#using a blanket for this because i need to go sleep now but truly bless.

[tragedia]

everyone i follow

[luvjunie]

— sleepover

pairing: e-1610!miles x fem!reader

contains: fluffff! jeff and rio being realistic parents, miles being stubborn per usual

summary: miles’ parents finally agreed to letting the two of you have a sleepover, on one condition. however, miles was never the best at following directions. wc: 1,630

New york. The city that never sleeps.

The faint murmuring of bustling cars and the habitual honking of horns seeped through the tight seal of the shut apartment window; ironic in the way it somehow lulled you. An imperfect melody you welcomed—also the same one deemed a nuisance by those foreign to the chaos that naturally assimilated to comfort the longer you remained in Brooklyn. It usually helped you slip into a slumber with ease—but now— was succeeding in its attempt of doing the exact opposite.

And when you heard Miles expel a weighted, disgruntled sigh; you were led to believe the two of you had more in common with each other apart from the fact that you both lived here.

After weeks and weeks of begging, and endless explanations as to why exactly he needed his girlfriend to sleep over when they wouldn’t even get to utilize the time spent together because they were supposed to be asleep, Miles had finally convinced his mom and dad to let the two of you have a sleepover.

Fun, right?

Yeah, well you thought it’d be. Until his mom insisted the two of you bring your pillows and blankets and fantasies of your life as a matured couple to the living room and sleep out there. Six feet away from each other. You guys were practically social distancing like it was 2019 all over again.

The curt reasoning she offered included something about her not wanting the two of you in his room alone at night; not that she thought her son would actually be dumb enough to do anything along those lines with her in the house. You loved Mama Rio, but even if you didn’t, it wouldn’t matter. This was her house, and that meant you had to follow her rules. The fact that you were even able to come over as much as you did was a blessing in itself, so you took everything else in stride.

Miles let you take the couch of course, and he was currently sprawled out on his back on the floor, a pillow tucked beneath his head as he studied the minuscule cracks in the ceiling as if they truly interested him. Scrolling through his instagram timeline had gotten old fairly quickly, and at 1:00AM in the morning, neither of you were really motivated enough for conversation.

You were more than grateful to spend a night with your boyfriend, but this wasn’t necessarily how you expected it to go. Whenever you guys would hang out during normal hours of the day, you’d always end up in his embrace, curled and cuddled into each other comfortably. Whatever movie or tv-show you’d put on in the background begging for the same attention you’d give each other. After growing used to such a routine, that was really the only way you could fall asleep at his house.

But alas, holding your pillow close to you instead of him would have to suffice, you decided, as you let your eyes close once again.

“Baby?” Miles called out into the darkness, lip chewed in anticipation.

Silence.

He’d said only a word but you knew better than to engage. A conversation would end up with the two of you in trouble in the morning, so you pretended to be asleep.

“I know you’re awake. I counted exactly three seconds between your last two breaths and when you’re asleep it slows down to five.”

You stifled a laugh, ultimately blowing your cover. “Okay, now that’s just creepy.”

“People who are asleep don’t laugh!” he quipped.

A smile snuck onto your lips and you hadn’t the heart to reprimand it, lids peeling back open to stare up at the same ceiling he was.

“Yes, Miles?”

“Can you not fall asleep either, or have I become an insomniac all of a sudden?” The question came with a sigh, long arms spread to their full wingspan as he tried to count how many full rotations the ceiling fan made in a minute. That was how bored he was.

You sighed disappointedly, toying with the frayed tassels on your blanket. A moue on your face. “No, I can’t fall asleep either.”

“I think I know why.” he sung the last word in suggestion, hands absentmindedly drumming against his abdomen.

“Miles,” you warned, letting your head fall to the side so you could stare at the top of his head and address him directly. “Your mom gave very specific instructions, and personally, I would like to return home to mine with my head still on my shoulders.” grumbling your response, you shoved down the urge to invite him up there with you like your mind was telling you to.

He propped himself up on an elbow at that, eyes immediately making contact with yours. Your first mistake was not looking away, because those pretty pools of hazel were already starting to convince you and he hadn’t even opened his mouth yet.

“But how is that fair?” he complained, sounding exasperated. “We take naps together all the time when you’re here, I just wanna cuddle with you.” he sulked, as if you were the one who’d come up with the rule. Never in a million years would you submit the both of you to this kind of torture. You loved falling asleep in his arms.

You rolled your eyes at him, “Well, yeah. But that’s during the day, when she can check on us anytime she wants to. I don’t think your mom wants us that close to each other at night for,” The last part of your sentence faded to a jumbled murmur as your gaze traveled back to the ceiling. “…obvious reasons.”

He impishly raised a brow as if he didn’t know what you were referring to, chin resting in the palm of his hand. With only the faded lights of the city to illuminate the living room, the cheeky smile on his face went unnoticed, though you could hear it in the tone of his voice, loud and clear.

“And what reasons are those?” Miles asked, feigning innocence. His long lashes blinking at you.

Hand smacking to your forehead, you recited a silent prayer, a plea for strength. It was beginning to look like you weren’t going to get yourself out of this. “You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

His hand gestured to the air, plainly. “Well obviously. But still, we’re not dumb. That’s why I always take you to the roof when we—“

“Miles Gonzalo Morales do not finish that sentence!”

He snorted at the squeak of your voice and you used your pillow to hide your heated face.

“This is not going to help us fall asleep.” your irritated statement was muffled from the fabric of the pillowcase.

He hummed. “Exactly, meaning there’s only one thing left to try.” Slow to catch on, you didn’t realize what he meant until you felt the couch dip from the weight of his knee.

A hand trickled up the exposed skin of your thigh and it stopped when it met your sleep-shorts clad hip, the pillow snatched from your face and tossed onto the floor where he previously resided just a second ago.

“What are you—?”

He hovered over you, one hand pressed into the cushion beside your waist to hold himself up. Your question fell short when he swiftly parted your legs with his other hand and comfortably slotted his body between your thighs. A relieved sigh escaped him, his cheek nuzzling into the soft of your chest when he laid on top of you. His favorite way to cuddle.

“Shhh, trying to sleep.” murmuring a dismissive answer to your query, he let his eyes flutter to a close and snaked his arms around your waist, forearms cradling the curve of your back.

Contrary to the fight you were putting up just a minute ago— your arm curled over the expanse of his shoulders, fingers idly twirling at the baby curls that dusted the nape of his neck, something you always did to help him fall asleep faster. He let out a low, satisfied sound and relaxed into you completely, his hold on you tightening. While a part of you wanted to protest, an even bigger part wanted to remain under him like this. His weight was comforting; made you feel secure in the way a weighted blanket did.

“Your mom is not going to be happy with us.” you reminded him, stretching your other arm down enough to grab your blanket and pull it up over the two of you.

“It’s worth it. I’ll happily take the blame,” he drawled sleepily, snuggling in closer to the kiss that grazed his forehead. “I love you…” The laggard pace to his words let you know he was already dozing off, and you smiled, fatigue finally catching up with you too.

“I love you, Miles.”

— extra scene

Jeff stood in silence, arms folded over his broad chest and lips puckered awkwardly. Rio occupied the space next to him, hands perched on her wide hips, fingers tapping against them and her jaw clenched in disapproval. Her expression was everything but amused at the scene in front of them. He stole a tactful glance at his wife every two seconds, silently trying to gauge how irritated she was without having to ask her.

Sometime during the night you and Miles had switched places, and now his lanky legs were draped over the arm of the small couch and you were on top of him, clung to his body like a wet T-shirt, face barely visible seeing as it was nestled into the crook of his neck. With his mouth hanging slack as he loftily snored, Rio felt her eye almost twitch while she stared down at her stubborn son, who seemed to have magically teleported from his assigned spot on the floor and into yours instead.

“Well, I coulda told’ya that would happen.” Jeff said quietly with a laid-back shrug, to which Rio responded with a back-handed swat to his chest.

“Ow!”

Through her aggravation she still kept her voice low as to not wake the two of you, eyes narrowed at her husband. “I am going to strangle this boy, Jeff. Dios ayudame. ¡Tu hijo nunca escucha! (God help me, your son never listens!)” she griped, gesturing towards Miles’ arm that was loosely circled around your waist. She tramped down the hall, hands tossed up in defeat while she grumbled something incoherent under her breath.

Lips downturned into an offended frown, Jeff coddled his chest with his palm and followed after her, voice kicked up an octave like a nagging child. “Why is he only my son when he does something you don’t like? We made him together!”

- please do not plagiarize, copy, or repost my works to other platforms!

likes, comments, and reblogs are much appreciated 💗

[surielstea]

A Fatherly Fear

Based on this request.

Pairing: Eris Vanserra x Fem!Reader

Summary: Eris has doubts about how good of a father he’ll truly be, Reader eases his mind.

Warnings: pregnant reader | mentions of abuse | mentions of manipulation | basic Vanserra childhood trauma stuff | hurt/comfort | fluff

1.8k words

I winced as a cold breeze entered my bedroom, huffing as I stirred from sleep and held the blankets to my chin as I shifted closer to my mate, who was always there to warm me up no matter the climate. The fire in his veins had been a blessing throughout the long winter months.

But his side of the mattress had been vacant. I squint one eye open, only to find ruffled sheets. I sit up and open both my eyes as I search for my mate in the dark room.

"Eris?" I murmured, rubbing at my eyelids with the heel of my palms.

When I receive no reply I quietly groan, slipping from the warm bed, padding towards the open balcony doors. That explained the chilling breeze.

I go to slide the glass door closed when I spot a familiar redhead staring out at the crescent moon in the sky, leaning against the railing of the balcony.

I frown and step out into the frigid night, immediately wanting to go back to our heated bed and bundle myself in the blankets, but he had already turned to look at me with despondent eyes and I knew there was no way I'd leave him out here.

"What are you doing awake?" I pace towards him, craving his fire. "Come back to bed," I wrap my arms around one of his biceps as I stare up at him.

He looks down at the golden signet ring in his hands, the one that had belonged to his father, and his father's father before him. "Couldn't sleep," He sighed, looking out at the green forest, vibrant under the moonlight. The smell of spring was unmistakable in the night-chilled mist.

I knew that Eris hadn't been sleeping well since the beginning of my pregnancy, I was unsure if that was because he was paranoid about my safety, or paranoid about becoming a father. I wish I could ease his mind about both.

I simply lean into him, his arm coming around my back as I laid my head on his chest. I watched the trees sway with the wind, and the stars twinkle in the night sky, I even spotted a doe trotting freely in the game park below us. I waited in the comfortable silence, letting him decide if he wanted to talk or not. Eventually, he broke our silence.

"My father," He began. "He used to beat me and my brothers with this ring on," He stated, holding the ring up and over the balcony. It was beautifully crafted, and no doubt solid gold. "I can still remember how cold it felt on my skin," He hummed, putting it back on his fourth finger.

I turned away from the railing, wrapping both my arms tightly around my mate, holding him close and bathing in the warmth he radiated.

I hated the idea of Beron still having an effect on Eris, on anyone living really. The late high lord would be rolling in his grave if he knew he was still tormenting souls.

"He's gone now," I say, propping my chin up onto his chest to stare up at him. "He can't hurt you," I brush a strand of loose hair from his eyes.

"No," He shook his head. "He can't," He placed his hands on my waist.

I cup my hands over his, smiling when I feel the chill of his wedding band. "I much prefer this ring anyway," I said, brushing my thumb against it.

He nodded, leaning down and resting his forehead against mine. "You should go back to bed, you need your rest," He murmured and I shook my head no, turning away from him and back to the rolling hills and mountains in the distance.

"You do too," I spoke stubbornly. "So we'll stay out here until you're ready to go back inside," I finalized, leaning back into his chest while he wrapped his muscular arms firmly around my waist.

The silence danced around us yet again, but it was an easy sort of quiet, the kind where crickets chirped and owls hooted in order to fill it.

"My mother used to tell me stories from the past, when my father was a better man," He began, tightening his hold around me, warming me to my very core. "Before he had power, before he had me, she said he had been so different then." His chin comes down onto the top of my head. "I know now that he was manipulating her, hurling her into a royal marriage when she was freshly twenty," He continues, taking a deep breath between his next words. "But still, a part of me likes to believe he had a soul before he became power-hungry."

I let him talk, let him sift through all the thoughts in his mind.

"I guess, what I'm trying to say is that I'm terrified I'll be just like him when our child is born," He confesses into my hair and my brows bunch. I whirl around to face him with a stern expression.

"Your father was a monster," I state plain and simple. Eris' eyes darken.

"Yes, and I was his favorite son," He stressed and something inside my gut tightened. I hated seeing him like this, so worked up due to his own mind reeling with no one around to tell him it was going to be okay.

"That doesn't make you him," I bring my hands to his jaw. "Look at me," I whispered and he did as I said, his beautiful amber eyes meeting my gaze. "You're not him, you're not your mother, you're Eris Vanserra. My amazing mate, and the father of my child," I argue. "You're just you, who runs through your blood can't affect who you choose to be, do you understand me?" I lifted a brow and he nodded. "Tell me you understand me," I demanded and he smiled.

"I understand you, my love, I understand you," He reassured and my shoulders fell with the release of tension. He inches forward and places a chaste kiss on my lips.

"You're going to be such a good mom," He whispers, holding me achingly close like I might slip from his grasp at any moment. "I hope he turns out more like you," He pulls back to look me in the eye and I beam up at him, thinking about our soon-to-be son, he matches the grin and I swear I fall in love all over again.

"Only if he has your smile," I bargain and he debates it for a moment before muttering, "Deal." Then leaning in again and attaching our lips.

I melt into his touch, wrapping my arms around the back of his neck. "But," I pull away for air. "No matter what he looks like, or how he acts, I'm certain you'd tear this continent apart if anything ever happened to him," I remark and his soft smile was an answer enough that I was correct. He pecks me in reply.

"Come back to bed." I intertwine our hands, dangling them between us as I slowly pull away from him, receding towards the glass doors behind me.

"It gets so cold without you," I whine and he smirks knowingly.

"Says a girl from the Summer Court," He teases and I scowl at him playfully.

"She up, you know I can't use magic while I'm pregnant with your baby," I somehow pin the blame on him and he chuckles, allowing me to drag him back into our bedroom.

I let go of his hands and slid the glass door shut, locking it and keeping the persistent cold out. "Gods, I hope our children don't complain as much as you," He sighs, flopping down onto the bed.

"Oh honey, we're going to be the bane of your existence," I taunt, crawling up towards him on the mattress.

"Impossible," He sighs, grabbing me by the hips and pulling me right into him.

He wrapped his arms around me, the blankets covering the both of us and as if he knew exactly what I needed, the comforter began to seep warmth, the way the sun's rays felt after a rainy day.

"Wait," I perked up to look at him.

"What is it?" His brows furrowed.

"You said children, as in, more than one," I recalled and he looked at me confused.

"What are you talking about?"

"You said, I hope our children don't complain as much as you," I say, mocking him with a deep voice.

His confusion remained prominent on his face. "What about it?" He arched a brow. "I mean, whatever you want is fine with me but I wasn't exactly planning on only having one," He frowned.

"Well, how many do you want?" I asked, and you'd think this is something we would have talked about before he put a baby in me.

"I want a girl," He confessed. "Once we have a girl I'll be satisfied," He explained and I paled.

The Vanserra family was known for having a very long lineage of only male offspring. Whether it was a curse, magic, or dumb luck she wasn't quite sure. But he seemed entirely serious.

I stared at him with a fearful look in my eyes and he burst out laughing, chuckling at my expression.

"Gods, you should see your face," He hummed between breaths, cupping my cheeks in his hands.

"My pretty girl," He sighed once he got his amusement under control. "I promise I don't want anything that you wouldn't be comfortable with," He reassured and my anxiety declined. "But I would love to fuck another baby into you," He hummed, throwing his arms back around me.

"For a male so worried about becoming a father, you seem horny at the idea of getting me pregnant," I say and he grins.

"You just, I like the idea of having a family with you," He confesses and I lean upward, kissing him gently.

"I like the idea of having a family with you, too," I reply and he flushes so red that I could see the hue in the dark. I don't say anything, just peck his lips, reveling in the idea of being about to have a kid and still being able to make him blush.

"Get some sleep, Eris," I say softly against his lips. "You can tell me all about your plans for our family in the morning," I murmur through a yawn, furrowing deeper into his chest, melting into his warmth.

"Goodnight, beautiful," He whispered, running a hand through my hair until I drifted off beneath his touch.

It took him a moment to join me in a slumber, but the thoughts of his father were wiped away by my comforting words. And after a moment of reciting them, he was able to finally find some rest.

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[leafsbabe]

Matthew Tkachuk - just one of those days (SMUT)

cw: talks about bad body image, 2.2k words

Most of the time you didn’t care about your looks or your weight or what other people thought of your appearance. You felt good about yourself and that was the only thing that mattered.

But sometimes —randomly and out of the blue— insecurities would hit, crushing you under the weight of impossible beauty standards.

When those days hit you it was your first instinct to avoid Matthew. He was a wonderful boyfriend, caring and loving and never failing to let you know how much he loved you inside and out. But when you were in that messed up headspace every compliment felt insincere, like he wasn’t calling you beautiful because that’s what he thought, but rather because he felt like that’s what you wanted to hear. It made you feel selfish, like you were constantly asking to be called pretty.

When those days happened while Matthew was gone it almost felt like a blessing and a curse at the same time. You could spend an extra hour at the gym, go get treatments and spend a lot of money on issues that hadn’t existed two days ago. But Matthew not being there also meant you had nobody to talk you down when you started to spiral.

It was just your luck that Matthew would be coming home from a road trip in the late evening. You could just go to bed early, avoid Matthew a little while longer, and then hopefully wake up tomorrow morning in a better headspace. 

You got ready for bed without turning on the lights, not wanting to look at yourself while brushing your teeth or changing. It was a rough day; it didn’t need to be a rough night. Forgoing your usual sleepwear of a tanktop and shorts you put on an old shirt of Matthew’s —so well loved it had stretched and gotten insanely soft— and a pair of sweatpants you found somewhere in your drawers. They might have been Matthew’s as well, judging by the way they sat on your hips.

You curled up in your shared bed around sunset but no matter how you tossed and turned, sleep evaded you. Hours later you were still awake, laying in the large empty bed and staring at the wall. When Matthew came home sometime in the night you could hear him make his way through your apartment —letting his keys fall into the bowl at the entryway that Chantal had gifted you, the fridge door opening and closing, the water from the shower. He tried to be quiet and had you been asleep he wouldn't have woken you up but you weren’t and so you waited for Matthew to crawl into bed behind you.

It didn’t take him long to notice you were awake. Matthew got clingy when he was tired, cuddling up to you or spooning you with his strong arms wrapped around you, holding you against his chest. With you curled up on your side under the blankets it only made sense for him to slide in behind you and wrap himself around your body.

At first you still pretended to be asleep but Matthew wasn’t easily fooled. He pressed his lips to the back of your head for a moment before letting his own head fall down on your pillow alongside yours. His free hand found your waist under the blanket before moving up, shamelessly settling on one of your boobs as a sigh left your lips.

“Did you wait up or are you having trouble sleeping?” His voice was soft in the darkness of the room.

“Trouble sleeping.” You answered. “Just…  I had a few bad days.”

Those bad days weren’t a new thing and Matthew knew all about them. He hiked a leg over yours and pulled you even closer, clinging to you. “I love you.” He mumbled into your hair before pressing another kiss to the back of your head. “And you’re sexy as fuck. I know you don’t feel that way right now but I’ll love you enough for both of us until you feel better again.”

The last thing you wanted to do was be a burden so telling Matthew how you truly felt was not an option for you, but simply having him there, telling you that he loves you and finds you attractive sexy, helped.

Even if your brain acted up sometimes and made you think the worst, Matthew loved you anyway. He proved to you that those bad thoughts were wrong again and again.

“I missed you.” His hand left your chest briefly before finding its way under your shirt, skillfully avoiding touching anything that could cause you to shy away, and settling on your boob once more.

It wasn’t unusual for him to just hold one of your boobs or even both. A while ago he came up with the excuse that it was good for your heart or something, said that he read it somewhere. You knew it was total bull but you didn’t mind, enjoyed it even, so you let his explanation slide. Sometimes Matthew just lazily palmed them while you waited to fall asleep. Other times, like tonight, he would run his thumb over your nipple until it hardened and then played with it a little more.

You just let yourself relax back into his embrace and let him palm at your chest. As strange as it seemed, the soft repetitive motions put you at ease. Matthew meanwhile seemed to only get more excited, if his steadily hardening length against your butt was anything to go by. He didn’t try to hide his excitement, almost grinding it against your body to seek pleasure even. He knew that this was something you were comfortable with but you also knew that Matthew wouldn’t push past this point without you asking him to.

It took you longer to decide than usual. You always wanted Matthew, desperately, but could you get over your insecurities enough to allow yourself to be loved?

“Matthew?” You asked into the darkness, getting a hum in return. “I’ll keep my shirt on, okay?”

“Whatever you need.”

It took a second for you to detangle your limbs but once you managed to free yourself it was easy to roll over onto your front, hugging your pillow to your chest. Matthew was gentle as he peeled off your sweatpants. He couldn’t seem to help himself and gave your ass a spank as you tried to muffle a tired laugh in the pillow.

His body blanketed yours for a moment and you could feel the heat of him against your back as he spoke. “I’m gonna get a condom, okay? Don’t want to clean up any mess.”

