romantic weekend.

Now, sex with him before and after knowing wouldn't be different.

First and foremost, he would never do something you are not comfortable with. Communication is key. So expect him to bring up topics like that during dinner.

He loved to tie you down. Of course, he is the dominant, no matter what position you two are in.

You would call him Daddy, of course. 

Loves to hear you moan and groan. Wants you to keep making those sounds, he even records them if you give permission. He would use it as your notification sound.

Imagine him, sitting in an important meeting, all business, everyone serious and then, you send a text. Your loud moans echo in his meeting room, everyone freezes as he reaches into his pocket and replies to your text. No one dares to ask. No one dares to comment or even give a side eye to him.

In bed, he could be rough, never to the point of hurting you. He would love to edge, overstimulate and make you squirt. Even if you say you can't, doesn't mean he wouldn't try.

Aftercare with him is always sweet.

He would never run off after, he would stay and make sure you are okay. You can be fucked out to the point of being delirious, he would always take care of you. Clean you, shower you, and give you many many kisses.

Being his sugarbaby would not last longer than a couple years, because after having you around long enough, he would have to have you fully to himself so he would ask you to marry him.

Taglist: @fleursirvart @greenarrowhead @thisismysecrethappyplace @sincerelyfan @theoneanna @aestheticsandmarvel @rororo06 @castellandiangelo @destynelseclipsa @spilledinkindumpster @capsiclesdoll @puknow @alwayshave-faith @soleil-dor @alex12948 @lxdyred  @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @anonymoussherlockandmarvelgeek @praline357 @trshngyn @avengers-r-us @violet-19999 @top1bbgloak​

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

             DO NOT REPOST OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORKS

[satansamwriting]

Hi i have a request! Could u do a oneshot of mk1 raiden x male reader who is a demigod (or god) of thunder? Reader is charming and stuff and takes interest in raiden when he arrives in outworld for the tournament.

Could u also include reader talking to rain somewhere in the story? I love rain and i think hes not appreciated enough😭

I hope this isnt too much. Thanks!

MK1 Raiden With Demigod of Thunder M!reader

Is it just me or every character in Mk keeps getting hotter and hotter with each new game?

Anyway, I was glad to see someone ask for Mk1 Raiden, I fell in love with him the moment he appeared. I tried my best to include Rain as I too think hes a bit under appreciated. Might do something for him alone in another post.

I hope you enjoy this story!

Disclaimer : I guess you guys are used to it by now but English ain't my native language. There might be mistakes in this. I apologizes for them.

Leaning against one of the Great Hall pillars,arms crossed over his chest, (Y/n) observed the outworlders gathered within its walls. The news of the Earthrealm champion arriving momentarily had excited the population of Sun Do. Many had come to spectate the first match.That or to gaze upon the earthrealmers. 

The Great Hall was truly a sight to behold. Drenched in sunlight, this place almost felt unreal.It showcased perfectly well the wealth of Outworld. Gold adored its walls in ornate ways, glistening like precious jewellery under the sun. Rich purple drapes hung from the ceiling, giving the hall its serene yet noble look. Flowers scattered around the room filled the space with their sweet scent. From time to time, a gentle breeze would pass through, lifting fallen petals as it went. 

Standing beside (Y/n) was an edenian mage. Dressed in purple clothing, the man almost seemed to camouflage himself with the purple drapes. Neither spoke to the other, but (Y/n) could feel the eyes of the man staring. 

“Is there something I can help you with, hydromancer?”

Glancing toward the mage, (Y/n) smiled softly. He was used to the staring. Mostly due to his mismatched coloured eyes, one being electric blue and the other a dark colour. 

“It is rare to see other gods, other than Liu Kang.”

Chuckling, the demigod’s attention was drawn away from the mage as the earthrealmers and Lord Liu Kang entered the room. Unfamiliar with the world, (Y/n) observed as the earthrealmers inspected their surroundings with eyes filled with awes. The group stood slightly away from the other outworlders. 

“You flatter me mage but I’m only a demigod.”

The edenian hummed, he too, had his sight on the newcomers. Moments later, General Shao walked in. From his side of the room, (Y/n) could not hear what the man said but he could guess it wasn’t pleasant. Whatever exchange they had, the general left shortly after, displeased by Lord Liu Kang’s words.

“The earthrealmer don’t stand a chance.”

“I wouldn’t be so quick to judge 

Any further conversations were cut short once the arrival of the Empress was announced. Everyone bowed when Sindel entered,closely followed by her two daughters. Taking their place on their throne, Sindel welcomed the earthrealmer with a beautiful speech. 

(Y/n) kept his eyes on one particular earthrealmer. He could feel electricity coming from that man. The first fight confirmed his suspicion. Whoever he was, (Y/n)  was amazed by his mastery of lightning.Excusing himself away from the mage, the demigod  frayed himself a path through the crowd, only stopping once he stood beside Liu Kang. 

“Is he the reason for that strange request you asked of me some nights ago?”   

Clapping once the first kombat was won by the champion, (Y/n) must say he was becoming rather intrigued by the man. 

“It is good to see you, my friend.” Came the reply of the god of fire. The man was smirking, which helped to answer (Y/n) question. 

“You chose well.” 

******

“Raiden meet (Y/n), he’s the demigod of thunder and a close friend of mine.”

Taking place in the Hanging Garden at night, basked in the colourful lights of the vegetation surrounding them, the banquet was full of life. A variety of food lithered the tables, making anyone's mouth water just by the smell of it. Sitting at the end of the table, (Y/n) nodded toward Raiden.

“It is a pleasure to finally meet Earthrealm’s champion.”

(Y/n) couldn’t help but admire the beauty of the other man. He held himself properly but the demigod could see an ounce of shyness within him. Perhaps he was unused to so many eyes on him. Cute.

“Likewise Lord (Y/n), Lord Liu Kang talked about you during my training.”

Raising an eyebrow, (Y/n) gave a brief glance toward the other god, who was feigning to be more interested in others' conversation.Typical.

“ I imagine he told you about my gift then?”

Swirling the dark red liquid inside his glass, (Y/n) took a sip to hide the growing smirk on his face. Raiden brushed his fingers against the amulet strapped around his waist, a flash of surprise and curiosity passing through his eyes.

“Part of my lightning now flows through you.”

The chosen one stared at his amulet before meeting (Y/n) eyes. 

“It is an honour for me to wear your gift.”

Warthm blossomed inside the demigod. Raiden sure was an interesting earthrealmer. Maintaining a friendly chat as they ate, (Y/n) got to learn more about the man. How his life used to be on earthrealm before the tournament, his first meeting with Liu Kang. In exchange, (Y/n) recounted stories about his life as a demigod and of his travels through other realms.

 At one point during the festivities, the Empress stood up and everyone fell into silence. 

“My husband Jerrod believed that the future of our realms lay together.” Pausing, she surveyed the gathered guests. “Let us move forward in open dialogue, letting no secrets tear our bonds asunder.” As the last words left her mouth, the empress raised her glass to toast and everyone followed. 

Raiden offered some words afterward, until General Shao had the audacity to rudely interrupt the young man. The general was quickly stopped by an angry Sindel. Once he was gone, Sindel excused herself from the banquet, telling the remaining guest to enjoy the rest of the night. Her eyes met (Y/n)’s, who nodded and bowed apologetically toward the chosen one. 

“I’m afraid I am needed somewhere else, please don’t let the general’s words ruin your night.” With that, he followed the Empress. 

Raiden followed the duo with his eyes until they disappeared inside the palace. Puzzled, he turned toward Liu Kang, a question burning on his lips. 

“He acts as my mother’s advisor whenever he returns to Outworld.” Kitana, who had been sitting next to (Y/n) the entire banquet, answered before the words could leave Raiden’s mouth. Nodding, Raiden couldn’t help but feel the absence of the demi-god as the banquet resumed. 

 ********

(Y/n) was beyond exhausted. Silently marching down the palace emptied halls, he could feel the beginning of headache taking place. The whole ordeal with the general and then Mileena sickness had taken a toll on him.

Stars shone brightly into the night sky. Passing through one of the many gardens surrounding the palace, (Y/n) halted, letting his mismatched eyes gazed at the sky. Something dark was brewing. The demigod feared that they were at the brim of a war. Perhaps he should consult with Lord Liu Kang. He wouldn’t be surprised if the other god had felt something similar. Pitching the bridge of his nose, (Y/n) felt a familiar buzz nearby. 

“Shouldn’t the champion be resting at this hour?”

Soft footsteps echoed around the garden. Titling his head, the demigod crossed his arms behind his back. 

“Apologies, I couldn’t sleep.” 

Now standing beside him, the demigod drank in the sight of the man. Raiden had discarded his hat, opting to let his hair free from the ponytail. Instead of his usual white fighting attire, Raiden now wore loose clothing, courtesy of being guests in Sindel’s palace. 

“Stressed for your next kombat?”

(Y/n) tried to ignore the growing  urge to brush his fingers through Raiden's soft looking hair. Therefore, he focused his attention back to the sky, hoping it would help. 

“Will you be there?” 

Caught off guard by the innocent question, (Y/n) tried to maintain his calm. Telling his beating heart to calm down inside his head, he gave a furtive glance toward Raiden. The man’s dark eyes were trained on him, hopeful.Elder Gods save him, this man would be the death of him. 

“Of course, I wouldn’t dare miss it.” 

A strong hand wrapped around Raiden’s shoulder, squeezing it reassuringly. Nothing in Outworld could make the demigod miss the kombat. Even more so when the chosen one himself had asked for his presence.

