𝔇𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔪 𝔰𝔪𝔭 𝔬𝔫𝔢𝔥𝔬𝔱𝔰 (male reader)

Philza x male raeder

He had his back to you, his chest rising and falling slowly with his breathing. The sheets which once laid peacefully are tossed across the bed in a mess, barely draping over the two. His large wings partially curl around his body, completely relaxed for once. It's a beautiful sight, especially one you are still getting used to seeing every morning. The blond usually hides his wings under that cloak of his, so it was seldom you'd get to see them. Your own wings twitch at the sight of his skewed feathers, fingers itching to fix them.
Lazily, you drag a finger across the dip of his back, following the crease of his spine lower and lower. Tracing each scar, connecting the freckles and moles across his skin like the points on a map. Philza shifts in his sleep, stirring but not awake yet. Feeling bold, your hand drifts to his wings. You stroke his feathers gently, nails grazing the ends lightly, just how he likes it. Philza shuffles a bit more, groaning softly. With a smile, you scoot closer to place a flurry of kisses across his back and against his wings.
The gesture is full of adoration and love, and yet not enough to express your feelings for him. His wings flutter and a quiet groan falls from his tongue. Sleepily, he rolls over. He tosses his arm over you and drags your body against his own into a lazy embrace. He presses a kiss against your forehead then one on your lips.
"Good morning." He mutters, eyes still lidded drowsily. His voice is rough, from sleeping, deeper than normally. You greet him back, briefly nuzzling against his bare shoulder. Phil smiles weakly at the ticklish feeling, shifting closer. The pair lie together for a bit longer, pushing past their tiredness. However, the occasional yawn makes progress difficult. With a strained breath, he sits up and stretches out. His wings mimic the movement, the injured one not expanding as far. You sit up too, eyes still trained on his feathers.
He turns, looking over his shoulder. Another yawn escapes him before his hand outstretches to you. Normally, you'd take it and scoot over for him to preen your wings. He'd always help you with your wings, but rarely let you help with his own. His insecurities often got the better of him with things like this.
You take his hand, holding it gently, thumb caressing across his knuckles. It isn't clear if the action is to help calm yourself or him. Either way, it seems to work.
"I know you normally preen by yourself, but I want to help." You pause to grip his hand a little tighter for reassurance. "If you'd let me."
He doesn't respond right away, eyes searching for any hints of a lie. With the tilt of his head he nods, not confident enough that his voice won't waver. He turns slowly, wings twitching anxiously. You move closer, hand hanging in the air momentarily as you hesitate. You start slow, gently moving feathers back into place on his uninjured wing. Philza eventually sinks into the touch, muscles relaxing with time.
Carefully you pluck loose feathers, making room for new ones to grow in. His wing tilts back, practically falling into your lap. He shudders when you reach a particularly sensitive spot. You're quick to apologize but he shakes it off, not at all bothered.
"Your wings are beautiful." You say breathlessly, looking over the dark feathers. They twitch at your appraisal, giving away his happiness. "You are beautiful." The compliment falls effortlessly from you, an unspoken truth in your mind. He chuckles sheepishly, skin flushing pink.
Your hands trail across the skin of his back and shoulders, before reaching his damaged wing. Although both wings were injured in the explosion, this one clearly took most of the impact. Feathers are skewed out of place, both from slumber and negligence. Raised reddish burn scars lay scattered on his wing, peeking out from behind broken quills and fuzzy baby feathers.
Philza takes in a sharper breath when you touch him again. His grogginess fades away as realization kicks in that you're looking at his damaged wing and haven't said anything. His wings used to be his pride, but now they're a reminder of his past failures. Yet, the touches you place on him have never felt so kind.
On instinct he draws his wings closer to himself. Shame rises in his gut when you flinch from surprise and he wants to hide away. He sits like that for a bit longer, expecting the worse outcomes. Yelling, upset grumbles or something about his resistance. But, you say nothing, simply waiting for him to make the choice on whether to continue or not. With a deep breath, he extends his wings again. He doesn't move away from your touch, although he certainly feels like doing so. Every thought pounds away in his mind, spitting harsh lies and comments. But every compliment you give, pushes them aside.
"Thank you, for letting me do this." You mumble softly, gaze drifting to Philza. "You should be proud of yourself, I know this is a big step." He shifts in place, not speaking yet. Your thumb brushes over some stray feathers, gently taking out the old ones. You pause your work to let your hand trail over the broad of his wing. "You outshine others, it's the truth."
He blushes from the endless compliments, sinking into your touch. "Everyone always watches me, judging me." Phil sighs out, desperate to ignore the praises you give.
"They're watching because you're mesmerizing." You retort, not missing a beat. He grumbles, cheeks flushing and wings twitching. You stop preening his wings, leaning forward to grab onto his shoulders. You spin him around slowly, dragging the taller man into a hug. He sinks into the hold, wings fluttering over your own. You place a kiss on his cheek and lean back a bit, staring into his eyes. Your hand caresses his face gently, softly.
"I appreciate you. I adore you and I love you." You kiss him, the action fleeting yet fond. "You don't need to say anything, because loving you is more than enough for me." He smiles weakly, tears forming at the corners of his eyes. You kiss them away, ignoring the flush of his cheeks.
"You're too kind." He chokes back a sob. "I don't deserve you. And, my wings-" Before he can continue, you cut him off.
"Philza Minecraft." He flinches at the use of his full name and your stern gaze. "I don't love you for your appearance. I love you because it's you. Your wings don't make you less of a person. If anything they complete you."
You drag the blond back into a hug, your wings encasing you both. Your hands trail through his wings and feathers, caressing the limbs adoringly.
"Every mark, burn and feather shows how powerful you are. How you stood up for your friends and family. Your beliefs, confidence, strength, you." He's crying freely now, face hidden in your shoulder. He mutters countless words of gratitude but you hush him, instead holding the man closer. You sit like that for a while, easing his worries and speaking of your love for one another.
"What would I do without you?" His words are slightly muffled from his face being pressed against you. You hum in acknowledgement, fingers running across his back and drawing patterns.
"Wallow in self pity, I guess." You tease lightly, nail poking at his side. He snorts, then smacks you with his wing. You sputter, briefly getting a mouth full of feathers. Philza laughs cheekily, watching you carefully.
You give him a fake glare before smacking his head with your own wing. He stifles a snort, hands pushing away the opposing limb. "You're rude."
"And you're a brat." He grins, then starts laughing, losing his seriousness. You begin to laugh too, enjoying how the mood has lightened from earlier. As the moment dies down, you address him one last time.
"I was being serious earlier." You reach for his hand, holding it tightly. "I'd gladly tell you how much I love you, how important you are to all of us for the rest of my life. If it means that you'll one day believe it to be true."
He swallows the spit on his tongue, mouth feeling dry as he gapes at your sincerity. With newfound energy, he practically tackles you to the bed sheets, laying kisses across your skin in gratitude. They follow with praises and promises of his own, ones he plans to stay true to.