As soon as you nodded you could feel Matthew move around on the bed behind you. He didn’t turn on any of the lamps though, rather choosing to fumble in the dark and bump a water bottle off his nightstand before finding what he was looking for. Finally he pulled open a drawer and took out a condom, the foil wrapper crinkling as he opened it, and soon enough Matthew was on you again, his warm weight pressing you into the mattress.

“What do you want, baby? My mouth? Fingers?” His voice already sounded so wrecked even though he hadn’t even properly touched you yet.

“Fingers please.” Matthew ate pussy like a man starved and you loved him for it but tonight it just wasn’t something you wanted from him.

He followed your request without asking, rough fingers finding your folds and running along the slit teasingly as soon as the words left your mouth. 

You hadn’t thought you’d be so desperate for him. Not so fast. Not during these days. But Matthew didn’t have to wait long at all before he could work the first finger into you.

“So wet for me already.” He chuckled and you couldn’t help but tighten around him at the words. “I barely even touched you.”

A moan left your lips and Matthew rewarded you with a second finger joining the one already in you. He was careful, more careful than you probably needed, but then he started toying with your clit while still fucking his long fingers inside you and the feeling became too much.

“Fuck me.” Was all that left your lips.

“Already?” Was his response. “I barely got to play with you.” The pout was audible in his voice but he complied with your request, carefully removing his fingers.

Matthew only has to change positions slightly and before you could even miss his fingers, his length started to fill you up. He didn’t make you wait, bottoming out and immediately pulling back. Every thrust pushed you further into the mattress while the pillow clutched to our chest muffled any moans. This was exactly what you needed. 

Matthew managed to hit that sweet spot in his next thrust and you stopped holding back, clenching around him, whining into the pillow, gripping the sheets hard enough for them to become untucked. There was something wild in the way he was taking you that one wouldn’t expect from it. The blanket you were under kept you warm but the feeling of Matthew’s body against your back was burning. Nothing but desire filled the darkness of your room as loud gasps left your lips, too similar to make out whether they were Matthew’s or yours.

It was so easy to get lost in the feeling of him, to let yourself be filled again and again and again. One of his hands tried to bully its way between your body and the bed, attempting to grab your chest again. The change of angle when you moved —not much but just enough— only made his thrusts hit so much better.

You allowed yourself to float in the feeling for a little until you felt yourself get closer and closer to your orgasm. What finally pushed you over the edge was Matthew reaching down to play with your clit instead of our chest. Rough fingers toyed with you once again as you fell apart below him, shaking.

It took a little for you to come back, too blissed out to recognize anything but your own pleasure. When you did Matthew laid heavy across your back and you realized he must have come as well. The only uncomfortable thing about the position you were in was his arm trapped between your body and the bed. He must have noticed your weird position because he gently pulled it out from beneath you. A kiss was pressed against your shoulder through the shirt after, a silent apology. Matthew stayed inside of you a little longer as the two of you started to come down together, his weight a warm constant against you. After a few more moments he gave you another kiss in the same spot and then pulled out, rolling over on his side to lay beside you again.

“Matthew?” It took all of your remaining energy to turn over and look at him even if the darkness prevented you from really seeing anything. You knew he was there, looking your way, and that was all that mattered. “Thank you.”

He just pulled you into his arms again, lips finding your face somewhere near your cheekbone. “Not for that. Never for that.”

When you woke up the next morning it was to an empty bed. Light was shining through the window and it didn’t take you long to figure out it hadn't been up for long. The apartment was completely silent, no sounds of Matthew able to be heard, but his side of the bed still retained some of its warmth so he couldn’t have been gone for long. You rolled over to grab your phone but the battery must have died during the night. Before you could plug it in to charge in order to text Matthew, the front door opened. You could hear him clattering around in the kitchen for a few minutes before the bedroom door opened, revealing your tousled looking boyfriend trying to carry a loaded tray through the door. 

“Morning.” He sat the tray onto the floor next to your side of the bed before disappearing again, leaving you alone with plates full of breakfast staples before coming back with a giant bouquet and an iced coffee in his hands. Matthew looked a little embarrassed as he sat them down, the coffee coming precariously close to the rim of the cup as he struggled to place the flowers on the floor next to the tray. “I didn’t know if we had any vases so I just bought the one they had the flowers in at the store.”

“What-”

He interrupted you before you could question him. Why breakfast? Why the flowers? What did I do to deserve your love?

“I got breakfast.” Matthew smiled, before climbing back into bed on your side, bony knees bumping against your legs as he climbed over your body. “We’ll eat and then we’ll spend the day in bed, yes?”

You picked up your coffee and snuggled back into your blankets. It would be a good day.

[cafecourage]

Ooo requests are open?? :D for a writing request, may I ask for platonic snuggles scenario in your Isekai AU with Y/N and each of the boys? Or you can just pick your favorite(s) boy(s) if you’d prefer! 💜

I am going to have to pick my favorite boy’s/ two call outs, only because I have another cuddle adjacent request so technically I will have to write the rest later. XD Sorry if these aren’t that long I am trying to get back to writing for LU again.

Sky:

The night comes slowly some days as you travel. The slower the day the harder it is. Since when time is dragging on your body tends to tire out sooner then later. The whole group understands that its not their first rodeo. However it was yours. Sky was always a tune to your issues unfortunately and has been keeping by your side in case of emergency. You don’t think you where that close to falling over but apparently he thought otherwise.

It was a blessing or a curse.

Sky was a teddy bear but also a momma bird. So as soon as the camp location was established he drags you to away from the commotion. Unceremoniously he sits down taking his sailcloth off in the same action. “Come on.” Was all he said when he gestures down to his side.

“I am not that tired.” You mumbled but its not really like you wanted to refuse this opportunity. Sky is warm and squishy. It’s not like you cuddle with him to often. “Oof.” You plop yourself next to him and claimed his left side. “Your trapped now, your not allowed to leave.” You said with a yawn.

“I thought you said you weren’t that tired.” Sky teased as he drapes the sailcloth on the two of you like a blanket. You grumbled and smack his shoulder which only made him laugh.

Sky’s snuggles are the definition of hiding under the covers from a cold day. Warm and fuzzy.

Warriors:

You frown as this was getting ridiculous, there was a pattern you had notice recently with Warriors. He just wouldn’t wake anyone up until third shift. It’s not really something that would be brought up normally if you hadn’t signed up for second shift multiple times to get some late night internal monologuing done. You slowly get up from your spot where you were journaling and came closer to the fire. Not even asking you take part of the Captains scarf and wrap it around your neck as you lean into him. “Excuse you.” He said not amused by your shenanigans. “Shouldn’t you be sleeping?”

“Says the one that doesn’t wake up the next watch.” You fire back opening up your journal ones more. There was obviously something bothering him for him to not want to sleep the past few days. It’s not really good to force something like this out of a person and it doesn’t seem like he was going to talk easy especially this soon in your journey with the boys.

There wasn’t much he could argue with that given the circumstances “doesn’t mean you need to lose sleep,” was his argument. “Don’t suffer for my sake.”

You can’t help but roll your eyes at him “I’m not. I can’t sleep anyway.” There was an attempt to shut down the argument. “I’ll go to sleep when I can.” You then offered.

After some beats of silence and plotting in your braincell to wake up Twilight for his shift, the Captain puts his arm around you “fine.” He brings you closer a bit. Shifting your body you use his shoulder as your headrest. “What are you writing anyway?” He turns the topic to something else. Something less heavy of an topic. And with a smile you started to use this shift to explain to him about the history of Hyrule with some info missing of course.

Honestly? Snuggling with Warriors is rare at the start, but he is protective and sturdy. The Captain is the definition of safety.

Twilight:

Between Wolfie and the man, choosing when to give snuggles is a hard pick to make. There has been many times where Wolfie ends up being a giant heated plushie that you ensnare with your arms and legs. Truly a curse of being a furnace. But hey, you benefit from it.

Wolf snuggles tend to be rare as Twilight can’t really stay long as the longer his person was away the more the other links start to noticed. Which was why he tended to be the blanket or teddy bear replacement.

Cuddling with Twilight, the man, the myth, the not actually legend? Heaven. Absolutely heavnly as because he was a human furnace he mainly ends up as a mattress for you and wild. Playing with your hair braiding it slowly as he attempts to sleep himself as he was trapped. Sometimes he would switch to Wild as to make sure both of you get equal amount of attention from the resident older brother.

He was a magnet to the other boys as well. That always ends up with a cuddle pile since Twilight has this weird case of giving hugs and cuddles that are secure. It’s not in the protective way but more calming. Like he washed it away any issues that were in your mind to begin with.

Thats just who Twilight is though.

He might be annoying with nagging you to be more careful in this adventure, but he really is the definition of home.

Time:

You love the chain. Each Link was amazing and courageous in the own ways. But they are also very, very, chaotic sometimes. Which normally would be fun and fine, if your social battery was on the same wavelength. At the end of lunch there was little for you to do since it was a free day. The boy’s were training to let out some energy that has been built up.

There was a goal in your head though. You were aiming to do one thing the whole day and that was to sleep, and there was one man for that job.

You find Time sitting by the boy’s that had signed up to fight. It didn’t look like he was going to join them today. So perfect for your plans.

“Time.”

Was your only warning before you literally fall on the oldest link’s back. You needed a battery recharge and a hug. Both would be good please. You wanted both. You could feel the sigh from your laying spot as he has to awkwardly shift position to drag you on his lap. As soon as he has you it was Koala time. Time didn’t even blink or acknowledge your presence as he kept watch of the spars in front of him. Slowly thought his hand finds it’s way up to your hair. Not braiding it but just playing with it out of habit.

Time cuddles are the ultimate recharge, it was similar to Twilights but on a bigger scale. Safe probably more softer as its easier to hide from the world in Time’s arms. Plus the warmth of sun and tuning out the clashing of the wooden swords its no wonder you instantly fall asleep.

[lunabai]

RUBY RED

blurb:

Luna Amery is a poor girl from the town of Iram-furorem, who lives in a small shack-like house with her abusive father. One day she goes hunting only to find a magnificently horrifying snowy white dragon who's in need of help, who is she to not assist and help the poor thing? 2 years later, will her brave heroic acts help her? She is caught and captured for stealing prestigious jewels and is taken to the king's castle to live for eternity in his dungeons, but what happens when the king's white-as-snow dragon recognises her, and what happens when the king needs a queen and an heir and his dragon only approves of one lady?

Prologue

I woke with a jolt to the annoying sounds of banging and clashing coming from the kitchen. For a beat I was worried someone had broken in because surly dad wouldn’t be awake at this hour, until I hear him yelling my name.

“LUNA! LUNA! GET UP!”

With a grown I got out of, what can barely even be considered a bed – more like one long couch cushion on the ground with a thin paper blanket – and went to go find what that dragon above noise is about.

            “Finally! What took you so long.” Dad exclaims. As I go to answer he quickly butts in.

            “I woke up with a dragon forsaken headache, in need of something to eat, only to find out we are out of food AND WOOD!” We’ll maybe if you stopped drinking and got a job we could afforded to buy food and wood. Is what I would have said if I wasn’t so afraid of my morning starting out with a slap to the face.

            “So I need you to go out and chop some trees and while you’re at it kill a deer, or better yet a bear,” he says in irritation. I have a look out the window. Winter has not been kind to us this year.

            “Dad it’s been snowing all night! I’ll freeze to death out there.”

            “Oh my Dragons. It is constant complaining with you, honestly.” He shakes his head in disappointment, “I have given you everything for the last 16 years of your life! A roof over your head, a place to sleep at night, I make sure you have the right hunting equipment, and you still complain. I could have left you to the wilderness when you were a baby, but I didn’t out of the goodness of my heart. So, you will repay me by going out and making sure I can eat for the week and some wood, so I don’t freeze.” It was the same speech I got given every time I spoke my mind. Although the Dragons must have blessed upon me today cause at least it didn’t end with a slap to the cheek.  

Without responding I head back to my room to gear up for, what will most likely be an entire day of tracking around the forest in thick snow. I aim to put on as many layers as possible but not too much that it will diminish any movement. I grab my dagger from under my pillow and place it into one of my handmade sheaths. It’s a beautifully crafted blade with a black handle and red detailing. My father gave it to me on my 10th birthday, said it was my mother’s and that she carried it with her everywhere she went, so I now do the same, learning new skills with it every day. The dagger is all I have of my mother’s belongings and from the explanation Dad gave me of how she looked, I’d say that the dagger matched her perfectly.

            See the thing is, my late mother’s appearance was not considered conventionally normal and lucky for me she decided to pass on her genes to yours truly. Where I come from, Drakonland, it is standard for citizens to have light brown or dark blonde hair, with brown, blue or even green eyes. Not however black hair as dark as the midnight sky with red eyes that tend to glow when my emotions are amplified. I was born this way, just as my mother had been. Growing up was difficult, no one my age wanted to be my friend, they feared me, called me nasty names and said I was a witch just like my mother. I limit the number of visits I take to the village and when I must go, I wear a cloak to hide my appearance. I’ve spent my whole life outcasted from society because of how I look, and my father was too, for choosing to fall in love with my mother. Love, something I didn’t think my father knew how to do. Her death changed him.

            I gathered all my gear and packed a few bear traps that I acquired once at the Sunday markets and made my way out. The second I stepped out the door I was met with the iciest breeze of wind that I have ever endured. I raised my neck warmer to cover the bottom part of my face and set out for a day in the freezing snow.

-

I have been walking for miles upon miles that the sun is starting to set and I haven’t even encountered one animal all day! I turned around and started the trek back home. Dragon above! I should’ve turned back sooner; at this rate I won’t get back until sunrise the next day.

            As I’m making my way back, I suddenly hear a loud thunderous roar that sounds like it came from miles away in the direction I’m now heading. My first instinct is to hide or run the other way, like any sane person would do, and as I’m deciding which to do the roar comes again but this time it sounds like it is whimpering in pain.  

            I know I shouldn’t, but my judgment gets the better of me and I sprint as fast as I can to the noise – to hunt the animal? save it? I didn’t know, all I knew was that I needed to keep running, so I did. Faster and faster.

            After 15 minutes of straight sprinting, the roars got closer, yet quieter, like the animal was losing energy. The more I ran I started to realise I was running towards one of the bear traps I had place earlier. With the excitement that I was going to eat tonight, it boosted my energy right back up until I came to a clearing where I had previously placed the trap. Yet, nothing on earth could have prepared me for what I saw next.

-

A dragon? A dragon! No, it couldn’t be, surely. I am losing my mind; I am just dehydrated and imagining things. There is no other explanation. Ready to sprint home, I take a step backwards, snap. Oh shit, why must sticks exist in a forest!?!

            It’s a dragon! It’s an actual dragon. It is a full-on dragon, looking me right in the eye, almost challenging me—this magnificent, beautiful, as white as snow, dragon is staring deep into my soul.

            It’s then I realise that a small portion of the dragon’s foot is stuck in my trap. The dragon eyes are telling me it’s brave and fierce but also in pain and fear. What do I do? I can’t just leave it here, it’ll die.

            You see the thing is, in Drakonland, Dragons are our Gods and saviours. For millions of years, they have protected this land from the enemies that lie within Ignisavis, but they are still hungry creatures, so don’t be fooled by their protection, they are still monstrous beasts, at least that’s what my dad tells me. But looking into the eyes of this beautiful creation, I can’t help but feel this dragon’s pain.

            I know deep down my mother wouldn’t leave anyone when in pain, so I won’t do the same. I slowly and steadily inch forward towards the trap, this is probably a terrible idea. I can tell the dragons on edge, its eyes narrow in on me, watching my every move. I inch closer and closer towards the trap and once I'm in arms reach, I slowly kneel to the ground – keeping my eyes on this snowy, beautiful creature – trying to reach the spring on the trap.

As a grab a hold of broth springs, this dragon flinches. I quickly jump back, ready to run or hide or fight, honesty I don’t know what I was going to do. But once it settled down, I reached for the springs again and slowly pushed them both down. As I did so, this poor creature emitted the loudest groan I have ever heard.

I could see its blood started to protrude out of its foot where the spikes had planted themselves. It all happened so fast, once this poor dragon’s foot was free, it catapulted up as a knee jerk reaction and its claws sliced across my face.

“AHHHHH, FUCKING, FUCK, SHIT, OWWWWWW!!!” I gripped my face in my hands, I could feel my blood running down my face. Out of instinct, to asses if I was safe, I looked through my good eye to see where the dragon was, it was gone, all I could see was a trace of blood leading the opposite way into the forest.

I felt nothing but pure stinging excruciating pain, “HELP, ANYONE HELP ME PLEASE!” I knew there was no point in yelling, there was no one around for miles.

I ripped off the bottom half of my shirt and wrapped it around my head and over my eye to use as a makeshift band-aid. I felt delirious and tired, this can’t be how I die. With all my willpower and a heavy groan, I stood up and slowly but surely tracked my way home.

[casspurrjoybell-27]

Claimed by the Beast - Chapter 45

*Warning Adult Content*

Long Distance - Knox

Knox stirs awake to find the other side of the bed cool and empty. 

He's tangled in brightly colored blankets that don't match those he's used to sleeping with back at the clubhouse.

He frowns at the absence of Everett's familiar warmth.

Panic sets in for a split second, a reflex born from months of shared space and whispered promises but then he remembers where he is... Everett's house.

There isn't any danger, not yet at least.

Knox figures Everett is likely up and about doing something with his father.

The thought replaces Knox's frown with a soft smile knowing that he successfully obtained Gary's blessing to be with his son. 

One parent down, one more to go.

Pushing off the comforter, Knox swings his legs over the edge of the bed and shuffles towards the bathroom.

He chuckles to himself while admiring the meticulous organization of Everett's toiletries, each item neatly arranged on the sink's spotless countertop.

A quick shower and mint toothpaste clear the final remnants of sleep, which brings Knox back around to the fact that he has no idea the kind of chaos... if any... today will bring.

But what he hopes is to be able to spend more time alone with Everett.

Knowing their luck, the mini vacation they're on is bound to end at any minute.

Wrapped in a towel that barely fits around his waist, Knox wipes away the fog on the mirror, pausing at the sight of the now healed stab wound near his belly button.

A grim trophy from his nearly fatal scuffle with Ghost.

Nothing like a kitchen knife to the gut to help remind you just how short life truly is.

Not many have come close to being able to end Knox's life like that.

He's still pissed at himself for not being at the top of his game that night.

Another wrong move and Everett would be in The Jackal's possession right now instead of The Fallen Angels.

'Snap out of it. That bastard is dead and you're still alive. Everett is still alive. That's all that matters.'

Reaching for the hairbrush, he stops midway and is snapped back to the present by the ringing of his cell phone.

He curses under his breath while exiting the bathroom, water droplets trailing down his tanned skin.

He picks up the phone on the third ring, the caller ID flashing Gavin's name.

"Yeah?"

"Sorry to interrupt but I need to keep you in the loop of what's been going down over here."

"Like what?"

"The Jackals hit us back for burning down their brothel and construction business," Gavin says grimly.

"Fuckers shot up our funeral home and motel."

Knox's grip tightens around the phone.

"Shit. Any casualties?"

"Not this time, brother."

Exhaling a heavy breath, Knox processes the news with a tight nod even though Gavin can't see it.

Relief is a fleeting emotion as he moves to sit at the foot of the bed, the cell-phone pressed hard against his ear.

His free hand digs into the mattress on reflex, his voice low and coated in anger that this day with Everett must end before it can even begin.

"I'm guessing you held church already."

"Yeah."

"So what are we doing about this? What's the plan?"

"I sent a few men out to check on Russell's cabin again. I think he's added more guards to his roster."

"What makes you think that?"

"The security footage from the motel. They weren't all Jackal's. Some moved like trained soldiers, real military type."

"Fuck. Now what?" Knox questions, his patience slipping.

"Please tell me you have a plan forming or already made, Gav. Because that fucker Ghost clearly didn't lie about that place being packed with security. I hate to say it but The Jackal's outnumber us. We just don't have enough men to..."

"You're telling me shit that I already know, Knox," Gavin snaps, then sighs.

Knox can almost see him running a hand down his face.

"Our only way forward is for me to reach out and make a few phone calls to The Jackals clientele that we pulled off that USB. Might have to start blackmailing folks in exchange for more manpower and weapons sooner than I wanted to."

"This is so fucked," Knox grumbles.

The thought of going against an army with their numbers leaves a bitter taste in Knox's mouth.

"I hate that it's come to this."

"Me too, brother. Trust me."

"Look, I just got out of the shower. Everett and I will be back at the clubhouse soon. We can discuss this further in person."

"Sounds good. How are things going over there with the kid anyway? No issues?"

"Everything's quiet," Knox reported.

"Our guys that I put on to watch the area haven't seen any rivals around Everett's parent's and friend's houses for weeks."

"Well, that's good to hear."

"Yeah but it's starting to make me wonder if Russell still has Everett on his radar."

"Hmm. Right. I can see how that looks suspicious."

"I'm trying not to overthink shit. Bad things happen when I overthink."

Gavin chuckles.

"I know. But you and the kid are good, though? Josie has been itching for the latest tea... her words, not mine."

"We're good," Knox laughs, a sheepish grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"I met his dad last night and he approves. His stepmom's out of town, though, so I'll have to win her over another time."

"Good luck with that," Gavin chuckles before adding...