*******

Truthful to his words, (Y/n) stood beside the empress the next day. Raiden once again proved himself worthy of his title as champion. Each opponent fell under his strength, Princess Kitana was no exception.  

“Earthrealm wins” Echoed the voice of the empress after general Shao was defeated. She left shortly after, having other matters that needed to be taken care of. (Y/n) knew he would be needed soon, but instead of following Sindel as he should, he waited patiently on the side and watched as the other earthrealmers congratulated the winner. 

"Hey chosen one, looks like one of your fans is waiting for you." Pushing Raiden in (Y/n)'s direction, the blonde earthrealmer gave him two thumbs up.

"You fought well, Earthrealm  and Outworld can stay at peace because of you."  A part of the demigod was saddened by how quick the tournament had ended. Raiden would soon be departing for Earthrealm, where they might never see eachother again. 

"Well it's mostly thanks to your gift really." Raiden said as he took the amulet in his hand. 

"Nonsense, my gift gave you magic, not skills. " Placing a hand on top of the amulet, he felt tiny shocks of electricity as his fingers brushed against Raiden's. 

"I hope your return to Earthrealm goes well." Squeezing Raiden's shoulder one last time, he bowed to the rest of the group and turned to leave.

"Will I ever see you again?" 

Facing Raiden, (Y/n) pointed at the amulet still in Raiden's grasp. 

"You'll always have me by your side, chosen one, no matter where you go."

Unknown to the two of them, they would eventually meet again. This time, they would fight side by side to protect the fate of Earthrealm. 

[snnrinc]

Zburătorul: The One Who Flies

Zburătorul (zboo-ruh-toh-rule; directly translated as The Flyer or The One Who Flies) is a supernatural being in Romanian folklore, the embodiment of erotic desire and the epitome of temptation. Beware of falling victim to his loving embrace, his lustful gaze and his charming words. Having a taste of him will leave you longing for more, and soon, more will not be enough and you will be driven to insanity. But, if he steps into your room...

... then it’s already too late.

— PAIRING : Hawks/Keigo Takami x F!Reader [AO3 Portal]

— WARNINGS : NSFW, smut, fantasy AU, afab!reader, use of she/her pronouns, PIV, unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), fingering, feather play, outdoor sex, creampie, overstimulation, porn with plot, bad poetry

— WORD COUNT : 14.3k

— AUTHOR'S NOTE : Inspired by the myth of the Flyer (pretty obviously). This AU takes place sometime in the 1800s. You can think of the Commission/Hero society as some sort of Olympus in this AU. Thanks for taking the time to read!

It was a day like any other, your sleeves raised up as much as you could to allow the breeze to cool you down, your headscarf protecting your head from the scorching sun but doing nothing to help with the sweat running down your body. You tried to move fast — the faster you work, the quicker you can finally take some rest — but you knew you’d be stuck between the vines, picking grapes until sundown. It was today that you were on duty, after all, other members from your family and neighbouring ones working the same as you in other rows from the vineyard.

You took a moment to wipe your hands on your apron before raising the fabric up to wipe your forehead. To say you were tired would be an understatement, but it was certainly better to be here, harvesting grapes, than the alternative of tilling the fields. Your hands were already calloused from last week when you had to work. Then again, with the amount of field work you were doing, the normal state of your hands seemed to be bruised and rough, so you were not surprised.

Your village was thriving on farming and especially on the large vineyards stretching across acres of land, feeding the prosperous wine industry of the town not too far from where you lived. Naturally, the large majority of people in the area made a living between rows of vines, yourself included.

Following the taste of fine wine and many business opportunities, people from across the country passed through the town next to your village, some settling down and creating a hub of what some villagers would call modern civilization. But out of all the shops opening their doors warmly to sell the most delicious food, most precious jewellery, most beautiful clothes, and of course, most flavourful wine, nothing quite caught your eye like the new library that opened just shy of the town centre.

You covered your forehead with your hand, shadowing your vision as you looked up at the sky. The sun was right above you, blazing down on you relentlessly. It was barely noon and you were not yet done, surely the library would close by the time you reach the town, but you were hoping today was another day when the head librarian would stay behind. You sighed as you grabbed a small piece of rope and tied the now empty vine to the metal wires running through the row, preventing the vine from falling to the ground from its own weight.

You continued working for a few hours, time melting under the heat of the sun, until soon dusk began approaching and the people working alongside you started vacating the vineyard. You quickly left your place and began running through the rows of grapevines, hoping that if you were quick enough you’d reach the carriage of people heading towards the town to spend a few hours reading before heading home. As you made your way closer to the street, you shouted once and the coachman turned towards you before beaming once he recognised you.

“Ah, there you are! Come aboard!” Mirio gestured lively for you to join the other workers in the carriage once you reached him. “Going home?”

“No, town centre.”

Mirio’s smile faltered, making way for a concerned expression to slip through his bright one. “Again? At this time? It’s getting dark.”

“Aren’t you the sweetest for being worried about your friend?” You smiled. “I promise I’ll be home before long.”

Mirio sighed, but didn’t stop you as you climbed inside the carriage, squeezing next to the other workers. “You always say this. I’m not passing through the village until tomorrow afternoon, I won’t be able to take you home.”

When he didn’t hear you respond, he sighed and resigned to flicking the reins of the horse in front of him, starting towards the town centre. Along the way, people kept getting off at different points, in front of their houses, at crossroads, near taverns, until you were the only one left inside the carriage. Mirio was quiet, but he knew where you wanted to get off, so he didn’t stop until he reached the library. After all, this was not the first time you’d decided to come all the way here to read, borrow books or bring them back to search for others. He’d usually pass back on his way to his home in the village, so he’d collect you from near the library to take you home safely at the end of the day, but duty called for a detour tonight. The pang of guilt and worry that you’d be alone in the dead of night, far from home, could not be soothed by the roll of your eyes and your reassurance that you were a grown adult capable of making decisions for yourself. Nonetheless, you appreciated your friend’s worry, making it known as you bid him farewell and headed towards the dark oak doors of the library.

With a soft breath, you pulled the heavy door open, pleasantly surprised that it was not locked even as the sun began drifting towards the horizon, touching it and bathing the skies in oceans of red, purple and navy hues. You closed the door behind you, wincing at the way the old metal hinges creaked loudly in the silence of the library. You looked around and, once you noticed there was no one around, silently stepped further in, gliding through isles of bookshelves like a ghost, trying to keep your presence as hidden as possible. You couldn’t allow the librarian to see you after a day of work, covered in dirt and grime, again. Apologising too many times for the same issue like looking disheveled was tiring, even if he had told you it was not a problem.

With swift steps, you made your way through the library, grabbing books here and there, before settling at an empty table and opening one you had been reading in the past few days.

“Of Myths, Love and Desire,” the title read, golden on a cobalt blue cover. You gently brushed your fingers over the writing, feeling the protruding letters for what seemed like the hundredth time since you first laid your hand on the book. Next to it on the table, there were various books authored by different poets, all having one thing in common.

The creature that captured your attention.

When you first started reading poems a few months ago, after you had finished several fantasy books and were looking for something new to get lost into, they were describing the stone-heavy weight of heartbreak, the cold touch of sadness, the solitude that comes with reaching heights of knowledge that the average person couldn’t comprehend and the serenity of simply basking in the magic of nature. Steadily, the poems started to weave verses about love, about its purity and the vice-like grip it can have on a human’s heart. But then, something else bled through declarations of love and everlasting loyalty, slipping through the cracks of descriptions of sweet kisses and bashful hugs.

Desire.

And with it came him.

It started with a poem about a creature, a man, a star gliding down from the skies, visiting an innocent woman at night, slipping through the window of her chambers. Lovers, you found out, from the verse in which she latched onto his neck as he stole a kiss from her, happily inviting him into her bed.

Then another, this time from the woman’s perspective, about how her dreams were tormented by the handsome man, her body aching for his touch, unable to reach that sweet release without his help. She was begging the heavens for pity through heavy breaths, but received none.

And yet another, deemed a masterpiece by critics, as you’d read in the preface. A story following the journey of an evening star visiting the object of his affection at night after receiving her call. But this time, he was not there just for his own pleasure, or to drive her mad with lust. This time, he sought love, taking on various forms, divine and devilish alike, to please his lover, willing to give up on everything he was to be together with his love, but ultimately being rejected by reason that he belonged to a different world, the woman then seeking love in the arms of a mortal. You scoffed at that — how ridiculous to say no to such an opportunity — but you still checked the preface again to see just why these critics liked the poem so much, and you’d read about the myth there. About who they called “The One Who Flies”. You didn’t know what took over you when you scoured the bookshelves for more information about him, but that was when you found the book you now had open in front of you.

Soon enough, you hung onto every word. There were parts describing him as handsome and alluring, an otherworldly being fallen onto Earth to plant the seed of lust into humans. He’d visit them in their dreams and have them experience a pleasure so intense they would be driven to insanity, addicted to him to the point that only witches could ever save them from desire through spells and potions. Some sources described him as an incubus, some as a star or a personification of evil. You soon delved into the myth of Eros and Psyche, entranced by how love could ever be combined with something such as lust that you had been conditioned to find repulsive.

You thought back to a conversation you overheard between the men in the fields while working. The way they were describing the acts they wanted to perform on their partners had you scrunch up your nose in disgust at the vulgarity of their words. Who would’ve thought you’d find yourself in a library chair, clenching your thighs at the thought of having this mysterious creature perform the same acts on you? But in your fantasy, his smile wasn’t sleazy and condescending, it was warm and inviting. His touch wasn’t revolting or careless, it was calculated and scorching. His words weren’t distasteful, they were hypnotising as he’d whisper just how beautiful you look unravelling yourself to him, free for him to take you.

“You okay?”

You jumped in your seat, slamming the book shut and almost dropping it before you swallowed the dryness in your throat, painfully aware of how your core was pulsing in time with your heartbeat. You turned towards the voice and noticed the librarian staring at you, an eyebrow raised to emphasise his question.

“Aizawa,” you mindlessly said. “Y-yeah, I’m fine. I was just, uh, reading quickly before heading home.”

“You seemed pretty engrossed in what you’re reading.” He checked his pocket watch. “It’s almost half past midnight.”

You’d been daydreaming for that long?

Aizawa’s eyes shifted from you to the books on the table. He leaned in a bit to see the titles better and you instinctively covered the book you were just reading, afraid he’d somehow figure out what you were thinking. He leaned back into his position and sighed, but didn’t comment any further before he turned around and started walking towards the front desk.

“Come. I’ll add those books to your ‘borrowed’ list then take you home. It’s very late and we have to close the library.”

You hastily stood up and started gathering the books from the table. “Ah, I’m so sorry! I completely forgot to check the time and I saw nobody was here so…” you trailed off, feeling guilty as you followed Aizawa through the bookshelves.

He spared you a glance before speaking again, “No need to apologise, I was here until late, too.”

You were both silent for a while as you reached the desk and he pulled out a thick notebook from one of the drawers. Your name had its own few pages with the amount of books you had been borrowing for so long, so he easily found it and looked up at you, waiting for you to tell him the titles you’d be taking home this time. You looked at all the books and their titles, reading them out loud. “Anthology of Love Poems”, “Myths And Muses” and lastly, “Of Myths, Love and Desire”. You hugged the books close to your chest, looking away bashfully as Aizawa scribbled the titles and his signature on the paper. He quickly glanced at you from underneath his lashes, still hunched over the desk and writing, before he looked back at the notebook and spoke:

“You seem to be very interested in romance lately,” he noted, but it almost sounded like a question to you.

“Not really.” You shifted your weight from one leg to the other, ashamed that it may be obvious what you were thinking, but even though Aizawa seemed unconvinced, he didn’t push the matter further. You were thankful, of course, that you didn’t have to awkwardly find an explanation other than ‘I’ve been fantasising about a mythological creature for the past few months’, which you reckoned would make you sound insane. Not only that, but you were aware how having any sort of lewd thoughts was viewed by society and you didn’t want to ruin the relationship you had built with Aizawa over the months.

Before making your way outside of the old building, you watched Aizawa close the notebook and safely put it back in its place before walking around the library to extinguish the oil lamps that were still dimly illuminating the place. Once he was done and joined your side again, he held the door open for you and you thanked him gently as you walked outside, the old door creaking the same as before when Aizawa closed it, locking it with a padlock and shoving the key in the pocket of his coat. He offered to hold your books for you and you refused with a smile, telling him he doesn’t even need to walk you all the way home.

“Nonsense,” he dismissed. “I can’t have you walk alone at night. Especially since I’m going that way, too.”

You said nothing in return, since insisting wouldn’t do much to convince Aizawa anyway. For the rest of your walk the silence between you was filled by the sound of crickets and grasshoppers, a symphony accompanied by the soft rustling of the leaves in the night breeze. The crisp air was a welcome change from the blazing heat you had to endure all day, and you felt yourself relax, tiredness finally catching up with you. With how distracted and increasingly more exhausted you were, you almost forgot to stop walking once you reached the gate of your yard. You politely thanked Aizawa once again for walking you home and wished him a safe journey to his own house before turning around, starting towards the gate.

“You know,” you heard his voice call out from behind you and you turned to look at him. He paused for a second, as if carefully choosing his next words. “You’re one of the library’s regular visitors and I’m glad you’re so interested in learning. But just don’t let it stop you from taking care of yourself.”

You blinked and wondered if the exhaustion showed on your face that obviously. It was clear you had gone to the library right after working for almost a full day in the vineyard, but in your defense you weren’t really planning on bumping into Aizawa.

You smiled softly. “Thanks. I’ll keep that in mind.” And with a wave, you disappeared beyond the gate, reaching your front door and opening it softly to not wake up your family.

Quickly but quietly, you made your way through the house, finally completing your daily routine. After you left your books safely in your room on your desk, you grabbed your nightgown and bathed yourself at last, albeit with cold water since you didn’t have the time or patience to light a fire to warm it up. Thankfully, the midsummer air was warm enough to not have you shivering as you enjoyed the fragrance of the handmade soap you had bought from a new shop in the town centre. Even so, the cool water was not enough to distract you from the undercurrent of lust still buzzing under your skin.

Not wasting any time, you quickly dried yourself and put on your nightgown so you wouldn’t catch a cold. You threw out the water you used and soon found yourself at the window of your room, opening it to let in the fresh night air and the calming sounds of the night critters and rustling of leaves. You looked down and noticed the tulips in your garden were closed up, deep in slumber as you should’ve been. But instead, your gaze drifted higher, along the bark of a tree and up its branches, until it landed on the clear sky. And just like all your recent nights — if recent is what you can call a few months of longing — you stared at the stars for the thousandth time, memorising the constellations and wondering which one would be him.

It was ridiculous. You knew it. But looking around, the world you lived in just could not compare to the worlds painted by all the books you had read. The people, their ambitions, morals and motivations, would never instil that level of wonder and awe in you because all that you could see in real people were mere fragments and never the full picture.

And men would never know how to seduce you, nothing ever worked quite like the written word. Perhaps you were destined to die alone, a disappointing outcome for your family that had been attempting to convince you to find someone to marry for a few years.

Your feet carried you towards your bed, the wooden floorboards from under your window creaking from your movements. You let yourself fall unceremoniously on the bed, but instead of wallowing in self pity, your body had other needs that you had to take care of first, judging by the insistent pulse between your legs, only growing stronger the more you tried to wait it out. You groaned in frustration and let your hand glide over your chest, across your abdomen, caressing your thighs and eventually diving between them, finally soothing the ache you’d been feeling for hours. You wondered how this mythological man’s hands would feel on your skin. They said that the pleasure he’d induce would be so intense it would make you lose your mind, but maybe that was what you wanted, to finally lose it with no remorse.

Your fingers rubbed your clit faster before dipping inside your entrance, impatiently chasing your release. You wondered how his would feel like, how good they’d fill you up, how he’d reach all the right spots within you as his lips kissed you passionately, whispering poetic filth into your ear. Your pace got faster, a hand groping at your chest and shallow breaths leaving your lips as you tried to keep quiet, ashamed of how you spent your nights recently, overcome by desire and lost in your lewd thoughts.

Eventually, your back arched, the coil in your stomach releasing through pulses of pleasure as you retreated your hand and stared at the stars. In your state of temporary euphoria, you could’ve sworn they seemed to shine just a little bit brighter. You turned on your side, only one thought on your mind as your body melted into the bed and your eyelids grew heavier under the weight of exhaustion, a thought you absentmindedly voiced towards the sky as you drifted off to sleep.

“I wish you’d come to me…”

❈

Your sleep was peaceful, soft breaths accompanying the gentle breeze flowing through your open window, caressing your body and soothing your tired muscles. The stars shone brightly in the night sky, moonlight descending into your bedchamber and for a second, from the depth of your slumber, through your eyelids, you could see a ray of light shining brighter for just a moment, causing you to stir in your sleep. And soon, once the light died down, the floor beneath your window creaked.

At the sound, you cracked your eye open just a tiny bit, your vision blurry from you coming down from dreamland, but once you saw the figure of a man standing by your window, your body shot up, arms straightening and pushing you into a sitting position. You would’ve reached for something to use as a weapon, but realisation dawned on your face once you saw a pair of wings attached to his back. Whoever you were looking at was not human, and yet you somehow knew what he was, in the same way the absurdity of dreams seemed natural while lost in sleep. Perhaps that was what he was in that moment, a mirage your drowsy imagination crafted after months of yearning.

You stared at the man, dumbstruck, unable to comprehend how his presence was even possible. His blood red wings were neatly tucked behind him, his loose satin shirt showing off a part of his chest before the material disappeared into his dark trousers. He had a regal appearance, but upon examining his face, you noticed something less refined and more... animalistic. Far from the princely visage described in countless poems and myths. His golden eyes looked sharp, observant and almost glowing, his hair was blown back and messy, and his face was not clean shaven, evident stubble adorning his chin right under an easy-going smile.

However, if there was one accurate descriptor from all the books you’d read, it was that he was insanely handsome. But other than that, he didn’t look like a fallen angel nor like a lustful demon. Rather, his wings, the way his brows furrowed and the dark markings around his eyes reminded you of...

“... Hawks.”

You saw his smile falter for a second, his brows turning up in confusion. You quickly realised you were thinking out loud and cleared your throat, attempting to ease the awkwardness you created and to calm the restless beating of your heart. When did it even start beating faster?

“Sorry, it’s just... Your wings and eyes… They remind me of the hawks I see on the fields sometimes.”

You heard him chuckle and felt a wave of heat suddenly coursing through your veins at the sound.

“No need for an apology. I’d say that’s very creative. Humans usually tend to compare me to other types of creatures, but I quite like the sound of it. In fact, you sort of remind me of a bird, too.”