"Hey, can you grab some strawberries and peanut butter from the grocery store on your way back? Josie's pregnancy cravings are acting up again."

"Thanks, brother. See you soon."

The muted click of the call ending is barely audible as Knox tosses his phone aside, rising to his feet in a smooth motion.

The aroma of freshly cooked eggs and bacon wafted into the room, announcing Everett's arrival before he fully crossed the threshold.

"Hey, you."

Cradling two steaming plates, Everett approaches Knox with a soft smile and a questionable look in his eyes.

"I hope you're hungry because I kinda made too much..."

"Morning, kitten."

Knox's heart makes a small leap at the gesture, a loud notice of the domesticity they've slipped into so easily.

He accepts one of the plates with a kiss and a thank you whispered against Everett's lips.

They settle at the foot of the bed to eat and in between bites, Everett mentions the conversation he just had with his stepmother, Sarah.

"She was really looking forward to meeting you," Everett says.

"She told me to tell you that you'll have to come around for dinner again when she gets back."

"I don't mind," Knox says.

"I'm actually looking forward to it."

"You sure you're ready for another interrogation so soon? My dad's wasn't enough for you?" Everett teases.

Knox chuckles, shaking his head as he spears another forkful of eggs.

"I'm happy to do whatever it takes to keep you by my side, kitten."

As quickly as it arrived, the light and humor faded fast from Everett's expression, his gaze shifting away.

"Hey, what happened just now?"

"It's nothing."

"Don't lie to me. We're in too deep with each other to fuck around like that."

Everett's nervousness is almost palpable.

Knox sets their plates aside, his concern growing.

"Talk to me, kitten."

"I just have a lot on my mind today," Everett murmurs, still avoiding eye contact while his fingers pick at a loose thread on his jeans.

"We haven't... my dad and I talked about school and it reminded me that... well, I don't really know how we'll handle the long distance when I'm back at school. And I'm afraid you'll get bored with me once I stop being the shiny new thing in your life."

"You so fucking wrong it's almost laughable."

Knox captures Everett's hands in his own, his voice solid.

"What else do you need from me, Everett? What else do you need me to do or say to make you believe that I'm fucking serious about you? About us?"

"Knox, I..." Everett's lips part but before another word can form, Knox rushes on.

"Do you need me to get your name tattooed on me? I'll fucking do it. I'll do whatever it takes to get you to believe that I believe in us for the long run. I knew this shit wasn't going to be easy once I realized I was falling for you but it is what it is. We're here now. I'm here."

"I know."

"Do you really?"

"I do, Knox. I do."

"Then stop wasting your time worrying about shit that doesn't matter. I'm going to be here when you leave and I'm going to be here when you get back. Distance doesn't mean a thing to me, kitten. I know how to drive."

A choked laugh escapes Everett, his eyes welling up with tears.

"Shut up."

"I'm serious."

Knox grins, squeezing his hands.

"Whenever you want me to come see you, I'll come see you. I don't care how long the drive takes."

Everett nods but Knox can see the gears turning in his head.

Before he can delve any deeper, Gary's call from upstairs pulls Everett away once more, leaving Knox alone in the room with his thoughts.

He takes the opportunity to get dressed, unable to deny that he isn't majorly concerned about Everett's emotional reaction.

Knox has never been one to back down from a challenge, especially not when it comes to Everett.

Despite having never felt this way about anyone else before, he's willing to give what they have a proper chance to grow into something beautiful.

Something that, maybe with a little more time, can mature into a forever kind of love.

When Everett returns minutes later, he's sporting a poker face of indifference.

"Dad went to help the neighbor out with his lawnmower. He said to tell you that you're welcome to stop by for a drink any time."

"Okay, great. Now back to you. What else is on your mind?"

Knox walks over to him, one hand cupping his face and tilting it so their eyes meet.

"You're not making this easy for me, kitten. I'm trying my fucking best here."

"I know you are."

"I'm not a mind reader."

"I know that too, Knox."

"Then fucking talk to me," Knox pleads.

"Tell me what else is bothering you besides the long distance shit. I know you're holding more back."

"I-I don't want to do this here."

Everett grabs Knox's hand and kisses it before lowering it from his face.

"Can we just go? I'm sure Gavin needs you for something club related. I can't keep you away forever."

"Does it look or sound like I'm in a fucking rush to get back there?"

"Knox, please."

"Everett..."

"I'll be outside in the truck. Turn out the light when you leave."

Everett dashes up the stairs like the house is on fire, not allowing Knox to get another word out.

Frustration hits the man like a wrecking ball.

It almost sends one of Knox's fists through the drywall until he once again remembers that this bedroom isn't his to destroy.

Gary certainly wouldn't appreciate that.

"Fuck it. Can't say I didn't God-damn try," Knox mutters to himself while gathering his cell phone and other belongings.

He then marches out of the room without looking back or turning off the light, his attitude worsening with every step that he takes.

His manners remain, though, and he returns Gary's wave from across the street.

But Knox's faux smile is gone by the time he climbs into his truck and takes off down the road.

He hits multiple buttons on the stereo until eventually stopping on a song with loud bass and drums.

"We're not going straight home," he says.

"I need to make a run by the grocery store to grab something for Josie. Anywhere you need to stop on the way back?"

With his head resting against the passenger side window, Everett quietly replies...

"I'm good."

'Liar.'

Jaw clenched with one hand gripping the steering wheel a bit too tightly, Knox turns the music up louder and ends the conversation there.

[unbidden-yidden-deactivated20240]

I would add that some of this is theological: many Xtians are taught that the "Old Testament religious laws" [read: mitzvot] are a yoke that will break your body and your spirit, that they are a burden no human can bear. And because we are born into sin, we can never be truly righteous or pure. Even without the doctrine of original sin, however, there's this idea that the burden comes from the fact that there is no way to redeem yourself or fix your mistakes without sacrifice. And because there's no way that any human being isn't going to mess up and violate the law at some point, we are just constantly fighting our way up the stream of human nature like spawning salmon with no hope of redemption but trying and failing anyway. They, the Xtians, are allowed to be joyful because Jesus redeemed them from original sin and regular human failings, and created a new covenant that was inherently easier (or even possible) to follow. Namely, as long as you accept Jesus as your Lord and Savior, you don't need to worry about any of the old religious law except the Ten Commandments and the doctrine established by the church. But everybody else? Especially Jews who insist on doing it the old, bad, hard way? Wow that must be a dreary existence!

And that would indeed be a rather miserable existence..................... if any of that were true about us.

Luckily, none of it is. (Link is to a very long thread where I break down a lot of these differences.)

Now for Xtians and ex-Xtians who were taught some version of the above and struggle to imagine something different, let the above descriptions give you a better idea of how we actually perceive ourselves and experience Judaism.

Tl;dr on the differences:

The mizvot are a privilege, not a burden. They are literally our 24/7 lifeline to the Divine, which allows us to infuse holiness into every aspect of our daily lives.

We don't believe in original sin; that just literally doesn't exist in Judaism

We do believe that everyone makes mistakes, and that if you take meaningful steps to fix the problem (a process called "teshuva" or returning) you can be considered righteous by G-d

We don't believe in a permanent hell, but rather something more analogous to purgatory, where your soul goes for a maximum of a year to be cleansed before returning home.

For my part, I view being Jewish and therefore having the opportunity and privilege to practice Judaism and do mitzvot as an absolute blessing. I am upset when I miss out on a mitzvah, not because I think G-d is going to punish me harshly for missing the mark, but because I lost an opportunity to connect. That was a sacred moment that I failed to draw out to its fullest. And if I become disconnected from Jewish practice, I start to feel spiritually parched, like a salamander far from the pond. Judaism is a gift, the mitzvot a treasure.

I do think it's difficult if not impossible to understand if you haven't lived it. Judaism is meant to be a whole body, mind, and spiritual experience. For someone who has not experienced it, it's hard to understand why, for example, I find more meaning in, say, the hassle of kashrut than the pleasure of eating treyf. I gave up lots of delicious foods in order to keep a kosher diet. Why? Well, as I explained to my orthodox rabbi (who asked me a similar question to understand my draw to this as an outsider), some things are worth not eating. Keeping kosher is a constant lifeline to my Jewish identity and a way that I can say to Hashem, essentially, "look, see? I am doing this because I love You and I love being Jewish and I love the Jewish people." And no recipe has tasted better to me than that.

If you haven't ever tasted the sweetness of Torah, you may not understand how comforting a weight the Torah scroll is in your arms. Symbolically and literally, the Law rests on your chest over your heart and weighs you down. But the pressure is comforting the way that holding your sleeping child or curling up under a weighted blanket is comforting.

I don't want to be "free" from the mitzvot; I worked very hard to earn the right to do them! I honestly feel a little frantic at the thought of having them taken away from me. Because it would have to be a taking; I would never give them up willingly.

The difference is love. Judaism/the Jewish people might be a religion, a culture, a nation, a tribe, a philosophy, and a family, but more than anything it is a relationship and way of existing in the world. I derive joy from existing as a Jew in the world because I love being Jewish, I love my people, and I love Torah. I don't know any other way to be now that I've become Jewish. But if you don't have that same love, I think it might be puzzling at best, especially if you've been lied to about who we are and what we believe.

In Judaism joy is the supreme religious emotion. Here we are, in a world filled with beauty. Every breath we breathe is the spirit of God within us. Around us is the love that moves the sun and all the stars. We are here because someone wanted us to be. The soul that celebrates, sings.

Rabbi Lord Jonathan Sacks, Studies in Spirituality, p. 258

[jellalism]

Diluc x reader: Don't leave me

SUMMARY: Your mind tends to travel to dark places at night and that keeps you up. Diluc talks you through it and reassures you.

WORDS: 864

CONTENT WARNINGS: Suicidal thoughts, one swear word.

NOTES: Reader is gender neutral. Established relationship.

Read below or on AO3.

It’s the middle of the night, but you can’t sleep anymore. The red-haired man next to you is still fast asleep, and you’ve been looking at him for a while. It’s the next best thing, you suppose. If sleep cannot be had, then at least you get to bask in Diluc’s beauty. Even when his hair is loose and unkempt, it still looks lush. And his face, gods, it is so perfect you wonder whether he is truly human, whether he is not secretly an angel. You don’t quite get why he chose you to be with, but you feel honored and blessed. And a little guilty. You can’t imagine you’re fun to be with right now. There’s been times that you were doing well, but lately it hasn’t been going great. Really, it’s been going terrible. Even with the blessing that is Diluc, you can’t help but feel somber. The sun may be shining, but that’s no use if it is obscured by a raincloud. And you’ve been holding on for some time, hoping the cloud would move away, but it’s been so long you are starting to wonder whether it will ever move. And if the world is perpetually blanketed by clouds, would it not be better to leave the world altogether…?

You get up, deciding it’s time to get a glass of water. Maybe that will help you fall asleep. Probably not, but at least it gives you something to do, something to keep you occupied. You sneak out of the room, careful to make as little sound as possible. You go to the kitchen and see a jug on the counter. You lift it up – bingo, it still has water in it. You put some in a glass and drink it. When you go back to the bedroom, you try to enter as quietly as you left.

When you are close to the bed, a sleepy voice interrupts. “y/n?” It seems your efforts are in vain.

“Sorry for waking you,” you whisper. “I just went to get some water.” You climb back into bed and lie on your side, facing Diluc again.

He grunts in response, still groggy. “Insomnia again?” You nod. “What’s bothering you, sweetheart?”

You stay silent for a moment. Do you really want to bother him with your worries? In the middle of the night?

Your ruminations are cut short by a hand caressing your cheek. “You can tell me. You are not bothering me.”

“A-are you sure?” you blurt out. Sometimes it feels like anything you do, any space you take up, is too much.

“Yes, my love. Sharing your troubles is not the burden you think it is. I’m glad when you tell me, because I get to know you better, and it means that you trust me. It means that the way I trust you is reciprocated. Please, don’t hesitate to tell me what is on your mind.” Feeling reassured, you take a deep breath. And speak. “I want to die. I don’t think it’s ever getting better anymore. I’ve been in this shit for such a long time now, I just can’t imagine it ever ending anymore.” There’s more to be said, more words on the tip of your tongue, but for now this is what you need to get out. Already at your first words, Diluc’s eyes widened, surprise showing clearly on his face. As you finish your short rant, his expression has turned into concern. And something else. His hand that earlier caressed your cheek now moves to your back, and pulls you into his embrace.

“Oh honey. That’s—” he pauses, clearly struggling to find words “—awful.” A silence falls again. Your face is resting at his collarbone. He smells nice, like the flowers from around the winery. And his body, wrapped around you, feels comfortingly warm. “If I could take all your pain away, I would. But that can’t be done. Still, I will be there to help you. Anywhere, anytime. If it feels like it’s never going to get better, remember that you’re not alone. I will help you, and there’s plenty of others who will do the same. You’re not alone, you’re cared for, and no one is ready to give up on your happiness. So if you feel hopeless, I’ll be there for you to lean upon.” He breathes out, warm air tickling your ear. You’re not sure what to answer, so in lieu of words, you bury yourself deeper in his embrace. Diluc responds by kissing your forehead. Seconds pass. Minutes pass. Just as you think Diluc has fallen back asleep, he speaks again. “It’s okay if you feel like giving up. Then just come to me. I’ll carry you when it’s difficult to walk. But…” He whispers something too soft for you to hear.

“What? I didn’t hear.”

You feel his muscles tense a little bit. He speaks again, barely audible this time. “Don’t leave me.”

Gods, how could you ever leave if he says that so earnestly? “I won’t,” you promise. His body relaxes. His hand goes to your head and gently plays with your hair. Slowly, you drift back to sleep.

[princessbatears]

Wannabe Father - Chapter 7

Casa Werewolf Series #7

Chapters 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6

Pairing: Javi Gutierrez x Werewolf Single Mom f!Reader Summary: A comment has Javi questioning if he'll ever be a real dad to your kiddos Warnings: mention of blood, discussion of hunting for food as werewolves, discussion of killing animals, sexual arousal, language, discussion of dead parent Words: 3k

A few hours after you take the children out to hunt, there’s a soft knock on the front door. Javi quickly turns off the movie he’d been watching and goes to peer out the curtains of the front window. He sees your large silhouette on the porch.

Quickly, he unlocks and opens the door. Bo, Tallulah and Astrid are asleep, cradled to your chest in one long arm. You smile at him and, even though the shape of it is different, it’s still unmistakably your smile.

“Did it go well?” he asks softly. He’s already learned that ‘yes’ and ‘no’ questions are the easiest way of communicating.

You nod, eyes shining proudly. Then, you enter the house on three legs and head to the living room. He follows.

Gently, you set each puppy on the sofa, snuggling them together. Bo sighs, his arms tugging Tallulah instinctively closer in his sleep. Astrid shoves her face against Bo’s belly before lapsing into adorable little snores.

Javi chuckles. Is it really fair for such cute kids to be allowed to turn into equally cute puppies?

You make a soft “roo” sound, catching his attention. When he looks at you, you’re rubbing your stomach with one hand and using your other to mime eating. Then, you point at the door.

“You’re still hungry and need to get more food?” he guesses. Moms are often the last to get to eat and it’d track that you’re the same even as a Wolf.

You nod before gesturing at him and then the pile of kids.

“I can watch them,” he agrees eagerly, both because he’s happy to and because he knows what trust you’re placing in him.

Relieved, you give his cheek a lick before walking back to the door. He sees you glance behind you once before shutting it and disappearing again into the night.

After locking the door again, Javi grabs a throw blanket from the back of the sofa, which he lightly drapes over the pups. Then, he sits by them to watch them sleep.

The shock of being around werewolves has thankfully fully worn off. Now, he's just fascinated. Lightly, he touches one of Bo’s front paws. Or are they hands? The long human-like fingers are covered in fur and have claws instead of nails, so he’s not sure what that makes them.

It’s amazing to him that these pups, who are about the size of a small Spaniel dog, will grow into a creature as huge as you. He’s still blown-away by how incredible you are in Wolf form. The size of a bear, but with all the elegance and grace of a jungle cat.

Astrid stretches, eyes blinking open. She looks around, forehead crinkling with confusion. Pushing herself up on her front paw, she scans the room, worry growing when she can’t spot you.

Javi runs a hand down her ruff, cooing, “It’s okay, Astrid. Mama’s gone to get herself some supper, but she’ll be back soon. Until then, I’m here. You’re safe.”

She looks up at him, trembling slightly. He’s not surprised his words don’t comfort her. She’s been left in a strange place with someone she doesn’t truly know that well.

But, to his surprise, she crawls over Bo and into his lap. She curls up, back against his stomach, and rests her chin on his right wrist.

A warmth expands through his chest, making him feel emotional. With his free hand, he caresses her coat. “You can just rest right here, mi amor. I’ve got you.” Soon, her shivering stops and her breathing deepens with sleep again.

He presses a kiss to the top of her head. How did he get to be the one who’s been blessed with the privilege and responsibility of knowing about you all? To learn the world is far more magical than he ever guessed?

He’s not sure how long he sits there, soaking it all in, but, eventually, he hears a knock on the door again. None of the puppies stir at the sound, so completely exhausted from their exciting evening.

Gently setting Astrid back with the others, Javi stands. He once again double-checks that it is indeed you before letting you in.

“Find something to eat?” he asks, lightly touching your back after locking the door.

You nod, smiling at him. He notices that the fur on your face, ruff, and chest are wet, like you'd stuck your top half the nearby river. Were you catching fish?

And, maybe it’s just the low light of the lamps, but there’s some pink tinging the light grey parts on your muzzle. “You didn’t get hurt, did you?”

You shake your head.

Well, that’s a relief. It must be blood from your meal. “You’re wet, let me get you a towel.” The night might be warm, but he doesn’t want you to get chilled.

Jogging up the stairs to the linen closet, he grabs a few spare towels. Oddly, he doesn’t feel weird about the bloodstains from whatever animal you killed, which makes him proud of himself. He's cut out to be a werewolf’s boyfriend!

When he returns downstairs, he finds you sitting by the couch, tendering grooming the snoozing kiddos with your tongue. “Is it okay if I dry you off a bit?”

You glance at him, nodding, before refocusing on cleaning Tallulah’s neck.

Javi comes up behind you and begins to rub your ruff and head with the towel. You shift your weight slightly, leaning your side against him. He smiles, moving his ministrations to your chest. For once in his life, he doesn’t feel like he needs to fill the silence with words, letting the peaceful sounds of you tending to your pups and him tending you be enough.

The next morning, Javi purposefully wakes early, wanting to make breakfast for the family. He’s dismayed to find you already in the kitchen, slicing some crusty bread.

“¡Hola, buenas!” you smile at him. Maybe it’s his imagination, but he swears he can see the Wolf in your eyes, even though your irises are the normal human color. There’s something extra energetic about them, about you.

“I was going to make you breakfast, but it seems you beat me to it.” He joins you at the counter.

You shrug. “I don’t sleep much during the full moon. But it was very sweet of you to want to.” Then, you give him a kiss. It’s not the little peck he expected; rather, a quick but thorough exploration of his mouth that ends with you biting his lower lip in a way that almost has his knees giving out.

Giggling at his stunned reaction, you return to cutting bread. “The kids like tostada con tomate for breakfast. Would you like some?”

Managing to yank a few brain cells in the direction of your question, he says, “Please. Can I help?”

“If there’s sliced meat, will you grab it? If not, we can make fried eggs for the top. The toast itself isn’t enough for them.”

Javi opens the refrigerator and finds ham slices. “We’ve got ham.” After setting the butcher paper-wrapped meat next to you, he grabs the coffee beans. “Do you drink coffee?”

You crinkle your nose cutely. “Not if it’s torrefacto beans. Too bitter.”

He only has torrefacto coffee beans, but he makes a note to get beans roasted without sugar. “We could go to a bar after dropping the kids off, get some coffee you like. More breakfast if you need it”

You put the a dozen slices of bread on a pan, then slide it into the oven to toast. “I’d love some coffee, but I probably won’t be eating any food until I hunt again tonight. My nightly meals are pretty giant.”

“So, you found enough to eat, then?” he asks, trying to be tactful and not just bombard you with a bunch of questions about hunting.

“I did. The kids had some mice and rabbits and I found myself a deer.”

“Bueno. Hey, why were you all wet? Did you try fishing in the river?”

You look a little sheepish. “I was cleaning myself up. There’s an… enthusiasm that takes over werewolves when they eat, so the bigger, bloodier animals make a mess.”

“Considering how messy my face and hands get with my favorite foods, I can’t blame you,” he laughs easily.

Looking at the window above the sink, you smile gratefully. “This area is perfect. Quiet, full of life, safe. Thank you again for letting us stay here.”

Javi puts his arms around your middle, breathing in the scent of your soap. “You can come here every full moon if you want.”

Your fingers push his bangs to the side, searching his face. “You’re really not scared of me.” It’s somewhere between a statement and a question.

He lightly brushes your lips with his own. “You are the most amazing being I’ve ever seen. Both woman and Wolf.”

Chuckling softly, you link your hands behind his neck, preparing to give him another one of those knock-out kisses.

But then you pause, listening, before pulling away. The loss of your body against his is excruciating. “I hear one of the kids up.”

Javi clears his throat, grateful he’s wearing loose shorts today. “Do you still need olive oil?

“I do,” you say in a tone that, if he didn’t see the speckles of amber in your eyes, would make him think you’re far more unaffected than he is. He’s thrilled to see you’re not.