He slowly took a few steps into your room, his sharp eyes raking over your body, committing every detail of you to memory, from the way your nightgown hitched up your legs from how you moved in your sleep, draping over you body like a cloth hiding the enticing beauty of a sculpture, to how your tense shoulders seemed to relax, eyes looking up at him in awe and curiosity. His smile grew bigger.

“With how gentle and charming you look, that white gown you’re wearing… You remind me of a dove.”

The wave of heat now overtook you completely at the sound of the word and you shifted uncomfortably, a shiver breaking down your spine and only further serving to confuse you. You realised what — or rather who he was. You knew the kind of effect he could have on humans. And yet, you were still a little surprised at the foreign sensations that were manifesting. Your fantasies never managed to get you this flustered. Through your confusion and nervousness, you managed to find enough words to string together a question.

“What are you doing here?”

“I answered your call.”

There was a pause as you tried to understand the meaning of his words. “My call?”

“Yes,” he voiced softly. “You called for me, right as you dozed off to sleep, and I answered.”

His responses were matter-of-fact and you noticed how his gaze drifted over to the desk beside him, the books you borrowed laying neatly on its surface. He looked at them for a moment before turning his attention towards you again.

“I can sense it, you know?” He watched the confusion swirl in your eyes, a smile still steady on his face, but this time it wasn’t friendly and polite. It was seductive. “Your desire. It’s why I heard your call so clearly from the stars.”

You pursed your lips together, embarrassed that you were caught red handed, and for the first time since you laid your eyes on him, you looked away. You heard him chuckle softly and it only made your frown deepen.

“No need to be ashamed, dove. It’s completely natural.” His expression softened and he tilted his head to the side as he leaned on the edge of your desk and crossed his arms over his chest, accentuating the muscles beneath his shirt. “It’s a shame, really, how humans lie to themselves about their nature.”

Your eyes shifted back to him. “What do you mean?”

He vaguely gestured with his hand in the air. “Well, should a fish feel ashamed for craving water? Should a bird feel ashamed of its need to sing? Should a human who hasn’t eaten in days be ashamed of their hunger?” He saw you turn your attention fully to him, as if answering him with a silent ‘no, of course not.’ He placed his hand back across his chest. “Then tell me, why are humans so ashamed of sex?”

You gasped at his choice of words, but the way he was looking at you, almost amused at your reaction, told you he didn’t actually need an answer. Not that he gave you a chance to say anything before he continued talking.

“The brutes you live among only speak of the filthy side of love-making. They paint a disgusting picture that would turn any person away from it.” He took a moment to observe your reaction, and you could see his sharp eyes darken. “But you, dove, you understand there is beauty in an all consuming fire, don’t you?”

You pressed your thighs together as he lowered his voice, the question almost a whisper, and that was enough of an answer on your part. Your mind immediately stumbled into the gutter, the image of his scorching touch on your skin at the forefront, but you were hoping he didn’t notice the way you swallowed thickly at the thought.

He did.

“People try to keep innocent humans like you away from monsters like me, specifically to maintain that purity of yours,” he continued, attention shifting slightly as his fingers brushed over the golden title of the book from your desk. “But in doing so, they deny you a fundamental birthright that all humans have.”

You almost gasped when his eyes fell on you again. In the shadows, they almost seemed to be glowing, hypnotising you, calling for you to fall deeper into them until you got lost in him. Your breath caught in your throat the moment he spoke again, voice low and seemingly reverberating through your very soul, igniting a familiar warmth in your core.

“The right to pleasure.”

He pushed himself off the edge of the desk, taking slow steps until he was in front of you. You shifted, your legs neatly tucked under you as you watched him reach out his hand as an invitation.

“I’m here to help you reclaim that right, if you’ll let me.”

You looked at his hand, considering his offer. You thought back to all the nights when you had to go to sleep frustrated because you couldn’t satisfy yourself with just the thought of him and your hands, so it only took you a few seconds of hesitation before you reached out, placing your hand in his. Your lips parted slightly in wonder as you felt the warm tips of his fingers glide from your palm to your wrist, feeling your skin. You were suddenly overcome by the urge to touch more of him.

He looked at you, observing the way you gently brushed your fingers across his wrist and palm. From the touch, the fact that he was indeed real and not just a figment of your imagination sunk in even more.

“Can you stand up for me, dove?”

You complied as he gently pulled you up by your hand, stepping on the wooden floor and closing the distance between you enough that your bodies were almost touching.

Suddenly, a few feathers detached from his wings and flew around you, pressing softly into your back and pushing you into him. You gasped as the distance between you closed abruptly, looking around at the feathers in surprise at how something that looked so soft and lightweight could have that much strength. Your eyes met his again in a silent question, and he smiled.

“I can control each feather,” his voice was soft and his warm breath fanned over your lips as he spoke. You felt your neck and face warm up at the closeness and his smile turned smug. “They can also do this.”

Swiftly, a feather climbed up to your chest and hardened like a blade, slashing the string holding the collar of your nightgown together and letting the fabric loosen on your shoulders. You gasped and quickly grabbed it before it could slide down any further and reveal more of your chest. Shooting him an indignant look, you frowned when he laughed softly at your reaction.

“Don’t worry,” he said, voice low as his hands climbed up to your elbows then found your waist, gently rubbing your sides. “You won’t be needing this gown for long.”

His lips brushed yours tentatively, and when you didn’t pull away, he fully leaned in to kiss you softly. He gently guided you, making note of your reactions. You enjoyed the feeling, it was as relaxing as it was exciting, and you wrapped your arms around his neck to pull him even closer. This only encouraged him to fully snake his arms around your waist, caressing your back and holding you flush against him. After a few seconds, he pulled away so you could both catch your breaths, before diving in again, this time allowing his tongue to carefully brush across your lower lip. You opened your mouth to grant him access and he deepened the kiss, tilting his head so he could caress your tongue with his.

Your breathing got heavier as the kiss went on, only becoming more fervent by the second. Your fingers dug into his shirt as you tried to follow and mirror his movements, but your mind was becoming foggy, hot blood surging through your veins and heating up your skin. Before you knew it, a small sound of enjoyment left your throat, one of your hands getting lost into his soft hair and the other holding onto his shoulder as if he would slip away at any moment.

Despite your desperate movements, he was in no rush, savouring your taste and each sharp breath you’d intake, each sound, each flutter of your eyelashes when you looked at him as he pulled away for air. How lucky to have a beauty such as yourself in his arms.

“Would you let me take this off?” He gently pulled at the fabric of your nightgown and you wondered for a second if he was just asking to be polite and give you the opportunity to refuse. You didn’t dwell on the thought, instead sliding the gown off your shoulders and letting it pool around your feet, shivering at the cool air touching your goosebump-covered skin. Maybe you should’ve felt shy being exposed in only your underwear, but something in the way his lust-filled eyes flickered with a certain warmth made you feel like you didn’t need to hide. Just as you imagined, his gaze wasn’t devouring in the way you were used to: having men look at you with an appetite one would attribute to mere prey. Beyond the hunger swirling in his amber eyes was a clear appreciation for you, as if he was the one honoured that you allowed him so close to you, closer than anyone before.

His gaze drifted across your body, taking you in much like an aesthete would take in a masterpiece, admiring every detail of your curves and edges, every flaw that made you real, until his eyes met yours again. He reached out and tucked a stray hair behind your ear, the act feeling a lot more intimate now that you were bare in front of him, his for the taking.

His hands found your waist again and he gently guided you backwards until the back of your legs touched the edge of the bed. You heard his whispered request for you to lie down and you followed, lowering yourself on the mattress so you were comfortably lounging on it, arms on either side of your head. He grasped one of your hands and brought it up to his lips, kissing your knuckles and moving upwards leisurely, kissing your wrist, the inside of your elbow, your upper arm, reaching your shoulder and making his way to your neck. You tried to mask a moan and your increasing nervousness with a laugh.

“You’re taking your time,” you noted, voice shaky.

He laughed shortly. “The night is young and I want to enjoy you for as long as I can.” He kissed your collarbone and moved to your other shoulder, his hands running up and down your sides. “I want to see, feel and taste every part of you.”

You gulped and before you could say anything else, his mouth moved to kiss your neck. His tongue darted out, licking your hot skin and nipping softly at it before moving lower and lower, eventually reaching your chest. He kissed and bit softly at the flesh until his lips closed around your nipple, licking and sucking gently, his hand gliding down your side to reach your thigh and press it closer to him. After a few seconds, he kissed his way to your other nipple, his tongue circling it and his other hand caressing your skin, moving upwards and kneading your chest. Your sighs of pleasure spurred him on, and with your hands combing through his messy hair, he continued lower, across your stomach, reaching your thighs and offering them the same affectionate treatment. The feeling of his hot tongue on your skin and the slight sting of his stubble contrasting it was gradually pulling you deeper into lust, your muscles tensing once his teeth gently grazed the flesh of your inner thigh before sinking in to leave a mark which he then soothed with a kiss. You were becoming restless, unconsciously tugging at his hair to urge him to give you what you really wanted, but he continued his torturously slow pace and deliberate touches, determined to get you to use your words to guide him.

“Hawks,” your whisper was almost desperate as he nipped at your skin.

The corner of his lips turned up at the sound of the nickname you had granted him. “Yes?”

The words you wanted to string together in an answer were there, locked away behind your shame and embarrassment. You were already almost fully naked in front of him and yet you couldn’t bring yourself to voice your desires for fear of what he might think. It was ridiculous, you thought — he was there for your pleasure, after all — but that didn’t ease your worry when you got all tongue tied trying to respond, to request something of him, to demand more. Your silence must’ve given away your hesitation, because he stilled his movements and raised his head slightly to look at you.

“You can tell me, I’m here for you. I’ll do anything you want me to.”

Anything. What a tempting word uttered by an even more tempting mouth. You knew exactly where you wanted it.

You brushed his hair back and softly tugged him forward, closer to your core. He got the hint and his sharp eyes narrowed, putting up a slight bit of resistance with a smug smile to see just how far you’d go.

“Hawks,” you repeated firmly, starting to get frustrated.

“Yes?”

You swallowed the lump in your throat. “I need your tongue on me.”

“I know.”

You had no time to be annoyed when two of his feathers detached from his wings to rip the last piece of cloth remaining between the two of you to shreds, finally revealing your dripping cunt to his hungry eyes. You would’ve closed your legs at the intensity of his gaze, had they not been kept spread wide open by a few more feathers so he could properly drink in the display. You thought you just imagined the wicked glint in his eyes when they flickered to your flustered face, but any doubt about it was soon wiped away when you felt yet another feather join the others by swiping across your heat, eliciting a gasp from you.

“You’ll have my tongue where you want it in due time.” He leaned back, supporting his weight with his arms, to stare at your whole body. “Until then, I’d like to enjoy this a little longer.”

You let out a soft moan at the sudden feeling of his feathers on your body. Their touch was firmer than you expected, and aided by how hot and sensitive your skin felt, each touch was more intense than the last. He concentrated the most movement against your clit and your nipples, listening to every sound you made, watching every reaction and minute change in your expression to properly adjust his speed and pressure. He tilted his head, eyes trained on you, but you couldn’t keep yours open from his intense scrutiny and from how your mind was slowly losing control, sinking into pleasure. Between blinks, as you were avoiding direct eye contact, you noticed the tent in his trousers and the fine sheen of sweat glinting in the moonlight across the part of his chest that was exposed. You noted how he was still fully dressed and for some reason, having him watch you like this, hypnotised, focused only on you, brought a shiver down your spine, goosebumps blooming across your skin as you threw your head back when he touched you just right.

“So gorgeous,” you heard him breathe out. “So good for me.”

Through the haze of your mind melting, you could only manage to let out a strangled laugh. “Shouldn’t I be doing something, too?”

He chuckled and sped up his feather’s movement against your clit, pushing it harder into you and occasionally teasing your soaking entrance. With a yelp, you reached down reflexively to stop it before two new feathers joined the fray and pinned your hands on either side of your body as you arched your back.

“You don’t need to do anything,” he said, voice low and dripping with desire. “Like I said, I’m here for you. Tonight is about you, so don’t hold back.”

“I-I don’t know…” you muttered. You didn’t have any plan on where to go with the sentence, a million thoughts rushing through your mind so fast they were melding together into a cacophony that was slowly being overtaken by the growing pleasure in the pit of your stomach. Your hips started to move on their own, walls clenching around nothing, and through your foggy vision you could see Hawks, his lips parted and chest raising and falling with each shaky breath he took. His pupils were blown wide, entranced by the way your body moved under his feathers. When they flickered upwards to look at your face, you let out a loud moan and he gripped the sheets at the sound, swallowing his saliva.

“You don’t need to know, you don’t need to think. You just need to feel.” His hand brushed against his thigh, travelling higher to palm at his erection. “Just do whatever comes naturally.”

Your heels dug into the mattress, fingers gripping the sheets beneath you and lips parting to let soft moans flow out of your throat at the feeling of his feathers running over your sensitive spots. The sound of his sighs of pleasure only pushed you further towards the edge, aching for release.

“I can feel it,” he said in a low, raspy voice, and your blurry vision shifted towards him with a questioning look. “My feathers. I can feel through them. I can feel how wet you are for me.”

He leaned forward, hands caressing the back of your thighs and taking the place of his feathers, keeping you spread for him as he stared at the one working on your clit. He lowered his head, retracting his feather and inhaling your intoxicating scent, heaving a shaky sigh across your bare skin which sent a chill down your spine. His tongue darted out and he gave you a soft lick with its tip, pulling a sound of surprise out of your chest before he pressed his tongue flat against your core and properly tasted you. A groan rumbled in his chest, reverberating on your heat as he fervently licked at your entrance, occasionally sucking on your clit. Your thighs shook, muscles tensing when the tip of his tongue pushed past your entrance to fuck you, his nose brushing against your clit.

“You taste so good,” his voice was muffled and breathy from between your legs. “A whole eternity I’ve been deprived of this, fuck. I can’t get enough of you, dove.”

The lewd sounds he was making as he fucked you with his tongue and tasted you like a man starved should’ve embarrassed you, but you were too far gone to care about anything but reaching your climax. Soon, your walls fluttered around his tongue, back arching as the tension in your stomach snapped, sending a tidal wave of pleasure across your body. You shivered in his arms and he groaned at your release, lapping up everything you had to offer him until the shaking in your muscles subsided.

As you were coming down from the clouds of euphoria, he opted for planting sweet, soothing kisses across your thighs. Once you calmed down enough to look at him, he smiled up at you.

“Was that good?” Still catching your breath, you could only nod at him. “I’m glad. Do you want to stop here?”

You were silent for a moment, weighing your options and their outcomes. You had been fantasising about this moment for so long it would be foolish to stop. Besides, his touch, his voice, the way he looked at you made you feel like refusal couldn’t be an option in any circumstance. Softly, you shook your head and his smile widened. You could’ve sworn his eyes shone just a little bit brighter in the moonlight.

His fingers brushed across your cheek. “I’m afraid you’ll have to tell me exactly how you’d like me to continue, then.”

You stammered, trying to find the right words to respond. You swallowed the lump in your throat that was locking away your voice and looked at Hawks, placing your now free hands on either side of his face to run your fingers across his cheeks.

“Hawks,” you spoke, gathering the confidence you needed to make your demand. This time, it was easier to find the right words, and you briefly wondered if his powers had something to do with how bold you were feeling. “I want you to fuck me.”

His wings fluttered from behind him as he licked his lip. “How vulgar,” he teased, mouth brushing against yours. “I really like it when you use your words, dove. Why don’t you keep letting me know how good I’m making you feel with that pretty voice of yours, hm?”

His fingers brushed against your cunt, rubbing your clit, and you gasped at the sensation. He closed the distance between you and kissed you passionately, his chest pressed against yours, the smooth fabric of his shirt rubbing on your sensitive nipples as you wrapped your arms around his neck to hold him close. You could taste yourself on his tongue and your head was spinning once again, hips jerking once he teased your entrance.

“So responsive,” he noted, not pulling away from your mouth. “Makes me want to see all of your reactions.”

One of his fingers slowly pushed inside you and you realised you were right: your fingers could never compare to his. He pumped slowly, teasingly, revelling in your kiss and the sounds he was pulling from you with each movement. He pushed another finger in as you attempted to move your hips in search for more friction, but his weight was holding you down and forcing you to accept the pace he set. You whined into his mouth and he chuckled, pulling away from the kiss slightly.

“Impatient, are we?”

“Please, Hawks!”

“Already begging and I haven’t even started. How greedy.” He leaned in and planted a kiss against your ear. “If you’re so pliant now when I’ve only gotten my fingers inside you, I wonder what you’ll do once I properly fuck you with my cock.” You let out a soft noise as your walls clenched around his fingers in anticipation. He groaned and cursed under his breath at the feeling. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Fot me to fuck you nice and deep, feed into that need you’ve been feeling for so long?”

He licked at your earlobe and left a sloppy kiss under your ear as you moaned. You gripped his shirt and pulled at it, desperate to feel his skin on yours. “Take it off, wanna feel you.”

He chuckled and you watched as a few feathers detached from his wings to help pull the shirt off of him, not even attempting to pull his hand away from your cunt. Instead, he slowly added one more finger to get you used to the stretch and you groaned as the slight sting soon turned into pleasure. You ran your hands over his abdomen, across his chest, rubbing his shoulders and eventually getting lost in his unruly hair, pulling him into another all-consuming kiss. His hot skin pressed against yours was driving you mad, the movement of his fingers in you was relaxed, just enough to have you on the brink of an orgasm but not letting you fall over the edge.

You whined again, out of breath. The sloppy sound of his fingers rubbing between your folds, the way he was occasionally curling them to reach your sweet spot and his low groans were sending you into a frenzy of irritation and arousal. You moved your hips again, hungry for more friction, and you detached your lips from his with a wet pop.

“Hawks, stop,” you breathed out, voice high with desire.

“Stop?” His movements stilled immediately, only for you to groan loudly and buck back into his fingers, digging your nails into his shoulder blades and leaving red marks on his skin. He bit his lip and smiled, knowing they’d soon be a reminder of your night together.

“You know that’s not what I meant!” your voice was exasperated as you felt your cunt pulse and clench, so close yet so far. “Stop teasing!”

The low chuckle vibrating in his chest made you shiver as he resumed his slow pace, your mouth opening in pleasure.

“I don’t think I’ll let this happen so easily. I love getting you all hot and bothered like this.” He grunted and fucked his fingers into you deeper, earning a sweet moan from you. He deliberately pulled all the way out from you before slowly pushing back inside to amplify the squelching sounds of your cunt. You felt your face burn in embarrassment. “Mm, do you hear that? Do you hear how wet you are for me? I bet I could slide right in.”