He grabs the olive oil from a cupboard and sets it next to you. “Oh, I wanted to ask if it’s okay if the niños come to my house after school to feed Marci. If they still want to.” He hasn’t forgotten Talulah’s interest in the fish.

You smile. “Of course. I’ve got to get some work done, so would you be okay taking them without me?”

“Certainly!” Another major sign of trust.

A werewolf puppy comes skittering into the kitchen, legs flailing as it goes too fast on the hard floor. It only comes to a stop by slamming into Javi’s left calf.

It turns out to be Bo, who flops over on his back, belly in the air, and grins up at Javi.

“Bo, why aren’t you dressed?” you ask, barely looking at your son as you wash a tomato.

Bo paws at Javi’s foot and then stretches out farther. “Do you want a belly rub?” Javi chuckles, bending over to rub his chest and stomach like he would a dog’s.

Looking blissful, Bo goes limp, eyes half-closing.

“Bo, you need to get dressed,” you say firmly. “You can get more pets from Javi after school. Are your sisters awake?”

With a put-upon sigh, Bo gets to his feet. He shakes his head no in answer.

“Javi, I’m going to go get them moving. Will you finish making breakfast? The kids like tomatoes and olive oil in addition to ham.”

He smiles, happy he gets to make some of the food after all. “Consider it done.”

Javi stands on the step stool in front of Marci’s fish tank, holding Tallulah in his arms so she can reach the top. His big Oscar is bobbing at the surface of the water, eager for food.

“Okay, drop one piece in at a time,” he instructs.

Cupped in one of her hands are chopped fresh prawns. With her other, she drops a piece in. Marci sucks it up in her mouth.

“She ate it so fast!” Tallulah says in delight.

“I can’t see,” Bo moans forlornly from the floor.

“You’ll get a turn with her, chiquito,” Javi promises.

Earlier that afternoon, when the triplets had returned with you from school, he’d offered to bring them to feed Marci. Tallulah and Bo had jumped at the opportunity while Astrid had opted to stay at the safe house with you to paint her daily art prompt.

It’s been insightful to interact with the elder two siblings on their own. They’re more competitive with each other when it’s just them, and neither feels the need to take care of the other like they do Astrid.

Tallulah giggles as Marci swims excitedly around, awaiting each new morsel of food. “Bo acts that way when he smells supper.”

Bo chortles. “Food is the best.”

Javi chuckles, watching Marci spin in circles. “I always know she likes someone when she does that when they feed them.”

Face lighting up, Tallulah beams at the fish. “I like you, too, Marci!”

Once her hand is empty of prawn, Javi bends over to set her on the ground. “Go wash your hands.” Then, he lifts Bo, who is holding diced cucumber.

“One piece at a time.”

Bo does as instructed, grinning as Marci shows him the same eagerness over the vegetable. “She really is like me!”

“Told you!” Tallulah calls as she leaves the room to go to the bathroom.

“I thought fish ate fish food.”

“Fish food offers a balanced diet for a lot of fish, but Oscar fish require more variety or they get bored and stop eating. Kind of like if your mama only fed you the same food over and over forever.”

Bo dismisses this. “I could eat pizza every day, every meal forever!”

Tallulah still hasn’t returned by the time Bo’s done feeding Marci, so he and Javi go in search of her. “Tallulah?”

They hear her say enthusiastically, “You got a wall of pictures, too!”

She’s standing in a nearby hallway, looking at the gallery wall of Gutierrez family photos. She points at one of Javi and David during Christmas morning a few years ago. “You’re a twin!”

Javi smiles. “That’s my little brother, David. We’re not actually twins—he’s a few years younger—but we look a lot alike. I mean, I’m obviously more handsome with better hair.” He playfully tosses his head, making his waves bounce.

Tallulah frowns up at him with those child’s discerning eyes. “You have more wrinkles.”

Well, that’s a shot to the heart.

He’s saved from responding when Bo asks, “Is he a gazillionaire also?”

The family business and money are too complicated to explain, so Javi answers, “He’s an actor. He makes movies and TV shows.”

“What kind?”

“Probably nothing you’ve seen. Adult dramas and things.”

Both Tallulah and Bo make faces. “That’s boring,” Tallulah scoffs, jumping onto Bo’s back. She locks her legs around his waist and orders, “Run!”

Bo immediately charges along the hallway as they both shriek with laughter.

Javi smirks to himself. Wait until he tells David that the kids think he’s boring.

“Why don’t you got kids?” Tallulah asks as Bo makes another lap past him.

You’d probably be aghast that she asked him such an a question, but Javi knows it’s a sign that she feels comfortable with him. And he doesn’t mind answering. “I never found the right person to marry.”

Tired of carrying her around, Bo pushes Talullah off him. She easily lands on her feet. “You should get married. Mama says being married to Daddy was the best thing that ever happened to her.”

“Yeah, she got us!” Bo grins.

“And they were in love,” Tallulah huffs, like he totally missed the point.

A sharp pang of envy shoots through Javi at how attached Tallulah is to the idea of you and Ivan’s relationship.

Almost immediately, shame rises to join it. How could he even allow himself to feel threatened by it? She’s a young girl grieving her father; not a little kid in a movie who meets a nice neighbor and immediately wants to set him up with her lonely mother. He can’t expect them to immediately see him as a father, no matter how badly he wants it.

“Javi?” Both kids are looking up at him expectantly, like he missed something.

“Hmmm? Sorry, I spaced out,” he laughs lightly, trying to shove aside all the unpleasant feelings so he can enjoy this time.

The next morning, Javi joins you in dropping the kids off at school. You two are going on a little coffee date to one of your favorite spots that he hasn’t been to before.

“It’s lovely this morning,” you sigh, head tipped up towards the light, cool breeze.

“Fall is here,” Javi agrees, basking in how content you look and the way it feels to hold your hand as you walk to the café.

When you reach the café, there’s a long queue out the door. “I usually come a little earlier, before it gets this busy. Do you want to go somewhere else?” you ask.

“I don’t mind waiting. It’s beautiful outside and the company is even more beautiful.” He grins at you.

You duck your head slightly, smiling in that adorably bashful way of yours.

Before too long, the queue has the two of standing just outside the café. Right next to you is a newspaper stand, with a variety of newspapers, magazines and tabloids displayed.

Frowning, you lean towards one of the tabloids on a shelf. “Is that you?” You point in shock at a picture of a man that does look very much like him on the cover, holding hands with some supermodel.

Before he can correct you, you translate the Spanish headline aloud, “‘Dieter Bravo spotted with Destiny Raven.��” You turn to him curiously. “Is this your brother?”

He chuckles, nodding. “His stage name is Dieter Bravo. Occasionally, he ends up on tabloids.”

A look of horror comes over your face. “Are you on tabloids, too? Does the paparazzi take pictures of you?”

- - -

Thank you SO much for reading this story; I’d love to hear your thoughts! 🥰

Spanish Translations/Notes: mi amor - my love ¡Hola, buenas! - common casual greeting in Spain tostada con tomate - toasted bread with olive oil, grated tomato, and sometimes the addition of meat or eggs torrefacto coffee - traditional Spanish coffee has a very bitter flavor because the beans are coated in sugar before roasting, which results in burned sugar combining with the beans chiquito - affectionate term for a child

Javi Gutierrez Masterlist

Werewolf Masterlist

[doopdevil]

What about headcannons for Dr Connors, specifically Lizard Connors. (If your comfortable with that of course!) How do you think he'll act around his s/o (I don't think there's need to specify gender so just g/n) when he starts brumation.

lizard!curt connors x s/o hcs

MASTERLIST

warnings: cursing ; lizard attacking ppl

pairings: lizard!curt connors x gender neutral!reader

word count: 494

summary: dating a lizard-man comes with many pros and cons.

a/n: hi anon, thank you for the request! this one goes out to the bearded dragon i had as a kid that pooped on me. honestly my favorite part of making this was getting the research because my search bar was blessed with the quote, "how to know if lizards like you" also, requests are open! i'm also accepting prompts w/ any character i write for on this post!

although curt has retained a good chunk of his human personality (continuing to be incredibly docile and gentle), as a lizard he's more aggressive. if he's upset or mad, he's much more upfront about it. in his moods, he's far louder and agitated than you're used to. occasionally he may need some time alone to let his anger out, but once he's ready this man will beg you for cuddles. gentle affection and reassurances from his s/o always make him feel better.

also speaking of curt being pissed, he will literally hiss. like if anyone annoys him he just lets out this steamy hiss and it's definitely enough to make them stop.

it's because of this that he tries his best to be as careful as possible with you. when he first got his powers, he had a habit of underestimating his strength (accidentally destroying a piece of furniture or two.) although sometimes he'll be too careful, at a point where you'll have to reassure him that the lightest touch probably won't hurt you.

as a lizard, he's much warier. he's incredibly cautious wherever he goes, and if he's with you he'll be very protective. if someone bothers you or tries to hurt you, they're fucked. immediate hospital visit. when the doctor asks they'll have to explain a lizard attacked them for flirting with his s/o 😭 curt is far more territorial as the lizard, and doesn't appreciate people messing with what's his.

during brumation though? he is absolutely exhausted. when winter comes by, he'll be spending most of his time sleeping in a make-shift den in your apartment. he truly appreciates his s/o's support during the wintertime, sending them thankful glances whenever they bring him food, water, and extra blankets. when he is awake it's only for a short while, and you make sure to savor it. the two of you will often cuddle for warmth while he eventually dozes off. just don't let him fall asleep on top of you. unless you're incredibly strong, you'll be stuck there for a while.

yes, you can pet him. just as long as you're gentle, anything too rough will make him annoyed. he adores the feeling of your hand gently stroking his scaled face, gleefully leaning into your touches with closed eyes.

being the lizard has given curt a new sense of confidence, feeling invigorated and powerful in his new form. he tends to be more daring and flirtatious with you, enjoying making you blush.

sometimes instead of kissing his s/o he'll lick their cheek and they'll be a bit soggy, but thankful nonetheless!

also lizards love him so much now and the herpetologist is now an adoptive father. he'll literally come home with like 10 tiny lizards following him and go, "oh I didn't see you there! okay I guess you'll stay with me now!"

overall things can be different when he's in his lizard form, but his s/o doesn't love him any less

[hotwings0203]

An Ode to the Unseen

Thinkin about readers who feel self conscious, readers who feel like they’re not happy with their weight, readers who don’t feel girly enough or feel too vulnerable because of whatever height they’re at. I’m thinkin about readers who suffer from body dysmorphia, who shy away from looking at themselves in the mirror to avoid seeing their scars, body hair or acne. This is for the readers who feel too submissive and feel like a pushover in their lives, and this is for the readers who feel like they’re too fiesty and not soft enough. It doesn’t matter if you feel like you can’t relate to the stereotypical tropes in writing, or if you feel like you can’t act like a perfectly constructed Y/N in real life, this ones for you💖

A/N: Hello to all reading! I made this on a whim just to tackle some of the insecurities lesser described characters in stories might feel, but this is in no way meant to exclude anyone at all! We all have beautiful bodies, and should own up to it even if we don’t always see the problems we face in writing. Some of these topics might be sensitive to readers or trigger memories that might be disturbing to others, so please heed the warnings! Also the Hawks prompt at the end gets pretty nsfw, so heads up for that hehe

CW: dubcon, manipulating, fluff, slight angst, EDs, body dysmorphia, kidnapping, abuse, degradation, some nsfw, yandere, language, insecurity

You’re ever feeling not particularly happy with your face or body because of an acne breakout, or a rash that won’t go away? Maybe a birthmark that you try to cover up with makeup? Even stretch marks or scars from surgery?

You can bet your ass shigaraki will notice the way you can barely glance at the mirror some days just so you don’t have to see your own reflection when it’s time to go to bed with him.

His obvious and intense stare makes you fidget and gets your skin crawling, but he says nothing that night when he holds you a little too tightly-tighter than most nights he’s with you. The sound of his raspy breaths lulls you to sleep, but when you wake up he’s already gone, out on another mission or at a meeting with the Yakuza.

You feel groggy and gross, and going to the bathroom just to look in the mirror again to see whatever ails your body and/or face does nothing to stop your groan of misery.

You do your business all while turning away from your reflection, not wanting to see a second more of your discontentment staring right back at you while you wash your face, brush your teeth, and meticulously do your hair.

Finally making your way downstairs to the bar, you sit on one of the barstools and hold your head in your hands, not wanting to meet anyone’s gaze and no doubt seeing their disgust at your ailment.

But you look up when a soft whirring sound and purple-black tendrils of smoke appear before you

“Young master L/N,” Kurogiri says. “Have you been feeling alright? You retired earlier last night and had the most uncomfortable of expressions on your face, I couldn’t help but notice.”

No matter how much you despised or were wary of Tomura, you knew his caretaker, Kurogiri, had your back. He was respectful of your space, and if he knew you weren’t in the mood for talking then he wouldn’t push you

And so you told him your predicament, opening up about your problem spot(s)

“It’s so embarrassing, Kurogiri. I feel gross and I feel like everyone’s looking at me,” you mumble, putting your head down on the cool polished wood countertop.

He’s silent for a moment or two, before the tendrils of his supposed hands warp into a small portals. They appear again immediately, producing a couple of bottles and place them in front of you.

You raise your head slightly at the sound of sloshing liquid and rattling pills as the bottles are lined up before you in an orderly fashion, and you eye them suspiciously.

“What’s this?” You ask, picking up a tube as your curiosity is piqued.

“Young master Tomura Shigaraki had warned me beforehand of your reclusive nature when you ponder on what cannot be controlled, and sent me a list this morning to pick up some medication that might help you, should you need it. He asked me to bring back every item as soon as possible, so you wouldn’t feel the need to procure anything by yourself and strain yourself unnecessarily.”

You scoff, not buying the surprising act of affection. “So, what, he’s just doing this so he doesn’t have to look at my disgusting (body part of choice) anymore? He wants to come back and see some perfectly molded pet to stare at all day?”

Kurogiri shakes his head, however.

“I know how the young master is perceived to many: abrasive, immature, and brash in his thoughts and actions. He has a long way to go in terms of maturing in the way he views things, and unfortunately he was not blessed with…the best of upbringings, so he truly doesn’t know any better, as you already know.”

You wince internally, feeling slightly guilty now.

“But,” he continues slowly, “he was not born with evil in his heart. He’s just bitter with society, and is desperate for others to know his pain and see the world for what it really is towards those who are suffering. That’s why he is so taken with you, young L/N. Before you came here, he observed your mannerisms and was thoroughly attracted to the way you could see through people’s surface level facades. Although your views on the world may differ here and there, he is desperate to show you that he understands your suffering, and that he’s there for you-“

“-yeah, well, he has a funny way of showing it,” you mutter darkly, memories of chains and dark rooms and various marks on your body flashing through your mind. Even if Kurogiri was telling the truth, it would take some time for you to come around and even begin to try to give yourself to Shigaraki. He was just too volatile, too rough and negligent of your wants and needs. He lashed out at everything you did, and made you feel like nothing you ever did was enough to please his shifty nature.

“Yes, I can understand you bitter feelings towards him,” the black and purple mass hummed in thought. “I have tried explaining how a human girl is to be treated, however, and he is slowly trying to learn. I feel as though he may feel embarrassed at times from his lack of knowledge at such simple social norms, and that is another factor of his frequent temper tantrums. He might be the leader of a powerful villain organization, but when he realizes he has no knowledge of making friends or keeping relationships, it’s an embarrassing blow to his ego. Especially with you, he is especially sentimental and touchy regarding topics that pertain to you. He often will sit here in silence after you two have a, uh, little spat, and hesitantly will seek my advice on how to make things up to you. ”

And you realize with a grimace that he’s right-there are days after you both have a big blowout(usually over the most pettiest of things, maybe you turned away from him while sleeping and he took it as a sign of disobedience, or maybe you didn’t greet him when he came back from an especially tiring mission and he used that opportunity to take his pent up stress out on you) that he’ll come back after storming out of the room only to creep back in hours later with various trinkets in his hand.

You’d be alerted of his presence when the pitch black room is blessed with a yellow ray of light from the opening creaky door as he enters, and you will yourself to continue breathing slowly, as if you were still asleep. But he’s so quiet and stealthy as he comes closer to you, it’s hard not to be surprised and flinch or jump when his arm reaches over you just to place one of your favorite snacks on the cracked dresser next to you.

It’s hard to keep your head down on the dusty pillow and keep your curiosity in check when you feel him breathing down your neck as he lays a stuffed animal on the blanket next to you, and you often wonder where he knows to buy such fragile and innocent things.

Your aesthetic that he so closely has memorized from each singular color to the details of your favorite patterns make a stark, disturbing contrast to his greying, deadly aura. It’s almost impressive that he pertains each gift to your taste when he’s feeling especially sorrowful

“But nevertheless, the master has asked me relinquish these to you as soon as you came downstairs. And, just between me and you,” he leans closer and you do too, finding yourself wanting to know this secret side of your captor even further, “he was muttering something as he left, something along the lines of not wanting you to feel like you had to use these products. I think he was trying to say that he never wants you to feel as though you have to make up any part of your body you feel insecure about to him. He wants you to stay the same way you always are, and if you never adjust to your surroundings here, then he at the very least wants you to be comfortable in your own skin, blemishes and all.”

“This may or may not come as a surprise to you, but he himself knows what it’s like to feel insecure about his own skin and body,” and it comes across so ridiculously innocent and striking to you that such a lethal character such as the infamous Shigaraki would have the same problems a normal, functioning member of society would have: skincare and body insecurity. But the lines, scratches, and scars that litter his face can attest to this notion. How often did he himself avoid looking in the mirror for, not wanting to see his translucent skin, the clawmarks that left bright, angry trails up his face and down the sides of his neck, the cracks in and around his lips and eyes? Is that why he left his hair down skit covered his face, and the hand on top covering him whole more often on than not?

And so you finally open the lid to the tube, testing the feel of its contents that promise your mutinous skin some time of relief.

The door suddenly bangs open, and the man of the hour himself slinks in, nails idly scratching the underside of his jaw as he mutters under his breath to himself.

He lifts his head and sees you and kurogiri at the bar, a tube of ointment in your hand , the lid opened in testing as the rest of his presents are in array all around you.

As if you were accepting them.

As if you were accepting him

He feels his face beat up and his deteriorating body starts to prickle and sweat. He merely scratches harder, his mumbling continuing as he slowly makes his way over to you

You watch his little unsure shuffled towards you, and you can’t help it when your heart twinges as you take in his hopeful yet cautious expression, no matter how hard he tries to stifle any vulnerable emotion

So, in a moments decision of truce you quickly lean forward to whisper to Kurogiri one last favor before turning to see a new light of your captor

“Before I go, I need some things from you, please. By tonight, do you think you could pick up some self care things at the corner store for me? I’m talking face masks, lotions, Vaseline, and hair products.”

“I think if I see him accept himself and care for the body he’s in least for one night, I could be happy in my skin, too.”

Feeling conscious about your weight, whether it’s over or under your preferred look? Please, don’t make Kiri laugh at your naivety

You groaned as you stood on the scale, the numbers reading back at you seeming more mocking than simple statistics

You weren’t meeting your preferred weight, and it was beginning to take a harsher toll on you now more than ever with Kiri around all the time

It was easier to ignore it when you lived by yourself in secluded bliss, where the walls of where you lived couldn’t talk or pass judgement about your eating habits, the times you did or didn’t keep up with yourself as months of promising to do the Chloe Ting workouts turned into forgetful reminders that dwindled down into barely passing thoughts.

Where you had your own, carefully chosen friends who could relate and share the secrets of their insecurities, the little area of pudge that just won’t go away, that upper area of their arms of legs that refused to build muscle even after months of eating straight protein and going to the gym.

You got to choose your own happiness, you got to choose if you wanted to spend countless hours scrolling through social media with your coworkers, gazing in envy at the hundreds of models people swooned over, or if you wanted to call it a day and eat a whole bucket of cookies and cream ice cream while watching a sappy rom com, just because it made you happy

But now, not so much

You could tolerate Kiri gradually distancing yourself from friends who he thought didn’t have the “best interests” for you

You could patiently follow the chipper rules of his house to wait for him when he got home, greet him at the door in nice clothes, and sit down to eat dinner with him

You even started getting used to having his eccentric, loud friends over who bustled and teased you around when Kiri invited them over for a boys night even if that “boys night” ended in them being hurriedly ushered out as he caught a glimpse of you in an accidentally-provocative apron

But your sanity and self worth was slowly started to snap like an overstretched rubber band when it came to trusting your body. Your mutinous, betraying body that just didn’t do what you fucking wanted it to do, that was constantly compared to the models friends Kirishima would bring around, like Mina and Jirou

They were angels, of course, so, so sweet to you

Constantly reassuring you that the new dress your captor boyfriend practically shoved you in in his eagerness to see you in red (his color) fit oh so well on you

They tried to convince you that no, the dress wasn’t stretched too tight on you to be considered healthy, and no, it didn’t need to be shrank in some places either

They tried, they really did

Unfortunately for them however, their relentless support didn’t hold a candle’s light to the body builders and Pilates instructors Kiri would model with for health magazines almost every month

They could never understand what it was like to be in constant doubt and shame when you feel your seemingly mismatched figure, their bodies reflecting healthy proportions in every nook and corner, skin and smooth and soft as a baby’s, with glowing reflections of perspiration

And you always seemed like the only poor unfortunate soul who sat in the corner, sulking and watching ripped muscles and leaned, toned limbs mingle amongst each other to socialize and effortlessly slide inside various apparel that of course fit their body and shaped them in ways you couldn’t even dream of

And it didn’t help that night after night, Kiri would hold you on his lap, bouncing his eager knee as he shoveled bite after bite of food into your unwilling mouth

He infantilized the hell out of you, convinced you were too naive and self-loathing to see your true beauty and how he had to take it on himself to show you what he saw in you

It made you feel pathetic, and helpless. Maybe that’s what you were though, maybe that’s really what he was trying to show you

You felt like you deserved it, anyways

So you stand there, on the weighing machine, feeling the last shreds of self confidence slip down and out of your body, akin to the light tears that splash on the marble bathroom floor.

“Babe? What’re you doing?”

Aw, fuck

You quickly brushed away your tears and stifled your imminent sobs to avoid being coddled as usual by the gentle giant who stood behind you

It frustrated him to no end, no doubt. It didn’t matter how often he’d sit you down and kiss you all over, letting you know how much he loved every precious inch of your body, it didn’t matter how gently he’d cradle your face to force you to look into his eyes just to tell you how beautiful you were, how lucky he is to have kidnapped you

It was never enough for your fragile heart, and he saw it in the way you flinched under his praise and shrunk under his loving gaze that raked over your body that he compared to an angel’s

As if you thought he was a liar, just saying it for your sake

As if you didn’t believe his words, as if you didn’t want to believe his words

As if you were disobeying him

“It-its nothing Kiri, just PMS,” you mumbled, the snot in your nose making you sound nasaly and shaky

“Your period was two weeks ago, and none of your symptoms have ever made you throw up.” He says with a raised eyebrow, his arms crossing as he leans against the doorframe

So he did see you slip out after dinner and head straight for the toilet, huh?

Busted

If he wasn’t so worried about you, he would’ve ditched the mild tone kept up for your sake and had you bent over one knee with a red ass just for lying to him

But from the way you quickly step off the scale and attempt to squeeze past him tells him you aren’t just being hard-to-get, you’re not in one of your resistance fits

And he thinks he knows exactly what’s causing you to not-so-subtly shift your eyes from the weighing scale back to your own body, as if you hadn’t already been doing that for weeks now

He just has to make sure

“Did someone say something to you?” He catches your arm and gently yet firmly prevents you from slipping past him outside the bathroom, away from him

“No, no, seriously I just felt sick, I think I ate something weird,” you try to laugh breezily but the waver in your voice does nothing but further increase Kirishima’s aching heart for you

“You sure? ‘Sure I don’t need to go talk to someone who maybe said the wrong thing to you?” And although his cheerful voice holds nothing but playful jest, the dark glint in his eye does nothing to indicate that all he wants is a friendly talk, especially when he tightens his grip on your arm and pulls you so close that you’re nose to nose with him, looking right at him with tears eyes and flushed cheeks

There’s no point in pretending anymore. He might seem like an airhead, but he’s not one of the city’s top hero because of his airy, gentle nature

“Ugh, no Kiri, no one said anything to me. I just…” you trail off, not wanting to feel the inevitable embarrassment you’ll feel when you tell him the truth

How disgusting you feel when you see his buff, toned, chiseled body that’s akin to a Greek God’s compared to yours

How you long to secretly have the right figure to one day be worthy enough to be deemed his partner in a modeling gig, just once, just to feel like you’re worthy of him and his equivalently built body, a body that reflects hard work and perseverance

Something you seldom see or feel in your own mass of distorted limbs

“What is it?” He pleads softly, begging you to let him fix anything for you, to let him be a man good enough for you

You look into his ruby red eyes that hold a puppy-in-love expression, and when you find only adoration for you in them, you can’t help yourself for falling into the trust and care you so desperately want in that moment

“I’m…so tired of not feeling good about myself. About feeling overweight, underweight, seeing bits of pudge and flab in one area and then seeing some thin and gangly areas in others. Like, I just want my body to be normal, to be healthy like all the people you model with. I feel like nothing I do or eat or wear makes my body look how I want it to look, and no matter how much I try it’s so hard for me to see the beauty of what you see in it.”

And finally you can’t bear looking at him anymore, so you squeeze your eyes shut and turn away

Much to his credit, he pulls you in and nestles your head against his chest, letting your tears and snot wet his tank top

“Oh hun, is that all this is?”

You roll your eyes and try to pull back from his chest, but he doesn’t allow it as he simply holds you there, shushing you and rocking you back and forth

“Kiri, that’s a pretty big thing for me.”

“I know, but…why are you so concerned about how they look anyways? I mean, that’s their job, right? To look good for pictures!”

“I don’t understand,” your voice comes out muffled against his shirt.

“What I’m saying is,” he chuckles and soothes a hand through your hair, “is that you shouldn’t compare yourself to people that have nothing to do with your daily life. Like, you wouldn’t compare yourself to a firefighter right? ‘Cuz thats their job, to save people, not yours. Similarly with models and shit, that’s their job to look good. You didn��t sign up to be a model, so you shouldn’t stress yourself to look like them. Plus, it’s not like it has any affect on what kind of person you are on the inside, you feel me? I’ve met some pretty nasty and rude people with killer bodies, but can you guess how much respect I had for them?”

You nod slowly, still not fully grasping his confusing logic but sort of getting the underlying meaning to it

“But it’s hard not to compare my body to theirs when you’re constantly around them.” You admit. “It feels like I’m not good enough either to be next to you when I’m just sitting on my ass, not doing anything” You grip his shirt and let the last of your tears out, accepting his soft and heavy hands stroking against your back and up and down your shoulders

“So? Do you ever see Sero or Denki modeling next to me? Or Mina and Jirou?”

He did have a point.

“No,” you say slowly.

“Exactly, because models and bodybuilders have a job to dedicate themselves to a life of working out. They do it because that’s what a majority of their life goes to get paid for. It’s all superficial, that’s not how the average person is, like the friends I mentioned. Otherwise the whole world would be full of people walking around with ripped abs and giant pecs. Could you imagine some lanky dude like Denki sporting a 12-pack and ripped pecs?”

“Hell no,” you laugh breathlessly, the image so horrifying to you both that you feel the vibrations of his boisterous laughter rumble through you and soothe your emotions.

“Now you’re getting it,” he speaks into your hair, the smell of your shampoo flooding his senses and getting him dizzy along with a treacherously rising boner

“Plus, what kind of man would I be if I picked my girl out just because of the way she looked? I mean, don’t get me wrong, you’re beautiful-no, beautiful can’t even begin to describe you. Your palms feel so soft compared to mine, your arms are so beautiful when my hands are wrapped around them, your thighs are just the right size, your stomach is such a comfy pillow for me to lay on, and don’t forget your plush, slick, tight pu-“ he rambles on and you can’t help but yelp and clap a hand over his overworked mouth as his shower of body positivity starts turning more lewd…attesting to the bulge you begin to feel pressing against your leg.

But it’s funny, you can’t seem to find yourself being mad at him as your face flushes and you see not ill-intent and perverseness in his warm eyes, but pure and honest devotion to you and to the words he truly means

It softens your heart, and you use a finger from the hand smushing against his mouth to lift and stroke the side of his cheek, conveying your gratitude to him.

It seems he understands, as he takes his forced moment of silence with patience and just looks at you, hoping this time you could really see what he felt for you.

“The thing is,” he says after a minute, gently taking your hand away and turning you around so that you both were facing the mirror, “I love you because of who you are. If I wanted to date some model, I would’ve done it by now, trust me,” and you swat your hand against his chest as he stifles a laugh and turns you to look at your own reflection in the mirror.

“I didn’t take you just for your body. I took you because of the way you smile, the way your laugh is so soft sometimes and then all roudy and crazy and loud the next. I love you because of how passionate you talk about the things you like, the way you deal with problems, the way you treat others. All these things make me want you, so damn bad.”

He lightly rocks his hips into your backside so you can really feel how much he wants you, and you let out a soft gasp

He doesn’t let you move, however, he just holds one wrist in his meaty palm and holds your jaw in the other, positioning you so that you meet his wondrous gaze in the clear reflection.

He knew he was never known to be the smartest in his class, having Bakugo drag him by the teeth to pass class itself, so he hoped you could overlook his lack of vocabulary that so desperately was trying to tell you that loving you went even beyond anything he could barely articulate.

Leaning towards your ear, his breath tickles your lobe as his sharp teeth graze over your goosebump-riddled flesh.

“And if it takes all night to show you how much you and your perfect body mean to me, I’ll gladly take out any words that don’t do the job and show you physically how I feel. And just the way you are, too.”

If there’s one man who could not give one less of a fuck about how dainty, small, feminine, or easy to handle you may or not be, it’s the birdman himself: Hawks

Running errands with him when he allowed it was hell, though it should’ve been a paradise you felt owed for.

It was bad enough that when you hesitantly asked him what would look good enough to wear when you walked next to him as the Number Two hero’s captive girlfriend, he merely shrugged and said “Whatever you want.”

Which was not of any help, due to his excessive mood swings and possessiveness spiking at the most seemingly harmless things, such as you talking to the checkout worker at a branded store, wearing a skirt that he deemed was for “sluts who put out for attention”, or even not looking directly at him enough when he was talking to you.

So just to play it safe, you decided to wear jeans and a cute blouse, one that you thought did well for your figure and yet remained modest enough for Keigo’s liking.

He gave you a warning look before opening the door outside, silently telling you to behave yourself in public

You always did, of course.

It was never enough to keep him less suspicious of you regardless.

Deciding to bag some groceries first, he kept a tight grip with your hand as you both inconspicuously tried to navigate the winding back alleys, avoiding people and waiting in intervals to pass the street

He had a black cap on with a red feather embroidered at the top, sunglasses and a beige and white jacket that had a high collar for covering his face-you might be lucky to have the freedom to wear what you wanted to a certain extent but Hawks wasn’t so lucky

His wings, of course, couldn’t be concealed regardless of what he wore

The two of you luckily manage to snag a few stores here and there, the groceries in both his and your arms weighing down on your bodies, his feathers doing little aid to help when his wings started sagging under the bulk as well

Which is where you both were finally caught by a gaggle of fangirls

You passed the cafe they gathered around outside, and barely had time to register their squints of suspicion at Hawks and his poorly-shrunken vermillion wings before you heard squeals of recognition coming from their group a couple feet back

He swore under his breath, crushing your hand in a death grip and attempting to speed up further away from them

But the Number Two hero wasnt fast enough for his own good, this time

It was almost inhuman how quickly they caught up to you and swarmed around, effectively cutting you two off from trying to escape

They shoved papers, phones, various body parts and markers in his face, trying to get him to sign each and every article they had on themselves

And poor you were caught in the midst of it, being carelessly jostled around as each girl tried to force her way closer to him

The volume of their excited devotion and praise of him was making your head hurt, and you wondered how Hawks was managing to put up such a flawless, easygoing smile and responding to all their questions and comments without having a panic attack or snapping at them

After a minute or two of pure chaos, with the help of numerous feathers the hero-now-victim finished most of the autographs.

“Well, girls, thank you so much for your support and time, but me and my lady should get going now-“

“-wait, that’s your girlfriend?” One asks pointing at you in disbelief

You give her a weak smile and little wave

“Yup, the one and only!” Hawks beams at you with pride, holding you in an endearing headlock

“Wow…you guys are so cute!” Another chimes in after a few moments of silence, and you try your hardest not to fall into your same old patterns, to not embrace your old thoughts and insecurities with such open arms

But old habits die hard, and they certainly aren’t dead yet

Especially when the first girl thrusts a shiny phone at you, fluttering her lashes and baring her teeth in a poor imitation of a smile. “Would you be a dear and take a picture of all of us with him?”

“Uhh, sure, yeah, no problem.” You decide that getting this whole ordeal over quicker would be the best option for you

But as quick as you want this to pass, you can’t help but take an extra second to see the difference in your hands and hers when you take the phone from her hand

While her smooth, small and soft hands are seemingly unmarked, her acrylics accentuating her feminine form, you feel as though your larger ones should hide in shame in comparison

You’re not a slob, not by any means when you go out with him. But what was previously just you feeling comfortable in your own skin of knuckle hair, cuticles here and there, and nails bitten short from the cold stand anxiety of living with such a volatile man starts to turn into a realization of how different you are to these people who are trimmed to perfection

You shake off the sinking feeling in your heart and back up with the phone as the rest of the girls and Keigo line up for posing

The details in the phone camera do nothing to ease your growing timidity

The screen reflects what you see right in front of you- smooth hair, not a frizzy strand in sight blowing with the wind, perfectly manicured hands that are so delicate and small compared to your boyfriends’ gripping his upper arms, desperate to feel the hero’s assets.

They’re all at a perfect height with him too, the heels and boots they wear so easily lining them up at his chest level so they have a perfect view of his pecs and upwards

All of them are so beautiful and uniform, so dainty and careful with themselves. If one of them said that they were dating Hawks, you’d believe that they were worthy of it too

You snap the picture and hand the device over, trying to hide your trembling bottom lip and frigid hands

The girls thank Hawks a plethora of times, give you some once-overs as well as slight sneers and faux waves, and you both head on your way back home again

You’re quiet that night while making dinner

It’s chicken pad thai, one of his favorite dishes handmade by you

No matter how shit you feel your cooking is, he insists you make him a 3 course meal while he takes a shower, leaving a feather behind to watch over you

Usually it’s fine, usually you ignore or absentmindedly swat away the plumage’s less-than-innocent rendezvous trailing around your body, floating behind your neck to tickle you, “accidentally “ falling in your shirt or wedging itself down your pants (no doubt commanded so by Hawks)

But today, it’s silent and still, precariously perched on the edge of the kitchen counter as it observed and picks up the various sounds and vibrations of your movement as you bustle around the kitchen

It picks up on the way you chop the onions a little too aggressively with your large, clumsy fucking hands

Another reminder of how different you are than the average Hawks Fangirl ™

How they sashay and swing their hips around in a perfect circle when approaching him, while you stumble and trip over your own damn feet, the epitome of clumsiness and gracelessness

The feet which never endow heels or boots often because of the height difference it gives you and Keigo, because of the way you try desperately to adorn different slouches and postures to not look so out of place and awkward around him

And while you’re stirring the pasta in its sauce, the feather also picks up on the rhythm of your shattered heart

Shattered so when you remember how the girls sneered at you because you weren’t femme fatale like them, how you just stood there like a fucking mannequin while they cooed well placed praise, and how eloquent sentences flowed from their tongue like honey

You could only wish you ever spoke like they did, or adopted any of their mannerisms that seemed so natural and effortless like them

Your aching heart thudded dully while you scrutinized your miserable self, and flared up into a kicking rate when you realized you shouldn’t even care what your captor or any of his fan girls thinks

In fact, this was all his fault.

You slammed your mixer down, tapping your fingers against the countertop deep on thought

The vibrations the feather picked up was the last straw of its patience, as it alerted its owner to come and address you

Mumbling under your breath at your predicament, you banged around pots and spoons in your anger, failing to notice the plumage silently join its approaching owner, the water from his shower dripping down his wet shoulders and hair

“What’s goin’ on chickadee? It sounds like you’re tryina’ tear down the kitchen.”

You barely spare him a glance over your shoulder as you take in his bare torso, only a towel wrapped around his midriff

“Nothing. Just finishing up dinner,” you mumble.

“It doesn’t sound like nothing. It sounds like your hearts racing a mile a minute. So I’ll ask you again- what are you so upset?”

He yanks a stirring spoon from your hand and uses his grand wings to turn you towards him, a condescending pout on his face as he amusedly takes in your furrowed eyebrows, heated up cheeks and shaking fists.

He wants to keep pushing me? Fine, then I can play his little game

“You wanna know why I’m upset? I’m upset because I’m here against my will, creating problems for myself that I never even wanted in the first place!”

You jab a finger into his chest and his eyes narrow at your impertinent tone.

“Now wait a sec’-“ but you cut him off immediately, nose to nose with him now as you continue to blare at him

“I’m upset because I never feel fucking good enough for my kidnapper. How pathetic is that? Any time I have to beg you on all fours like a fucking dog to go outside I end up regretting it, ‘cause all I see is how flawed I am!”

He’s staring at you with wide eyes now, actually bewildered at the turn your ranting came to. So it’s not just about being kept here against your will, you’re actually upset about not feeling good enough for him?

“Those girls today…they were so perfect and feminine and beautiful and they had such small fucking hands that would fit perfectly in yours like mine never do, and perfectly pedicured feet, and had such pretty voices, fuck, I mean I’d date them too if I were you!”

You ignore the rage and bafflement in his expression, he looks at you like you’re crazy and maybe for the moment you are as you keep mouthing off to him

“So why don’t you, huh? I mean I only go out with you a couple times a year, but you see them almost every day! Girls who have hair that flows like goddamn waterfalls, girls who you could pick up and throw around so easily or at least girls you’re not embarrassed of.”

“I’m clumsy, I can’t walk with grace, I’m not at a height that’s easy for you to look at me with or thats even considered sexy, I probably don’t even weigh anything around you that people would call worthy of being some fit bitch for you!”

At this, you sink to your knees in front of him, almost spent out. You can’t bear for him to see your face, no doubt scrunched up in tears and snot with mussed strands hovering around your face like you just got electrocuted.

Another thing to ridicule yourself about, a fucking crying face. You don’t want him to see another ugly trait about you that he no doubt will snicker about behind your back.

“Isn’t that why you never let me out? Because I’m not cute or good material for tabloids, right? I don’t look good enough or act right for the Number Two hero, and that’s why you’re embarrassed, right? It’s been so long since I tried to last leave so I know you trust me-that means the only reason you hate going out with me and covering yourself up is because you can’t stand to be seen with such a fugly-“

“That’s enough.” His cold voice booms louder than yours, and you startle at that.

“Look at me, Y/N.” The tone at which he speaks leaves no room for argument, but when you continue to look down he snarls and detaches a feather, forcing your head up with it.

“You keep calling yourself all these things, but don’t tell me that moronic is another word you’re gonna add on, right? I mean you can’t possibly be that stupid enough to believe all those things you just said.”

You glare at him, sure that this was just a way for him to get you to shut up.

“I thought living with the Number Two hero would let some intellect rub off on you, but I guess it’s the complete opposite, if anything. Because you seem to have forgotten your place in my house.”

You yelp when suddenly a multitude of other feathers zoom towards you, pulling at your limbs and clothes as they lift you into the air, suspended to a height a couple of feet above Hawks’ eye level.

He just stands there with an eerie smirk on his face as he watches you flail around midair, trying to regain your balance.

“It doesn’t matter if you’re 6’3 and have bigger hands than me.”

With a flick of his finger, the feathers are directed to slam your body into the ground, leaving you wheezing on your back.

“And it doesn’t matter if you’re 4’7 and fall over yourself every time I call for you.”

He stands above you now, hands in his pockets and he smiles down at your curled up body. You look at him cautiously, unsure of what he’s playing at.

“You’re mind because I want you. I want everything about you, your heart, your mannerisms, your soul, your movements-they all belong to me and only me.”

He crouches down to a kneel, gently running a hand through your hair before turning it into a fist and yanking your head up to face him.

“And there isn’t a goddamn thing that’s gonna stop me from having you, when I want, and how I want. You think you have a chance of leaving me, or me leaving you when I, in your words, ‘go out and see beautiful girls like that all the time?’ If I haven’t left you for them by now, I sure as hell never will.”

You decide for now to take the backhanded compliment about being able to leave in silence. In a messed up way, he was proving his loyalty, and right now you needed all the reassurance you could get.

“And why the hell do you care how you look in public anyways, huh? Are you trying to seduce someone?”

You frantically object, and he sneers at your desperation. “Good, because it should only matter what I think, and you wanna know what I think?”

You stare at him wide eyed now as he pulls your head closer to him

���I don’t give a flying fuck if you think you’re some foxy slut or if you feel like a clumsy oaf. Because you wanna know why?”

He starts unzipping his fly with a handy feather, and you mentally berate yourself for pushing him to a point where he has to ‘prove his love’ to you, knowing where this was heading.

“Because when you’re sucking my cock or lying underneath me, it doesn’t matter how tall or short you are. When I tell you to take your clothes off and hump my foot like the good little bitch in heat you are, I don’t care how much you weigh. I’m still choosing you to be my fuckmeat, my obedient play-toy when I want, and I’m doing it with all your ‘flaws’, aren’t I? ”

You cringe when his tongue flicks out against your earlobe and down your jaw, your endeavors of trying to shove him away proving fruitless as he just snarls and bites your neck.

“Even if you think you don’t have the prettiest, smallest, biggest, or smoothest hands, they’re still the hands I’m choosing to play with my balls, yeah? I mean, you should be proud of your fucking sexy and lewd body…look at what it does to me.”

He gestures to his exposed member now which is hard against your thigh. You bite back a whimper as he begins to tear open your shirt with one free hand as the other slips down your pants.

“So be a good girl and show me how proud you are of being mine.”

[the-lady-of-stars]

Keep your Captains Close

Captain Rex x Reader

Requested by the lovely @pinkiemme  (and a lovely anon!) 💕💕 hope you enjoy, honey bees!!! I thought your prompts would go well with each other so I've combined them, hope thats okay!