You finally gave in to your self-consciousness and covered your face with your hands, trying to hide away from him. He chuckled softly, finding your shyness adorable, and slowly moved your hands with his free one so he could give you a charming smile as he watched that cute expression of yours. He leaned his forehead against yours and pulled his fingers out of you, earning a soft whine of disapproval from you as he gripped your hips.

“Do you still want me to fuck you, pretty bird? Want me to make that ache of yours go away?” You felt the head of his cock rub against your entrance and you gasped. “I promise I’ll make you feel so good.”

You nodded quickly, too impatient and lost in pleasure to use your words, and he slowly pushed into you. A scream got caught in your throat at the stretch and he buried his face into your neck, groaning at how divine you felt around him. After a few shallow pumps in and out to get you accustomed with his intrusion, he finally bottomed out and let you catch your breath before he set a steady pace, raising his head to watch your face contort in pleasure and scanning for any sign of discomfort.

Your hands went to his back as you moaned, leaving a new set of scratches on his shoulder blades to which his wings fluttered. His chest was pressed into yours, allowing him to feel your frantic heartbeat. He felt so good inside you, filling you up and hitting all the right places which you never even hoped to reach. The new sensations were too much to bear, and soon you bit on his shoulder as you came around him hard, your walls clenching on his length. He groaned at the feeling and didn’t give you a single moment of respite , wrapping his arms around your legs and throwing them on his shoulders, pressing you deeper into the mattress as he continued his pace.

“C’mon, dove,” he rasped, his voice breathless and dripping with desire as he pressed his lips onto yours. “Can you hold on just a little longer? For me?”

Your mind and body were melting, jolts of electricity surging through your now tired muscles. Your blood felt like liquid fire as your heart pumped it through you in a frenzy, and from the amalgam of sensations you felt the gentle touch of one of his feathers on your clit. Your back arched and the room felt like it was either floating or simply disintegrating around you — you couldn’t even tell anymore. Your vision was a kaleidoscope of moonlight and crimson red, specks of golden light from his hair and spellbound eyes coming in and out of focus as your eyes fought to stay open. By the time you felt him release inside of you, filling you with warmth, you had already lost count of how many times you came, pleasure bubbling under your skin and reaching deep within the marrow of your bones like boiling magma under the earth.

Exhausted, you felt him rise from you, pulling out, and you frowned at the sudden feeling of emptiness he left behind, the cool air of the night now directly hitting your sweat covered body and making you shiver. He quickly pulled you into his arms and wrapped his wings around you to shield you from the cold, pressing his lips to the top of your head and muttering sweet praises through soft kisses.

He stood there for a few minutes until he was positive you were dozing off, then pulled up the covers to tuck you in, retreating from your arms. You frowned in your sleep and stirred, letting out a small groan which he shushed softly, caressing your hair in a reassuring manner. You heard him shuffle around your room and you were more than happy to just let him mind his own business. After all, you were far too tired to question his actions and just wanted to let yourself fall into a deep, relaxing slumber.

Hawks walked around the bed, watching as you finally settled into a comfortable position, your breathing back to its steady rhythm. His gaze shifted towards your desk once again and he couldn’t help but open one of the books. When he was met with sugary declarations of devotion and filthy love-making laid down onto paper in verses, their main focus being the myth describing him, he couldn’t help the smile that spread on his lips. Oh, sweet dove. Your yearning truly knew no bounds.

Silence surrounded you for what felt like a few minutes, broken only by the soft sounds of your breathing. You almost thought he had already left before you heard the shuffling of his feathers dragging on your floor as you fully gave into your exhaustion and fell asleep. He climbed on your windowsill, stopping for a moment before he looked back at your sleeping form over his shoulder, his wings obstructing the lower half of his face, allowing only his eyes to peek over, alight with warmth.

“Sleep well, dove,” he whispered one last time before light engulfed him and soon enough, he was just a ray of feathers and light growing distant in the night sky.

❈

You must have gone insane.

Basked in the late morning sun, you stared incredulously at the nightgown that was covering your body. Your hands went up for what was probably the third time to check the string was actually still intact and snugly tied across your chest. You pulled up the bottom of the gown, checking your underwear — untouched, not even a hint of a tear. And the parts where your skin should’ve been blooming with bruises from love bites were the same as they were the previous morning, blank. Like nothing ever happened.

Just what the hell were you dreaming?

You brought your face into your hands, screaming internally as the images from what you assumed happened last night, but now weren’t so sure anymore, kept flooding your mind. You bit your lip to stop a smile from showing, torn between the shame of having offered yourself so unabashedly to what was essentially a stranger and the excitement still buzzing beneath your skin at how incredibly good it felt. You slowly slid your hands over your arms and sides, following the searing trail his hands had danced across the night before. Every word and every touch felt too vivid not to tremble at the mere thought. You wondered if it was all really just a dream. And if it wasn’t, you wondered if he would come again.

You were pulled out of your thoughts by the familiar sound of Mirio’s voice calling for you at the front gate, offering warm greetings to whatever relative of yours was outside in the yard and explaining he came to pick you up for work. You scrambled to get ready, but as you stepped outside your house your movements were mechanical, going through the motions of your established routine. Mirio tried to start a light conversation with you, but you seemed lost in thought, distracted. He frowned slightly when it became obvious that you only registered around half of the words he was telling you, almost worried that something might have happened after he dropped you off at the library the night before. An apology settled on the tip of his tongue but he swallowed it back, opting to leave you be for the time being. You did seem to have just woken up recently, after all, hair still unruly and eyes half lidded with tiredness.

The rest of your day was a blur, thoughts centred on only one thing — only one person — ignoring the majority of small talk your fellow workers tried to initiate. You worked as if possessed, joined the masses as they left the field at the end of the day like a lost soul and rushed to your bedroom at night, grabbing your books and opening them, scanning the pages for the thousandth time. Still, it was not enough, so you laid back into your bed like all other nights, except this time you once again stared at the sky as you drifted off to sleep, calling for him.

And he once again descended for you.

You were insatiable, and his visits soon became a routine. During the day you sought him out through pages of poems and your own thoughts as you worked and worked, awaiting the time you’d finally return home to his embrace at night. He was willing to offer you whatever you demanded, letting you use him as you saw fit to explore and learn, to feel and consume, to defile and be defiled. A safe haven for all your fantasies to manifest.

You finally understood why all women were described as addicted to him in all the books you read. How could one not be? Even when you closed your eyes you could still see his warm expression, his sharp eyes staring into your soul, you could still feel the faint trace of his fingers on your skin and the sweet sting of pleasure and yearning between your legs where he spent most nights.

He began to see it, too. That sweet, sometimes teasing smile you’d turn towards the stars when you leaned on your windowsill, knowing he could see you. Your kisses and touches got bolder and more confident with each passing night. You should’ve been the one under his spell, and yet there he was, smiling dumbly at you and every expression of yours, every movement, every word.

He should’ve treaded more carefully.

How many nights had it been already? Ten? A hundred? A thousand? He didn’t keep count, a being cursed with eternity never does. And yet, he kept finding himself counting the seconds until he got to see you again in the dead of night. Days became agony, when in the past they’d used to pass in the blink of an eye, now they felt like the infinite void he was all too familiar with. He realised how deep he’d gotten himself when he spared a glance from the skies to check on you, quickly making a daily habit of observing you in your element, learning your routine and all the people you were close to. When he saw you next to Aizawa on yet another nightly walk to your home from the library, he couldn’t deny the pain that clutched at his heartstrings and pulled until he once again descended into your bedchamber at your call.

He could never deny you. He could never turn his back to your comforting touch, could never turn his face away from your sweet kisses, could never refuse to hold you until you fell asleep in his arms. You were too tempting, too sweet, too lovable to reject. Too unattainable. And he was too selfish.

After having spent so long mapping your body with his hands and lips like the atlas of heaven, his fantasies began evolving into more than just you chanting his name from under him as he claimed you yet again like the lustful beast he was. In the hours spent anticipating the time you’d beckon him again he liked to imagine you telling him about your day, about your happiness and sorrow, talking to him about your favourite books and all the characters that you loved, introducing him to all facets of your being that he couldn’t possibly have met while tangled in the sheets. He started to ask more personal questions at the outset of your encounters, to leave sweet notes attached to his feathers on your desk so you could wake up to them in the morning. He started craving more than just your body and your attention.

But he knew humans were creatures capable of finding boredom even in the most exciting of things once they became routine, and he couldn’t condemn you to an eternity of being by his side. After all, lust could only fuel your relationship so far before you’d crave stability and love. You deserved better than that, you deserved to be with a human that could make you happy, someone that could understand your wants and needs. Someone like Aizawa.

He watched with a frown as you opened the gate and bid farewell to Aizawa, who watched you until you were safely inside your home before he continued his walk back home. You looked exhausted once you called him to join you under the covers, immediately clinging onto him and burying your face in his neck, kissing and nipping at his skin. He wanted to tell you to stop and rest, but whenever he did so in the past you’d just ignore him or silence him with a kiss. He had to bite his tongue every time — he was there for you, after all. A tool like many others so you could relax and experience highs like never before.

That didn’t mean he wasn’t worried sick about you.

He knew what being exposed to him for so long could do to the human mind. He also knew you knew, with how much you had read about him. You were showing symptoms that people around you began to point out. Exhaustion, inability to focus for too long, lack of appetite. You were sick, but you didn’t care to notice it, not when your family called the village doctor to check on you, not when Mirio kept bringing you food at work each day with a worried expression, not when Aizawa banned you from being in the library after a certain hour so you wouldn’t collapse, not even when Hawks kept looking at you with a concerned frown whenever he’d enter your room and hesitating to even approach you.