Prompts: “Have you ever kissed someone before?”     *Touch-starved*    “I had a nightmare about you and wanted to make sure you were okay”

The cot in your tent was by no means warm as you shrouded yourself in the standard military blanket. In fact it might as well not have been there at all, as the bitter air of Hoth sunk into your bones. 

The campaign had been difficult so far, and it didn’t seem to be easing up any time soon so you figured that any rest you could salvage would be a blessing, but try as you might you just couldn’t get it to happen. 

The sound of snow crunching beneath boots just outside the flap of your tent caught your attention, and the familiar force signature notified you that it was your Captain who seemed to be lingering there. He hesitated, you noticed, the shadow of his figure swaying lightly as though he were deciding whether to leave or enter. Naturally you made the decision for him. 

“Come in,” you called, just loud enough to alert Rex without waking any of your men who you could hear snoring in the surrounding area. 

Rex paused for a moment, as if he hadn’t been expecting you to notice him, then carefully peeled apart the velcro of the tent door and slid inside. You sat up to greet him, turning on the lamp that was perched on a crate next to your cot.

“Hey Captain, you okay?” you smiled up at Rex. 

You observed as his eyes widened nervously, fingers fidgeting. He opened his mouth to speak but the words were caught in his throat. He cleared it, gathering  his confidence before speaking his mind. 

“I- uh, I just-” Rex sighed in annoyance, shaking his head. “It’s nothing. Sorry to have disturbed you, General.” 

Before he could turn to leave you were up out of bed, grasping at his forearm to keep him with you. 

“Hey, no, it’s alright. C’mon you can tell me. What’s bothering you, Rex?”

The man refused to meet your eyes as he spoke, gazing down at his feet like he’d never seen them before.

“I- had a nightmare. That’s all, sir.”

“A nightmare? Oh, I’m sorry. Do you want to talk about it? And there’s no need for formality here Rex, you know my name.”

“I wouldn’t want to bother you any further, sir- uh, Y/N.”

“You’re never a bother to me, Rex. Come, sit.” you spoke softly to the Captain, sliding your hand down into his and tugging him to sit on your cot. You watched him expectantly, leaving your hand in his until he was ready to talk. He broke the silence.

“It was about you.”

“Me?”

“Yes. Specifically the mission to Umbara, the things General Krell did to you. He told us you had left because you were needed back at the temple, and of course we believed him. What need would a Jedi have to lie to us? That was before we knew what he was like. I’d never have guessed that he’d just wanted you out of the way so that he could carry out his plan undetected. The way we found you-” he grimaced, eyes squinting shut and shaking his head as though to clear it. “I couldn’t believe that a Jedi could just leave you tied up to die like that. Stars, the bruises all over you, and the blood. I just can't seem to forget it.”

Rex bowed his head, sighing deeply. You clasped his hands tighter, rubbing your thumbs over them. Sweet Rex. Loyal Rex. Always the perfect soldier, caring about each and every member of his battalion.

“Rex, look at me,” you cooed. Slowly he looked up to meet your eyes, his own looking soft and broken. “Without you I’d never have made it out of Umbara alive. None of us could have known what Krell was up to, even the highest ranking masters on the council fell for his lies. I’ll admit, I lost hope when he tried to get rid of me, I thought I’d never see any of you boys again, but when you found me? I knew then that everything would be alright. That I’d always be safe and looked after, that no one could outsmart the legendary five-oh-first.”

Rex huffed a laugh at that, a smile pulling at his lips. 

“There you go. You look better with a smile on your face, Captain.”

Rex felt his face grow hot, eyelids fluttering nervously. There he was, sat holding hands with his General, the prettiest General in the GAR, no less. He couldn’t think of a response, too pre-ocuppied by how soft the touch of your hands was, how they fitted in his like they were meant to be that way. Before he could thank you, Rex noticed a puff of breath escaping your mouth and swirling into the freezing air. Your hands in his were trembling from the cold, and your shoulders were tensed inward to preserve what little heat was there. 

“Ah, what am I doing. I’ve gotten you out of your cot and now you’re freezing. Please don’t let me keep you cold any longer.” 

Rex was about to leave when your soft sound of protest met his ears, fingers linking into his. 

“Wait- what if...” you trailed off, feeling nerves swirl in your stomach.

“If?” he prompted.

“What if you stayed? We’d both benefit from it, I think. You could keep me warm and I could keep you safe from nightmares?”

This time it was you who couldn't bring yourself to meet Rex’s eyes. 

“Y-yeah,” he stuttered, shyness radiating from him through the force. “Yeah okay.”

You smiled nervously at him before shuffling back, scooting under the covers and holding the blanket up in invitation. Rex slipped off his armour, leaving him in just his blacks then slid in next to you. 

At first he was stiff as you threw the blanket over him. He was facing you on his side, body rigid, the posture of a soldier even when lying down. That was until he noticed you tremble again, and he knew more than anyone the inefficiency of the GAR issued blankets. He sucked in a breath in preparation for what he was about to do. 

“C’mere,” he spoke soothingly, shuffling so that you were pressed up against each other, then throwing an arm over your waist. “That better?”

Rex found the tension leaving his body as he laughed at the blissful sigh you offered him in response. 

“I’ll take that as a yes. Must be the fact that you're in such good company,” he joked, feeling your upper body shake in a laugh. 

Rex had only ever been in contact with his brothers; leaning on them in the gunship after long campaigns, holding them as they wept over the loss of a brother, those long nights where he’d join them as they slept in a pile on the floor to ward off each others nightmares. But holding you? It was different. 

Tender was the first word that came to Rex’s mind. He found himself focusing on the palm that was pressed against his stomach, the heat that sunk from your skin into his. The way your head was nuzzled into his chest made Rex’s heart race. You were resting so sweetly against him, trusting him to protect you, to keep you warm and safe. And in return you were taking care of him, shielding him from the terrors that haunted him when he closed his eyes. Yes, he thought, good company indeed. 

When he looked down again Rex was met with your eyes gazing up at him through your lashes, blinking slowly. His lips parted, he felt like you were stealing the very air from his lungs. 

“Rex?” you spoke so softly that he could barely hear it, his name wispy and light coming from your mouth. He hummed in place of a yes, his voice just as quiet as yours. “Have- have you ever kissed someone before?”

Rex truly felt that he might die at any moment, heart pounding and aching at your saccharine words, spoken only for him.

“N-no. I haven’t.”

“Would you like to?”

Oh, maker. Rex didn’t know what in the hells he’d done to deserve this but he’d do it all over again to hear you ask him that every day. He couldn’t bring himself to reply, only shaking his head lightly in affirmation, eyes drifting down to your lips.

His eyes fluttered closed as he felt you move closer, a gasp escaping him as your noses touched and he felt your breath fan over his mouth. Then euphoria.

The Captain melted at the feeling of your soft lips just barely brushing over his. He nuzzled against you, breathing heavily as your mouths swiped together. Eager to drown in you, Rex made the final push, gathering his courage and indulging himself in the taste of your mouth. He felt himself growing weak, toes curling and stomach raging with butterflies. For the first time in his life, Rex felt truly, deeply loved, as though this was the moment that everything in his life had been building up to. Time seemed to freeze as he basked in your sweet lips against his own, how you touched him as though he would shatter like glass if you were too rough. For the first time in his life Rex felt bliss. 

Pulling away slowly you both panted for breath, remaining flush against each other, forgetting about every aspect of the world outside of the tent. Hells, General Grievous himself could storm into the camp right that second and Rex wouldn’t even look twice. 

And as he held you just like that in his chest all night, Rex found himself in the most peaceful sleep he’d ever had.

[azaisya]

late submission for qijiu week day 2 (curses/blessings)! have roughly 3k of lighthearted fic feat. outsider pov and getting together. rating: t

When Qi Qingqi returned from a mission with Yue Qingyuan’s unconscious body slung over one shoulder, the entirety of Cang Qiong Mountain imploded. Disciples ran everywhere like chickens with their heads cut off, and half of the Peak Lords followed suit. 

Mu Qingfang didn’t know—or care—about any of that. He was the one that Qi Qingqi dumped Yue Qingyuan’s unconscious body on, and so it was up to him to try to find a cure. 

For a sleeping curse, of all the absurd things. 

The demon had supposedly been putting entire villages to sleep so she could feast on their dreams. The stories had been alarming enough to warrant sending two Peak Lords to deal with the problem, but everybody had agreed it was probably overkill. 

Well. Apparently not.

At least Qi Qingqi had managed to behead the thing after it’d cursed Yue Qingyuan.

Demons rarely used sleeping curses. It was an impractically complicated method to get something that could be achieved with simple knockout powder or any blunt object. 

Unlike knockout powder or a blunt object, Mu Qingfang didn’t have the cure sitting readily on his shelf. 

He was just starting to sift through what he did have when the distant crash of his door slamming open interrupted his concentration. He grimaced. One of these days, Shang Qinghua was finally going to snap and go after Liu Qingge for destroying so many doors. 

“Where is he?” a voice demanded, as low and snarling and dangerous as any demon. 

Mu Qingfang hastily put down his things and made for the entrance room as the danger level ratcheted up from Liu Qingge to Shen Qingqiu. 

Sure enough, Shen Qingqiu was standing in the doorway, glaring one of Mu Qingfang’s disciples into a nervous wreck. “Tell me where he is, you sniveling brat.”

The poor boy looked like he was about to faint. Mu Qingfang came into the room and smiled pleasantly. “I would appreciate it if you could refrain from insulting my disciples, Shen-shixiong.”

Shen Qingqiu whirled on him, and the little disciple let out a squeak and ran for it. Mu Qingfang would have to scold him later, but he wouldn’t be too stern. All his disciples were terrified of Shen Qingqiu, and  for good reason. The man looked absolutely livid, his usual affected loftiness abandoned for a raw fury that even Liu Qingge couldn’t draw from him. At his hip, Xiu Ya rattled in its sheath. “Do not make me repeat myself.”

Mu Qingfang’s smile didn’t slip. “Zhangmen-shixiong is currently resting in a private room.”

“Resting,” Shen Qingqiu repeated, the word dripping with derision. He opened his fan with a sharp snap of his wrist, and his dark eyes glinted over its edge. “Let me see him.”

“Ah.” Introducing an element as volatile as Shen Qingqiu to a sick room was invariably a terrible idea. Explicitly telling him so was an even worse one. “Shen-shixiong, I’m afraid that Zhangmeng-shixiong’s state is currently very delicate. It would be best if he didn’t receive visitors right now.”

If looks could kill, Mu Qingfang would be a smear on the floor right now. “Was I asking?”

As mildly as ever, Mu Qingfang said, “I wasn’t aware that Shen-shixiong and Zhangmen-shixiong were close? If Shen-shixiong is truly so worried, then I suppose a brief visit would not be remiss.”

Shen Qingqiu’s eyes widened over his fan. “I’m not worried,” he snapped, “I am merely doing my duty, as the lord of Cang Qiong Mountain’s second peak.”

Got him. Mu Qingfang smiled, not at all smugly because he still had common sense and Shen Qingqiu still had Xiu Ya. “Shen-shixiong is truly admirable. Zhangmen-shixiong is still sleeping, and this one was just about to create a cure.”

Shen Qingqiu floundered as gracefully and loftily as he did anything else. After a beat, he closed his fan with a snap and whirled around. “Fine. Do it quickly.”

“Of course.”

Shen Qingqiu drew Xiu Ya in a dramatic sweep and leapt into the air. Mu Qingfang squinted after him. He was heading in the direction of Xian Shu Peak, which was not where he should be going if he was truly “doing his duty as the lord of Cang Qiong Mountain’s second peak.”

Which— interesting. Mu Qingfang hadn’t been aware that Yue Qingyuan’s frankly painfully obvious affections were returned with anything other than reluctant tolerance. 

He could think of no other reason for Shen Qingqiu to go haring off to Xian Shu Peak if it wasn’t to harass Qi Qingqi for more information about the demon that had cursed Yue Qingyuan. 

Well. At least that was a better use for his energy than pestering healers who had work to do. 

Mu Qingfang gave it an hour before either Shen Qingqiu or Qi Qingqi got fed up enough with each other to draw a blade, which should give him at least an hour and a half before anybody came running to him for emergency healing. 

With a sigh, he got to work. 

---

It took them forty minutes. Mu Qingfang barely resisted the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose as a hysterical Xian Shu disciple babbled about how Shen Qingqiu had attacked Qi Qingqi—

“Like a beast! For no reason at all!” the girl cried, “He’s going to kill her!” 

Mu Qingfang considered his options. He didn’t like Shen Qingqiu, but he would never deny the man the respect he deserved. He was acerbic and impossible to work with, but he would never just attack Qi Qingqi for no reason. It was far more likely that she’d snapped at him and he—in his state of heightened stress—had overreacted and then she had overreacted too. 

Mu Qingfang smiled his most dangerous smile. “I’m sorry. I don’t think I heard you properly. Would shizhi mind repeating herself?”

The girl made a vague choking sound and hastily dropped into a bow. “This humble disciple apologizes for her disrespect! She—humbly—requests that Mu-shishu sends medical aid to Xian Shu Peak!”

Mu Qingfang kept smiling, because otherwise he was going to make a very unattractive expression. “What exactly did Shen-shixiong and Qi-shijie get themselves into?”

The girl wavered, still refusing to meet his gaze. “This disciple is unsure. Guo-shijie sent this one here as a— as a precautionary measure before anything terrible happened.” 

Mu Qingfang did not have time for this. He sent her away along with a handful of his best disciples to assuage her wide-eyed look of terror and irritably returned to his work. If Shen Qingqiu or Qi Qingqi got themselves hurt badly enough to need his help, then they’d need to wait their turn.

---

Thirty minutes later, there was another knock on his door. With a heavy sigh, Mu Qingfang gathered himself and went to open it. To his surprise, Shen Qingqiu was standing outside. He had his fan raised to cover the lower half of his face, and his hair and robes were only mildly ruffled by his flight here and whatever brawl he’d gotten into with Qi Qingqi.

Mu Qingfang just smiled and waited. It would do Shen Qingqiu some good to have to actually ask for what he wanted. 

Those dark eyes narrowed over his fan. “Have you made any progress in your research?”

Mu Qingfang kept smiling, because otherwise he’d probably bang his head into the door. Did Shen Qingqiu think that constant interruptions were the ideal environment for productive work? Is that what was happening here? 

It didn’t seem like he really wanted an answer, because Shen Qingqiu continued, “Qi-shimei shared the details of the incident with me. I would like to inspect our Zhangmen-shixiong’s condition myself.” He lowered his fan to reveal a smile that suggested it wasn’t a question.

Mu Qingfang did sigh this time, because apparently Shen Qingqiu cared about Yue Qingyuan! Who knew! Definitely not somebody who’d been forced to sit through their sniping at meetings, that was for sure. “Shen-shixiong may come in,” he allowed, “so long as he maintains the peace of the chambers.”

There was no point keeping him out, after all. He was practically vibrating with stress as it was, and there was no way he wouldn’t cause some other disaster if Mu Qingfang turned him away now. 

“Of course.” Shen Qingqiu closed his fan with a snap. “No need for Mu-shidi to chaperone. I’m sure he has much to do.” Without waiting for a response, he strode past Mu Qingfang and through the door to Yue Qingyuan’s sick room. 

Which. Great. Excellent. 

Mu Qingfang spent exactly three seconds valiantly staring at his work before giving up and following after Shen Qingqiu, fully prepared to do some kind of damage control. To his surprise, the other man was standing motionless in Yue Qingyuan’s doorway, toes barely over the threshold. The hand holding his fan was white with tension. 

Cautiously, Mu Qingfang said, “Shen-shixiong is free to enter.”

Shen Qingqiu’s shoulders tensed. He turned, unfolding his fan with a smooth, languid motion and bringing it up to cover the lower half of his face as he peered at Mu Qingfang. “Mu-shidi should get back to work. Cang Qiong Mountain needs our sect leader, after all.”

Mu Qingfang stared at him. Shen Qingqiu’s eyes were the color of lakewater at its murkiest. They were a deep grey-green, and they were filled with something terrible and unreadable, something that was somehow even more frightening than his usual hissing, spitting fury.

Ah, he thought, suddenly. 

“I’ll find a cure,” he promised.

Shen Qingqiu’s fingers tightened around his fan. His eyes narrowed, as if he were about to scoff, but in the end he just looked back through the door at Yue Qingyuan’s unconscious form, arms tucked neatly at his sides and blanket drawn up to his chest. Without another word, he turned and stalked out.

---

Mu Qingfang read many, many scrolls. He looked through all his notes, attempted all his usual solutions, but the demon’s sleeping curse was tenacious. It clung stubbornly to Yue Qingyuan, locking him in dreams no matter what Mu Qingfang tried. 

In the end, there was only one solution left. 

. . . Shen Qingqiu was going to eviscerate him.

---

“Are you telling me,” Shen Qingqiu hissed, all but vibrating with poorly-disguised fury, “that the only solution is to sleep with him?!” 

“Dual cultivation with a suitably powerful partner, yes,” Mu Qingfang replied evenly, smiling as if he wasn’t sweating bullets. The other Peak Lords, summoned for an update on their sect leaders’ condition and now attempting to melt into their chairs to avoid Shen Qingqiu’s rapidly building wrath, happily avoided eye contact. Liu Qingge had probably zoned out two sentences into the meeting. 

Shen Qingqiu tilted his chin up, both dismissive and derisive all at once. “You have access to resources of the most powerful sect in the cultivation world, and the best you can give me is dual cultivation.” 

Mu Qingfang did not flinch. It would’ve been a near miss, but Shen Qingqiu’s now obvious affection and concern for Yue Qingyuan had diminished his wrath to the hissing of an overprotective kitten and also Mu Qingfang was probably running on a few too many days without sleep. So he said, “Unfortunately, yes, that is accurate.”

Shen Qingqiu’s eyes locked onto him. Several tense moments passed. Shang Qinghua, several chairs away and not at all involved in the action, was nearly purple with stress. Finally, Shen Qingqiu stepped back, drawing his anger into some secret part of himself until nothing was left but a cold, cruel elegance. “Well! How far the majesty of Cang Qiong Mountain has fallen.” His lip curled into a sardonic sneer. “If I am ever cursed and the only solution is to sleep with my unconscious corpse, then just slit my throat and put us all out of our mistry.”

Somewhere in the back of the room, somebody mumbled, “Please.”

Shen Qinggqiu’s teeth clicked together. “Mu-shidi,” he said, in the same voice that made Mu Qingfang’s disciples piss themselves, “Surely there are some books on my Qing Jing Peak that you haven’t yet looked over. How can you make a diagnosis when you haven't done all the research yet?”

Mu Qingfang considered slamming his head onto the table. Unfortunately, he doubted that Shen Qingqiu’s mood was permissive enough to allow such dramatics. 

. . . it was never permissive enough to allow such dramatics. 

With the pleasant smile of a man who had definitely already read every single relevant book on Cang Qiong Mountain, he said, “I suppose I may have been remiss in my responsibilities. Zhangmen-shixiong’s condition is in no danger of worsening, and so there is no harm in further examining what information we have.”

Shen Qingqiu’s smile might as well have been fanged. “Good. I will drop them off as soon as possible.” With one last glare at the rest of the Peak Lords, he turned sharply on his heel and strode from the room in a flurry of green silks and danger.

Shang Qinghua sagged into the table. Qi Qingqi snorted and patted Mu Qingfang on the shoulder. “Good luck with that one, Mu-shidi.”

Mu Qingfang carefully did not stop smiling.

---

He waited until he was safely alone in his workshop before slamming his head on the table. It didn’t solve anything, but it did technically give him several seconds of shut-eye and that was better than nothing.

He was interrupted—once again—by the sound of his door violently slamming open.

“Shen-shixiong,” he said, peeling his face off his desk.

“Mu-shidi.” Shen Qingqiu sat down next to him and folded his hands neatly in his lap, deceptively demure. “Is dual cultivation really the only way to cure Zhangmen-shixiong of his curse?”

Mu Qingfang peered at Shen Qingqiu’s sleeves. They didn’t look very full, but there was no telling how many books the man had shoved into them. “There may perhaps—” Theoretically, possibly, somewhere. “—be other alternatives.”

Shen Qingqiu tilted his head down in acknowledgement, but his eyes never left Mu Qingfang’s. “But this is the best solution.” He didn’t wait for a response before adding, words crisp and only mildly colored by the revulsion he’d displayed in the meeting room earlier, “Dual cultivation with a suitably powerful partner is the best solution.”

“Yes,” Mu Qingfang said, not even bothering to summon his usual smile. It was what he’d already said in the meeting, after all, and Shen Qingqiu wasn’t looking for his smile anyways. 

Shen Qingqiu’s lips turned white as he pressed them together. He didn’t speak, but the glint in his eyes made it clear that he was waiting for something. 

Mu Qingfang had absolutely no idea what. If anything, all he’d learned from this entire affair—beyond the surprising effectiveness of sleeping curses—was that he could not read Shen Qingqiu whatsoever. Here he was, pale and tense and snappish for a man that the whole sect was convinced that he hated. 

“Would—” Shen Qingqiu began, before stopping and scowling at the wall. “Would. My cultivation level. Work.”

“Oh.” Mu Qingfang wondered if he should even bother being surprised anymore. At least this was one thing he’d already known about his Shen-shixiong: he was an absolutely abysmal communicator. “Um.”