Soon, hours melted away and you fell asleep in his arms after yet another night of being all over each other. He softly ran his fingers through your hair, massaging your scalp, and stared at the books on your desk with a cold expression.

History was just repeating itself.

He realised that if he doesn’t soon stop, he’d end up with a broken heart or worse, with you losing your mind. So he stood up and plucked one of his feathers to use as a quill, and sat at your desk to leave you one last note. A request of sorts, but more so a promise. He wanted to give you a choice before it was too late.

After he carefully laid down his words onto the paper, he stood up and spared you a glance, eyes shadowed by sadness. He turned towards your window and the floorboards creaked as he took flight into the night sky. His red feather remained on the desk, on top of his note, a confession weaved through verses of an oath he didn't have the heart to not take. At the end of the day, he may have been an eternal being superior to humans, but he was still weak, always crumbling at your feet. Always wanting more.

Endlessly, my love endures,

My soul, mind and body yours.

Your love a cure, your name a prayer

Soothing the curse I must bear.

Though I’m far, your presence lingers,

The gentle touch of your soft fingers,

The promise of your voice tomorrow

Lulling away all my sorrow.

Endlessly, our love endures,

My existence claimed as yours,

And may our stars align

I will come to claim what’s mine.

❈

“I wish to be rid of my eternity.”

“Spare me your asinine jokes, Keigo.”

Hawks frowned, raising his wings and fluttering them quick enough to close the distance between him and the imposing man sitting on a velvet chair at the far end of the hall they were in. The marble floors reflected the multicoloured light bleeding through the stained glass windows, making the chandelier held up by chains on the tall ceiling glint a stunning rainbow. The man, engulfed by flames, fixed Hawks with a cold, unimpressed look, his muscular arms crossed over his chest. Hawks simply mirrored his stare.

“Does it look like I’m just joking, Endeavour?”

“I can never tell when it comes to you.”

“As if,” he scoffed. “Don’t look at me like I’m merely a child throwing a tantrum. I know very well what I’m doing.”

“No, you don’t,” the man’s voice resounded through the hall. He stood up and snarled at Hawks, his eyes narrowing. “You’re a fool, you’re letting yourself get carried away by a mortal. Have you forgotten your purpose?”

“You mean my curse?”

Endeavour sighed, raising a hand to pinch the bridge of his nose in annoyance. “Call it what you want. You still can’t deny that a being like you has no business walking among mortals. You know very well that our worlds are far too divergent to work out.”

“That’s for me to worry about. You just need to let me go.”

“You’re talking as if I want to keep you here,” he scrunched his nose. “Could use the peace and quiet of your absence, but we can’t all have what we want.”

“Then I’ll take my leave.”

He turned around and raised his wings again, ready to take off, before Endeavour’s voice rang behind him:

“And just what is your plan, Keigo? You know you can’t undo eternity. Turning you into a mortal is an impossible feat even for me.”

“That may be true, but the opposite isn���t.”

“So you’re just going to curse a human? Is that it?”

Hawks grit his teeth, his frown deepening. He dug his fingers in his palm. “I thought you called it a purpose.”

The flames burning across Endeavour’s body flared up. He glared at Hawks, completely done with the pointless back and forth they were having.

“And what will you do when her mind can’t comprehend it?” He took a step towards Hawks, letting his arms drop to his sides. “What will you do when she goes insane from the responsibility and suffering that comes with being immortal?”

Hawks’s shoulders slumped slightly and he looked down at the ground, towards the place where you most likely were, below the skies. Endeavour knew. He knew about you and your encounters, and he knew about Hawks’s infatuation with you. But the life of immortals was ruthless by default.

He had grown accustomed to Hawks's habit of frolicking amongst humans. He was aware of the way Hawks would cure his boredom and loneliness by joining mortals in their beds, often ending in heartbreak on one side or the other. The roles of spirits such as them were never enough of an excuse for how dreadful it was to roam the Earth in isolation until the end of time.

He took one more step towards Hawks, his tone still stern.

“Wouldn’t it be better for everyone if you just let her live her life next to another mortal? I’m sure she’d be happier.” Hawks narrowed his eyes. “Just give up, Keigo. Being with her is impossible, you already know this. She’s not the first mortal you fell in love with and she won’t be the last.”

Hawks turned towards Endeavour abruptly, his wings unfurling. With the way his pupils dilated and eyes widened, he looked almost predatory.

“That’s not for you to decide.”

Endeavour didn’t flinch and continued to look at Hawks with the same unfazed glare. Even as he turned back around and spread his wings, taking flight as a beam of light onto the sky and disappearing like lightning, he didn’t stop him. Nothing could.

Nothing except you.

But you were unaware of what Hawks was thinking, none the wiser even after reading his note over and over again. At first you found it sweet, romantic, a slight shiver finding its way down your spine from how delighted you were at his confession. His notes were always sweet, but they were always focused on compliments towards you, rarely ever hinting at how he felt.

But once he stopped visiting you the day he left that note, you began to look at it differently. Perhaps you overstepped? Was your lust so powerful that even a roving spirit known for indulging in carnal sins got overwhelmed? Maybe he got bored of you and all your fantasies. Maybe you didn’t satisfy him the way he did for you. But then why leave a note basically offering himself to you? You didn’t understand and it frustrated you.

You found yourself spending more time at the library, avoiding Aizawa so he wouldn’t immediately tell you to go home and rest. You tried to read and reread any books you could find about the myth of The Flyer, anything that would tell you how his encounters with humans would end. You already knew that all humans visited by the spirit would seek help in banishing him from someone with expertise in the paranormal before they were consumed by insanity, but nothing was ever said about the spirit leaving on his own accord.

Were you really that off-putting?

You shook your head, clearing your mind of your insecurities and stood up to leave the library empty handed and with more questions than answers.

It had already been three weeks since Hawks stopped visiting you and you were starting to feel the coldness of your bed creep into your heart as well. The notes he left were all carefully kept in a notebook that you often opened whenever your longing for his presence got too unbearable. You were going through phases, at first you were confused, then you spent a few nights crying yourself to sleep at how he suddenly disappeared. You experienced anger, going up on a quiet hill in the dead of night to shout your frustrations to the skies, hoping he was still there, still watching over you. Your symptoms were supposed to be getting better after not interacting with him for so long, but instead they just progressively got worse. Your energy was constantly drained and you had no power to even pretend to be okay anymore. The one figment of a fictional world that you were able to experience and now he was gone, like a simple mirage in a desert that disappears once you get too close, leaving you to live a boring, unfulfilling life once again.

You realised this was more than just the thrill of having a supernatural creature want you when you found yourself missing his embrace after a particularly bad nightmare. You didn’t care about your physical desires anymore, they were extinguished to mere dying embers when you reached the conclusion that he may never come back. The ache in your core was quickly replaced by the ache in your heart and the jarring realisation that you were in love.

You missed him. His smile, his voice, his curious questions about your mundane life, his embrace, his warm eyes…

So you found yourself back at the top of the hill in the middle of the night when everyone else was sleeping, staring at the sky with a slight frown in your brow and biting softly on your lip. You paced around, unsure of how to start and what to say.

After a few moments, you stopped in your tracks and let out a heavy sigh. “Hawks… if you’re out there, I won’t ask you to come back. I’m just asking you to listen.” You looked down at your hands, your fingers intertwining in a nervous gesture before you looked back up at the stars. “I’m sorry if I did or said anything wrong. My intention wasn’t to push you away. It never was. I just…” A tear threatened to spill from your lashes as your voice cracked. You quickly composed yourself. “I just miss you. And I don’t mean your body or what we did together. I miss you. And if I never get to see you again, I just need you to know that… I love you. No matter how foolish or insane I sound for saying this, I have to get it off my chest. Even if I know you won’t ever feel the same.”

A light suddenly shone from the sky, reaching in front of you in less than a second like a thunderbolt. You flinched back and shielded your eyes from the brightness, slowly opening them and widening them at the sight before you.

Hawks was standing there, the same concerned look he had in the previous nights he visited you plastered on his face, pulling his brows in a frown. And yet, his eyes were kind, warm, looking at you with the kind of affection one grants the person they missed the most. You mindlessly took a few hurried steps towards him and he met you halfway with open arms, catching you and holding you close to him as you both wrapped your arms around each other. You clutched his shoulders, fingers digging into his shirt as if he would disappear the moment your hold on him were to waver.

“I’m sorry, dove,” his voice was soft, quiet enough for only you to hear. “I can’t do this to you.”

“What?”

Confused, you tried to pull back but his hand kept your head pressed against his shoulder. He couldn’t look you in the eyes without breaking, so he chose to avoid your gaze instead.

“I can’t keep doing this to you, it’s too dangerous. Eventually it’ll wear you out. You’ve seen the signs, you know the effect a creature like me has on a human,” his voice shook as he took in a breath. “If anything happens to you because of me, I might go mad. I would never forgive myself. We have to stop meeting like this. We have to stop.”

Your lip trembled and you gripped the fabric of his shirt tighter, wrinkling it between your fingers. His hold on you tightened ever so slightly when he felt that.

“You’re not even going to acknowledge what I just said?”

It was his turn to be confused. This time he didn’t stop you when you pulled away. Your glossy eyes and defeated expression pulled at his heartstrings and he had to resist the urge to kiss your sadness away.