Shen Qingqiu’s cheeks colored, and he quickly said, “Not that I want to do this. But Zhangmen-shixiong deserves better than some brute like Liu Qingge, and there’s hardly a wealth of cultivators powerful enough to match him. So excuse this lowly one for his flawed foundation, but—”

Ah, what?! Mu Qingfang had not asked for any of this??? Hastily, before Shen Qingqiu could ramble himself into changing his mind, Mu Qingfang said, “Shen-shixiong, you are one of the most powerful cultivators in the world.” There was a reason that he’d been able to last as long as he had in duels with Liu Qingge in their youths. “You would absolutely, ah, work.”

Shen Qingqiu’s fan opened with a snap. It did little to hide the redness of his face. “Ah. Well. Good.”

“Right,” Mu Qingfang said. 

They stared at each other. 

Shen Qingqiu bristled, shoulders tilting upwards again, and Mu Qingfang realized abruptly that he was about to get eviscerated if he didn’t leave very, very soon. Quickly, Mu Qingfang exclaimed, “Well! Good. I’ll take my leave first, to allow you and Zhangmen-shixiong your privacy. You know how this works?”

“Of course I know how this works!” Shen Qingqiu yelped, too indignant to maintain an even tone. 

Mu Qingfang smiled. It was perhaps his first genuine smile since Qi Qingqi had absconded after dumping Yue Qingyuan’s body in his arms. “Good. I’ll leave Shen-shixiong to it, then.”

Before Shen Qingqiu could figure out how to stop spluttering, Mu Qingfang gathered his things and quickly vacated the premises.

---

Well. He supposed that was one way to do things.

---

Yue Qingyuan was up and about by the next day. Any assumptions Mu Qingfang had had about Shen Qingqiu wanting to be private about his affairs were quickly dashed. Yue Qingyuan walked into the next Peak Lord meeting with, ah, marks visible high enough on his neck that his collar couldn’t cover them, and he seemed utterly incapable of keeping his eyes off of Shen Qingqiu. 

Shen Qingqiu ignored him as usual, but Mu Qingfang was sitting close enough to see that they were holding hands under the table.

Which. Great. Excellent. Exactly what Mu Qingfang wanted to see at every sect meeting for the rest of his life.

“It’s all your fault, you know,” Liu Qingge said.

“I wouldn’t say that,” Mu Qingfang protested. 

“No, it absolutely is,” Qi Qingqi said glumly, “I can’t believe we have to watch Zhangmen-shixiong making bedroom eyes at Shen Qingqiu every single month.” 

Mu Qingfang put his head on the table. Maybe if he just ignored everything, it would all go away. 

“Did you see them yesterday?” Qi Qingqi continued, “They were wearing matching outfits.”

Shang Qinghua, inexplicably, shot Mu Qingfang a strange gesture with both thumbs sticking up. “Nice.”

“No,” Liu Qingge said.

“Absolutely not,” Qi Qingqi agreed.

[ao3 link]

[bonny-kookoo]

Tiny Treasure Shorts: Bunny Tantrum ❤️☁️

Paining: Jeon Jungkook x Reader

Genre: fluff, angst, hybrid!AU, hybrid!Reader, human!Jungkook

Tags/warnings: Kookers be ignoring his bunny, bits of angst, bunny has thoughts about him not wanting her anymore bless her heart, thumping, bunny behavior, kook be kinda dense ngl, god he’s frustrating, thoughts of abandonment, but nothing drastic lol

Summary: it’s one thing to have friends over. It’s another to ignore your little bunny when she’s right there. And it’s a huge thing to not even realize what you did wrong.

You like to think of yourself as not too clingy.

Of course, since he's your owner and you love him lots, you want to be close to him at all times if that was possible- but you also had a human brain, and common sense. Of course there were times you had to be alone. For example; whenever he's working, you always make sure to stay extra quiet. He needs to concentrate after all- so if you ever visit him in his makeshift office in his apartment, you tend to simply take a nap; the almost rhythmic typing sounds and gentle sighs here and there providing the perfect lullaby for you.

Jungkook likes to have you close during other times, however.

He has stated numerous times again and again that he would never think of you as clingy or that you were getting onto his nerves; more like the opposite. He enjoys having you follow him around the house, noticing how you watch him play video games, or have him talk to you about the most mundane of things. With Jungkook it never mattered if the conversation was deep and meaningful or not- simply exchanging some food for thought was enough.

And of course, he liked to keep you very close throughout the nights.

Now, at first, he had been a little worried. He's anything but a calm sleeper- he moves a lot and due to the size difference between the two of you, he was simply scared to roll you over at night. But eventually, the two of you had found a solution to it that satisfied you both equally. If he held you close during his sleep, he was less prone to shift and turn around as much. And at the same time, you got to cuddle him while sleeping. A win-win situation, really.

So why were you mad right now?

Well it was perfectly fine that he had his friends over. You understood that this was a rare occurance, and that you had only little to really input into the current game of CS:GO- hell, you barely learned the game mechanics yet. And it was fine that he only conversed with them, even after hours had passed.

What didn't sit right with you however was, when he had dismissed you when you had asked if you could go outside to get some snacks from the nearby grocery shop. It would've been okay if he had simply told you no. But that's not what he did; instead, he had waved you off like a bug flying too close to his face.

It felt demeaning, in a way. And it upset you.

And the worst was only to come. Because, naive as you were, you had at least thought that someone if not Jungkook himself would've heard you closing the bedroom door a little louder than usual.

But no one came. And you knew, in a way, the thoughts of him maybe really having gotten tired of your presence were nonsense; you knew for a fact that Jungkook loved you dearly. But that didn't help at all. Already, your brain had come up with scenes of you packing your bags, going back to Taehyungs place just to eventually occupy your old room at the shelter. It made your eyes sting- but you simple pulled your ears over them, as if to force yourself to shut them off.

Only after hours of you laying alone in the bedroom did Jungkook eventually join you in bed. As if nothing was off, he attempted to wrap his arms around you; but he got a reaction he never would've thought he'd get from you.

You pulled in your leg a little, just to kick out with a power that could only be described as anger. You were upset with him- visibly so. "Bunny?" He asked, genuinely confused by your behavior as he leaned over a little to catch a glimpse of your face. But you kicked out again, suddenly standing up before grabbing your blanket, and walking out towards the couch in the living room. It wouldn't provide a good nights rest- the couch way too drowned in too many scents by now, but it would do. You didn't want to be close to Jungkook right now, no matter the cost. "Bunny, no, whats wrong?" He asked, a slight whine to his voice as he squatted down close to your sitting form- your face turned away from him as your arms were crossed; entire body language showing him your stance of defense. "Can you tell me what's wrong?" He asks, and you huff. "Did I do something?" He dares to ask, and your foot hits the ground forcefully.

If you weren't so goddamn angry at him, he would've actually found the action cute.

"What did I do?" He asks, and again, your foot thumps the ground- tiny bunny tail wiggling in frustration as your ears are turned backwards. You're still not looking at him. "Bunny baby if you don't talk to me I can't-" He starts, but you don't let him finish.

"Oh, so now you want me to talk to you?" You ask bitterly, glossy eyes meeting his widely opened ones, and he genuinely hurts seeing the state you're in. You're clearly upset- and he really doesn't know what happened. "You didn't want my attention the entire day- so why now when everyone's gone? Am I like.. just a place-holder so you don't feel lonely?" You say, your voice breaking at the end because for some reason, saying it out loud actually makes you think about it more deeply. Because it seemed to actually make sense to you. Why else would he ignore you when his friends were over- but give his attention to you when you were alone with him? Were you just a toy for him?

"Baby no, no no no." He rambles out, and groans, as things suddenly click inside his brain. In hindsight he suddenly thinks about his actions more clearly- it makes sense that you're this distressed. After all, the way he had simply dismissed you like a fly unwanted had been uncalled for and absolutely stupid on his side. "I'm so sorry- I didn't mean to do that.." He states, a whine now clearly lacing his voice as you still huff only in frustration, a single kick to the floor showing that you were maybe calming down- but still not okay with his behavior. "Bunny baby.. don't be mad please.." He softly begs, kneeling in front of you so he can rest his hands on your knees- his chin on top of them to catch a glimpse of your face.

"Do you even want me here.?" You softly ask, almost scared of his honest answer. This time he doesn't reply right away- but stands up, to sit on the couch next to you. He pulls you close, uncaring that your leg kicks out, an annoyed whimper escaping you. He holds you tightly however, rubbing his nose over the skin from the side of your jaw down to your shoulder. The affectionate gesture soothes you immensly- and you hate your stupid instincts for doing that to you.

"I'll always want you." He says, voice nowhere near playful or whiny. He's honest, raw, and wants you to understand him. "You're my.. everything. What I did was uncalled for- and I'm truly sorry." He states. "I know it doesn't justify my actions, but this is all still super new to me too.. I'm not used to having someone around twenty-four-seven." He says. "And before you say anything, no, I WANT you close. I want you around all the time." He squeezes you a little tighter once he notices you relax in his arms. "I'm so grateful you're here. I'll better myself. Promise." He says, and you nod after a while, turning in his embrace.

"Koo?" You question tiredly, and he hums a reply. You close your eyes and lean your head on his shoulder as you speak your next words. "I'm tired." You say.

He chuckles. "Let's go to bed then?" He questions, and you nod.

"Will you make me pancake for breakfast?" You ask, as he picks you up, blanket and all, to carry you back into the bedroom.

"Anything you want, Bunny." He says, laying you down onto the mattress before climbing in as well, arms around your form as he sighs. "Anything you want.

[keilemlucent]

lavender latte xi (no longer canon)

NOTE: Chapters X and XI are not longer considered canon in Lavender Latte.

....

(explicit, r18+)

hawks | takami keigo x reader

ao3

|| series masterlist  ||

word count: ~6.8k

beta’ed: @hawnks (thank u!! 💕)

heat in two ways 

warnings: spicy content, a little bit of overstimulation. enjoy, loves ;^)

...

a/n: a little recap from last chapter, because its been awhile! keigo and reader ‘nested’ together after that nasty little panic attack from a few chapters ago. and now? guess you gotta see find out!! ;^) enjoy my loves!!!!

Things felt calmer, later. Your combined world had settled into the sheets with slumber. 

Thank god. 

When you both awoke, the sun was just beginning to set. 

The light that filtered in from the cracks in the curtains was amber, painting orange streaks across your dark bedroom.

The two of you had shifted, somewhat, perhaps falling even deeper into the nest you’d made, the softness of it forming to the contours and curves of your snuggled-up bodies. 

It was cozy, burrowing your face into Keigo’s chest, hardly awake and vaguely aware of the way his hands pressed wide against your lower back. 

You felt melted in the best way. 

“Comfy,” The word slipped from your lips without much thought, snuggling closer.

Your skull was no longer throbbing, neither was your hand or foot. 

It just felt calm, the only sensations Keigo’s breath and heart, and the ambient hum of the rest of the world. 

“Am I now?” Keigo chuckled from above you, voice crackling with sleep. “I have to say the same about you.”

You made a high sound in the back of your throat, shifting the slightest bit to drag your lips along his throat, bearing into the flesh with the barest drags of your teeth.  

He shuddered, squeezing the fat around your hips.

Maybe it was that your mind was still somewhat raw, but you were feeling particularly gooey. 

Maybe, it was that your mind didn’t have the will or the way to be too guarded, not when you felt so safe, especially in contrast to the hellish mindscape you’d been in hours before.

Not that you remembered it all that well— and good, you didn’t want to.

Your only bits of lucidity were in the present.

And god, did that feel good.

 Keigo tended to wake up quickly.  

It was just how he ticked, as tired as he was at any given time, he could always pull himself to wakefulness so quickly. 

With you, all warm and fucking perfect against his side, it was both a blessing and a curse.

Sure, he could’ve gotten to sleepily awaken with you, if his body hadn’t startled him from REM sleep the moment you shifted and whined against him. 

Though, being awake meant he got to watch you wake, and that in and of itself was a privilege he coveted.

It was new, even with the few ‘sleepovers’ the two of you had shared, all that sleepy peace was nearly untouched. The stillness and natural slowness of it was something that Keigo had come to crave.

He traced shapes against your ribs, leaning into the feel of you.

“How are you feeling?” His words were muffled into the top of your hair. 

“Good.”

“Very descriptive.”

“‘M sleepy,” You truly whined, twisting your legs with his own. “Don’t wanna think right now, Kei’.”

He suppressed a shiver at the little nickname on your lips. 

“That can be arranged,” Keigo hummed, pulling a blanket higher on your shoulders. “Do you want to keep sleeping? I can run out and grab some food?”

There was a moment of silence before you sniffled, burrowing your face into his neck.

Still so fragile.

“D-don’t leave yet, okay? Just a little more, please,” Your voice was pitched up with sleep, wobbling as Keigo felt the smallest tears begin to wet his sleep shirt.

His heart sank.

 “I’m not leaving, not unless you ask me to,” He murmured into your hair. “I’ll keep telling you that as long as I need to.”

The multiple meanings of his words mostly went over your head, yet you felt overwhelming and instant relief of knowing that Keigo wouldn’t be leaving your nest on his own volition anytime soon.

The assurance made your heart swell, even if your tired mind couldn’t swim in the depths of his tone.

All the same, you sucked in a breath before pulling him down into a needy kiss. 

It was reminiscent of the kind that you’d shared earlier. All desperate and clawing for grounding and stability in touch. 

Keigo gave it freely in the same way you gave it without knowing.

He nipped at your bottom lip, relishing the high keen that pulled from the back of your throat.

You’d done this all before, heated kisses and much-needed touches, but there had always been a line to stay away from. Especially on such an intense day, the last thing Keigo wanted to do was push your limits. 

 But, maybe you wanted to.

You tugged at Keigo’s waves, snuggling closer in time with the way you kitten-licked into his mouth. 

He groaned, shifting against you. You moved with him, craving him in any way you could get.

His leg shifted between your thighs. Immediately, you squeezed around it, feeling his own tight, lean muscle.

You’d gotten good at repressing your desire for his touch, barring yourself from any contact that could push past your threshold toward overstimulated disaster. Maybe, you had been overcautious, but it seemed better than scaring Keigo away with your potential shortcomings.

Wound together in the heat of your ‘nest’, though? 

Your quirk and mind had already detonated and didn’t have anything left in you besides fumes. All that burned in your gut was the swell of want and heat. 

You ground against him, barely, whining against his lips. 

Your heart panged a bit when Keigo pulled back, lips wet and pupils wide. 

He opened his mouth to speak, but you carefully rolled your hips against, the hardening bulge in his joggers pressing against your navel.

“I want to feel you,” It slipped out desperate and sticky as you locked your hands around the back of his neck.

 It was more than okay, better than okay.

 “I promise, I’ll stop us if anything gets to be too much,” You told him, a little more sheepish as Keigo stared up at you, wide-eyed. 

His lips parted as his words got lost between his mind and mouth. His hands stayed still at his sides by sheer power of will. 

“I just...” Your voice wobbled as you rubbed at your eyes. “Is this okay?”

 You were too soft for too much, but Keigo didn’t mind; he never did. 

“Very.”

He pulled you down by the collar of your shirt to show you how ‘okay’ it was. 

Admittedly, he was needy with his touches. His palms cupped your ass, squeezing and massaging over your shorts. Keigo had been holding himself back in the weeks prior without issue, but getting more of you, in any way was intoxicating.

That was not to say that he didn’t keep in mind your fragile state, no, he just made sure his touch was firmer, and his breath ran hotter.

Sensation served as a gentle reminder that ‘Keigo was right there, and he wasn’t letting you go. 

 You kept a tight grip on his sweater as he flipped the two of you, nudging your booted-leg to splay out comfortably. 

“Fank’ you,” You mumbled against his lips, chasing them for a moment as he drew away.

“Of course,” He pressed a kiss to your cheek, trailing lower to nip at your neck.

You whimpered when he reached a particularly sensitive patch

“This okay?” Keigo hummed.

“V-Very,” You replied, playing with the hem of his cropped sweater. “Please keep going.”

 (Like you had to ask.)

 You kept an eye on your fragile state, but with how little there was left in you and the quiet of the surroundings, there wasn’t much to watch. All you could feel was the roll and heat of each other’s bodies. There was nothing else to ring loudly in your skull.

Just Keigo and you, twisted up in each other and the bedding of your nest.

Perfect. 

You snuck your hands up the back of his sweater, running your nails down his back, just barely teasing at the roots of his outstretched wings. Teasing him was easier than you’d thought it’d be, considering you knew how gooey he got any time you even got close to his wings.

The shudder he gave you was confirmation of that.

“Careful there,” Keigo warned with a chuckle. Despite his laughter, you could feel the way his breath stutter with each sweet touch. 

“Why? Whatcha gonna do about it, Kei’?” You grinned back, smitten, as he stilled around your collarbones. 

“There’s plenty I could do,” It was a warning, one that enticed you to no end. 

“Oh yeah? Tell me about it.,” You challenged. 

“I think you’d like that too much,” Keigo chuckled against your neck. “Seems you’re pretty excited already too, hm?”  

A few of his fingers teased at the waistband of your shorts. 

He wasn’t wrong.

(At all.)

You scraped your nails along the base of his wings and much to your joy, Keigo’s spine arched and he practically whimpered. 

“Cute,” You snorted, rolling your hips up into his. “You’re not so tough, either.” 

Something like a growl rumbled from the back of his throat.

“Hush, dove,” Keigo cooed, far too sweetly for how his hands were dipping underneath your shirt. “Neither are you.” 

Both of you were so damn doughy for the other, the banter fell away. There was plenty of time for teasing, but both of you were thinking of a very different kind. 

Before you could quip back, Keigo was palming at your breast, teasing your pebbled nipple. You bit your lip to suppress a whine, shots of pleasure turning you even gooier and pliant. 

“I’m sure you’ve got plenty of soft points,” Keigo sounded all too pleased with himself as he hovered his face over yours. He gave a few slow blinks, pupils blown wide. “And I cannot fucking wait to find them all.”

...

If you hadn't soaked through your panties before, you certainly had now. 

Keigo could do anything to you, you decided. Having him over you, all sleep golds and heat was warming your insides in the best ways.

And you wanted more. 

You stared up at him, wide-eyed, and quickly melted as your shirt was pushed higher and higher. Every piece of you, raw and needy, wanted Keigo, needed him close, even closer— 

And Keigo fed the flames your mutually hot desire without shame.

“I’ve really wanted to learn you like this,” His fingers slowly traced over your side, taking his time to watch you squirm. His voice slowed to drawl, “All the ways I can get you fucked off my touch.”

Oh, what a prospect.

The thought of Keigo wrecking you was only a smidge daunting. It was easy to forget any potential unease when you let your relax against his touch, imagining all of the things he could do to you. 

God, did you want him to have his way. 

“You’re welcome to t-try,” You gently challenged as Keigo hiked your shirt over your tits, teeth scraping over the skin of your neck once more. 

With a chuckle, he lapped at your pulse point, “Gladly.”

Despite his confidence and your waning will, you weren’t to be outdone.

You wound your fingers into the small, fluffy feathers at the base of his wings, teasing the roots with the pads of your thumbs. 

In the earlier weeks, you’d found Keigo to be surprisingly sensitive. He joked occasionally about touch-starvation, but you knew there was a fair amount of truth to it. There had to be, with how his breath hitched with even your lightest touch.

His wings were the culmination of that thrumming need and craving for contact, and you were more than willing to exploit this knowledge. 

Keigo moaned against your neck with the stroke of your fingers, cursing under his breath. Your light massaging only seemed to spur him on, nails digging lightly into the soft flesh of your chest.

Despite the pricklings of pain, you still felt so soft. 

You were too weak for him, all wound up in the softness of the bedding and him, in every sensory sense, to put up too much of your own front. He felt too good not to invite and urge closer.

You tugged him up by the hair on the back of his head, pressing your lips together and stroking your thumbs down his cheeks. 

 Keigo kept his hips mostly still but was very aware of his own ragingly hard cock. Maybe, he was leaking into his boxer. 

Maybe.

You gasped against his lips, all breathy and sweet, “F-fuck, Keigo.” 

His mind ran blank, white-hot from the pleasure of mere words. 

He mentally repeated your words a few times, in your perfect cadence. The way your breath stuttered in your chest, the heat of your surrounding him, the softness of your body and the break in your voice— 

No one had ever said his name like that before and God, did he want more of it. 

He’d pull it from his lips as long as you’d let him. 

You pulled away only to meet his eyes with your blown pupils and upturned lips.

He calmed himself at the sight, reminding himself carefully that the last thing he would want to do is push you over your invisible edge of overstimulation. 

“You okay?” Keigo asked instinctively, running a hand through your hair to soothe any potential ills.

“I-I am, very okay,” You swallowed, “Two things, though.”

“Shoot.”

“One, can you lose this?” You fiddled with the hem of his sweater. “I’m not... sure how to get it off with your wings.” 

Yes, yes, yes. Holy fuck. 

Maybe, Keigo was acting a bit too needy, but he couldn’t make himself care. With the sweetness on your face and the insistence in your touch, you were right there with him.

Keigo immediately sat up over your hips, tugging his shirt from around the base of his wings.

He swore his heart was going to burst as he took in the absolutely love-drunk look in your eyes. Your throat bobbed as you took him in, 

You reached up to run a hand along his navel, visibly swallowing, “Keigo... you’re so gorgeous— it’s kinda overwhelming sometimes. In a good way.”

Fuck his ego being ‘boosted’, more like inflated.

Maybe ego wasn’t the right word. His chest felt too full for it to just be some superficial sense of pride. It all felt too raw and sweet to just be some baseless confidence. 

It was that earnestness of yours again, lighting him up from the inside out.

“Sweetness,” The name rolled off his tongue, new and comfortable. “You’re too kind, really. But, I gotta know, what was that second thing you mentioned?”

You blinked back your stupor, shaking your head.

“Uh, fuck, it made more sense before, sorry, it’s alright.”

Keigo frowned, lowering himself back down to brace his arms on either side of your head. 

“Nah, tell me, dove. I want to know.”

You bit your lip, turning your head and gaze away. Keigo tapped your chin back to center, nuzzling into your nose with his own.

“You sure?” You asked softly, hand trailing up and behind his shoulders.

“Of course.”

“Earlier it just seemed like you were... uh—” You averted your gaze again. “Holding back is all. On my neck. You don’t need to.” 

Keigo cocked his head to the side, “What do you mean?” 

“Like...” You were struggling to get the words out, face heating up. “I would really like it if you marked me up a bit, you know. In that sense. You know?”

 The gears turned in his mind, something burning deep in his chest.

If his cock wasn’t rock hard before, it was now.

The thought of marking you, his sweet, somewhat injured partner (mate), up in the comfort of the nest the two of you made together made something stir in his gut and mind. 

And fuck, if he wasn’t going to act on it. 

Keigo fully slipped your shirt off, trying to take in as much of you with his eyes before his hands and mouth got their turn. 

Hungrily, he wound a hand into the hair on the side of your head, pulling to bear your neck shoulder full to him. With a growl, his teeth raked over your neck, hard enough that your moans cracked as they fell.

Without thought, Keigo spoke, earnest and hushed, “You have no fucking idea how much I want to wreck you, do you?” 

You swallowed, “Show me then.”

...

That honesty was going to be the death of him and you, he was sure of it.

Keigo held nothing back as he sucked and bit along your neck and shoulders, leaving bruises and marks in his wake wherever he could. 

The little glimpses of red and purple had him scalding under his skin. 

 Much the same for you, notably.

“Fuck, Keigo!” You gasped when he sucked a bruise onto the underside of your breast, lips moving to the bud of your nipple later to massage and suck and tease and generally make you undone.

Your cunt physically ached with the need to be touched, the little bit of friction you could manage from grinding against Keigo pelvis was something, sure, but hardly enough.

Not to mention you wanted to feel more of him too.

“C-Can I touch you? Please?” You asked, breathless and pushed yourself up on your elbows. 

Keigo pulled your shirt up and over your tits, panting.

Idly, he traced over the hickeys and bites he’d left.

“How do you want to touch me, dove?” 

He left the question open, eyeing you with a half-lidded, nearly black gaze.

You swallowed down any fears you might’ve had, body thrumming, but quirk sufficiently dormant.

You slid your hand between the two of your bodies, cupping Keigo’s cock over his sweats.

“However makes you feel good.”

Keigo’s expression nearly broke, but he retained his composure, barely between his ragged breaths and hungry eyes.

“Can I suck your cock? Please?”

 Keigo couldn’t hold back the way his eyes rolled into the back of his head. 

You, begging for his cock, bruised and bitten all for him with the sweetest whine to your voice.

“P-please, dove, please.”

Oh, to hear Keigo beg for your mouth, for your touch— for you. 

You obliged eagerly. 

Keigo slipped off his joggers, palming himself through his boxer as he kneeled in the bedding. His wings had assembled themselves more fully, the red plumage outstretched and almost rippling with the heat of the room.

You knelt below him, mouth watering.

“You sure, sweetness?” Keigo asked, giving you a last chance.

“Very, please, let me make you feel good,” Your voice nearly broke. 

It was all the confirmation you needed.

 Nimble fingers pulled down the front of his boxers, cock springing up, pearly and wet on the head.

He was curved and thick, darker in the head with a bit of well-groomed blond trimming patched around the base. His balls were fattened, swelling with need and hot to the touch.

Part of you wanted to make a joke, crack some line about how ‘excited’ Keigo was, but your bodily reaction was far louder.

You thumbed at the head of his cock, biting your lip as Keigo tossed his head back, cursing under his breath. 

You wanted to hear more of him breathing your touch, you had to.

Leaning forward, you licked away the preek before spitting back onto his cock.

 Keigo had to be fucking dreaming because his cock was in your mouth and you were doing so well.

He babbled out sweet praises as you swallowed around him, twisting your wrist and the base and bobbing your head. You always felt so good, but this was a new kind of good, the kind that made his balls tighten and head light.

“W-woah, dove,” He could feel how close he was as he buried a hand in your hair. “Slow down—” 

You pulled off his cock was a pop, looking up at him with tear-pricked eyes, “Don’t you wanna come down my throat, Kei’?”

He audibly whined, stroking a finger down the softness of your cheek with a slow nod. 

Like that, you were licking up the underside of his cock, pulling him back into your mouth.

His hands tangled into your hair, not pulling too much or too hard, only bracing himself on you as you dragged him closer and closer to the edge. 

Keigo reached a gasping end as your nose brushed against his navel, painting your throat white in ecstasy and god, did you let him. His wings stretched and puffed outwards, shuddering and twitching with his high as he choked out a moan against his clenched fist. 

Your nails left crescent indents on his hips as he pulled you off his cock, drool and spittle dripping from him and off of your own chin.

You were certain you looked fucked out and fuck, did you feel it.

Blinking up at him with teary eyes, you cracked a wide smile. 

“Dove, you’re so good,” Keigo dropped from his knees to smother you in the best possible way. “So, so good.”

He meant it.

He peppered your face with kisses, wiping and licking away any spare spit that stickied your chin. There was so much care in his actions, considering how fucked out he was and filthy the two of you were.

Not that either of you minded.

Keigo had you on your back again, surrounded by softness, as a brief reprieve.  

“How was that?” You asked cheekily. “Feeling good?”

“So good, dove,” Keigo sighed, lowering himself against you. “That being said, could I help make you feel good?

You swallowed, assessing yourself. 

Your panties were soaked, thighs sticky beneath your shorts. You knew you were ambiently squirming for a fucking crumb to satisfying your craving and need for touch, for him.

“Y-yes,” You stuttered, something akin to relief rushing through you. “Please.” 

 Keigo didn’t need to be told twice.

His head spun, pleasantly love-drunk in all the best ways. With you splayed out below him, heat singing in your cheeks and heat at the surface of your skin wherever his fingertips drifted.

“Get comfy, dove,” Keigo pushed lightly on your sternum, encouraging you back into the plushness of the nest. He allowed himself a moment to compose himself, trying to calm the tremble in his hands.

Maybe he was a little... nervous. 

Not for any good reason. He knew his own prowess, and he was confident that he could easily make you come undone in any number of ways.

The anxiety tied up in his gut and his own perked up arousal made his palms go clammy.

The source of it all was also splayed out before him.

It was you, and that made this feel a hell of a lot more important than any of his previous trysts. 

He was stumbling. 

 You noticed.

Keigo’s jaw tightened visibly, and he chewed at his lip— 

All he needs is a little push.

 An idea formed in your head. 

“Hey, Keigo? Can we try something?”

“Anything,” His gaze refocused, alight and rewarming. 

And, God, was his voice fucking desperate and dripping with something hot and infectious.

You stopped your hand at the waistband of your sleep shorts, sinfully soft and thin. 

With a shaking breath, you cracked “I-I know I could get overwhelmed, but I trust you, you know? I love you.”

Your breaths hitched in time with each other. 

“I love you too,” Keigo’s exhale matched yours, hands finding their home on your hips, “So much.”

The words had a lot in them for how new they were, and you only wanted more held in each syllable.

And preferably, something stuffing your cunt. 

You bit your lip, sliding your hand closer to your aching sex, silently praying you’d get your words right.

“Tell me what to do.”

There was a moment of quiet as you tore your gaze from Keigo and you immediately cursed yourself.

“I-I mean–” You tried to backpedal. 

Keigo was quick to hush you with a kiss, something deep that made you shudder. 

“Elaborate,” As he pulled away, he stayed close, thumbing at your burning cheeks, “How far do you want me to take that statement, dove?”

“Like...” You kept your confidence as strong as you could. “Tell me how to touch myself.”

Keigo was silent for a moment, a shaking breath dripping from his lips as his feathers in all their places practically writhed. 

“Gladly.” 

 Keigo pulled himself together, despite how weak-kneed he felt. His breath out over the back of your neck, his words curling against your ears as he watched your hand linger near your neglected cunt.

Pity.

“First, shorts off.”

You nodded, wiggling out of the soft fabric with Keigo’s help, though he made sure to keep your panties on. Ideas were spinning in his skull, too many, probably, but it wasn’t too hard to narrow down particular pleasures that you obviously needed.

The vulnerability of it all made your insides twist.

How long had it been since you were this bare with another person...

A while.

You had to be gentle with yourself.

And Keigo needed to be soft with you. 

He pulled you from your thoughts with a coo, tracing little nonsense shapes on your stomach from between your parted thighs. 

“Dove,” Keigo dripped something that made your insides boil. “Touch yourself a little for me. Just over your panties, tease yourself. I want to see you .”

You keened in the back of your throat, going to mush in his arms as two of your fingers traced over the wet patch on your panties. 

(Keigo mentally stored that you got off on being told what to do, suppressing the way his eyes wanted to roll back into his skull and ignoring the way his dick switched..)

One of his broad hands ran over your hips, squeezing the fat of your thighs as he coaxed you onto your back. 

It was more vulnerable for you like this, almost entirely exposed to him, but in the lowlight and softness of the room, it wasn’t nearly so intimidating.

It helped that within moments, your lips caught his, a moan muffled into his mouth.

As you broke apart, Keigo tugged at the elastic of your panties, “You’ve already gotten these pretty messy, hm? Let’s get them off.”

They followed your shorts onto the floor. 

Keigo let his wings do as they pleased as he took you in, watching your expressions, feeling your breath and heartbeat with each twitch of your body. 

It was like putting together some divinely crafted puzzle.

He meant it, ‘learning you’, and your suggestion of guiding your own getting off was the perfect time to sample your pleasures, mutually.

 You pulled Keigo from his thoughts with a kiss, snaking out a hand to grab his, and pressing it between your thighs.

“Oh? You want me to show you now?” Keigo murmured against your lips, tracing patterns on your thighs.

“P-please.”

Keigo clicked his tongue, eye half-lidded, “You know, I could get used to you begging.” 

Any retort died on your lips as he slid two fingers up and down your slit, stopping to roll and circle your clit.

Pleasure burned across your insides in the best way.

You’d craved his touch in this way for so long, why had it taken so long to let him touch you like this?

Maybe, the barest bits of your quirk activated as he rose from your side to slide down your body, little kisses and touches in your wake. Your mouth filled with sweet cream and cinnamon as you caught his gaze, burning and doughy all at the same time.

One of his fingers crooked into your cunt and you swore you saw stars and sweet fruits from that alone.

“Oh, good, dove, let it out,” Keigo’s voice felt too sweet, perfectly, as he kissed your thighs, heating you through and through. 

It was all so tender, you could feel stray tears leaking down over your temples. 

When was the last time someone touched you like this?

(Never.)

Keigo was supposed to be fast and frizzy, but nothing about the way he licked your cunt was even close to that. He was supposed to be flighty, but with the way he laid between your thighs, sucking at your clit and stretching you on his fingers, he was anything but. 

Your hand buried in his hair, your ground against his face, thighs squeezing his cheeks. The heat of it all burned you in the best way, singed you with syrupy fire that you’d wholly let consume you. 

“K-Keigo!” Your voice shattered as he massaged at your insides in time with the stroking of his tongue. 

You’d thought he’d tease, but he was enjoying this as much as you were, wrapped up in it all.

With your eyes screwed shut, you couldn’t see the way his wings wrapped around and hid the two of you from the world. You couldn’t see how he’d shift his gaze to your slack jaw and watery eyes, all fucked out and open-mouth. 

Each sensation of you around him, in the comfort of the little nest you’d made together, made him wild.

Keigo had wondered briefly, how love worked, considering he didn’t know much about it. Not beyond what he’d seen in movies and books, or the fragments of it from his own upbringings. None of his old flings ever held anything close to how he felt towards you. 

Love was different than all of what he knew, which is probably what made it so easy. 

He had a blank slate to etch with you, and god, if he wasn’t excited.

And only a piece of that was the way he fucked his fingers into your cunt, the wet sounds mingling in his ears with your high moans and little pleads. He could feel you fluttering around his fingers, practically pouring into his mouth.

He drank each drop of you down.

 It was all so good—

Too good. 

Each touch was like sweet flames, pouring down your throat to your toes and cunt, stirring you up and never letting you settle. Keigo’s tongue and touch were heaven, sweet relief and addicting in every way.

Except when the embers became too hot, burning you instead of warming you. The honey in your mouth went stale and the cinnamon singed like broken glass.

You’d passed over your threshold.

It happened so suddenly, you felt like you were drowning. Your moans choked in your throat, stuffed with wet wool. You grappled with sensation, eyes going wide as your chest began to heave. Burning and floating, you threw your arm over your eyes.

You tried to take a deep breath, but all of the sensation flowing through your fried body weighed too heavily to be fought through. 

“W-wait, stop.”

...

Everything had already gone still.

Keigo was far too perceptive and sensitive to let you slip too far.

“You’re okay, we can stop, whatever you need,” Keigo rose, pulling a stray blanket over you as he scrambled for other ways to comfort you.

 You reached down, shaky and teary, “N-no more, please, can I hold you?”

Any sort of barriers of shame or reluctance were gone, now that you were fried through and through. 

Keigo was at your side in a moment, carefully tucking you into his side after some insistent tugging at his biceps. 

“I’ve got you,” He hushed you, pressing his wet lips over your damp crown. “Big breaths.”

“Uh-huh,” You clung to his words, sucking down his scent of sweat and comforting spices. “Big breaths. 

Keigo rubbed your back and shoulders as firmly as felt right, resting his chin over your head as you shook against him.

“I promise, I don’t get overstimulated this much,” You whispered in his chest. “This is ridiculous.

“You’ve had a long day, dove,” Keigo reminded you with a laugh. “The fact that you almost came is impressive.”

“... You could tell I was close?”

“Of course. I love you, dove, you know?” Keigo breathed, almost soundless, mostly to himself. “I gotta know that kind of stuff. 

But, the room was too quiet and far too still for the words to not to be noticed. 

“I love you too,” You kissed the underside of his chin, the stubble still sticky with you. Maybe it was a bit gross, but you couldn’t find it in you to care. With your own light giggle, you shook your head. “I can’t believe my quirk edged me.”

Keigo’s chest rumbled for a moment before he squeezed you, hard, busting into a full fit of laughter that you couldn’t help but join. 

And it felt so good.

The last spinnings of your quirk faded as you caught your breaths, Keigo’s airy giggles tickling your nose and sending trailing touches at the base of your spine. 

As you caught a glimpse of his bare, dewy chest rising and falling and the sweetest smile you’d ever seen stretched across his lips, you decided you’d do anything to keep it there whenever you could.

A mission of goodness, as pure and idealistic as it was. 

Neither of you minded. 

You both rested, for however many moments, until you both were able to shift, still leaning into each other, but rising up in your nest. 

You wore a sheepish smile as you tucked a bit of Keigo’s unruly waves from his face, “Wanna try that again sometime?” 

He went literally soft, leaning into you. 

“Anytime,” Keigo kissed your wrist. “You’re perfect, you know that?”

“So you say.”

“And I’ll keep saying it—” 

Keigo’s hands squeezed your thighs as he pounced, pushing you back into the sheets, pressing kiss after kiss to your salty cheeks, wings fluttering above the two of you.

It was all perfect, truthfully and truly.

The way you spent the rest of the night held by each other, not as heated as before, but still, just as safely and comfortably. Over a bit of takeout, an endless amount of banter and laughter, and a goodnight’s sleep, you were both feeling miles better than the days and hours before.

It was all as perfect as it could get, between the two of you. 

(But, perhaps, the inevitable details would come into play. Perhaps.)

 |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||

 Keigo felt refreshed for the first time in months when he arrived at his agency the next morning.

He’d gotten to wake with you slowly for once, what a fucking treat, he was sure he’d never tire of it with you pressed again him. After some rolling, early morning kisses, he packed up his things and tucked you back into the nest of sheets to rest as much as you needed.

You’d been quick to drift off, a few of his stray feathers staying close by even in your slumber. 

Despite how energized he was, he was sipped on the canned coffee (had it always tasted this bad?) and preparing for his office day. 

He waved to his interns, smiling something real with a pep in his step as he entered his seldom used office. 

As Keigo organized himself, he practically had to dust off his far-too professional looking desk before setting his bag down, and starting up his computer.

The door clicked open moments later, and a ruffled-looking Akane gave him a stern look from the doorway.

“Hello, Hawks. I need to talk to you—” 

“Paperwork will be done by noon, don’t you worry about that,” Keigo laughed off her oblivious irritation as he clicked into his desktop. “I know taking a personal day isn’t really my thing— “

“It isn’t, and this isn’t about your paperwork.”

She reached behind her to click the lock in place.

Keigo’s gaze drifted to the diamond insignia on her breast pocket, almost twin to the one he wore on his bodysuit.

Both wards of the same beast, one could say.

When he was younger, still being trained so ruthlessly, they assigned him ‘handlers’, like some sort of animal. Once he’d gotten his own agency, he’d been assigned Akane, raised and trained in a similar way he had been. Another product of a failed system and an opportunistic, greedy power structure.

They understood each other in that way. 

“I said I needed to talk to you two days ago and I meant it,” Akane sighed, shaking her head and approached his desk. “I’ve managed to cover you so far, but I need an answer.”

“...About?”

It wasn’t like her to be cryptic.

Akane fished around in her side bag for a tablet, clicking it to unlock and tapping.

“I know there are things you do that the bosses don’t even tell me about, and that’s how I justified all of this, continually.”

She placed the tablet in front of Keigo, an image displayed and glowing. 

His eyes went wide when he saw the picture.

It was him, flying to your balcony. It was late, the warm glow of the nearby streetlights half-illuminating his face, even from far away.

Akane scrolled to another picture, much the same, except taken in daylight. 

Keigo bit the inside of his lip to keep on his plastic smile as Akane scrolled through picture after picture, all of him coming and going from your apartment.

A pit was growing in his stomach. 

“We’ve been paying tabloids off, blacklisting folks. I know you’ve had a lot on your plate and have been particularly distracted, so I put it on work we aren’t allowed to know about. Still, I wanted some confirmation.”

Keigo’s heart dropped like lead slick with mercury in his chest, a poison feeling spreading over his gut— 

“It didn’t seem right though. And then I got some confirmation with this one— “

The next picture made him burn. 

“It’s  from yesterday morning.”

Yesterday morning.

From the balcony window, the early light was perfect to see directly and clearly into your apartment.

It captured Keigo kneeling on the floor, wings slack and resting on the floor, softened with a concerned quirk in his lips. 

He held your forearm in his, pressing an obvious kiss to the back of your bandaged hand. 

And then there was you.

You.

Teary-eyed, even in the photo, haggard and tired, but still obviously looking at him with love that made Keigo break in his ribs. 

“We caught this one last night. Your publicist is pissed, but I covered for you. That being said, I need an answer. I’m not blind.”

His mouth went dry.

“Who the hell is that, Hawks?”

...

The two of you hadn’t talked about this yet.

The publicity of your relationship, if and when, was something that had been alluded to, but never deeply conversed about. There was too much glowing new love and healing being done to worry about the details.

But now, the details were staring him in the face.

Thank god for his training, and his ability to keep his expression even.

“Sorry about all that!” He laughed, leaning back and propping up his feet. He pushed away the tablet with the toe of his boot. “Just some work and play for a mission. It’s been getting a little... interpersonal, if you know what I mean.”

He wiggled an eyebrow to really sell himself.

 Akane met his express with a dry glare. 

“... And you took a personal day for that?”

An incongruence. 

Keigo kept on his sickly smile as Akane sized him up.

��Had to be nonchalant, right?”

He was coming to hate lying, after being so intimately around your candor. 

The feeling of illness in his chest grew.

Sentiment was terrifying.

“... Right,” Akane ran a hand through her hair before taking back the tablet. “I won’t say anything, and I’ll tell your publicist to keep doing what she’s doing. Just try to be less obvious about all of this... ‘interpersonal work’.”

She wasn’t convinced.

Maybe Keigo had become a shittier actor, or maybe Akane had just come to know him too well.

Akane fished around in her bag, pulling forth a small piece of folded paper. She placed it on his desk, and slid it until it bumped his boot.

“Just in case you’re interested, these are the names of the photographers responsible. Do with that what you will.”

She gave him a darkened look as he sat up, unfolding the note and taking in the names.

They wouldn’t be hard to find, if needed. 

“Thank you, Akane. I appreciate it.”

“Of course.”

She turned to leave, but paused, hand hovering over the door handle.

“Hawks?” Her voice went more gentle than he was used to. “I mean it, I won’t say anything. To anyone. Just... whoever they are to you, be careful, alright?”

Akane’s gaze drifted back to his, a sharpness there that she’d been hiding. 

Knowingness.

Despite the smile he still managed to wear, his must’ve looked quite grim as Akane left his office, leaving him in the almost silence with plenty to stew over. 

+++++

💕 tipjar 💕

+++++

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