You spoke up again, your voice shaky, “I said I love you. I love you, Hawks, I…” you trailed off, your eyes searching his for any hope to cling onto. “This is more than just lust for me and I don’t care if it ruins me because the alternative is a million times worse.”

“Dove-”

“One night,” you quickly cut him off. “One more night is all I ask for. We don’t have to do anything, I just need you here with me.” You leaned your forehead against his and ran your fingers through the soft tufts of hair at the back of his head. He visibly gulped. “Please, stay with me.”

Any shred of self control and willpower dissolved the moment those whispered words left your sweet lips. He closed the gap between you and kissed you with hunger and desperation, pulling you so flush against him that it seemed he wanted to become one with you, to burrow in your bones and spend the rest of his eternity within your heart.

He started muttering between kisses, each heated peck accentuated by declarations of “I love you”, “I don’t deserve you”, “I don’t want to hurt you”, “I’m scared.” He was pouring his vulnerability into your lungs with each stroke of his tongue, each hot breath mingling with yours, each caress of his hand on your back, and you gently cradled his face in your hands, urging him to slow down and pull away so you could look at him.

“I’m not scared,” you said softly, rubbing your thumbs on his cheeks soothingly. You smiled at him. “As long as I’m with you, I’m not scared of anything.”

He looked at you like you were a deity showing itself to a sinner to offer mercy, holding you like you were a treasure, his entire world. Of all humans he had met and laid with, you were the only one who didn’t turn away in disgust and fear after a while. The only one who leaned into his touch and didn’t think of him as a filthy beast that eats hearts for breakfast before throwing the humans away like used tools. The only one who didn’t run the opposite way and banished him so they could be free of his temptations and instead love other mortals like them.

The only one who ever returned his feelings.

He leaned in once again, kissing you like a promise, a vow of his love for you. He was desperate, pulling at your clothes, his forcefulness enough to have you lose your footing until he gently lowered you on the dewy grass, pulling away so he could look into your beautiful eyes again.

“Swear yourself to me,” he requested, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “I know a monster like me has no right to ask an angel like you this, but I'm all yours and I want you to be mine. Please, I need to know you want this.”

“Hawks-”

“Keigo,” he corrected. “My name… My real name is Keigo.”

You smiled sweetly. “Keigo.” God, he could’ve combusted right there from how good his name sounded on your tongue. You grabbed his chin gently and ran your thumb over his lower lip. “I was sworn to you the moment you stepped into my room.”

In an instant his lips were back on yours, taking your breath away. The passion coursing through both of you was no longer simply carnal, there was something more in the way you were running your hands over each other, something akin to a silent vow of loyalty, a reassurance that you both felt the same.

His wings spread, shielding you from the view of the stars as his hands slowly ran under your clothes to find your skin. You undressed each other with slight urgency, leaving your clothes on the soft grass aimlessly. His hands slid up your stomach and cupped your breasts, softly kneading them and rubbing your nipples with his thumbs.

You let out a moan and ran your hands over his arms, to his shoulders and down his back, rubbing at the base of his wings. He shivered under your touch and left a trail of wet hot kisses from the corner of your mouth to your neck, where he gently bit the soft skin to leave a mark before running his tongue over it to soothe the pain. Your intoxicating scent kept pulling him deeper under your spell, his hands now roaming all over your body, reaching your thighs and holding them up against his hips.

“Tell me what you want, dove,” he said, raising his head slightly to look at you.

“Just you,” you responded. “I don’t want to wait tonight. I just need to feel you.”

“Anything you want.”

His hand slid up your thigh and dipped between your legs, finding your clit and pressing down on it with his fingers to rub soft circles onto it. You whined and bucked your hips, trying to urge him to stop stalling and just fuck you properly, but he peppered loving kisses on your face to calm you down, softly saying that he wants you to be ready for him. Once he was satisfied with how wet you got, he grabbed his cock and pumped it a few times, spreading his precum on his length before rubbing the tip at your entrance. He pressed his lips onto yours again in a loving kiss just as he pushed into you slowly. You moaned into his mouth and kissed him back, hugging him close to your body.

He set a slow, sensual pace that had you seeing stars even as he blocked your view of the night sky with his wings. He’d been inside you many times, but even while experiencing intense highs in his arms, it never felt quite this loving, this safe, this intimate. You were holding each other like you were going to vanish at any second, like you were each other’s lifelines, your eyes closed in bliss as you focused on each thrust of his into your cunt.

“Look at me,” you heard him demand breathlessly.

You opened your eyes and stared into his amber ones, burning bright just for you in the fires of love and passion. A feather came to wrap around your ring finger snugly and you couldn’t help but chuckle at the action, his lips tugging into an amused smile in response. He gave you one more kiss before he sped up his pace. Your lips parted to let out a moan as he started hitting that sweet spot inside of you, groaning at how you squeezed around him.

“All these years,” he panted through each thrust, voice low and heavy with desire, “these centuries, away from you… I never realised how agonising they were until I met you.”

You moaned his name, a sweet sound that he echoed with a whine when your walls clenched. The way he was looking at you, transfixed and affectionate, was a stark contrast to the obscene sounds your bodies were making as they connected.

You combed your fingers through his hair and pulled him closer, lips crashing against each other in a devouring kiss. You slid your tongue into his mouth and revelled in the way his hips stuttered for a moment as a shiver ran through him. A gasp left you suddenly when you felt a feather of his on your clit, rubbing circles as his hand travelled your curves in paths he’d grown to know by heart.

He stood up straight, much to your displeasure, to properly watch your expressions morph. He lifted one of your legs over his shoulder to deepen the angle of his thrusts, leaving sloppy kisses on it as your breath got caught in your throat. You felt your stomach flutter with butterflies at his affectionate pecks, before dropping as the coil in it tightened, signalling that you were close to your release. You threw your head back and didn’t even bother to find the words to tell Keigo you were approaching the edge. Not like you needed to, anyway. He could tell by how your muscles tensed and how your walls pulsed around him, pulling him in and under your spell.

His wings shook, feathers ruffling like leaves in the wind, and he leaned in, letting your leg drop off his shoulder so you could wrap them both around his waist.. His lips grazed yours, heavy breaths melding together as he pressed his forehead into yours.

“Come with me,” he breathlessly demanded, and even through the haze of your scorching bodies pressing against each other, you recognised the vulnerability in his voice. You understood the real meaning of his words hidden in a phrase he often whispered to you at the height of pleasure — join me in eternity.

You were ready.

You closed the gap between the two of you, a wordless affirmation to his request, and held him as your body shook, back arching and pressing your chest into his as you soared through your orgasm. Your vision blurred, and for a second you felt as if your soul was leaving your body from the intensity. The only sounds reaching your ears were your moans and him chanting your name like a prayer.

He was not far behind, only lasting for a few more pumps into your sweet cunt before tripping over the edge, groaning in a hungry kiss whilst waves of pleasure crashed over him and made goosebumps bloom on his skin. He emptied himself inside you and you felt how his cum and your arousal were dripping out of you with each lazy pump he gave as you both rode out your orgasms. Eventually, he gently lowered his body fully on yours, still inside you, and pressed his head on your chest to listen to your fluttering heart while you both tried to catch your breaths.

He felt you kiss the top of his head sweetly as you held him close.. He grabbed your hand, gently caressing it and staring at his feather still wrapped around your ring finger. He smiled, bringing your hand to his lips for a kiss.

“Can we stay like this for a while?” you asked, gently combing your fingers through his soft locks. He melted in your embrace.

“We can stay like this forever if you want to.”

You smiled. “I like the sound of that.”

You closed your eyes, relishing the feel of his warmth against you, listening to his soft, calming breaths. You felt like you were in heaven, finally happy that you were back in his arms with the promise of remaining so for many years to come. You were sure that everything would be okay as long as you were together with Keigo, the man you had come to love, the man who couldn’t wait to spoil you and shower you in his affection now that he had no reason to hold back. You were ready to spend the rest of your eternity beside him.

Right where you belong.

❈

My dove, with dawn fast approaching

So are you my thoughts encroaching,

For when dusk returns in place

So will I to your embrace.

When I do, kiss me, and then

Watch me fall for you again.

When you called upon my name

You promised my heart to tame.

All I do, your love commands.

All I am is in your hands.

And likewise, my crimson feather

Promises we’ll be together

When our stars align once more.

Together, forevermore.

[gulnarsultan]

more of yandere ragnar and his children

~ There are many options for meeting Ragnar.

Some of these options are:

Whatever the case, the moment Ragnar asks for you, you will be his. She will give you babies soon after she marries you. He needs heirs and he wants to prevent you from escaping. It's a strict rule to stay home when Ragnar goes on raids. You will take care of the house and children and wait for Ragnar to return. You stopped fighting after Ragnar kidnapped you and became pregnant with your first baby. You love all of your children so much. It's not their fault that their father is Ragnar. You do your best to give your children a good life. Ragnar always has a proud and arrogant grin on his face when you're pregnant. It will offer you the best of the loot. There will be virgin shields protecting you. Ragnar is obsessed with frying you by embarrassing you. No man is allowed to get too close and touch you. Anyone who hurts or upsets you will die at Ragnar's hands. He likes to spend time hugging each other. He gives you lots of hugs and kisses. He buys you a lot of jewellery, clothes and fabrics. He will always remind you that you are his precious Queen. He will train with your kids. He will teach them to defend themselves. Before going for the raid, he kisses your forehead and says he loves you without averting his eyes. Your children will likely inherit their father's tendencies. They will work as a team with their father.